Life On The English Manor (A Study Of Peasant Conditions 1150-1400)

CAMBRIDGE STUDIES
IN

MEDIEVAL LIFE AND THOUGHT

Edited by G. G. COULTON, Litt.D., Hon.D.Litt., Hon.LLD., F.B«A.
Fellow of St John's College , Cambridge , Honorary Fellow of
St Catharine's College *

LIFE ON THE
ENGLISH MANOR

ACC.

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LIFE ON THE T

ENGLISH MANOR

A Study of Peasant Conditions

1150-1400

by

H. S. BENNETT, M.A.

Fellow and Librarian of Emmanuel College , Cambridge s
and University Lecturer in English

CAMBRIDGE

AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS

1938

First Edition 1937
Reprinted 1938

. 1

'V.

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN

GENERAL PREFACE

T there is only too much truth in the frequent complaint
that history, as compared with the physical sciences, is
neglected by the modem public. But historians have the
remedy in their own hands; choosing problems of equal im¬
portance to those of the scientist, and treating them with equal
accuracy, they will command equal attention. Those who insist
that the proportion of accurately ascertainable facts is smaller
in history, and therefore the room for speculation wider, do
not thereby establish any essential distinction between truth¬
seeking in history and truth-seeking in chemistry. The his¬
torian, whatever be his subject, is as definitely bound as the
chemist “to proclaim certainties as certain, falsehoods as false,
and uncertainties as dubious”. Those are the words, not of a
modem scientist, but of the seventeenth-century monk, Jean
Mabillon; they sum up his literary profession of faith. Men will
.follow us in history as implicitly as they follow the chemist, if
only we will form the chemist’s habit of marking clearly where
our facts end and our inferences begin. Then the public, so
far from discouraging our speculations, will most heartily en¬
courage them; for the most positive man of science is always
grateful to anyone who, by,, putting forward a working theory,
stimulates further discussion.

The present series, therefore, appeals directly to that craving
for clearer facts which has been bred in these times of storm
and stress. No care can save us altogether from error; but, for
our own sake and the public’s, we have elected to adopt a
safeguard dictated by ordinary business commonsense. What¬
ever errors of fact are pointed out by reviewers or correspondents
shall be publicly corrected with the least possible delay. After
a year of publication, all copies shall be provided with such an
erratum-slip without waiting for the chance of a second edition;
and each fresh volume in this series shall contain a full list of
the errata noted in its immediate predecessor. After the lapse
of a year from the first publication of any volume, and at any

VI

GENERAL PREFACE

hW during the ensuing twelve months, any possessor of that
volume who will send a stamped and addressed envelope to
the Cambridge University Press, Bentley House, 200 Euston
Road, London, N.W. 1, shall receive, in due course, a free
copy of the errata in that volume. Thus, with the help of our
critics, we may reasonably hope to put forward these mono¬
graphs as roughly representing the most accurate information
obtainable under present conditions. Our facts being,thus
secured, the reader will judge our inferences on their own
merits; and something will have been done to dissipate that
cloud of suspicion which hangs over too many important
chapters in the social.and religious history of the Middle Ages.

G. G. C.

July 1930

AUTHOR’S PREFACE

T his essay aims at building a little further upon the
foundations laid by Maitland and Vinogradoff. Both,
^ being lawyers and philosophers, naturally stressed the
legal and abstract point of view. They pierced through the
differences to get at the similarities; they were often forced to
ignore the actual in order to establish the theoretical. Again and
again they ask, “Is this man free, or is he not free?”—a most
important question, and we owe them an incalculable debt for
their pioneer labours in clearing away much rubbish which the
centuries had accumulated about the discussions of peasant
status. Yet their preoccupation with this capital question neces¬
sarily involved a rigid adherence to strictly legal considerations,
and hence the obvious economic differences often involved were
frequently outside their investigations. They knew, of course,
that a free man with but a few acres of his own was considerably
^orse off in everything but status than an unfree man, holding
his thirty acres or more; but, in general, the bias of their studies
caused them to insist on the man’s legal freedom, and to ignore
his possible economic slavery.

And this, I believe, has had a*great influence on the study of
medieval peasant life. It has seemed to allow less acute observers
to concentrate on legal status, and the natural balance has been
disturbed. Our present knowledge of the legal position far
outweighs our vaguer conception of the economic and social life
in those thousands of English villages and hamlets scattered up
and down the countryside. This is the disproportion which I
am striving to reduce in the following pages. But, it must be
remembered, that vast as are the accumulated records of the
Middle Ages in England, they are not particularly favourable to
the social historian—more especially to the historian of the
illiterate masses who formed some eighty to ninety per cent, of
the population of England between 1150 and 1400. “The short
and simple annals of the poor” are wellnigh non-existent, and
we are forced to piece together our picture from materials that

viii AUTHOR’S PREFACE

were never meant to serve such a purpose. A modem enquirer,
confined to the documents in a big country solicitor’s office,
would gain a very one-sided view of contemporary English
countryside life. And so with the Middle Ages: we have, it is true,
a mass of documentary material but how much of it we would
willingly abandon for the letters of a thirteenth-century family,
who had kept their correspondence as carefully as did tire
Pastons two centuries later? How many cartularies, or jssize
rolls, or compoti or Manor rolls would we not barter for one brief
diary of a peasant of the fourteenth century set down as faith¬
fully as the seventeenth-century diarists recorded their adventures
in life and affairs?

Deprived of these, our task is infinitely more difficult, and we
can only proceed by the examination of innumerable documents
of the most various descriptions, from which we may hope to
pick out a phrase or incident, here and there, which will help
to lighten some dark comer of the medieval scene. The compara¬
tively safe waters of legal status and the like, so well charted for
us by Maitland, Vinogradoff, and others, must be left for the
open seas, where the bald legal phrases of court roll and terrier
on the one hand, and snatches of ballads, or biased fabliaux, or,
ex parte pleas on the other, represent our poor sailing directions.

And even such directions as these would have been infinitely
harder to come by had I not been able to rely on the aid of others
to help me in my search. The Bibliography will sufficiently
indicate the main sources from which my evidence has been
drawn. Manuscript materials abound: the only difficulty is how
to use them. The masses of documents available at the Public
Record Office, for example, have yielded up but a fraction of
their secrets: a lifetime spent among them would only scratch
the surface. Both there, and at the British Museum, expert help,
so generously given by the officials, enabled me to do much that
would otherwise have been impossible. Here, in Cambridge,
my indebtedness is overwhelming: the staff of the University
Library (and in particular Mr H. L. Pink, in charge of the
Anderson Room); many College Librarians (especially Mr II. M.
Adams of Trinity); the Secretary of the University Press, the
University Printer and their assistants, as well as many friends
and scholars, have all come to my aid on many occasions. Among

AUTHOR’S PREFACE

IX

them I must mention Mrs G. G. Coulton, Miss H. M. Cam,
Dr F. M. Page, Professor Eileen Power, Mr W. S. Mansfield,
Mr R. H. Robbins, Professor A. Hamilton Thompson and Mr E.
Welbourne. Nor must I neglect to thank the Council of Trinity-
College for very kindly allowing me to reproduce pictures from
several manuscripts in the possession of the College, nor the
Master and Fellows of Sidney Sussex College for depositing their
Abbot$ Langley rolls in the University Library for my use.

My greatest debts, however, have still to be recorded. In
the Preface £o The Pastons and their England , published in 1921,
I wrote: “Finally, two names remain. Dr G. G. Coulton, the
general editor of the series, has given of his time, his thought
and his learning unstintingly to this study. In other directions
I am almost equally indebted to my wife. To both I owe more
than I can express here.” The years between have immeasurably
deepened my indebtedness to both. To one of them I owe the
suggestion from which this study originated: to the other, as
a token of my manifold indebtedness, I have dedicated this
book.

H. S. BENNETT

August 1937

CONTENTS

General Preface page v

Author's Preface vii

Dedicatory Letter xvii

Prologue A faire felde ful of folbe 1-26

Difficulties of the subject—An imaginary picture of medieval England—A
June morning, 1320—In the fields—Preparations for Church—The church*
yard—Within the Church—The Mass—After the service—Sunday at home—
The village green—The “love-boon”—Haymaking scenes—The evening
meal—Daily tasks—Further boons—The “mad sheep”—The sporting
chance—The Manor Court—After the Court—The countryside

Chapter I The Church 27-37

Importance of the Church—The Church militant—The fear of death—The
Poor Man’s Bible—The village priest—“The Devil and all his works”—
Superstition—Magic—Popular beliefs

Chapter II The Manor and its Cultivation 39-60

Rural England—Manor and village—The manorial “web”—The “common
fields”—Communal operations—Complicated holdings—Subdivision of the
fields—Difficulties of cultivation—Village by-laws—Assarts—The meadows
—“Right of common”—The commons—The wastes

Chapter III The Manorial Population 61-73

Subdivisions of the peasantry—The undermannt —'The village craftsmen—
Village names and nicknames—Need for the small tenants—Their character¬
istic duties—The life of labour—The manorial system

Chapter IV The Peasant’s Year 75-96

Difficulties of medieval agriculture—The jus faldoe —Lack of manure—The
“exhaustion” theory—The fallows—The common fields—The yearly round
— Sowing—Harrowing — Haymaking — Harvesting —Winter work —Wet
weather occupations—Loss and gain—The livestock—Oxen, cows and sheep
—Pigs and poultry—Wild life—The peasant’s resources

Chapter V Rents and Services

97-125

Servile burdens—" The custom of the manor’’—The customals—“ Thepower
of the lord”—Week-work—A clay’s -work—Works not demanded—Types of
services— “Boon” work—The "mad sheep”—Negligent services—Excuses
for absence—Observance of holy-days—Military service—The peasant and
war—Compulsion—A nation at arms

xii CONTENTS

Chapter VI Servile Burdens 127-150

The mill —The miller—The manorial oven—Other forms of oppression—
“Tallage at will”—Fixed tallage—Th ejoyeux av eminent —Forced hospitality
—Heriot—Mortuary—“Worms feeding upon the corpse”

Chapter VII Manorial Administration 151-192

The need for manorial officers—Manorial treatises—The administrators—
The steward—The bailiff—The reeve—Length of service—Election of
reeve—The reeve’s duties—The reeve and the auditors—The reeve’s rewards
and privileges—The hayward—The beadle—The famuli —Their duties
and rewards— Pierce the Ploughman’s Crede —The manorial accounts—The
auditors

Chapter VIII The Manor Court 193-221

Manorial jurisdiction—Excessive claims—The Coroner on the manors—
Seigneurial rights and regalities—Lack of uniformity in administration—
Frequency of courts—The obligation to attend—Notice of meeting—The
meeting place—Free and serf in court—The essoins-—The “dooms”—
“Curia domini debet facere judicium et non dominus”—Jury—Juries of
presentment—Juries of inquisition—Duties of juries—The peasant before
the court—The business of the court—General conclusions

Chapter IX Everyday Life 223-256

Medieval houses—Methods of construction—Skilled labour—The village
craftsmen—Repair of houses—“By hook or by crook”—The peasant’s
garden—His household goods—Food and drink—Meals—Family life—
Population—Difficulties of peasant marriages—Marriages, on and olf the
manor—“Mixed” marriage—Compulsory marriage—Marriage and Canon
Law— Leynoite —Ecclesiastical courts and incontinency—Wills—The widow
—Old age arrangements—“Borough English”

Chapter X ‘ ‘ Merrie England ”

257-274

The peasant’s lot—The unending struggle—Stow’s picture—Christmas
festivities—Ecclesiastical feasts—Birth, marriage and death—The “ales”—
The ale-house—Dancing—The countryside and the pleasures of the chase

Chapter XI The Road to Freedom 275-317

Widespread desire for freedom—Causes for this—Dislike of fixed services—
Hatred of seigneurial exactions—Attitude of the Church to serfdom*-Manu¬
mission—Semi-manumission—The price of freedom--Constructive manu¬
mission—Holy Orders and serfdom—Knighthood—The attraction of the
towns—Towns and freedom—Towns partially free—Town and village—The
new boroughs—“A year and a day”—Other limiting conditions*—'The gilds
and the peasant—The serf in the towns—Privileges of towns—The peasant’s
immobility—Leave of absence— Flight—'The law and the fugitive—The
proceedings before the justices—Various types of writ used by lord and
peasant—The production of kin—Complications of pleading—Failure to
prosecute—Summary

CONTENTS xiii

Chapter XII The Church 319-336

Importance of the Church in medieval life—Peasant’s attitude to religion—
The village church—The services—Art and symbolism—“Dumb dogs”—
Status of clergy—Their education—Their stipends—Limited capabilities of
the ordinary peasant-priest—-Worldly occupations of the clergy—Tithe—
Visitation records and the parish clergy—The good priest and his influence—
“ The Mother of us all ”

Glossary

Abbreviations and Authorities
Index

337

34i

353

ILLUSTRATIONS

With one exception, the illustrations (including those re-cut in wood)
have been selected from the magnificent collection of illuminated
manuscripts in the Library of Trinity College, Cambridge, and are
here reproduced by the permission of the College Council.

PLATES

I. (a) “The three naked souls” facingp. io

MS. B. ii. 7, folio 108 v
(b) Asking the way
MS. B. ii. 5, folio 47

II. The peasant at work 82

MS. B. 11. 31, folios 2, 6,7,10

III. Country Sport 94

MS. B. 11. 22, folios 39 v, 59 v, 67, 68 v

IV. The thresher and the swineherd 184

MS. B. 11. 31, folios 8,11

V. Domestic scenes 234

MS. B. 11. 22, folios 25 v, 37 v, 92 v, 144 v, 169

VI. The Last Judgment r 324

MS. B. 11.4, folio s v

WOODCUTS

Peasant transport 75

MS. B. 11. 22, folio 12 v

God speed the plough 96

(From a MS. of Piers Plowman) MS?R. 3. 14, folio 3 v

The overseer’s rod 125

(From “ Queen Mary’s Psalter” in the British Museum)

Carrying to the mill 127

MS. B. 11. 22, folio 29 v

DEDICATORY LETTER

TO

G. G. COULTON

My dear Coulton,

It is now almost nineteen years since I was thrown up at
Cambridge as a part of the refuse of war, and first entered your
lecture-room. There, during that memorable autumn, while our
troops were steadily advancing, I heard you speak of the Middle
Ages, and realised what they could reveal to a mind and imagina¬
tion worthy of understanding them. Under your inspiring
guidance I turned to study one part of the medieval scene in
detail, and The Pastons and their England was the result; and
from that, in due time, I began the investigations which are the
subject of the present study.

But you do not need to be told that a busy University lecturer
and teacher has no longer the freedom of an ardent research
student, nor that my task has been interrupted again and again
since then. Indeed, I doubt if it would ever have been finished,
but for your constant inspiration and encouragement—an
encouragement not limited to my special studies alone. You will
remember how Lord Bryce speaks of J. R. Green’s inspection
of some new town, “darting hither and thither through the
streets like a dog following a scent”. That phrase of his has
frequently come to my mind, in our many travels together, as I
have watched you making a first survey of some new town. How
many times we have hastily dropped our bags at the first hotel;
and then, despite the call of the dinner-bell, at once you have
led us at a rapid pace through the streets, and with a quick
glance here and there, and at times a halt, have thrust aside the
modem additions, and have revealed the essentials of the me¬
dieval town! Wherever we have been together, you have always
interpreted the medieval world for me as no one else can do,
and have encouraged me to see the past in the present, even in
Alpine chalet or French hamlet.

xviii DEDICATORY LETTER

Hence almost every page in this book speaks of some ex¬
perience shared together: our talks of the medieval church on
the hills above Ballaigues and looking across to Mont Blanc;
our pilgrimages to churches and villages in Normandy, Provence
and the Morvan; our daily labours, side by side, at La Forclaz
(while the June snows and biting winds raged without); and,
most constantly, of course, our innumerable walks and talks by
the side of the Cam.

So I dedicate to you what is in every valuable respect your
own; well knowing that you will welcome what is good in it as
a little step forward in the studies which we both have at heart;
and, above all, hoping that you will regard it as a token of
abiding gratitude and affection from your pupil and friend.

H. X. i>.

August 1937

PROLOGUE

A faire felde ful offolke

PROLOGUE

A FAIRE FELDE FUL OF FOLKE

T he writing of a book on medieval life necessitates the
scrutiny, assembly, and arrangement of innumerable docu¬
ments and pieces of evidence, from which, by slow degrees,
some coherent pictures emerge. In this way a writer is enabled
to build up a series of studies, each revealing some facet of his
subject. But, while this enables him to put these various aspects
into focus the more clearly, it is apt to divert him from what many
will hold to be his chief duty—to see life steadily and see it
whole, and to present this vision to his readers. Such a vision,
however, is even more difficult to communicate than it is to
receive. It is comparatively easy to assemble detailed accounts
of various sides of the peasant’s life, but each of these accounts
must deal with the mass, so that the individual tends to recede
into the background. Yet it is as an individual human being,
living his normal life, that he is of interest.

Thomas Hardy’s poem, In Time of t( The Breaking of Nations ”,
tells us of his fundamental place in«the scheme of things:

Only a man harrowing clods
In a slow silent walk

With an old horse that stumbles and nods
Half asleep as they stalk.

Only thin smoke without flame
From the heaps of couch-grass;

Yet this will go onward the same
Though Dynasties pass.

This is the man our ideal picture would show us. Short of this,
in an attempt to show what I believe to have been his normal life,
I make bold at the outset of this book to draw an imaginary
picture of one such man during a few days of the year. In doing
so, I have not chosen one of the most well-to-do of the manorial
peasants, nor do I forget that many lacked even the rudimentary

, PROLOGUE

4

comforts and the limited possessions which this man had. And
although my picture is frankly imaginary, it is based on a wealth
of definite evidence and backed up by an almost equal wealth of
suggestions and hints, none of them in themselves clear or weighty
enough, perhaps, to be vouched as evidence, but, nevertheless,
possessed of a cumulative power which could not be denied.

The sun rose early, for it was late June, but not much earlier
than the peasants of the little village of Belcombe, in the year
1320. As the light strengthened, bit by bit the village became
visible, and the confused medley, in which here a roof and there
a bit of wall stood out, began to arrange itself as a narrow street
with flims y houses dotted about in little groups. In the centre of
it all the stone-built church loomed up high and very new-
looking above everything about it, and made the peasants’
houses appear small and insignificant. On closer view, the village
was seen to radiate from the church and down each of the winding
ways that led up to it the peasants had built their homes. There
they stood, some neat and trim, with their thatched roofs and
roughly finished walls in gpod repair, while others were dilapi¬
dated and showed evident signs of neglect and decay. The larger
houses stood a little back from the lane, so that the ground in
front of each of them was roughly enclosed and set with young
cabbage, onions and parsley, and here and there a few herbs were
growing along the sides of the pathway to the house. Most of
them had a rudely constructed shed or lean-to at the back of the
house, and running away from this stretched another enclosed
piece of ground. This was mainly broken up and planted with
vegetables, and both here and in the rough grass beyond there
were a few apple and cherry trees. At the bottom of the garden
where it ran down to the stream the pigs had their styes, and any
villager fortunate enough to own a cow tethered it there in
among the rankly growing grass. Smaller houses had meagre

A JUNE MORNING 5

plots about them, with sparse room for cabbage or onion, and
only rarely a pig or a few fowls.

Within most of these houses men were stirring, and before
long began to appear at their cottage doors, taking a look at the
sky before they ate a brief meal (if such it might be called) of a
lump of bread and a draught of ale. Then they came out again,
fetched their scythes and rakes from the sheds, and started off
down the street, so that for a few minutes the noisy chatter and
greetings of neighbours broke the silence. They soon passed by
the church and came out into open country, for no hedges or
fences were to be seen. One large tract, however, had clearly
been cultivated recently, for as they passed they saw how it was
divided into narrow plots, each with grassy raised strips dividing
it from its neighbours. Now, however, this field was fallow, and,
early as it was, one of their fellows was there before them, and
was guarding the sheep which were quietly feeding on such
sparse vegetation as was to be found, for the first ploughing had
already taken place, and next month any weeds the sheep might
leave would all be ploughed in.

A little farther on they passed a stone cross. Almost un¬
consciously (some even in perfunctory fashion) they crossed
themselves, and a moment later turned from the main path to
follow a track which led to a piece of meadow land. This, unlike
the fallow, was enclosed on three sides with a hedge, whilst a
little stream formed its other boundary. On entering the field
the peasants broke up in little groups, some going to one and
some to another part of the meadow, for amongst the long grass
there were little pegs and twigs marking off one portion of the
field from another. By this time the sug. was well up and the
dew was drying rapidly as they prepared for work. The wide
blade of the scythe was sharpened with the whetstone, and then
they turned, and with rhythmic movement began to mow the
grass in wide sweeping swathes.

In one comer of the field John Wilde and his two sons, Richard
and Roger, kept to their task for some time without pause. The

6 PROLOGUE

younger son moved steadily across the strip, turning the hay
which had been cut on the previous morning, while his brother
Richard worked on side by side with his father at the mowing.
Save for a pause when the scythes were re-sharpened they
worked without resting and with but little to say, for there was
much to do and time was short, since this was Sunday, and ere
long they would have to leave their work for Mass. Indeed, they
were fortunate to be on the field at all on such a day, but Sir
William, their vicar, had always been lenient in times of harvest;
and, although he looked with concern at such work, he did not
absolutely forbid it, so long as the Mass itself were not neglected.
So all three continued until the sun was getting well up in the
heavens, when they stopped their work and left the field together
with many others. As they passed the church J ohn glanced at the
Mass clock on its wall near the door, and saw by the shadow of
its style that they had good time before the service, as it was not
yet eight.

During their absence the house had not been untended, and
after a while the good wife Agnes and her daughter A 1 ice appeared
from a room which led out of the main living room. Alice ran
out in the garden close, and soon the clucking of the hens was
heard, and a little later she returned and set down on the wooden
bench inside the door a rough earthenware jar of milk which she
had just taken from the cow. Meanwhile, her mother had
brushed up the embers and had piled together the kindling and
a few logs, and already a fire was burning cleanly, and over it
hung a large metal pot of water. Then she and her daughter
went into the small inner room, which was cleaner and less
sooty than its neighbour, and pulled back the thick coverlets
and remade the only two beds that stood there. Once this was
done, the rough earthen floors of both rooms were swept out
with a brush of large twigs, and then the trestle-table was put in
its place near the side of the room. Some bread and a little ale
satisfied Agnes’ hunger, while Alice took a drink of the milk she
had just brought in. All being done, they turned to prepare for

PREPARATIONS FOR CHURCH

7

Mass. A large wooden tub on the trestle-table served for a wash¬
bowl, and after a little washing they occupied themselves for
some time in plaiting and arranging their hair, before they drew
out of a wooden chest, that stood at the foot of the bed, the bright
coloured dresses which they wore only on Sundays and festivals.
There were other childish garments in the chest, but they had
not been worn these many days, for they were those of the two
little girls, both dead now for ten years and more, one of the
plague, and one lost by what the coroner called “ misadventure ”,
What this was exactly her mother never knew; for, while she was
at play, she had fallen from the bridge over the big river, but no
one could be found to say what had taken her so far from home,
or how the end had come. Other children there had been, but
like so many others they had died at birth or very soon after, and
were no more than distant memories.

The return of the men-folk threw the cottage into confusion,
for there was little room, and they all tried to wash and dress
themselves for Mass at the same time. It did not take them long,
however—the old “tabard” or sleeveless smock with all its
traces of weekday work (“baudy tabard” Chaucer called it) was
discarded for that kept for Sundays and special occasions, and
they were ready. The bell was already ringing, and they moved
off and were soon joined by friends and neighbours as they made
their short journey to the church. John noticed that the low wall
which enclosed the church and the graveyard was rapidly breaking
down in several places: for many months now it had been crack¬
ing and stones falling away from it here and there, but nothing
had been done to repair it, in spite of the archdeacon’s periodical
warnings. On two or three occasions John had noticed that pigs
and sheep had wandered into the graveyard itself and had
started to graze among the tombs. But he had little time to
reflect on this, for his neighbours were pressing into the church
since the time for service had come, and even the men-folk, who
habitually lingered outside in little groups till the last moment,
had turned to go in.

8 PROLOGUE

So he entered with his wife through that selfsame door at
which they had stood when the priest had married them over
twenty-five years ago. They touched the holy water, and crossed
themselves as they moved into the nave, and there they parted
to take up their places on either side of the aisle. They remained
standing, as there were not yet even rudimentary seats or pews
for for this was not one of the richest village churches.
Only behind the chancel-screen were there any seats, hut these
were reserved for the clergy, although the lord of Homings
Manor and his family, when they were at the manor house, were
also privileged to seat themselves there. Hubert 1 .ongfellow, the
parish clerk, was the only other parishioner who had his seat
within the chancel, and that because he was a bachelor. His
predecessor had been a married man, and therefore, although he
was in Minor Orders, he was kept out and had to stand with the
ordinary congregation in the nave.

While they were waiting an animated conversation was going
on, but at last Sir William, the vicar, entered followed by the
parish clerk, and for a moment the congregation was still. As the
service began, however, many resumed their whisperings and
mutterings, while some lounged by pillars and seemed to be
taking but small notice of the service. The priest’s voice droned
on: here and there it was raised for a moment while he intoned
a prayer, or while he and the clerk sang their versicles and brief
responses. But, for the most part, even the keenest ear could
catch little more than an unintelligible murmur, interspersed with
a Dominus vobiscum, or Or emus, or Amen, which, by countless
repetitions, had familiarised itself to the ear. Even in those
churches where traditionally the priest read the sendee aloud,
it was not audible even to a Latinist, and the village congrega¬
tion rarely had any such lettered person among its number.
So the service went on its way, and John meditated awhile. It
was all very familiar to him, for ever since he was a child he had
faithfully attended the Sunday Mass—now these fifty years and
more—and, when his lord’s service did not forbid it, he fre-

WITHIN THE CHURCH 9

quently came on holy-days as well. He understood little, but yet
there was something about it all that was dear to him. He knew
that in some mysterious way Christ’s body was made anew at
this service: the bell would ring while the priest prayed, and
then, after a pause, Sir William would turn and hold up before
them all the blessed bread and wine now made God. But that
great moment had not yet come, and his thoughts wandered as
he looked about him in the high-roofed church. For a moment
his eyes fell on the painting of the Last Judgment which had
recently been renewed on the wall over the chancel arch. It
fascinated him to contemplate the calm and severe majesty of
Christ, as He sat enthroned in glory and meting out doom. The
ecstasy of the saved as they were caught up in the arms of the
angels, or the three naked souls cosily nestling in Abraham’s
bosom, were so vividly portrayed that his eyes lingered on them,
and only with reluctance turned to gaze on those damned souls,
who stood on the left hand of the throne of grace, and in varying
attitudes of pleading, fear and bewilderment expressed their
horrible condition. Others, even more fearful to behold, were
already enduring the tortures destined for them, as the devils
savagely seized them with flesh-hooks and pitched them into the
cauldron and the everlasting fire. m

Other pictures painted on the walls also told their story, and
recalled to him fragments of sermons and tales, especially some
of those told in the vivid and understandable language of a
passing friar. Their own priest had no such gift. Indeed, how
should he have such powers ? The marvel was that now, at this
very minute, the Latin phrases were flowing from his lips and he
was God’s minister to them all. Yet he had been born in this self-

41

same village, and was the youngest brother of John’s own wife
Agnes. He had always been about the church as a boy, and was
taught how to read and to sing the service by their old priest
Sir John Walters. Then, he had become the holy-water carrier,
and, little by little, had learnt all Sir John could teach him, and
had been sent away to school. And now, here he was, back in the

I0 PROLOGUE

parish, and living in the vicar’s house with its garden and stone
wall round it, hard by the church, and standing at the head of
tlipm all. As John looked at him he recalled some of his kindly
actions: no parishioner was too distant for him to visit if need
arose, and no one led a more model life than he. “ If gold rust,
what shall iron do? ”, was his watchword, and he taught his flock
more by what he was than by anything he was able to say. All
men knew him to be their friend, and yet there was something
about him which forbade men to be too familiar. Even his sister
regarded him with the awe bom of more than one snibbing he
had administered to her, and which her conscience admitted to
be just.

By this time, however, the Creed had been said, and Sir William
had come from the altar steps to the door of the rood-screen. He
looked grave, for it was but seldom that he attempted to teach
his flock in a set discourse, rather than by short explanations of
the main points of the Faith. But the bishop was constantly
urging upon the clergy the need for more sermons, and he must
obey. As he waited, his people settled themselves down, most of
them squatting in the rushes which covered the floor, while a
few lounged against the pillars and seemed to care little for what
was to come. When all were settled, he reminded them of earlier
sermons he had preached at intervals on the seven deadly sins,
and then turned to speak of the fourth of these, namely sloth.
Slothfulness kept men from church, and encouraged them to be
inattentive at Mass, and to put off the day of repentance till it was
too late. All this, as he said, would inevitably have to be paid for
in purgatory, unless they were truly penitent and shriven. Not
only in church, but in ordinary worldly affairs, idleness was to be
shunned, and young men and women should be made to work
and serve their masters with love and cheerfulness. Therefore,
parents must chastise naughty children, or they would grow up
idle and disobedient as were the sons of Eli. The tale of the death
of the prophet and his two sons followed, and Sir William con¬
cluded his short sermon by bidding his hearers to think on Eli

PLATE I

Asking the way

II

AFTER THE SERVICE

and his sons, and to chastise their children, and to see they learnt
to labour well and truly while there was yet time, and further tq^
think how best to labour for their souls as well as their bodies.

All this was listened to in comparative quiet, although a few
took but little notice of the discourse, and kept up a desultory
conversation among themselves; and throughout the nave there
was more whispering and occasional chatter than Sir William
liked to hear, but he was powerless to stop it, for no one could
remember when a little talking or even joking in church had been
forbidden. When the sermon was ended he went back to the
altar, and the service continued. Ere long the ringing of the bell
called even the most inattentive to their devotions, since the
great moment of the Mass had now come. Paternoster , Ave and
Creed were all that John could say, but these he repeated again
and again; and later, when he heard the priest intoning the Pater -
noster , he joined in heartily. Then, while Sir William was
rinsing his holy vessels, he prayed silently again until the service
came to an end with its Ite, missa est , and after the priest had re¬
tired, he too rose to leave. Many “ sons of Belial ” had not waited
so long, and had hurried off, as soon as the consecration had been
finished, as if they had seen not God but the Devil, for some
wanted to get to their work again* while others were only con¬
cerned to cross the green to the ale-house where they might
refresh themselves and gossip at their ease.

Once out in the churchyard again John stopped to talk with
his neighbours. One group was looking with interest at the
platform, which was as yet but half-erected, at the one end of the
churchyard. Here, in a week’s time, they would see the actors
from the neighbouring town, as well as some of their own folk
performing in the Miracle Plays. Hubert, the parish clerk, was
particularly skilful, and all remembered his performance as
Herod, “that moody King 7 ’, two years before, and also how
masterful it had been. Besides this, however, there had been
much to amuse them in the rough boisterous performances of
many of the actors. They hoped to see Cain bullying his boy at

12

PROLOGUE

the plough and ranting at his brother Abel, or Pilate shouting
^gnd raging as he had done the last time the plays had come. On
the other hand, John recalled the affecting scenes in which the
players had presented to them many of the poignant moments of
the Gospel story, and he and his mates discussed with zest the
scenes they would like to see again.

When he left this group he was stopped by two neighbours
who wanted him to join with them in some work waiting to be
done on their strips which lay side by side in the great east field.
This he promised to do towards the end of the week when he
had carried his hay; and, with a parting look at the sundial, he
moved from the churchyard, and caught up his wife and daughter
near their home. Agnes was full of news she had gleaned from
her gossips: Cicely Wode was to marry John ITeman of the
neighbouring town, and she and her old mother were to leave the
manor as soon as the marriage could take place. Matilda, the
reeve’s daughter, was in trouble, and would be accused at the
next Manor Court of incontincncy. Agnes Atwater had scalded
her legs badly by overturning a vat of boiling water in her brew-
house—and so on.

They soon reached their cottage; and, while the women-folk
went indoors to prepare the midday meal John went behind the
house and down to the bottom of the close where the pig was
kept- He emptied into the trough the remainder of a bucket
containing some sour milk and scraps of household waste, and
pulled up a few rank-growing weeds and threw them into the
trough. Then he turned to his garden and worked at this and
that, for he had a good conscience, and his brother-in-law, Sir
William, took a reasonable view of the Fourth Commandment.
At last Roger came to call him in to dinner. Meanwhile, Agnes
and her daughter had been busy in the house. The fire had been
made up, and the large pot, in which the soup of peas and beans
had been prepared on the previous day, was hung over it and
heated. The trestle-table was now standing in the middle of the
room, aiid the beechen bowls and spoons arranged on it* A few

SUNDAY AT HOME 13

mugs and an earthen jug filled with good ale stood ready, for
John was not one of those landless labourers in whom it was
presumptuous to drink anything more than penny ale. They alt
sat down, and soon were supping noisily the thick pottage and
eating with it large hunks of a dark coloured bread. A good l um p
of home-made green 1 cheese followed, and with this and mugs
of the good ale they made their simple meal.

There was much to be done in the garden at this time of year,
and John and his sons spent part of the afternoon in weeding and
thinning out their cabbages. Some of their neighbours returned
to the meadows and continued their haymaking, but John knew
how much Sir William disliked this, and how often he had
spoken against Sunday work, unless it were absolutely necessary
to avoid spoiling the crop. Hence he stayed at home, and did a
little here and there to clear things up in his garden. In this way
the afternoon wore on, and when John went into the house he
found that his wife and daughter had gone off to Vespers at the
church. Sir William liked to see a good congregation at this
service, especially on Sundays, and most of the women, and a
considerable number of men, attended this short simple service
as the day began to close. John’s sons, however, had but little
thought for this, for they were more interested in the pleasure
they hoped for a little later in the evening, and after a while
both left the house to forgather with their companions. When
Agnes returned, the evening meal was soon on the table, for
as it was Sunday they had already eaten the most substantial
meal of the day. Now they fared on a few eggs, a bit of oatcake
and some cheese. Both the women drank milk, but John refused
this, and said he preferred a mug of ale since some still remained
of his wife’s last brewing.

As the shadows lengthened they left the house, and a short
walk brought them on to the green, which looked at its best in
the evening light, and already many of the villagers were there.
Soon, to the sound of a rebeck and pipe the dancing began, for
* Green=fresh, new.

I4 PROLOGUE

here again Sir William’s moderate and friendly rule did not
prohibit the dance, although he had a sharp word for any whose
"behaviour on these occasions seemed to call for correction. The
measures were simple, and were trodden with an unaffected
grace which seemed to recall a happier and more innocent age—
far removed from the toil and difficulties of everyday life. Young
men and maidens with linked hands went through the evolutions
of the dance and smiled one at the other, and “ dallied with the
innocence of love”. Yet, even so, there were some matrons who
looked on with but half-approving eye, as if underneath the
gaming innocence there lurked who knew what dangers? Agnes,
partly from native prudery and partly as Sir William’s sister,
would not let Alice join in the dances, although her friends called
to her from time to time, and she darted envious eyes on Joan
and Cicely as they moved in concert to the music. Even while
they stood there the airs seemed to grow a little less restrained,
and very soon Alice and her mother moved away towards home.
The dances, however, went on, and as dusk fell and journeys
to the ale-house on the edge of the green became more common,
the shrill cries of the rebeck were answered by the shrill cries
and laughter of the girls, and by the lower laughter and si latches of
song of some of the men. John watched all this with an indulgent
eye, and sat for a while with some of his cronies on the ale-house
bench, and listened to the shouts and sounds of revelry coming
from within the devil’s chapel, as a friar had once called it, in a
sermon which told of how three men, after drinking and dicing
there, had set off to find Death so that they might slay him, and
of what had befallen them. The noise within grew louder:' * there
was laughing and lowering, and ‘let the cup go’”, and at last
Clement Cooke, notorious in the village for his inability to carry
his liquor, got up to go

.. .like a gleeman’s bitch,

Sometimes aside and sometimes backwards,

Like one who lays lures to lime wild-fowl.

As he drew to the door all dimmed before him,

He stumbled on the threshold and was thrown forwards.

THE “LOVE-BOON”

i5

John thought it was time for him also to get home, for there
was a good day’s work to do with the hay on the morrow, and
with a “Good-night” to his friends set off quickly. He soon
came to the church, which seemed very tall and new in the fast
fading light, and then, in a few minutes, he was once again at his
door. The house was dark, since for some time now their scanty
stock of rush-lights had been spent, though this was of small
moment for they were seldom to be found out of bed long after
dusk. He turned to go in, when a glance down the street showed
him Walter, the beadle, going from door to door. He knew well
what that meant, and had half feared his coming, so that he
waited only for a moment while Walter called out to him that the
lord had asked for a “ love-boon ” on the morrow. His own hay,
he reflected, would have to wait, and with a last look at the sky
and a hope for a few fine days, he went in and closed the
door.

The next morning saw another early start, for John knew well
the Lord Prior’s officers would be on the look-out for late¬
comers; and indeed, it was only a few years since they had tried
to insist on every one appearing at dawn. Though that had been
declared contrary to the custom of the manor when it had been
discussed at the Manor Court, and therefore had been quietly
dropped, nevertheless, it was still unwise to appear much later
than the neighbours. So John roused up the two boys, and Alice
as well, for on these days every one, save the housewife, had to
appear, and help with the lord’s hay. As they started they soon
met many neighbours: it was a far larger party than that of
yesterday, all making their way to the lord’s great meadow (for
on this manor all the Prior’s pasture was in one immense field)
which lay in the little valley to the west of the village, and through
the midst of which the streamlet flowed so sweetly. Soon after
they arrived they had been divided up into groups, and placed
in different parts of the field by the reeve and the hayward, who
bustled about from place to place to see that all was well and that
work was beginning in good earnest.

16 PROLOGUE

So to the music of whetstone striking on scythe the work
began, and the mowers bent to their task, sweeping down the
“grass in wide swathes, as they slowly moved from side to side of
the piece allotted to them. John was glad to see old William
Honiset already in the field. He could no longer use a scythe,
but he was very crafty in the straightening and sharpening of
obstinate blades, and the whole day long sat under a great beech
tree in one corner of the field with hammer and stone and put a
new edge on many a scythe before nightfall. As the sun rose higher
and higher the blades swung to and fro, while up and down the
field moved a man, with a stave in his hand, whose duty it was to
oversee the workers. John looked at him as he passed, recalling
his own early days, and how often he and the father of this man
who now stood over him had worked together in this very
meadow, for they had been partners, or “marrows", as the
country people termed it, and so did whatever was possible to
help one another. But, in his old age, his friend had bought his
freedom at a great price, for he had paid to the Lord Prior six
marks of silver, the savings of a lifetime, and as much as the
yearlyincome of Sir William, the vicar, himself. Mow, therefore,
his son was free of everything except a few small services from
time to time, of which this was one.

The workers paused to sharpen their scythes, or for a mo¬
mentary rest, or better still to listen while some belated arrival
poured his tale into the ear of an incredulous reeve, or while
some careless fellow, who was working in lazy or incompetent
fashion, was soundly berated by the hayward. At other moments,
again, there was a most welcome respite, for this was fortunately a
“wet boon ”, and old Alice atte Mere, who had only a tiny cot on
the edge of the village, held it on the homely tenure of carrying
ale to the workers at these boons. Hence, she was continuously
going to and fro from the manor house for reinforcements of
ale which the thirsty labourers seemed to consume almost as
soon as it was doled out to them. Although this was only the
drink rationed out to the manorial servants, and was not exactly

THE EVENING MEAL i 7

the corny ale—the melior cerevisia —brewed for the brethren of
the priory, yet, perhaps this secunda cerevisia was a more prudent
drink for the labourers, and certainly it seemed doubly delicious #
in the heat of the day. Steadily the work went on till wellnigh
noon, when at last the hay ward's horn was heard. John
straightened himself, and made for the shade with his com¬
panions. There they threw themselves down, and soon the manor
servants appeared, some carrying great loaves and cheeses, while
others brought the ever-welcome barrels of ale. John and his
family were given four of the loaves for themselves, and as they
cut them open they saw that these were the good wheaten loaves,
which so seldom came their way. They ate ravenously of these
and of the cheese after their six hours in the open air, and called
again and again for ale, of which there was no stint, for this was
one of the few days of the year on which the customal specified
that they were to 4 ‘drink at discretion".

After this meal there was a short welcome rest, and then they
went back to the field once more. Steadily the work went on, and
from time to time the now tiring mowers looked at the sky, and
watched the slow course of the sun over the big trees which
bordered the field. The girls and women busied themselves in
raking and turning the first cut hay, while the officials were
moving busily from place to place trying to keep the workers at
their tasks. At last the long-awaited sound of the hayward's horn
was heard, and in a few minutes the field was deserted, and old
and young were making their way and chattering together as they
went towards the manor house. The toil of the day was over, and
all that remained was the good evening meal that the Lord Prior
always gave them as a reward for their labours. As they reached
the manor house they saw that one of the large outhouses had
been made ready with trestle-tables down the centre and at the
sides of the building, and platters and mugs were soon laid out
ready for the repast. In the courtyard the great cauldrons were
steaming, and the hungry people were busy carving into hunks
the remainder of their midday loaves. Soon the manorial ser-

18 PROLOGUE

vants brought in the cauldrons, and a mess of thick pease pot¬
tage was served out, to which had been added a little meat for
* flavouring. This, and a draught of ale, took the sharp edge off
their hunger, and they awaited with pleasurable anticipation the
next course. The winter had been a hard one, and few of them
had been able to buy flesh, or to expect more than a bit of boiled
bacon from time to time. Some could afford to keep but few
chickens or geese, and had to exist as best they might on their
scanty produce, and on cheese and curds, with oatmeal cake or
thick oatmeal pottage to satisfy their evor-hungry children. This
and a sour bread of peas and beans had been the lot of many for
several months, so that the entry of the servants with great dishes
of roast meat caused a hum of satisfaction to go up around the
room. Each group tackled the portion set down before them
with eagerness, and with many a call to a friend here and a joke
with a neighbour at another table, the meal wore on. Ale flowed
liberally, and there was “cheese at call” for those who were still
hungry. When some of the women showed signs of wishing to
leave, the hayward blew his horn for silence, and the reeve
announced that if the weather remained fine there would be two
more boons on the Wednesday and the following Monday, and
by then he hoped all the hay would be cut and carried into the
great manor courtyard. Little by little the company dispersed,
most of them ready enough to get home and do whatever was
necessary about the house before they went to bed. John and his
family walked back together, and saw as they passed their own
meadow that Agnes had been at work during the day. The hay
that was dry had been raked up into small cocks, and she had
turned most of that which had only been cut the previous
morning.

Much of their time in the next few days was spent by the
peasants either on the lord’s hayfield or on their own. John had
but little more to cut on his allotted portion, and all was done by
the Wednesday evening. The following Friday he and his boys
spent the afternoon in loading it onto a wagon they borrowed

THE “MAD SHEEP”

1 9

from a friend, Roget the ox pulled it home, and they stored it
away in the little shed behind the house.

What little time John and his sons had from the haymaking
seemed to go all too rapidly in a variety of tasks. The work which
he had promised to do in the east field with his neighbours took
up the Thursday afternoon, and besides this they were hard at
work on an “ assart ” or clearing they were making near the edge
of the great wood. The prior had granted this to John only the
previous autumn; and, although it was but three acres in extent,
the work of grubbing up the furze and briars and cleaning the
land so that they could sow it this coming autumn seemed end¬
less. Richard spent all the time he could at this, for he hoped
one day to make this plot the site of a home for himself, since he
was now fully grown and eager to marry Johanna, the daughter
of William Sutton, an old friend of his father.

The other two days of work on the lord’s meadow passed much
like the first, except that there was no ale provided at the second
boon, for it was a “dry-reap”, but they had to work only till
midday. The last boon, however, surpassed all the rest, for not
only was there ale again, but other pleasures as well. As the last
load was carried from the field the hayward loosed a sheep in their
midst. All watched this poor frightened beast with interest, for
if it remained quietly grazing they could claim it for a feast of
their own, but if it wandered out of the field they lost it, and it
remained the lord’s property. As they looked on, restraining the
children from noise or sudden movement, the sheep gazed around
and then began to eat what it could find. Little did it think how
in lingering over this Esau’s mess it had sealed its fate.

All was not yet over, however. Indeed, many thought the best
was yet to come, and John and the other householders next
moved off to a part of the field where the reeve stood by a very
large cock of hay. Everyone knew what was to be done, and no
one wished to be the first to start. At last the reeve called on
Robert Day to begin, and with a sly look at some of his neigh¬
bours he gathered together a great mass of hay, and rapidly

20 PROLOGUE

bound it into a bundle. Then, carefully placing his scythe-head
under the bundle, he slowly raised it from the ground amidst the
' encouraging cries of the onlookers. Others were not so fortunate,
and some through greed or lack of skill were unable to raise the
load without letting the scythe-handle touch the ground, or still
more unf ortunate, without breaking the handle altogether. Ac¬
companied by the laughter and rude criticisms of their fellows,
they retired in confusion. So the ceremony went on till all had
had a sporting chance. Once this was over the farm servants
rapidly forked the remainder into a small cart, and accompanied
by the reeve and hayward left the field. John and his friends,
bearing their trophies aloft in victory, started happily for home.
For them it was a moment for rejoicing: the three “ boons ” were
over, and they knew that there were no further calls to be made
on them beyond the weekly service that went on from year end
till year end. Not before the Gules of August would any extra
works be again demanded of them.

Their happiness, however, was a little dashed within a few
minutes, for as they rounded a corner a small cavalcade rapidly
drew towards them. As the riders came nearer, John and his
friends recognised them, and when the party reached them all
the peasants doffed their hats and louted low, for the imperious
looking man who rode at their head, clothed in flowing garments
of fine black cloth, was none other than the cellarer himself. Two
others of the brethren rode just behind him, followed by two
servants. A few moments later John overtook old Margery who
had been at work at the Manor Court all day strewing the rooms
with rushes, and making the beds with sheets and counterpanes
—for these great ones demanded every comfort. On the morrow
the Manor Court would be held, and much time would be lost,
so John and his friends hurried on to do what they could
overnight.

On the next morning John was up and about his close from an
early hour, and this kept him busy until it was time to go to the
Manor Court. He called his two sons, for it was no ordinary

ai

THE MANOR COURT

court, but a Leet Court, at which all over twelve years of age
were bound to attend. Thus they started out, and reached the
manor house a little before eight, and waited about outside'
chatting aimlessly with their friends. At last the beadle camp
out, and summoned them all into the court room. They entered,
and found themselves in a long panelled room with a fine timber
roof which showed up well from the light that streamed in from
the large east window, as well as from the smaller mullioned
windows on either side. They took up their places on the rush-
strewn floor, and chattered away until the reeve and hayward
entered, followed by the beadle, whose command for silence was
still echoing in the hall when the cellarer entered from a side
door at the west end of the room. He took his seat on a raised
dais with his clerk by his side, and after the clerk had unfolded
the great parchment Court Roll, and had begun to write with his
quill the day and year of the Court, the cellarer nodded, and the
beadle cried out an “ Oyez ” thrice repeated, and ordered all who
had business and owed service to the Lord Prior of Honiwell to
draw near.

At once several men stepped forward: one asked for a neigh¬
bour to be excused attendance since he was sick in bed; another
pleaded that his friend was absent, in the King’s wars, while
others told the cellarer that their man was unable to attend for
various reasons, and pledged themselves to produce him at the
next Court. All these facts were noted by the clerk on his roll,
and then the reeve was told to put forward his pleas. First, he
presented Roger Ie Bachelor to the cellarer, and said that he
asked permission to take over the land of Alice Tunstall since
she was a widow with no children, and could not work the
twenty acres which were her holding. The cellarer allowed this,
and told Roger that he might hold the land at the same rent and
services as had Alice’s husband, and that he would have to pay
6 s. 8 d. as a fine for entry. Since he willingly agreed to this, he
was called forward, and the cellarer formally admitted him to the
holding, handing him, in token of the exchange, a white wand.

22

PROLOGUE

This done, Roger fell on his knees, and placing his hands between
„ those of the cellarer, swore “ so help me God and all His Saints ”
that from this day forth he would be true and faithful to the
Lord Prior, and should owe fealty for the land which he held of
him in villeinage, and that he would be justified by him in body
and goods, and would not take himself off the lord’s manor.

Next, the reeve told a long tale of many dilapidations that had
accrued since the last Court: some houses were falling into serious
disrepair; the path outside certain cottages was continuously
foul; many men had taken timber from the Lord Prior’s wood
without leave; three men—So he droned on, and John paid
but slight attention, for he was not conscious of having broken
any of the manorial laws, and only noticed with dismay that the
name of his brother Henry was constantly mentioned. All these
matters took but a short time, for no one denied his guilt, and a
fine of twopence or threepence was generally imposed by the
cellarer. The reeve then told the cellarer of the misdemeanours
of several men at the recent haymaking—of their late-coming,
their laziness or their impudence. These received short shrift,
and were fined twopence each, all except Richard Cook, who
spoke opprobrious words to the cellarer, for which he was
sternly rebuked and fined cixpence. Lastly, the reeve brought
forward Thomas Attegate, who told the cellarer how his son
was eager for book-learning, and how Sir William thought so
well of him that he wanted to send him to the grammar school in
the near-by town if this were allowed. After some questions the
cellarer gave his consent, on the assurance that the boy wished
to devote himself to learning in the hope of rising to the dignity
of the priesthood in due course. His father thanked the cellarer
in halting words, and paid the sixpence demanded of him for the
permission, and then fell back among his fellows once more.

After this the beadle called for the tithing men to come for¬
ward and make their reports. Each in his turn told the steward
of how matters stood in so far as he was responsible. William
Sleford presented that Richard Tubbing and Johanna atte Grcne

A PEASANT’S THOUGHTS

2 3

were common brewers and had broken the prior’s orders about
the sale of ale, and they were each fined twelvepence. John
Morgan presented that a stray horse had been found by one of
his tithing and surrendered to the beadle and was now in the
village pound. He also asked that William Bonesay might be
enrolled in his tithing as he was now twelve years of age. William
Cook complained that Richard Jamys had received one John
Freeman into his house, and that John was not in any tithing and
was suspected of being a night-walker and eavesdropper. Richard
was ordered to produce John at the next Court and to be ready
to answer for him. Lastly, John atte Hethe was removed from his
office of tithing man, and in his place William Craft was elected
and sworn.

So the proceedings came to an end; and, after the cellarer had
reminded them that the next Court would be held on that day
six weeks, he withdrew to his private chamber, and amid ^general
chattering the peasants began to disperse. John left the Court
with his sons who soon joined their own friends and set off home¬
wards. He, however, made a roundabout circuit so as to pass by
the great west field, for he was anxious to see how things were
coming on, for the whole week past had been so taken up with
haymaking and work elsewhere that he had had no time even to
do an hour’s work there. As he came round by the field his eye
rapidly moved from strip to strip and he saw there was much to
be done. St John’s Day was already past, so they must set to
work at once at the weeding, he thought, and he determined to
spend the rest of the day at this. For a few minutes before turning
homeward to his midday meal he sat down and looked across the
great field at the village as it straggled over the neighbouring
slope—a familiar sight, but dearer to him than any other place on
earth. There stood the church, clean and white in the midday sun,
and there a few hundred yards to the right his own little house
and its narrow close which, with his land in the common fields,
represented all he had in the world.

It seemed little enough, yet, he reflected, things might be

PROLOGUE

34

worse. The last winter had been hard, and the death of his only-
cow had made life even harder. Now, however, his twenty-four
half-acre pieces were all ploughed and planted with crops which
promised well, but everyone knew that twelve acres was none
too much, if more than the barest existence was hoped for. Last
year the crops had been poor, and for several months food had
been scarce, so that many of his neighbours had been half
starved, and nearly everyone in the village was forced to live on
victuals lacking in flavour or variety. The oats had been their
salvation: with oatcake and porridge, and with the bread they
had made from a mixed corn of barley and rye they had been able
to hold off the worst pangs of hunger; but for weeks on end no
meat or flesh, except an occasional chicken or something snared
by night in the prior’s woods, had come their way. Since then,
however, the summer had come, and the hay crop had been a
good one, and hope sprang up once again. At the next Court, he
thought, he would ask for leave to build a little cot on the piece
of new land they had been clearing near by the great wood.
Then Richard and Johanna could be married and live there, and
could grow something on the three acres to help them all to live.
His wife would know how to make the best of everything that
came into the house: no one could make a bushel of com go
farther than she. That was the root of his brother Harry’s
trouble. His wife had been careless and slatternly, and their
home was always uncared for and the meals ill-prepared. And
yet, despite it all, Harry had been heartbroken when she went off
with Thomas Oxenden, a rising burgess of Thorpston near by.
Since then, Harry had gone down hill fast: his holding was badly
kept, his house a disgrace, while his time was mainly spent with
bad friends snaring in the prior’s woods, or in drinking and
Hi tooral hay” at the ale-house. John reflected sadly as to the
end of all this, but what was to be done to stay it he could not
tell. Life was so strange and in his fifty odd years he had seen
ups and downs in the village. Some he had played with as a boy
had stolen away by night, and had been heard of no more; some,

THE MEDIEVAL COUNTRYSIDE 25

like his wife's brother, had become priests, and were now im¬
portant people; some, like his own brother, had lost their grip on
life, and had become a byword in the village. But there it was,
and each must abide his fate. As Sir William had often told
them, they were in the hand of God, and He and His holy angels
would protect them all their days. Then, as he rose to go, the
sound of the midday bell rang out clear over the fields. He
crossed himself, and after repeating an Ave , went quickly to his
own home.

Such, in my imagination, might have been a week in the life of
one of these peasants who will occupy our attention throughout
this book. It is imaginary, and as such may be sternly set on one
side by some. Nevertheless, there is little in it, I believe, that
cannot be supported by documentary evidence, and even that
little is sufficiently close to the documents to have a confident
chance of satisfying the majority of readers if they had time to
consider all the details which have gone to its making. It is true
that it represents but a few days in the life of one man, and that
at a particularly favourable moment of the year, and in a parish
blessed with a priest as worthy as was Chaucer's parson. The
remainder of this book will show clearly enough the difficult
existence which was all that most peasants could hope for.
Many such sketches would be necessary before any very clear
and valuable picture of the medieval scene could be obtained.
Yet a knowledge that medieval life was complex and infinitely
various must not dismay us, and prevent our attempting some
such synthesis. While medieval life had so many points at which
it was at variance with our own, so much of it was very like. The
life of the fields, in many particulars, has preserved its main
characteristics from earliest times. The rhythm of the seasons
carries with it all those whose lot it is to till the earth; and, despite
the unfamiliar conditions in which they lived, the people seem
as recognisable as does that countryside so vividly drawn for us
by the unknown author of Mum and the Sothsegger , 1 a poem of

1 Edited for the E.E.T.S. by M. Day and R. Steele, 1936.

26

PROLOGUE

the first few years of the fifteenth century. 1 In this the writer
tells us of how he climbed to the top of a hill, and there

I toumyd me twyes and totid 2 aboute,

Beholding heigges and holt3 3 so grene,

The mansions and medues mowen al newe,

For suche was pe saison of pe same yere.

I lifte vp my eye-ledes and lokid ferther
And sawe many swete sight3, so me God hclpe,

The wodes and pe waters and pe welle-springes
And trees y-traylid fro toppe to perthe, 4
Coriously y-courid 5 with curtelle of grene,

The flours on feeldes flavryng 6 swete,

The come on pe croftes y-croppid ful faire,

The rennyng riuyere russhing faste,

Ful of fyssh and of frie of felefold 7 kinde,

The breris 8 with paire beries bent ouer pe wayes
As honysoucles hongyng vpon eche half,

Chesteynes 9 and chiries pat children desiren
Were loigged vnder leues ful lusty to seen.

The havthome so holsum I beheulde eekc,

And hough pe benes blowid and pe brome-floures;

Peres and plummes and pesecoddes grene,

That ladies lusty loken muche after,

Were gadrid for gomnes 10 ere pay gunne ripe....

The conyng3 n fro couert courid pe bankes

And raughte 12 oute a raundom and retournyd agaynes,

Pleyed forthe on pe playne, and to pe pitte after,

But any hovnd henfe 13 paym, or pe hay-nettes u ....

The shepe fro pe sunne shadued paymself,

While pe lambes laikid a-long by pe heigges.

The cow with hire calfe and coltes ful faire
And high hors 15 in haras hurtelid to-gedre,

And priesid 16 pe pasture pat prime-saute 17 paym made....
I moued dovne fro pe mote to pe mid ward 3
And so a-dovne to pe dale, dwelled I no longer,

But suche a noise of nestling3 ne 18 so swete not3 19
I herde not pis halfe yere, ne so heuenely sounes
As I dide on pat dale adovne among pe heigges.

1 Op. dt. xxiv.
4 the earth.

7 manifold.

10 men.

13 caught.

16 praised.

19 notes.

* peered.

6 covered.

8 briars.

11 rabbits.

14 hedge-nets.
17 spirited.

* woods.

4 smelling.

* chestnuts.
w went.

w stallions.
18 nor.

The Church

CHAPTER I

THE CHURCH

I T is customary to set out on any survey of medieval peasant
life by attempting a description of the manor and its occu¬
pants, and this we shall have to do, however briefly, although
throughout our emphasis will be more on actualities than on
legal distinctions. But, before we come to that, it is essential to
realise that the peasant (in this respect like his betters) was part
of a great organisation whose power, now light, now heavy, con¬
tinuously pressed upon him. The Church meant more to
medieval man than we are ever likely to understand, but a little
imagination allows us to glimpse its force and its prestige. The
building itself, standing commonly in the centre of the village,
symbolised the place of the Church in medieval life. The great
moments of man's story on earth—baptism, marriage, burial—
centred in the sacred building. There, on Sundays at least, the
villagers heard Mass, and perhaps mattins and evensong as well:
there they learnt what little they were capable of retaining from
staring at the pictures on the walls or in the windows, or from
the infrequent and halting sermon of their village priest, or from
the picturesque and dramatic outpourings of a preaching friar.
And the village Church was the* more important because
medieval worship was still mainly a matter of congregational
worship—the altar, the chantry, the shrine were the places the
villager came to naturally when he wished to express his religious
aspirations. Whatever part family devotions may have played
(and we have little evidence of any such happenings) it was to
their parish church and to the parish clergy that men turned for
instruction, consolation and refreshment.

Nor must we think that religion was a thing for Sundays,
hastily assumed as men approached the church. It is probable
that the peasant was unable to attend except on Sundays or
great Saints’ days, but his life was not thereby divided into two
compartments—religious and secular. Rather the shadow of the
Church was about him in his fields or in his close; as he laboured
on the edge of the forest or carried his load to the neighbouring

THE CHURCH

30

mill. The Angelus, which J. F. Millet’s nineteenth-century
peasants heard at midday in their fields, was a post-Reformation
-practice, but the Mass-bell earlier in the day had sounded down
the ages, and had summoned the fourteenth-century peasant in
similar manner:

And 3ef y ow may not come to chyrche,

Where euer ]?at fow do worche,

When fow herest to masse knylle,

Prey to God wyp herte stylle . 1

And there was much besides to remind him of his fellowship and
of his duty to the Church. As he moved about the manor he
would see the wayside crosses and the local shrines, where from
time immemorial prayers had been said and offerings made. In
most places he could see from the hillside the spires of many a
church, and the walls of abbeys and priories enclosing great
buildings which were bywords in the village for their opulent
splendour and vast design. If we add to this the constant passage
of wandering friars, of ecclesiastics on business, the occasional
palmer and the more frequent groups of pilgrims, the daily
meetings with the parish priests or his assistants and underlings,
we begin to realise how omnipresent the Church of the Middle
Ages must have seemed to the toilers of the fields.

Nor did it rest at this. The Church was not passive—a kindly
mother waiting the coming pf her children. The medieval Church
was the Church militant in many ways, and her contacts with the
peasant were not solely those of love and mansuetude. When her
rights or privileges were in question no medieval lay-lord was
more instantly in arms, or fiercer upon his quarrel. The tithe
barn was an ever-present reminder of the power and needs of
the Church; and many a man must have played the part of Cain
in the Towneley play of The Killing of Abel, where we see him
grudgingly looking over his sheaves, selecting the worst for his
tithe, and grumbling all the time . 2 Again, at the death of any
man the Church frequently stepped in and claimed his second-
best beast as a mortuary. This was a severe tax, and was felt the
more since the lord of the manor claimed the best beast as a

1 Myrc, Instructions for Parish Priests (E.E.T.S.), 11 . 1603 ff.

* Towneley Plays (E.E.T.S.), 15, and see p. 330.

THE FEAR OF DEATH 31

heriot on these occasions. 1 Then there were the Mass pennies to
be paid, and the Peter’s pence to be found from time to time,
while the light-scot and the church-scot recalled to the peasant -
other of his obligations to Holy Church.

And, as if this were not sufficient, in the majority of villages
the priest strove with the serf to win a living from the products of
the earth. He was priest first, but agriculturist after; or, as an
early Parson Trulliber, he might even be primarily an agri¬
culturist. His beasts fed side by side with those of his
parishioners on the commons, and he bargained at the neigh¬
bouring market against his fellows in the hope of making a good
purchase, or of effecting a profitable exchange.

So it was not easy for the peasant to forget his Church with
these things set visibly about him and backed up by even more
powerful, though invisible, forces constantly at work upon his
conscience and his imagination. It is scarcely too much to say
that medieval life was haunted by the all-important fact that it
was a man’s last moments which mattered. “ In the place where
the tree falleth, there shall it lie” (Ecclesiastes xi. 3); as he died,
so would he live again. Nothing could overcome the fact of
death and its concomitants—judgment and doom. Not only in
those fearful paintings which covered the walls of many a church,
but in those more permanent “Last Judgments”, carved in
stone on the facade of cathedral and abbey church, were to be
seen the sufferings of the damned and the joys of the faithful.
And since the Church taught that a soul, even in the article of
death, could be saved or lost, the idea of death and of preparation
for death was constantly brought before men’s minds by these
things. And all this was emphasised by sermons and exhorta¬
tions such as were to find their later and more artistic counter¬
parts in Sir Thomas More’s The Four Last Things , or in the
sombre eloquence of Donne. Well indeed might medieval men
have forestalled Marvell’s cry:

Yet at my back I alwaies hear
Times winged Charriot hurrying near:

And yonder all before us lye
Desarts of vast Eternity.

1 See below, p. 143.

THE CHURCH

3^

If we could imagine with any clarity the narrow warped minds of
the mass of the medieval English peasantry, we should easily
* realise how much such men must have been influenced by the
carvings and paintings they saw about them in the church, and
by the legends of Saints and the Fathers, the main incidents of
the Gospel story and by the insistence on death and the life to
come. Even though it is probable that many men and women
were not eager and convinced believers, yet even these were more
prepared to believe than to disbelieve. They lacked an active
conviction, but yet had nothing strong enough to hearten them
in a denial of the accepted faith. So the insistence of the Church
was too strong for them: Timor mortis conturbat me had been so
often repeated that it beat its way into even the dullest brain in
time. And as with this, so with other of the doctrines of the
Church.

It is necessary to emphasise the part played by seeing and
hearing, for they were the peasants’ only means of communica¬
tion. Few indeed could have read the Mass Book and Prymer,
even had they been easily available, and the Church was, per¬
force, the Poor Man’s Bible, though it was a meagre substitute
for the book we know. Modern scholars have shown how little
of the Bible was ever depicted on the walls of the church, and in
how travestied a form it was often displayed. At the same time
large parts of what is religiously richest and best in it were
unsuitable and neglected *as pictorial material. Symbolism (so
far as it was to be found in the village church) no doubt tried to
meet the needs of the illiterate, but symbolism was a very vague
and unsettled method of communication, and gave rise to in¬
numerable errors and rash speculations.

Since these things helped him so little, the peasant could only
watch with dim comprehension “the blessed mutter of the
Mass”. The Church had done her best, and had turned her
central service into a great mimetic rite. She had given this a
ceremonial elaboration that made it immediately popular, but its
very elaboration had excluded the simple from more than a dis¬
tant participation. The author of the Lay Folks’ Mass Book does
explain the meaning of the symbolical acts of the Mass to those
who can read, but all he can advise the unlettered to do is to say
the Pater and the Ave over and over again during the course of

THE VILLAGE PRIEST

33

the Mass. 1 So the services, the symbolism, the paintings and the
rest were but dim imperfectly apprehended things which years of
use had made part of their being, but which demanded some #
living touch to make their meaning clear to such simple folk.

This touch should have come from the priest, but there can be
no doubt that the medieval priesthood was not fully prepared for
such an undertaking. The cry of Archbishop Peckham, that heads
his constitutions of 1281, “The ignorance of the priests casteth
the people into the ditch of error”, is re-echoed centuries later
by Wolsey. Clerical ignorance was widespread throughout the
parishes, and the villager oftentimes could not hope to learn very
much from his priest. Langland’s portrait of Sloth the parson,
who knew neither Beatus vir nor Beati omnes , but who rejoiced in
rhymes of Randolph of Chester and Robin Hood, would seem
impossible but for the strictest evidence of the Bishop’s Registers
which confirm its main lines in a striking fashion. In many
parishes the priest only stumbled through some homily or sermon
(his own or another’s) on the statutory four times a year, and
“left his shepe encombred in the mire” for the rest. In a good
many other instances the evidence suggests neglect even of these
statutory four. With so feeble a guide the villager could not get
far on his quest for Truth, and there is little wonder that his
religion was frequently a thing of “ use and wont ”—part sincere,
part convention, part pure magic.

Not only this, but, as we have seen, the priest was far from
being the kindly cultured patron of the village such as he has
often shown himself in the past two hundred years. He was
more likely to be a hard-hearted man of business, and frequently
was a stranger brought into the parish, by influence or by his
ecclesiastical superiors, with little in common with his parishioners
except his determination to overcome the difficulties incident
upon medieval agriculture, and his eye for a bargain. As modem
observers in France and Italy have pointed out, the coming of
the priest into a house was often so rare an event that at his
arrival the village at once feared the worst! “E venuto ilprete
sounds like a death-knell to the family.” 2

1 Myrc, op . cit. 11 . 60, 82, 152, etc.

2 L. D. Gordon, Home Life in Italy , 231; cf. N. Sabord, Le Buisson d’fipines,
237, for modern examples, and the stories of J. de Vitry (ed. T. Wright),
77, no, for medieval feeling on this matter.

BL

3

THE CHURCH

34

But when we think we have begun to appreciate the villager’s
mind, thus encompassed by his hopes and fears of the Church,
►we have but half done. “The broad shadow of the Cross lay
over the whole medieval world”, Mr B. L. Manning writes; 1
and, while we heartily agree with this, we have still to remember
that other—perhaps broader—shadow that darkened medieval
life and thought—the shadow of “ the Devil and all his works
This was no abstraction for the peasant, but eveiy corner of his
fields and every comer of his home were liable to harbour some
agent of Hell who could harm him unless it were exorcised and
overcome.

For we must remember how circumscribed was the world in
which the majority of these people lived. Their village was their
world: beyond, some ten or twenty miles led to the local shrine
or the great fair, and there, perhaps, once or twice a year they
made their way; but, for the most part, their lives were ground
out in a perpetual round from one field to another, and so to the
next, London seemed very far off—almost as far as Rome or
Jerusalem itself. Hence, they were easily impressed by “the
wonders of the world ”—and fact and fiction were indistinguish¬
able to them. Even the greatest minds were curiously limited
(according to our modem conceptions of knowledge): Aquinas
could talk of the power of miracles, and enforce his argument
that “it may seem miraculous to him who hath no comprehension
of that power; as to the ignorant it seemeth miraculous that the
magnet draweth iron, or that a little fish holdeth back a ship ”. a
Similarly, all the chroniclers mingle fact and fiction in a be¬
wildering fashion, and vagueness and confusion are of the very
stuff of their information. It is not surprising, therefore, that the
uneducated peasant, who relied on gossip and the stories of
passing travellers, should be credulous and superstitious.

Superstition, which feeds and grows on ignorance, was indeed
encouraged by the most powerful of the peasant’s teachers—the
clergy. The Church consistently showed itself slow to acknow¬
ledge the claims of human reason, which it saw pressing for
recognition on all sides. Dissection, for example, was for long

1 The People’s Faith in the Time of Wyclif, 15.

2 Quoted from Sionma Contra Gentiles, Lib. in, cap* 102, by 3 Dt Coulton
in his Social Britain, 53a, commenting on Trevisa’s account of this fish
“ scarcely a foot long ” I

SUPERSTITION

35

forbidden, and the doctor of medicine was frequently suspect—
Ubi tres medici , duo athei. And it must be admitted that medicine
and magic had much in common, and the Church had reason to
fear these men whose “study was but little on the Bible”, and
whom her own restrictions had roused to antagonism. At the
same time the fear of reason was so great that wherever the
Church could do so it stifled free enquiry: even so great and
orginal a mind as that of Roger Bacon fought for wellnigh a
lifetime against the opposition of his ecclesiastical superiors.
Most men, possessed of a less robust and enquiring intellect,
jogged along unreflectingly content, and scarcely aware of the
cramping effects of Church discipline. With all the innocence in
the world they tended their congregations, unaware of any breath
of the advancing thought and knowledge which was to threaten
their own existence. Their very teaching was pernicious in so far
as it encouraged in the peasant those qualities of superstition
and belief in magic that lurk in the background of all uneducated
peoples.

From earliest times they had endeavoured to give a Christian
interpretation to old pagan customs and legends rather than to
stamp them out. 1 Thus wells once under the protection of pagan
gods were placed under the care of the Saints. The setting of
the Midsummer Watch, the May Day ceremonies, the innu¬
merable rites associated with the various agricultural seasons all
had their roots in the past, and had to be adapted to the Christian
religion as best they could.

Then again, there was a wealth of legend, fable, lives of saints
and myths, all of which were widely disseminated throughout the
Middle Ages and did much to increase the ready acceptance of
the supernatural. One example will serve: the fifteenth-century
translation of the Alphabetum Narrationum contains a collection
of stories such as were used by itinerant preachers to lard their
sermons for their unlettered audiences. Almost every story is

1 See the famous letter of Gregory the Great to Mellitus and St Augustine
(June 601) instructing them to so order their actions that “the people will
have no need to change their places of concourse, where of old they were wont
to sacrifice cattle to demons, thither let them continue to resort on the day of
the saint to whom the church is dedicated, and slay their beasts no longer as
a sacrifice, but for a social meal in honour of Him whom they now worship M .
Bede, Hist . Eccl I, 30.

3-a

THE CHURCH

36

concerned with the part played by magical agency: an angel saves
a damsel from death; the Ave Maria, said with devotion, over-
* comes a devil; the crucifix makes a sign of anger and stops its
ears; the power of St Dominic’s prayers draws down the Virgin
and two angels to anoint a sick man, and so on. The mere
reminder of such compilations as those earliest Lives of the
Fathers in the Desert; the Dialogtis Miraculorum of Caesarius
of Heisterbach, or the Gesta Romanorum, should be sufficient to
satisfy us of the medieval belief in the widespread nature of
supernatural powers working for and against mankind.

Not only the teaching but the services did much to inculcate
the belief in magic. We have seen that the unlettered could but
imperfectly follow the service of the Mass, and superstition was
actively encouraged by the tales told of the wonders worked by
the Host, and of the benefits which came to those who had re¬
cently received the Sacrament. Such tales reposed on the theo¬
logical doctrine of the opus operation —the virtue of Masses even
apart from the disposition of the worshipper or recipient. Hence,
there was no witchcraft which the Host could not perform, and
thus arose a body of tales.

Because these stories glorified the Sacrament the layman was en¬
couraged to believe that the saying of a Mass could remove iron
fetters from a knight’s body, or sustain a miner who had been buried
in a pit; that a man whose sickness prevented him from receiving the
bread in the usual way received it through his side near his heart; that
blindness would not strike the fortunate eyes which saw the Host
carried to the sick. To increase the offerings of the devout they were
told that a penny offered at Mass would secure an increase of worldly
wealth as well as freedom from their sins. 1

What wonder if men went further for themselves, and regarded
the Host as a charm and placed it among the beehives to prevent
the death of the bees, or scattered it in fragments over the
cabbages to keep off caterpillars.®

In addition to the kindly magic of the Saints and of the re¬
formed pagan gods there was still the fearful and ever-present
black magic of the Devil. He was all-powerful, and in lonely
places, by the shores of lake and forest, and in the desolate

1 Manning, op. cit . 79.

* Caesarius of Heisterbach, Dist. tx, §§ 8

POPULAR BELIEFS 37

wastes and high mountains, his agents roamed about seeking
whom they might devour, and at times could be heard and some¬
times even seen. A quotation from a modem work describing r
the feelings and beliefs of a French peasant of yesterday indicates
something of the world in which—to an intenser degree—his
English brother of five hundred years ago lived and believed.

Blandin etait de ceux qui, le matin du premier mai, plantent dans
leur fumier, pour le preserver des serpents qui voudraient y faire leur
nid, un arbuste orne de rubans. Le dimanche suivant il allait a
Teglise pour y faire benir, a Tissue de la messe de huit heures, des
baguettes de noisetier attachees en faisceau. De retour aux Yemes il
les plantait dans ses deux champs et dans son jardin pour les preserver
de la grele. Il savait que, s’il venait a tonner lorsqu’il coupait du bois,
il devait tenir sa hache le tranchant en Fair: la foudre, si elle s’avisait
de tomber sur lui, serait fendue. Ni la Blandine, ni la petite Jeannette
n’eussent fait la lessive pendant les Quatre-Temps, ni les jours de
vigile et de jeune, ni entre Noel et la Chandeleur. Ils savaient tous
que le cri du geai est bon signe, que la chouette et la pie sont des
oiseaux de mauvais augure, qu’il ne faut pas se marier au mois de
mai, sous peine qu’un des nouveaux epoux meure bientot apres. La
poule qui veut imiter le chant du coq annonce un malheur.

Tout cela faisait partie des choses que Ton ne comprend pas. Ils
n’&aient pas seulement au milieu de Thiver et de la misere humaine;
ils vivaient entoures de mysteres. Le monde etait habite par des forces
obscures qu’ils divinisaient. Faibles, ils les sentaient liguees contre
eux. Ils tachaient tantot de se les rendre favorables par des invocations
et des signes, tantot de conjurer leur mauvais vouloir par d’humbles
sacrifices, tantdt, enfin, de deviner leurs dispositions au moyen
d’indices surs qu’ils tenaient de leurs ancStres . 1

Such then was the background of the peasant’s life—a back¬
ground full of terrors and haunting suggestions, as well as one
bringing him comfort and hope of another world. We shall see
more of this after we have studied the peasant’s daily life and
activities on the manor, but it was necessary at the outset to
emphasise the presence of this all-important side of things—the
more so because (quite naturally) our legal and economic his¬
torians, in writing about medieval life, do not often take it into
account.

1 H. Bachelin, Le Village , 36.

The Manor and its cultivation

CHAPTER II

THE MANOR AND ITS CULTIVATION

M edieval England was almost exclusively rural Eng¬
land, and rural England congregated in small groups of
. people, here fifty, here a hundred, and (much less often)
here several hundreds, living in rude houses which clustered
together in some places, while in others they straggled endlessly
down the village street. Agriculture and its allied occupations
engaged the energies of everyone as they strove to win a living
from the soil. These small groups, on closer examination, are
often found to be sharing certain rights and privileges and to be
discharging certain duties, under the protection and control of a
lord. There were many thousands of these little groups through¬
out England, and they formed the manorial society which existed
for some hundreds of years after the Conquest. The origin of
the manor, however, and how, and to what extent, the country¬
side had become manorialised are not discussed here: it is not the
origination of the manor, but how men lived and what happened
to them under the manorial system that is the main concern of
this study. At the same time much of it will also necessarily be
concerned with those peasants who were not directly controlled
by manorial organisations, but who won a living with their hands
as best they could, for both they and the villanus , or serf of the
manorial system, were primarily agriculturists.

Even when we confine ourselves to those men who were under
manorial control we do not necessarily find them living under
identical conditions because they are living in the same area.
The manor and the village were by no means interchangeable
terms. Sometimes, it is true, everybody in the village was the
tenant of a single lord, but frequently one village was divided up
among two or more manors. This is admirably shown, for ex¬
ample, by Professor Kosminsky’s study of the Hundred Rolls,
where he finds that “ out of 650 vills described and investigated,
336 are not identical with manors”; and, he adds, “In North¬
umbria, the Danelegh and East Anglia the co-incidence is (we

THE MANOR

43

already know) extremely rare”. 1 As a result of this it was
possible for two men to be living in the same village, and each
holding the same amount of land; but, because they served dif¬
ferent lords, they might find themselves very unevenly burdened
with services and rents. Yet, heavy or light, they both led the
same type of life; and therefore, in seeking to understand the
medieval peasant, we need not place undue emphasis on these
differences so long as we remember their existence, and are
ready to consider what effects they finally encouraged. 2

Our enquiry, then, will be mainly concerned with the effects
of the man orial organisation roughly between the years 1200 and
1350—a period which saw it at the height of its powers and yet
also certainly declining towards its fall. Only the conditions of
peasant life as determined by the manorial system will be dis¬
cussed here, and many problems connected with the rise of the
manor and its relation to the vill will be left untouched. 3 In so
doing we shall, no doubt, assume a uniformity of organisation and
conditions that more detailed investigations of limited areas will
challenge or even deny. 4 “ To ask for a definition of the manor ”,
said Professor Maitland, “is to ask for the impossible”, and
more recent workers have given us reason to believe that con¬
siderable parts of England were never manorialised at all. Yet,
even so, one of the most brilliant of recent disintegrators of the
manorial system admits that, “ although it is true that we can no
longer regard the large estate with villeins and labour service as
the ‘ constituting cell ’ of English society in the thirteenth cen¬
tury, such estates do, nevertheless, form an important section of
economic life.” 6 Again, we may take encouragement from the
words of Professor Ashley when he writes:

The manorial system is no doubt often conceived of as more

1 Econ. Hist. Rev., vol. v, No. a, p. 30. Cf. Year Book, 3/4 lid. II, is;
F. G. Davenport, op. cit. 7.

s See chapter xi, where the question of the part played by unequal services
in the desire for freedom is discussed.

s The standard books on this subject are still Vinogradoff’s well-known
monographs: The Growth of the Manor; Villainage in England; and English
Society in the Xlth Century. With these go Seebohm’s masterpiece, The
English Village Community and Maitland’s Domesday Book and Beyond.

4 See, for example, the excellent studies of F. M. Stenton on the Danelegh;
those of D. C. Douglas on Medieval East Anglia and those of J. E. A. JolliiTe
(E.H.R. 1926) on Northumbrian conditions.

5 Econ. Hist. Rev., vol. v. No. 2, p. 44.

THE MANORIAL “WEB”

43

symmetrical and universal than it ever was in fact. But was it not
sufficiently similar over large stretches of time and space to make it the
most useful preliminary framework round which to gather the new.
material, if only care be taken at once to lay stress on the multiformity
of actual life ? 1

It is with this point of view in mind that this essay has been written.

Let us begin then with a single village and the lands sur¬
rounding it, assuming for the sake of simplicity that it is all held
by one lord. Whatever shape the actual village took—a shape
determined by many factors 2 —in nearly every village the peasants
lived in small houses, placed side by side, each often having a
little enclosure or plot of ground behind it. Around the village
and stretching away lay the common fields—the arable land—
which in many ways formed the most notable characteristic of the
manorial organisation. The history of the origination of these
field-systems, again, is not our subject: 3 our concern is with their
cultivation and the part they played in the life of the peasant.
Besides these common fields there were the meadows: almost as
vital to the community as the arable. Then, again, there were the
commons on which the villagers had grazing rights, and beyond
them stretched the “waste”, and the woods and forests.

Such was the enclosing framework, “the web ”, as Dr Coulton
calls it, “within which the medieval peasant lives and moves and
has his being”; and, he adds, “it is a very complicated tissue,
which we must take into account before we can understand his
daily life”. 4 It is indeed a “complicated tissue”, and one not
easy to understand in all its details, but perhaps our best plan
will be to start from the church in the centre of the village and
so work out to the very edges of the manor. Imagine, then, a
little village, with its groups of houses, each of them with its
garden and here and there an enclosed stretch of meadow.
Beyond them stretches the open country, and at a closer view it

1 Econ. Joum ., June 1926, reviewing The Medieval Village , by G. G.
Coulton.

2 For discussion of this, see Geographical Journal , xxix, 45-52.

3 The best monograph is that of H. L. Gray, English Field Systems. This
investigates the geographical distribution of the two- and three-field system in
England, and attempts to explain the way in which special conditions, such as
those in Kent or East Anglia, are to be accounted for. His work must be
corrected, however, by such special studies as those of Stenton, Douglas, etc.
mentioned above.

4 Med. Village , 37.

THE MANOR

44

becomes dear that immediately in front of us is a large arable
field. Unlike a modem farm it seems to have no boundaries—at
least there are no hedges, dividing one part from another, and
nothing to prevent us from walking across its length and out into
the grazing lands beyond. A closer examination, however, will
show us that this great field is, nevertheless, divided up into a
number of compartments or large divisions. These go by many
names—furlongs, shots, dells—and each of these compartments
is again subdivided into a certain number of strips (or selions),
each divided from the other by raised balks of unploughed land.
The strips run parallel, one to the other, the whole length of the
furlong or shot, and are generally found to contain half an acre or
one acre of land. At right angles to them run the “headlands”
—unploughed portions which give access to the strips in that
furlong, and also to the other parts of the great field.

As we shall see, the peasant did not hold all his strips in one
convenient block, but had them allocated to him in various parts
of this, and of the other great fields of the manor. This was a
principle of great antiquity: it is of the essence of these peasant
holdings that they shall each be of comparatively small size and
scattered over the whole of the common fields.

The very term, “the common fields”, reminds us that much
medieval farming was a co-operative affair. But we are by no
means as dear as we should like to be as to how far this was so
in actual practice. The generally accepted theory envisages the
peasants carrying out all the principal occupations of agriculture
in common. Reasons will be given later for thinking that there was
more individual enterprise than has been imagined, but we may
begin by admitting that the fields were cultivated according to a
plan which had the sanction of time immemorial, or of general
village consent, and that everyone had to fall in with this. Indi¬
vidual cultivation of any particular crop was almost impossible
and had to be reserved for the little “ doses ” round the home, or
for the “assart” land newly brought into cultivation by the
peasant, and which lay outside the “common fields” and was
generally on the outskirts of the manor. In the common fields,
however, when oats were sowed by one they were, perforce, sown
by all. The most considerable operation, of course, was ploughing,
and how far this was a communal affair it is hard to tell. Clearly,

COMMUNAL OPERATIONS

45

the most economical way would have been to yoke the oxen of
various peasants together in one plough-team, and to have worked
over the whole field, furrow by furrow, just as the peasants were
forced to plough the lord's demesne by communal labour. We
imagine that this is what was done, but little definite evidence
exists to support this view. On the other hand, Dr Coulton has
drawn attention to a passage in Piers Plowman which, as he says,
“seems to point clearly to a good deal of private ploughing and
reaping". 1 The dishonest peasant in Piers Plowman confesses:
“If I went to the plough I pinched so narrowly that I would
steal a foot of land or a furrow, or gnaw the half-acre of my
neighbour; and if I reaped, I would over-reap (i.e. reach over
into my neighbour's ground), or gave counsel to them that reaped
to seize for me with their sickles that which I never sowed." 2
We may emphasise this point by noticing another example of
this kind of dishonesty which is mentioned in Robert Mannyng
of Brunne's Handlyng Synne. Here we read of “false husband¬
men who falsely plough away men's lands, [and] take and plough
away a furrow of land through and through". 3 And when we
turn from literature to the records we find some evidence of a
similar nature. An instance occurs at Thomer, in 1365, which
suggests that communal operations were unusual, and that
private agreements were resorted to at times. We read that “John
de Roch complains of Robert de Eltoft on a plea of agreement.
John comes and says that on a certain day and year he made a
pact with the said Robert that they should be partners for
ploughing the land of the said John and Robert with equal
animals going to the plough, which partnership is called mar¬
rows, for a year only; and concerning this Robert in no wise held
to the pact, etc. ”* Now this phrase “which partnership is called
marrows " is defined in the fifteenth-century Promptorium Parvu -
lorum as “ a felowe yn travayle (or mate)". A nineteenth-century
glossary of Antrim and Down states that the term still exists,
and means “to lend horses and men for labour to a neighbour,
and to receive a similar loan when needed "—exactly the meaning

1 Med . Village , 42. 3 Piers Plowman , B. xni, 371; C. vn, 267.

* Op. cit. 11 . 2445-8. Cf. the original from which Mannyng was translating,
“ Ki autru teres unt arer, Ou en autru semail a tort entrer.” In France those
guilty of this offence were called mangeurs de rates . See M. Bloch, op. cit . 38.

4 Thoresby Soc. xv, 168.

THE MANOR

46

attaching to the term at Thorner in 1365. 1 The survival of this
term centuries later, and in another part of the British Isles,
strongly suggests that the practice was persistent and widespread.
If this can be maintained, then we are forced to imagine that co¬
operation was often left to individuals, and was not so universally
a village or manorial matter as has generally been believed. Such
a belief received encouragement from the undoubted fact that
the peasants were forced to yoke their animals side by side with
those of their neighbours so as to make up the teams they had to
supply when the lord’s demesne lands required ploughing. This,
and other activities, such as mowing the lord’s hay, or reaping his
com, they discharged as a body, and because of this it was easy
(though unjustifiable) to think of them doing likewise on their
own acres. On the contrary, it would seem that individual enter¬
prise was not at all uncommon. The fact that a man could en¬
croach upon his neighbour’s strips, or that he is at times found
reaping another man’s com suggests individual labour, and en¬
courages the belief that co-operation was local, sporadic and a
matter for individual arrangement.

Perhaps the strongest argument against individual enterprise
is its absurdly wasteful character. But medieval agriculture was
absurdly wasteful, and there can be no doubt that the common-
field system exacted a heavy toll from its workers. This is abun¬
dantly shown, both from contemporary records and from the
more scientific and detailed accounts of common-field conditions
given by investigators of more modern times who have inspected
those areas where the old conditions have survived from the past.
Waste of time and effort was caused by the piecemeal nature of
the normal holding. A man with thirty acres would find these
spread out in twice that number of strips which were distributed
over the east, south and west fields of his village. As time went
on, in some parts of England further subdivisions of these original
holdings made matters more complicated, and increased the
amount of time wasted. 2 Again, one or two careless or lazy

1 In Germany the same practice was still observed in 1870. See Land
Tenure Reports , 406.

2 See, for example, the fields of Rampton (Cambs) where in a part of one of
the fields the strips are held by the following: M, D, H, B, N, G, B, G, D, C,
F, C, E, K, F, B, K, E, C, D, P, C, F, E, H, E, E, D, C, G, etc. The plan
is reproduced on p. 8 of J. A. Venn’s Foundations of Agricultural Economics .
For evidence of subdivision, see also below, p. 50.

SUBDIVISION OF THE FIELDS

47

peasants, or the neglect incident on a holding being vacant for a
time, caused much trouble. Weeds neglected, and ground left to
go to waste, encouraged the broadcast dissemination of harmful.
seeds, and the growth of unwanted vegetation.

Even to get onto the fields was not always easy. Unless a
watchful eye were kept, a path or headway gradually got ploughed
in, or some enclosure was made which separated the field from
the village, save by a roundabout route. Thus we find a chaplain
covenanting to give a right of droveway for ploughs, carts and
beasts over his pasture to the land of Sparkeford. 1 Without such
permission there was nothing for it but to trample over the
holdings of others, as was complained of, for instance, at Hales¬
owen, and the lord was appealed to for protection. In this, no
doubt, the men of Halesowen were within their rights, but what
of their unfortunate fellow whose holding seems to have been
enisled amid those of his neighbours, and to which he had no way
of entry save by walking across their holdings ? 2 Then, again, as
we are told, “ much vagueness often resulted from the custom of
scattered possessions: a tenant sometimes found he had, by mis¬
take, sown the strip of a neighbour, or had lost one of his own
strips ”. 3 We might think this impossible but for two facts. First,
the immense number of subdivisions which took place, especially
in the fourteenth century, and secondly, the definite evidence we
have of the difficulty which men found in knowing exactly where
their own strip ended and that of a neighbour began. Often
there was nothing but an imaginary line between them, or at
best a line of hazel twigs such as we still see in Alpine pastures,
dividing one man’s share from another’s. In such conditions
strips lost or gained in size (not always deliberately), or even
disappeared altogether. The surveyors of the Dean and Chapter
of St Paul’s were quite unable in 1222 to trace a holding of
three acres held by one of the tenants according to an earlier
survey and they had to make a new entry: “ tres acrae... inveniri
non possunt”. 4

We cannot say, any more than could the men of 1222, what
happened to the three acres, but we can certainly say that one of

1 Ancient Deeds, in, 13.

* Hales Rolls , 468. Cf. Wakefield Rolls , in, 148, where a man expressly
stipulates for “right of ingress and regress for his manure and com”,

a F.C.H. Berks , n, 170. * D.S.P. 11.

THE MANOR

48

the greatest difficulties of the common-field system was the
problem of how to cope with one’s neighbours who sat cheek by
.jowl on every side. Men had to take their chance: a neighbour
might be a careless worker who allowed weeds to flourish un¬
checked, or a helpful and friendly partner with whom one could
share the common labours. But the real difficulty arose much
more from the man who could not keep to his own, but who, as
we have seen in Piers Plowman, would “pinch” on his neigh¬
bour’s holding in some way or another. Sometimes he would
move the stones marking off one strip from another and thus
gain a few feet more of land for himself, 1 or he would plough up a
balk between himself and another man. 2 When the time came
for gathering in the crops he would falsely reap some of his
neighbour’s oats, and pitch into his cart a few sheaves from a
convenient stook. 3 In short, such was the system (or lack of
system) that it was hard for anyone to know exactly what was
his own; and, even if he knew this quite well, it was harder still
to be constantly on the watch to protect it against other men’s
carelessness or worse.

Offences of this nature were common enough to be mentioned
by the medieval moralists. Take, for example, the story from
Caesarius of Heisterbach, translated in the fifteenth-century
English Alphabet of Tales, which related how a man on his
deathbed was terrified by visions of a great burning stone coming
towards his mouth to scorch him. The priest was called, and
told him to think whether he had harmed anyone with such a
stone. And he thought awhile and then said, “Ah, sir! I have
now a good mind of how I removed this stone in the field to the
intent that I would enlarge my own ground and lessen other
men’s ground ”, etc. 4

Difficulties such as these were, of course, well enough known
to the peasants, and they did what they could to alleviate them,
either as we have seen by private arrangement, or by appeal to
their lord for protection, or else by common agreement. Common

1 E.g. Durham Halmote Rolls, 26, 27, 142, 158.

4 Select Pleas in Manorial Courts (Selden Soc.), 93, and see also Ramsey
Cart. l, 344, where a peasant holding two virgates has, inter alia, got possession
of thirteen strips formerly belonging to four other peasants.

* E.g. Hales Rolls, 305-6.

* Alphabet of Tales (E.E.T.S.), 31.

VILLAGE BY-LAWS

49

agreement often meant no more than the sanction given by
old-established custom. Often a path ran from one point to
another because it had always done so, or the occupant of one.
holding knew that for as long as the oldest memory could look
back that particular holding could not be ploughed till every one
else had finished, and passed with their ploughs and teams across
his particular strip for the last time. Common sense and give
and take were at the back of such arrangements, which led in the
course of time to the more formal common agreements which
were enacted by the peasants in concert, and enrolled at the
lord’s court so as to give them permanent and added prestige.
Mr W. O. Ault has investigated these “village by-laws”, one of
which may serve as an example: “No-one”, says the Halton
(Bucks) by-law of 1329, “shall have egress from his close over
another man’s land; and if his egress be over his own land he
shall save his neighbour harmless” (i.e. he shall do no harm to
his neighbour’s property). Or again, in the same list: “No one
shall make paths to his neighbour’s damage by walking or driving
[his beasts] or by carrying grain, be it by night or by other
time.” 1 Offenders against these by-laws were brought before the
Manor Court and fined. 2 Nevertheless, Mr Ault agrees that the
more usual practice of the peasants was to rely on ancient custom,
and that by-laws and the use of the manorial machinery are a late
and comparatively rare occurrence. 3

The most damning evidence of the inefficiency of the common-
field method of agriculture comes from modem observers, for
their accounts are of conditions still obtaining, despite much that
has been done for the improvement of crops since the fourteenth
century. Mr G. H. Fowler writes, “I once saw an open field at
harvest-time: on the whole the foulest land under a crop which
I ever saw”, 4 and the accounts given by English investigators of
the conditions of common-field farming in parts of Germany, in
1870, disclose a frightful state of affairs. 5

Such a system was so patently difficult to work that every here
and there we find men sufficiently wideawake to attempt reform,
and this clearly could most easily—and most effectively—be

1 E.H.R. xlv, axaff. 2 Ibid . 220-1.

3 Cf. Vinogradoff, Growth of the Manor , 184.

4 Catalogue of Maps {Bedford County MSS.), ed. G. H. Fowler, 7 n. 2.

6 See, for example, Land Tenure Reports, 306, 386, 436, etc.

BL

4

THE MANOR

50

brought about by the consolidation of holdings. If a man could
reduce his strips from sixty to thirty he had obviously saved
Jiimself considerable time and labour in getting from one place
to another. This is what Maurice II, Lord Berkeley, attempted
to bring about by exchanging strips whenever he could so as to
consolidate his holdings, and to get them all closer to his manor
houses. His biographer writes, “also other husbandry was
laboured by this prudent lord, whereby he drew much profit to
his tenants and increase of rents, etc., to himself, which was by
making and procuring to be made exchange of lands mutually
with one another, thereby casting convenient parcels together ”A
But we cannot fail to note that the whole tenour of this passage is
to emphasise the unusual nature of Lord Berkeley’s prudence;
and indeed, far from consolidation of holdings becoming at all
common, we have evidence to show that the contrary was often
true, at least in the east of England, and that in the course of
time, division and subdivision took place to an amazing extent.
For instance, an inquisition of Edward I’s time shows that there
were no less than 35 joint tenures among the villani of Ashfield
Magna, consisting of groups of from two to seven holders. 1 2
This was, no doubt, the result of division among the peasant’s
children and relatives that went on continuously, and the results
of such a process on one manor have been worked out in great
detail by Mr William Hudson, who showed that on the Norfolk
manor of Martham the 08 tenants of Domesday time had in¬
creased by 1291 to 107—a not unnatural growth—but, quite
unexpectedly, subdivision had progressed so enormously that
the land formerly held by the 68 had been split up into no less
than 935 holdings in some 2000 separate strips. A further
extremely interesting piece of detective work on his part has en¬
abled him to show how one six-acre block—once two tofts—
had been split up among ten tenants, so that several of them had
only a few perches which they could call their own, and there
could have been “but one way of distribution. The total number
of sheaves of (say) barley would be divided proportionally
according to the size of each tenant’s holding and the due number

1 Smyth, Lives of the Berkeleys , 1, 141, 160. Cf. Ramsey Cart . 1. 344;

Levett, op. ext. 52. ’

2 Powell, Suffolk Hundred in 1283, 76.

ASSARTS

5i

handed to him or her”. 1 However doubtful we may feel of the
practice of communal agricultural operations, such minute
holdings as these force us to imagine some such method. Often *
the sharers were linked by marriage or other ties, so that the
difficulties were minimised, but the division of labour and of
proceeds inevitably led to friction and family feuds.

Besides his strips in the common fields the peasant had other
land. About his house he usually had a small “close” (i.e. an
enclosure) in which he grew such vegetables and fruits as were
possible at that time. We shall see more of this in later chapters,
and need do no more than to record it here. But, besides this
close, many peasants had still other plots of ground they culti¬
vated as a private matter. These were usually on the outskirts of
the manor and were originally rough uncultivated waste, or land
often bordering on the forest edge. A small yearly rent gave
permission to break in a patch of some few acres of such virgin
soil, and many peasants eked out their scanty livelihood by such
a holding, technically called an “ assart”. For a family burdened
with more children than their shares in the common fields would
warrant such assart land was a godsend. Here they could utilise
their spare labour, and produce something to help fill the many
hungry mouths at home. Furthermore, the land was cultivated in
their own way. On the common fields, of necessity, the whole
community acted in common. The animals which had pastured
on the stubble throughout the winter were driven away upon a
certain day, which was agreed upon by the peasants, or deter¬
mined by immemorial custom. 2 Then there followed the plough¬
ing, and the sowing of the crop for the year, and in all this there
was but little room for any individual choice. The peasant was
chained down to a routine that was, seemingly, unbreakable. On
his assarted land, however, he was his own master, and could
grow how and what he liked. Against this advantage we must
set certain drawbacks: his “ assart ” was frequently at the edge of
the manor, and was land not yet broken into cultivation, so that
it required constant hard work to reclaim it from the forest or
heath that was ever in wait to snatch it back again. Nor did

1 Hist. Teachers* Misc. 1, 165 ff.; Norf. Arch . xx, 179 ff. See also many
examples of subdivision in Univ. Lib. Camb. MSS. Kk. v. 29.

2 See Durham Halmote Rolls , 41.

4'2

S z THE MANOR

the possession of an “assart” carry with it any communal
privileges such as went with, the strips in the common fields* It
.did not give a man the right to put any extra beasts on the
common, nor was the yearly rent relaxed on it when its holder
served as reeve and all his other manorial services and dues were
relaxed or diminished. His assart was an extra, and had to bear
its own burdens. 1

We cannot expect to know much in detail about the piecemeal
parcelling out of small portions of the waste for assarts. 2 Some¬
times they were granted by the lord for a fixed rent; sometimes
the land was just seized by the peasant and cultivated, and when
he was found out he accepted the fine imposed on him as an
additional charge for his new holding. 3 However it was done,
assarting went on continuously: we read of 44 old assarts” and
“ new assarts ”, and every cartulary reminds us of their existence. 4
But we have nothing to tell us what persuaded lords of manors to
allow of their cultivation. We may perhaps guess with some de¬
gree of certainty that assarting within limits was acceptable to
the lord: it provided him with a yearly rent, and it broke up
virgin soil that hitherto had been unremunerative. He naturally
objected if land was taken without his knowledge and consent,
but otherwise must often have found it a solution for those of his
tenants whose families had grown too numerous for their original
holding. 5 ^

Although, as we have seen, our information is mainly frag¬
mentary, yet here and there a more connected account of what
was happening is available, and may serve as an example of how
assarts were being carved out of the waste of innumerable
English manors. Let us take as an example what was happening
in the great Forest of the Peak of Derbyshire. We must re¬
member that the technical medieval term “forest” was not
confined to a densely wooded domain, but included much open
waste country suitable for agriculture. Throughout the centuries

1 V.C.H. Berks , n, 183. The author of this article draws attention to the
comparative lowness of assart rents. This we may confirm by a study of
Eynsham Cart. II, xxxiii-xxxv. See also Villainage , 333.

8 See Growth of Manor , 170-73.

8 See, for example, Wakefield Rolls, 1, 149; 11, 53; in, 147, 152, 157.

4 D.S.P. 8; Ramsey Cart . I, 342; II, 90, 296, 297; Wore. Priory Reg.
12 a; Early Yorks Charters , passim , etc.

6 See p. 66.

ASSARTING

S3

after the Conquest, the dwellers on the fringes of the great area
preserved for the King in Derbyshire were nibbling away acres
here and there, and bringing them into cultivation. Since this’
was mainly without permission, whenever the Court of the Forest
was held such offences had to be presented, and thus it is that
we find out what was going on. The evidence fills many pages
when extracted from the Rolls, and only a few examples can be
given here. In one area (Hayfield) during the first twenty-six
years of Henry Ill’s reign some 140 acres in various small
parcels had been taken into cultivation, while at Combes in the
first eleven years 160 acres had been occupied by some twenty
men. Or again, during a brief period the abbots of Basingwork,
who had rights in the forest, had assarted no less than 291 acres
in various places. 1 All these encroachments on the King’s rights
were presented to his officials, and we may well wonder what
was happening on the manors of lesser lords when this could
happen on the King’s demesnes, and with the terrors of the
Forest Law hanging over the wrongdoers.

Another form of forest encroachment was called “purpres-
ture ”, a term difficult to define because it was somewhat dif¬
ferently applied to different forests. More usually, as was the
case at this eyre (1251), it signified the building of a house or
homestead within the forest bounds. Since the last pleas of 1216
one hundred and thirty-one persons had built new houses with¬
out warrant, and were therefore in mercy, and liable to fines. In
almost a like number of cases, namely one hundred and twenty-
seven, new houses had been raised in the King’s demesnes with
the license of the bailiff. 2

If we turn from a forest area to a less highly protected part of
the country we see much the same was happening there. The
detailed researches of Mr H. J. Hewitt on medieval Cheshire
have shown how much was being done there in the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries. He writes:

An increasing population had already necessitated some enlarge¬
ment of the bounds of cultivation, and throughout the period under
consideration the work of reclamation was being gradually pushed
forward. The work proceeded slowly and laboriously, and some of it

x J. P. Yeatman, Feudal History of Derbyshire, hi, 237ff.

a V.C.H. Derby, 11, 403. For detailed evidence, see Yeatman, op. cit .

THE MANOR

54

would, of course, escape mention in any document. Yet the “ Forest
Rolls and Rentals ”of the period afford abundant evidence of assarting,
-new ploughing and enclosing in many parts of the county and especially
in Wirral. 1

Mr Hewitt goes on to show with a great deal of detail “ how in
all parts of the county the work of enlarging the cultivated area
was making gradual progress ”. Again, the more recent work of
Mr T. A. M. Bishop shows with beautiful clarity how parts of
Yorkshire were brought into cultivation, and turned from waste
into useful and integral parts of the near-by villages. 2

While on the King’s forest and in some places progress was
comparatively slow, since it proceeded in defiance of the lord’s
rights, on many manors the lord was willing to allow assarting,
and something like a considered scheme of development was
possible. Miss Neilson, in her introduction to the Bihington
Cartulary, 3 has shown this in detail for the manors of the Arch¬
bishop of Canterbury and other ecclesiastical bodies which lay in
Romney Marsh. Sometimes the tenant had to win back and
protect the land he was assarting from the sea; sometimes the
lord had already built a sea-wall, in which case heavier rents or
services were demanded of the incoming tenant. But in either
case there seems to have been a definite policy: “land grants
permitting the inning [assarting] of land were made in gavelkind;
the holds were often of uniform size in a given marsh, and were
burdened with the defence of walls and waterways, according to
the law and custom of the marsh. The tenements so gained were
subject sometimes to strict regulations with regard to improve¬
ment, the tenant being required to build on them, unless he
already had a house in the vill to which the marsh belonged.” 4
Further research may show that other lords had similar schemes
for developing their lands. We constantly hear, for example, of
permission being given by the King to lords to include con¬
siderable areas within their domains. These, however, were not
necessarily part of the manor since they formed part of the great
empty wastes that lay between one village and another, but
before we turn to them we must look nearer home at the peasant’s
other lands—the meadows and commons.

1 Mediaeval Cheshire , io.

a E.H.R. xl xx, 386, and the Ecm . Hist Rev. vi, 10,

* Op. cit . passim . * Op. cit. 53 ff.

THE MEADOWS

55

First, the meadows. These lay near the village, and generally
adjacent to the great open fields, but unlike them were fenced
about or protected by a ditch. The Lammas lands, as they are
often called, were a vital part of the village economy, and were
carefully enclosed soon after Christmas until the crop had been
taken off them in the summer . 1 They were under the special pro¬
tection of the hayward, whose job it was to see the fences were
not broken down, or that the villagers’ cattle did not get into the
growing grass, to impound straying animals and to present their
owners as offenders at the Manor Court . 2 The meadows, like the
other fields, were held in common, and each man had his por¬
tion allocated to him, either by a system of rotation or by the
drawing of lots. Unfortunately, no early account of this custom
appears to have survived, although we constantly read of the
‘Tot-meadows”, and hear of the sale of lands “lying at Middel
dole as the lot geuyth ,, , and so on . 3 The custom itself, however,
survived to within living memory, and we have a number of
detailed accounts of the way in which the meadows were divided.
In most cases it was by lot: either small pieces of stick were
drawn out of a pocket, as in Sussex , 4 or a number of apples with
distinctive marks cut on them were distributed from a hat by a
boy, as in Somerset , 5 or pieces of wood were cut from an arrow
and marked to correspond with the landmarks in the field, as in
Northamptonshire . 6 *

Imagine that the crop has been gathered. At once the meadows
become common land once again. Both here and in the arable
this principle applied, and was of the greatest importance. Of
course the occupier alone had any right to the crop (whether of
grain or of hay), but once that had been lifted the fields reverted
to the whole community. This was a wellnigh inevitable con¬
sequence of the whole common-field arrangements, for any other
system would have been unworkable. On the one hand let us

1 Generally this period was from Candlemas (2 Feb.) until Lammas
(1 Aug.), but local custom varied these dates.

2 The term hayward comes from the Middle English, “haye=a hedge”.
For details concerning the hayward and the court, see p. 178.

8 See, for example, Godstow Cart . (E.E.T.S.), 220, 446, 447.

4 Sussex Arch. Soc. Coll, rv, 307.

5 Collinson, History of the Antiquities of Somerset , in, 586.

6 Bridges, History of Norihants t 1, 219. See also Gomme, The Village
Community, 268-71; Oxford Hist. Soc. XXIV, 308-11.

THE MANOR

56

suppose each man had enclosed his own strip of arable, so that
when the time came he could have put his own cattle to graze on
its stubble, and could have excluded those of other men. At once
great difficulties would have arisen: he could not have got his
plough or carts on to his own strips because of his fences and
those of others, nor could he have had room to turn his plough
or harrow without wasting much of his land. On the other hand,
in a field without any enclosures, to have kept one’s own cattle
strictly to one narrow strip, and to have prevented them from
straying would have been almost beyond a man’s power, and at
best would have led to all kinds of disputes. 4 4 Right of com¬
mon”, therefore, as it was called, was one of the most valued of
the peasant’s rights, and allowed him to make use, not only of the
uncultivated pastures which were specially assigned to that use—
the “ commons ” of popular speech—and of the “ wastes ” which
stretched away on every side, but also of the open arable fields
and of the meadows as soon as they were cleared.

The value of the arable and the meadows to the peasant once
they were thrown open was considerable. We are apt to think of
the manorial flocks and herds as roaming only on the “ com¬
mons ” and the waste, but this is to disregard those lands more
centrally placed in the village, and open, at the least, for several
months of the year to all comers. The meadows, as we have seen,
were available throughout the autumn and part of the winter,
and must have afforded much welcome feeding for men’s cattle.
The arable also was not neglected. If the two-field system was in
vogue there was always a considerable part of the arable available
for the herds, and even under the three-field system a good deal
of land was open for such purposes. And, although technically
it was “empty”, there was much feeding to be obtained, first
from the stubble and afterwards from such small plants and
weeds as rapidly spring up on any uncultivated plot of land. The
“ empty ” lands were a considerable asset to the peasant through¬
out the year, for always some part of the open fields was at his
disposal. In general, every one who had the right turned their
beasts loose, with those of their neighbours, to crop what they
could both here and in the meadows.

Closely connected with the manorial economy were the com¬
mons and open spaces—“the wastes” as they were frequently

THE COMMONS

57

termed—of the vill. No completely satisfactory interpretation of
their early history has yet been formulated; but, whatever may be
the tangled legal theory that lies behind them, we may begin by»
noting that “right of common” was vital to the villager. He
relied on pasture to keep his plough beasts in good condition,
and therefore “common of pasture” was what he most tena¬
ciously clung to. This was not an unlimited right, but was con¬
trolled by the number of acres he held in the common fields;
and further, only those who had cattle levant e couchant en le
maner could claim even this limited use. And since the whole
object of common was to support and sustain the manorial agri¬
cultural routine only those animals thus directly engaged were
“commonable”, viz. horses and oxen for the plough, and sheep
and cows for manuring. Other common rights, apparently of
later date, treated by some writers as “common appurtenant”,
allowed the villager to pasture his goats, swine and geese on the
waste, and were extended so as to include those who had no
holding in the common fields, but had only a close or an assart
which they held of the lord.

The gradual assarting of land, as we have seen, meant the
enclosure of pieces of the waste for the individual use of some
one person, and this obviously meant that there was that much
land less for the common use of the vill. Now as long as the
waste was large, and not overcharged by the number of cattle
put on it, no difficulties or hardship arose. But as soon as the
licences to assart became too numerous, then the tenants found
themselves deprived of “ sufficient pasture ”, and the lords’ actions
had to be restricted. The Statute of Merton (1235) laid it down
that the lord was to leave “sufficient pasture” for his free
tenants according to their holdings. But this was not satisfactory:
it made no attempt to define what was “sufficient pasture”; it
did not touch the question of rights of neighbours to inter¬
common, and it only legislated for free men, and therefore left
the main body of villagers unprotected. A second statute
(Westminster II, 1285) rectified this a little: it extended the
privilege of “sufficient pasture ” to neighbours who had hitherto
inter-commoned, but did nothing else. There has been much
controversy as to what were the exact implications of these two
statutes, but “the better opinion of our books” suggests that

THE MANOR

58

once they were passed, the lord could enclose his common lands
without any assent of the free tenants being necessary. This still
•left him “the custom of the manor” to deal with, and this was
generally a powerful force. 1 The “ common assent ” of the whole
vill determined the dates at which various parts of the common
should be open, or the number of cattle which each member of
the manor might pasture thereon. Any infringement of these
arrangements caused instant trouble and litigation. Neverthe¬
less, after these two statutes came into force, the lords gradually
exercised more and more pressure, and the peasants were slowly
deprived of their sometime powers and privileges.

Where the commons merged into the wastes would be difficult
to say. Some manors had only a limited amount of common
strictly reserved for its own members, but in many parts of the
country there were large tracts of waste lying between one vill
and another. They were no-man’s-land, and frequently so vast
in extent that no very clear delimitation of ownership had ever
been made. 2 The vills surrounding them inter-commoned there¬
on at will. Such, for example, was the waste in the district of
Whalley, where some 36,000 acres were used as pasture and
woodland by various vills, and only 3500 acres were cultivated
as arable. 3 The waste of the New Forest was calculated at about
60,000 acres and fringed upon some twenty-one vills; that of
Ashdown contained neady 14,000 acres, and being Crown land
formed part of no manor. Epping Forest contained about
6000 acres and extended into seventeen manors, and so the
list might be continued. 4

These vast stretches of waste were utilised by all those vills
which were near enough to do so and their rights run back into
time immemorial. These vills inter-commoned in the waste in
groups roughly determined by their geographical position. To
take an example: Miss Neilson, in her introduction to A Terrier
of Fleet , has analysed with great care the arrangements made in

1 See, for example, A Temer of Fleet (ed. N. Neilson), lxxviii, and also
below, p. 100, for a discussion of the force of custom.

2 See, for example, Bract on’s Note Book , Case 1194, where the jury say a
certain piece of waste “ ampla est et magna, et nesciunt aliquas divisas
quantum pertinet ad unam villam quantum ad aliam”,

8 Whitaker, Whalley , 1, 233.

4 Dartmoor Preservation Association, 1, xxviii.

THE WASTES

59

the Fens for inter-commoning, and has shown clearly how far
back in time these arrangements had existed. Any attempt to
partition the wastes, on the theory that the waste was the lord’s,*
led to trouble, and to a claim that the vill had inter-commoned
thereon from time out of mind, with the other vills of the group,
and that the waste was held pro indiviso by them. 1

One important fact should be emphasised. So far we have
been mainly thinking of the wastes as an auxiliary means of
helping to maintain their stock, but there is also the possibility
that they were far more than that. It may well be that future
detailed investigation will show that a considerable number of
peasants were mainly dependent on these wastes for their means
of livelihood. At Rossendale, in Lancashire, for example, we are
told that “Facilities of common in this district were not so
much the complement of a holding, as an extension of the chief
means the tenement provided of earning a livelihood”. 2 In
neighbourhoods such as this, where the soil and climate
were unfavourable to arable farming, a more pastoral type of
farming was a necessity. Not only this: every manor had a
number of inhabitants who had but little share in the common
fields (and hence in the commons), and who were therefore
forced to pasture their beasts in the adjoining wastes. 3

The waste was much more than extra or even a main pasturage.
To it the peasant looked for a hundred other things essential to
his daily life. To begin with, it provided him with wood—a
primary requisite. His house, his farm implements, and his
household utensils were all mainly made of wood. He relied on it
almost entirely for fuel. Hence his rights of hous-bote, and haye-
bote and of fire-bote were of great importance to him. These
varied in details from manor to manor, but commonly the
peasant was allowed to take what wood he could get “by hook
or by crook ”—that is to say, such timber as he could knock off,
or pull down from standing trees. Then again, he was often
allowed to cut so many trees a year for repairs to his house, and
implements and hedges, or to take undergrowth, or loppings, or

1 Terrier of Fleets p. 1 .

2 G. H. Tupling, Econ. Hist . Rossendale , 98.

8 For a full discussion of the position and importance of such people, see
p. 65.

6o

THE MANOR

any dead wood lying about on the ground. 1 In areas where the
waste was large and under little control, he obviously had even
• greater opportunities to take what he would.

Many other things were available: for example, turves were
cut in immense numbers. Some of these were used for roofing
sheds or for making up balks; some were dried and used for
fuel. Clay was dug for use in mill dams or for dikes; sand and
gravel were excavated for building purposes. Bracken was cut
and used for litter; the sedges of the fens and ponds were much
sought after for thatching. Wild fruits and berries were gathered
for the kitchen, and on every side the peasants found something
of value which would help them in their struggle to live.

This, then, was the peasant’s world. Naturally conditions
varied throughout England. Some villagers had but little
“waste” at their disposal, others had unlimited areas: in some
parts the meadows were rich and provided ample crops, in others
they yielded but poorly, and so on. The reader must constantly
bear this in mind: it is one of the inevitable drawbacks of a
general picture that it fails to showindividual details and interest¬
ing variations. We must be on our guard against imagining too
great a uniformity: on the other hand we need not let this reduce
us to a pessimistic belief that no general account of the medieval
manor and its occupants is possible. It is possible if only we will
bear these conditioning factors clearly in mind.

1 See, for example, Yorks Inquis . i, 28 (Pickering Forest, 1251); Ramsey
CarU I, 307 (1251); Cust. Rents , 83.

The Manorial Population

CHAPTER III

THE MANORIAL POPULATION

N ow that we have considered the very complicated web
within which the medieval peasant lived and moved and
had his being we may turn to the man himself. And first,
in thinking of the manorial population, we must be careful to
differentiate between the many grades that even this humble
society comprised. We are apt to rest content with the lawyer’s
easy division of free and serf; but, while this is an obvious
difference which needs no labouring here, it is necessary to insist
again that, if we pay overmuch attention to such a classification, we
shall be ignoring equally important considerations of an economic
rather than of a juridical nature. We must think of the manorial
population as a body of people whose material circumstances
were of the most varied nature. A man might well be a free man
and yet possess only a mere two or three acres, and his only
hope of keeping body and soul together was to find employ¬
ment—probably on the holding of one of these despised villeins
who had more land than he could work without help. True he
could cease to work whenever it pleased him, -with the knowledge
that no one could compel him to return—until hunger drove
him forth once again to seek his bread. But, in fact, it is clear
that such men were no more free then than is the mill operative
or the typist now: to throw down his tools may be the privilege
of a free man, but it is one he but sparingly uses if he is prudent.

Even if we omit any question of free or serf, a glance at any
cartulary shows us that there were many subdivisions, even among
the servile population. First, we have the aristocracy, as it were,
of the peasantry: men holding 30 or sometimes 60 acres in the
common fields, followed by others holding only half this “full
land” of 30 acres. Others again have to be content with
“fardels” or “furlongs” of 10 or 15 acres, and below them come
the cottars, and crofters, and “ pytel-holders ” who eke out an
existence as best they can, for their land is only an acre or two,
or sometimes only the bare croft or garden about their little"

64 THE MANORIAL POPULATION

house. 1 It is obvious that the 30-acre holder who owes his lord
manifold rents and services is in a different category from the
# holder of some miserable pytel, who perhaps renders a couple of
hens once a year, or does a day’s work at harvest as the sole pay¬
ment required of him for his holding. Yet, in the Manor Court,
as in the King’s Court, both are equal, and in certain circum¬
stances, both are null: for both have the stain of serfdom upon
them, and may be called upon by their lord “to answer for their
villeinage as a villein ought ”,

The essential point to emphasise, however, is that so far as
the manor is concerned there was considerable differentiation
among the peasantry, and it is wrong to underestimate this. The
lord certainly did not. In his Manor Court he constantly em¬
panelled certain men to act as a jury, and we find that these
generally included the large holders of the village. Again, it is
the large holders who have to find a plough of their own to work
on the lord’s demesnes at certain seasons of the year: lesser
holders are allowed to come with a team made up by two, three
or more of them putting their resources together. Then again,
at harvest, the greater tenants are forced to act as overseers to the
rest of their fellows, and ride or walk about with white wands of
office in their hands. 2 They provide carts and horses for carrying
services, and generally are used by the lord in proportion to their
holding and equipment. So with lesser men, according to their
capacities, until we reach a level at which the agricultural tools
the man has at his disposal are confined to spade, hoe, mallet and
the like. This indeed is a dividing line in the village, for now we
are dealing with the “ poor labourers who live by their hands ”, 3

1 There seems to be little need to linger over the differences between
cottars, crofters and other lesser holders. They were all of the same class:
perhaps the cottars held rather larger pieces of land, and therefore were called
on to render greater services. The medieval clerks did not discriminate very
clearly. In the Ramsey Cart. (1, 397) some men are described as holding
crofts, but a few lines later they are called cottars. Cf. I, 489 (“ viginti
quatuor cottarii, quorum quidam tenent croftas, quidam curtilagia”, etc.);
Vinogradoff, Villainage , 148: “Theconstant denomination for those who have
no part in the common arable fields, but who only hold crofts, or small plots
with their homesteads, is cotters”; and cf. p. 256. A special note, perhaps,
should be made of the Lundenarii , men who are bound to work for the lord on
one day a week (generally Monday) throughout the whole year.

2 Mon. Exon . 3526; Ramsey Cart. I, 309, 311; n, 47; Eynsham Cart. II, 8
and 29, etc.

8 Inguts . Nonarum , 130.

THE SMALL HOLDERS

65

and whose small holdings are quite insufficient to keep them
however intensively they are cultivated. These men are the
“undermanni ”, the “ crofters” and the like, and their history is
as important as it is difficult to unravel.

Many years ago Vinogradoff drew attention to “the remark¬
able history of the small tenants”, and added that this had
“hardly been appreciated rightly by modern scholars”,
years that have intervened since this was written have left the
position but little changed. Mr Lipson in his Economic History
of England has devoted some attention to the problem, but little
else seems to have been done, although some writers in t he
Victoria County Histories have shown themselves aware of the
importance of the small tenant in the manorial economy. Such
neglect is the more surprising, for it seems clear that we shall
not understand the daily life of the medieval village with any
clarity all the while we ignore this section of its population.
Naturally the number and importance of these small tenants
varied from manor to manor, but everywhere they were to be
found working as an essential part of the manorial organisation.

Modern scholars, however, may plead in justification that
these men were equally neglected by their contemporaries. The
clerks, who drew up the medieval extents and customals, spent
but little time on such small fry. They held but small parcels of
land—five acres seem to have been a cQmmon maximum, and
often a beggarly two or three acres, or even a toft, is all the stake
they have in a manor. 1 Hence the payments and services they
were called upon to render were commensurately small, and the
customals rapidly recite their meagre commitments in a few
words after they have dealt with the greater tenants. All this is
clear enough: small tenants, small services—but what is not so
clear (because it was no business of the lord’s clerks to make it
so) is how these men managed to exist. Their holdings, in them¬
selves, were insufficient to support them—even five acres, it i s
certain, could not do so—and they had to find other means of
support. Hence their importance: they provided that pool of
free or semi-free labour which was constantly available to all
who could afford to pay for it by one means or another. The

1 Econ. Hist . Rev. vol. v, No. 2, p. 37 n. 1, gives an excellent analysis of the
average size of villein holdings in Cambridgeshire Manors.

BL

5

66 THE MANORIAL POPULATION

virgater with no children, the widow left with a young family,
the holder of land burdened with difficult or onerous services—
all these, as well as the lord himself, whose demesne lands cried
out for daily, as also for seasonal labour, were ready enough to
make use of the small tenant; and without his presence life on the
medieval manor would have been very much more difficult. 1

These smaller tenants steadily grew in number as lords allowed
more and more new land to be assarted, or as new-comers to the
manor were given an odd corner here for a small money rent, or a
pytel there in exchange for a few minor services. 2 Little by little
we may imagine the growth of a body of men standing almost
apart from the rigid compulsions of communal ploughings and
other works, 3 as well as the presence in the countryside of those
who had the fortune to live on manors where labour services
were small or non-existent. 4 Their lack of shares in the common
fields, which was part of their lot, also left them freer than
many of their fellows, and this freedom they used in many ways.
Some of them found a livelihood by supplying needs which their
neighbours had but little time to fulfil for themselves: they be¬
came the village carpenters, or smiths, or weavers, or miller’s
assistants, and so on. For example, on the Bishop of Chichester’s
manor of Amberley, in Sussex, as well as the great tenants, who
held virgates and the like, we find Benet Smith (Faber) who holds
only “four acres belonging to the smithy ”, and in return for this
his duties and obligations are as follows: “He shall mend with
the lord’s iron all the iron-gear belonging to two ploughs, but
do nothing new. He shall shoe two horses, and the sergeant’s
horses with the lord’s iron, and receive nothing... .He shall
grind all the scythes used in the lord’s meadows, and all the
shears while they shear the lord’s sheep ”, etc. 5

Another small tenant, Alexander Carpenter, held only a house
and half an acre, and for this he paid but sixpence a year. His
living was evidently made by means of his craft, for every village

1 Lipson, op. cit. 44, 45; Medieval East Anglia , 121 n. 3; V.C.H. Berks , II,

182; Herts , iv, 184, 190; Page, op. cit. 39.

3 See, for example, V.C.H. Durham , 11, 209; Hatfield’s Survey (Surtees
Soc.), 32.

3 Neilson, Ramsey , 276:.; Page, op. cit. 41.

4 Econ. Hist. Rev. vol. v, No. 2, passim .

* Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 48; cf. 37, 75, 82, 92.

VILLAGE NAMES

67

found plenty of work for a skilled man who could repair and
build the ploughs, carts, harrows and other agricultural imple¬
ments, as well as oversee, and carry out the more difficult pieces •
of joinery needed for the medieval house. Contemporary account-
rolls almost universally contain entries of payments made to both
the smith and the carpenter for work of this kind. 1 Similarly,
on these Sussex manors, we find many other small holders who
were of some consequence to the easy working of the village. We
have Robert of the Mill, holding three acres about the mill as
well as one acre he has assarted, for which he makes an annual
cash payment, but also has to attend the harvest boon work as
one of the officials. 2 Such names among these smaller men as
Robert Mason ( cementarius ), Adam Baker ( pistor ) or Geoffrey
Weaver (textor) are indicative of the way in which these men
found a living for themselves. 3

These detailed accounts of the conditions on one or two
manors are confirmed by a recent extensive examination of the
Hundred Rolls.

Names and nicknames of the villagers suggest that they did not all
live on the yield of the land (writes Professor Kosminsky). Crafts con¬
nected with the manufacture of textiles are indicated by such names as
Draper, Comber, Fuller, Napper, Cissor, Parmentarius, Tailur,
Tinclor, Textor, Textrix; with metal-work, by such names as Faber,
Ironmonger, le Ferrour; with leatherwork, by such names as Tannur,
Sulor, Corduanarius; with woodwork, building and carpentry, by
such names as Carpentaria, Couper, Cementarius, Masun, Pictor;
or with food-production, by names such as Comificus, Cocus,
Braciator, Baker, Pistor, Espicer_Rural pursuits other than agri¬

cultural are indicated by such names as Bercarius, Gardiner, Grazier,
Porker, Vaccarius, Piscator, Venator. Of course, not every Taylor
engaged in tailoring, and not every Cooper made vats. 4

Nevertheless these names are indicative of the occupations which

1 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 100; Neilson, Ramsey , 79.

2 Ibid, xxxi, 65; cf. 21, 38.

3 Ibid, xxxi, 38, 97; cf. Knoop and Jones, The Medieval Mason , 107, 108.
A great deal of evidence on these lines is available in any of the Cartularies or
Rentals. See, for example, Glastonbury Rentalia , 34 (R. Carpentaria holds
only two acres of assarted land); 93 (R. Taillur, J. Textor and W. Pistor all
have small holdings and few duties). Ramsey Cart . 1, 329 (Smith and
Carpenter); 351 (Carpenter); 391 (Cooperand Carpenter) etc.

4 Kosminsky, “The Hundred Rolls of 1279-80”, Boon. Hist. Rev. vol. in,
No. 1, p. 36. Or see for one occupation only the wide distribution of bakers
in Wore. Hist. Soc. Collectanea , 1912.

68 THE MANORIAL POPULATION

were an inseparable part of country life, and which constantly
absorbed a portion of the manorial surplus population.

Not only this: these men, as well as providing necessary services
for their fellows within the village, were also among those who
most easily got free from the manorial organisation. As we have
seen, they were burdened with but small duties, and it was com¬
paratively easy for them to get the lord to commute their work
for a money payment. 1 This left them almost free, and we should
be wrong not to consider the great if indirect effect this had in
stimulating their neighbours to approximate to their status. The
virgater with a multitude of claims upon him must frequently
have sighed for the comparative freedom of the little man, who
held only a few acres, it is true, but who could do what he wished
in his own time and in his own way. We must not press this too
far: the virgater frequently enough found his family could easily
divide up among them the duties their holding imposed, and
still leave plenty of time for their own strips and crofts; but,
nevertheless, this was a freedom attaching to many of these
small tenants that must have given some virgaters cause for
reflection.

Their comparative freedom will be seen when it is realised
that, once they had done the limited amount of work their little
holding imposed upon them, they could turn their attention from
one master or occupation to another more easily than could the
greater tenants. They were able, therefore, to make experiments
in crop production, or to cultivate their small holdings in ways
impossible to the virgaters who were bound by age-long custom
and the necessity for co-operative work at frequent intervals.
Hence, we may with some justice think of this section of the
medieval villagers as being far more important in several ways
t than at first sight might appear to be the case.

We must also note how the gradual spread of a desire to com¬
mute works for money payments increased the need for such
men as these. The more the lord allowed his tenants to buy their
freedom from week or boon works, the more necessary it was that
he should be able to command a steady supply of labour for his
various needs. This he would have found it very much more diffi¬
cult to do unless there had already existed on his manor, or
1 See e.g. Neilson, Ramsey , 26, 28.

MANORIAL FLUX AND CHANGE 69

near by, a number of men whose comparative freedom from the
incessant cares of husbandry left them leisure to c 4 live by their
hands” in serving whosoever cared to employ them. 1

On these manors where money rents were predominant, and
services few or nil, much the same state of affairs prevailed. Small
holders could not exist on their own few acres; they were forced
to seek work wherever it could be found, and obviously it could
be found on the acres of larger holders. Free or serf, the land
had to be cultivated, and the labour came from the multitude of
small tenants and their sons who formed part of every manor.

One further point must be considered. We must always re¬
member that beneath the apparent fixed condition of affairs as
revealed in the extents and customals there was a constant state
of flux and change on the manor. The extent was concerned
almost solely with the holding: the individual units of father,
mother, children and other relatives which each holding might
be supporting were of comparatively minor importance from
this point of view. But, as we may easily imagine, a man who
had only a small part in the common fields and yet was burdened
with a large family was forced to do what he could to provide an
outlet for them. Hence we find him purchasing assarts, or taking
over extra cots and plots within the vill so as to accommodate his
numerous progeny. In short, a constant movement was going on
between the various sections of the manorial tenantry: some were
leaving their father’s home to start a life for themselves in some
empty house and toft, or were prepared to build one on the
assart clearing at the edge of the village. Others again were
turning to seek a living by labour connected with the normal
manorial arrangements: they engaged themselves as ploughmen,
or carters, or shepherds who served the lord all the year round in
return for a fixed wage, or they came to the aid of a fellow peasant
unable, or unwilling, to discharge the duties incumbent upon his
holding. The pressure of work at special seasons also called for a
body of workmen who could be recruited at harvest or other
times of stress, and who could aid the normal servants in a
multiplicity of ways which varied according to the special and
local needs of the many manors.

So far we have been stressing the differences between the
1 F.C.H. Berks , 11, 175, 182; Herts , iv, 184; Dorset, n, 233,

7 o THE MANORIAL POPULATION

greater and the lesser tenants. It remains to note wherein their
paths ran side by side. The lesser tenants, as we have seen, had
, little or nothing to do with the communal cultivation of the
common fields. Nor had they any but the most insignificant of
shares in the common meadows, and therefore they were not
called on for plough and other services on the lord’s demesne to
the same extent as were their fellows. But some return they had
to malre for their holdings, and this return usually took the form
of a day’s work from time to time at the lord’s will. Since they
were not liable to perform the major works they were usually
turned on to the many odd jobs always waiting to be done. They
spread dung, or hedged, or ditched; they drove pigs and cattle
to and from market; they helped to repair walls and thatches, to
make new bams and pigstyes; to toss, and rake and collect the
hay; to bundle and stook and load the sheaves on to the wagons;
to winnow and thresh in the barns; to clear out the manor
braidings before the coming of the lord; to gather reeds or rushes,
or to plant potherbs or beans—these and a thousand other
things were their usual lot.

If any one duty more than another attached to them it was the
housing and guarding of thieves and prisoners awaiting judg¬
ment. Sometimes they are ordered to house them in their own
homes for the time being as part of their duties, while at others
they are responsible for them in the village lock-up. 1 They have
to produce them for judgment and to take them to higher courts
when required. When we recall how difficult it was for the king’s
officers to keep men from breaking gaol, we may imagine the
troubles which beset a man charged with such a duty, with
nothing better than a fragile structure of lath and plaster to keep
his prisoner under arrest.

Another duty which commonly devolved on them was the
carrying of letters and writs. They are made responsible for
warning their fellows of the coming of the steward to hold a
court, or they carry writs within limited areas (generally within
the county). 2 They go from one manor to another carrying

1 Ramsey Cart. I, 484; Yorks Inquis. 1, 75; Wore. Priory Reg. 15a, 666;
Suff. Inst. Arch, in, 244; Econ.Docs. (Tawney) 61; Banstead, 54; V.C.H.
Surrey, 111, 39; Cal. Inquis. 11, No. 443.

2 Econ. Docs. (Tawney) 63; Black Book St Augustine, 37, 38; Sussex Rec.
SOC. XXXI, 48, 114, 117, 130 .

THE LIFE OF LABOUR 71

letters from the lord or his officials; and, indeed, so long as it was
something that could be conveniently super dorsum they were
commonly pressed into service. If the journey should be un-.
usually long they received a small payment, but otherwise it
merely counted as one of the duties they owed to the lord. 1

We see then that the manorial population was a complex social
group. The comparatively easy circumstances of the larger
holders have to be set against the struggles of the undermanni , and
every manor was a world of change, and rising and falling for¬
tunes—not at all the ordered static affair we read of in the ex¬
tents. And this state of things was common whatever else varied.
It is true that in different parts of the country certain conditions
varied a great deal. For example, the men on many Yorkshire
manors were principally occupied in driving and tending their
sheep, while their brethren on more southern manors were
mainly engaged with plough, harrow and reap-hook. The life of
the peasant on the Lincolnshire fens was very different in some
ways from that of his fellow on the edge of the great Wealden
forest. The prevailing occupation of any area—agricultural or
pastoral—naturally made a great deal of difference as to how a
man spent his day; but, nevertheless, for our purpose, it is
sufficient that there rested on all these men, in their degree, the
curse pronounced on Adam: “ Cursed is the ground for thy
sake; in toil shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life; thorns also
and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat of the
herb of the field; in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till
thou return unto the ground.”

It is with this in our minds that we may turn to study in some
detail the everyday life of the medieval peasant on whatever
manor he found himself, and in so doing we shall be deliberately
limiting ourselves to a certain extent, for we shall be forced to
ignore something of what was happening in many parts of
England where the manorial system had but partially and
sporadically obtained a hold. Recent investigations have con¬
siderably modified the views of Seebohm and Vinogradoff con¬
cerning the origin and development of the manor. They formed
their conclusions mainly from evidence taken from the centre of

1 Oust, Rents , 66; D.S.P . 27, 68; Ramsey Cart . 1, 302; Sussex Rec. Soc.
xxxi, 20, 27, 36, 74, 82.

THE MANORIAL POPULATION

72

England, and from ecclesiastical estates, but were forced to see
that the conditions of the north and west would not fit into their
rtheory. As a result they propounded the view that commutation
took place more easily and at an earlier date in these areas than
in the south. They also are mainly responsible for the theory that
the peasantry was considerably depressed in status after the
Conquest, and that many who were free became serfs. We are
no longer able to accept these views in their entirety, for the
researches of Professor Stenton, Mr Jolliffe and Mr Douglas
alone have made it clear that in large areas “ the typical manor ”
never became at all common. Professor Kosminsky writes: 1

Stenton’s researches have shown that in the Northern Danelaw
(East Yorkshire, Derbyshire, Nottinghamshire, Leicestershire, Lin¬
colnshire and Rutland) the typical manor, with serfdom and labour
dues, was never a predominating institution. Gray’s well-known
work, English Field Systems (1915), revealed the existence in medieval
England of a whole variety of local field types, and thereby forces us to
consider the possibility of local variations in the structure and
organisation of rural institutions as well....Jolliffe 5 s article further
subtracted from the area of the “typical” manor the extreme North
of England—Northumbria, which includes Lancashire, the Lothians
and the highlands of Yorkshire.

Then again there must be added the work done by Mr Douglas
in East Anglia, and in view of all this we are forced to realise the
truth of his contentiorf'that

the social history of this epoch must no longer concern itself with
“English Society in the Eleventh Century”, but rather with a
number of diverse social structures varying greatly from district to
district... .Research, therefore, is tending to become more localised
in its scope, and the interest and importance of this period is that
therein the Norman government is attempting to apply a uniform
feudal theory to the whole of England. This affected materially the
upper ranks of society throughout England, but, underneath, the
peasant substructure in each district long remained substantially
unchanged; and only slowly and imperfectly was it made to conform
to the new order. 2

Our knowledge, therefore, of conditions on the land between
the time of the Conquest and the early thirteenth century is still
very fragmentary, and it would be rash to venture any wide

x Econ . Hist . Rev. vol. v, No. 2, p. 28.

2 Feudal Documents , xviii, and cf. clxviii.

THE MANORIAL SYSTEM

73

generalisations, or to attempt to give any full-scale picture of
what was happening to the peasant during that time. From the
thirteenth century onwards, however, things are clearer. The
Norman attempt to impose a feudal organisation has spent its
force, and the manorial system is seen in its full flower. While
we may no longer believe that the whole of England was
manorialised almost completely—indeed we now know that
some parts were never manorialised at all— yet the most recent
studies, such as those of Professor Kosminsky, show that when
all allowances are made, the manorial system had a very firm hold
on large areas, especially in Central England. 1 It still remains
true, therefore, that hundreds of thousands of men in twelfth-
and thirteenth-century England were born to live and die in
villages which were under the control of this or that lord, and
that these men knew no other life than that conditioned by the
enclosing web of the feudal manor.

Yet, while our main concern will be to follow the lives and
fortunes of these manorial peasants, we shall in effect be de¬
scribing the lives of many others as well. The serf had much in
common with his free, or half-free brother. Both were engaged in
agriculture and in the pastoral life, and both were subject to the
routine such pursuits necessitate. Much of the time of both was
spent in the fields and about their closes. Although we shall see
howmany things there were which separated them, we must never
lose sight of the fact that, free or serf, they were engaged on
similar tasks.

1 Econ. Hist. Rev. vol. v, No. 2, p. 44: “ Although it is true that we can no
longer regard the large estate with villeins and labour services as the ‘ con¬
stituting cell* of English society in the thirteenth century, such estates do,
nevertheless, form an important section of economic life.”

The Peasant’s Year

if

I

CHAPTER IV

THE PEASANT’S YEAR

L et us now turn to the actual day-to-day operations which
medieval agriculture made necessary, and let us consider
for convenience the task confronting a manorial peasant,
who, as we have seen, had his strips in the common fields. In
those parts of England where the two-field system prevailed he
found himself working on one field during one year while the
other field lay fallow, and the next year vice versa. In those areas
where the three-field system was in vogue, one field was planted
in the autumn with wheat (and perhaps rye) as its main crop,
another with oats, vetches, or barley in the following spring,
while the third field was fallow. The next year the fallow field was
used for wheat, the first for oats, etc., while the second field
rested. The third year completed the cycle, and in this elementary
fashion men sought to keep their land fertile. It was a wellnigh
impossible task, for the number of species they had at their
command was very limited: wheat, oats, rye, barley, vetches,
beans and peas were the main crops; roSts and artificial grasses
were unknown, so that any serious rotation of crops which would
give the ground a chance to recover was impossible.

The peasants were even worse off than their lords in this
respect, for not only had the lord the unrestricted right to the
manure of his own herds, but he had also a jus faldae —a right of
folding all the manorial sheep (and sometimes all cattle) on his
own lands. This privilege he sometimes was able to exercise for
a limited period only, but on some manors he could exercise it
throughout the year. The lord’s shepherd, therefore, was ex¬
pected to see to it that his master’s fold was moved about from
place to place on the demesne, and also to report any peasants
who were so bold as to keep their sheep on their own holdings.
The privilege to do this could be got only by a cash payment.
Cattle markets and fairs were also a welcome aid in fertilising
the ground, but here also the lord usually insisted that these

7 8 THE PEASANT’S YEAR

were held on his land, and even that the dung in the streets of
the vill should be reserved for his own use. 1

All this evidence clearly indicates that medieval farmers under¬
stood quite well the need for constant manuring, and yet at the
same time it was very difficult for the peasant to accomplish this
on his own holding. When we recall the slender resources which
were at his command the reasons for his constant defeat are
obvious. First, as we have seen, the lord had the jus faldae.
Secondly we must bear in mind that the peasant could not keep
any large number of animals himself owing to the difficulty of
feeding them throughout the winter. He had great difficulty in
keeping the comparatively limited numbers he owned, and was
forced to feed them on what would now be considered very
scanty rations. The Amount of manure, therefore, he could hope
for from animals fed in this way was limited. The peasant was
caught: he had neither the number of animals, the unrestricted
use of them, nor adequate fodder to produce the quantity of
manure that soil, cultivated under the medieval cropping system,
required if it were not to lose its productive power. He did what
he could: he worked to get his land manured, and even at times
went to the great labour of carrying marl or lime and treating his
land with this, but it was an uphill task.

Indeed, some writers have gone so far as to declare that the
soil was becoming exhausted in the thirteenth and fourteenth
centuries, and that the comparatively wretched crops which were
then produced were mainly occasioned by this. So far, however,
very little evidence of any value has been produced which would
suggest that the yield per acre was falling decade by decade, and
it is difficult to see on what grounds such a theory can be sup¬
ported. 2 Exhaustion would probably have shown itself much
earlier than this, for most of the common fields date back for
several centuries; and, again, the experiments at Rothamsted
seem to be strongly against the “exhaustion” theory. There for
nearly ioo years a plot has been sown with wheat and left with¬
out manure. For the first 30 years the crop diminished rapidly,
but then seemed to reach a stationary condition, and has re-

1 Denton, op. cit . 15a.

2 The case against the “ exhaustion” theory has been best argued by
R. Lennard in the Econ. Joum.\ March 192a, where the authorities for and
against this view are quoted and discussed.

THE FALLOWS

79

mained at an average of about 12J bushels for many years, “and
will in the future diminish very slowly, if at all , \ 1 Few medieval
holdings could have been starved to a greater extent than this %
and if the “exhaustion” theory is to be sustained it will require
better evidence than has yet been produced in its support. The
comparatively low yield of medieval cropping is sufficiently ac¬
counted for by the poor supply of manure, the lack of variety of
crops and the inefficient methods of preparing the soil at the
disposal of the medieval husbandman.

With these difficulties in mind let us assume that we are
dealing with an energetic and reasonably successful peasant who
has thirty acres under the three-field system, and follow him
throughout the year as he works upon them. First, the ten acres
of fallow. These present a comparatively simple problem. As
we have seen, they form part of one of the common fields and
are open to all to feed upon, and the peasants turn their cattle out
upon them, in part to manure them, in part to graze upon the
scanty vegetation that they supply, each acre of which should be
sufficient to support two sheep at the very least. 2 From time to
time, however, preparations for the coming crop have to be
made, and the field is ploughed on three occasions. April is a
good time for this first ploughing, Walter of Henley tells us, for
then the earth breaks up well, and it is good to do it again in a
couple of months’ time, taking care not tc*plough too deeply, but
just sufficiendy to destroy the thistles. 3 After this it can be left
until the autumn, and then in October it is ploughed for the last
time before the winter corn is sown. This time the plough should
go some two finger lengths deeper than before, “then the plough
will find sure ground, and clear and free it from mud, and make
fine and good ploughing”. 4

The other two fields, however, took up much of the peasant’s
time. In January he could do little upon them, save perhaps
cart out manure or spread marl ready to be ploughed in as soon
as the weather was suitable. These were his main means of

1 A. D. Hall, The Book of the Rothamsted Experiments (1905), 37, as quoted
by Lennard.

2 Walter of Henley, 143.

3 Ibid, ii, 13. Fitzherbert advises two “stirrings’*: one in June and a
second early in September.

4 Ibid. 15.

8o

THE PEASANT’S YEAR

fertilising the soil and were most important. The straw of the
previous year’s harvest was carefully saved, and was used in the
cowsheds and stables during the winter, and then piled up out¬
side and mixed with earth, or even thrown in roads and paths for
a time. 1 Before the drought of March it was carted on to the
fields, and ploughed into the earth; 2 and so valuable was it
considered that we are told that the straw kept for this purpose
was worth half the price of the corn. 3 The peasant, therefore,
did his best to have some of this precious manure ready for his
fields, even though his lord had exercised his rights of folding
his cattle for part of the year, and thus deprived him of part of
this most valuable fertiliser. Marl was less commonly used, and
it must have been an exceedingly laborious and slow business to
cart the large quantities required on to the land, break it up
sufficiently small and then spread it about. 4

Ploughing in the early spring kept the peasant busy on his
strips, and once this was done, harrowing and then the sowing
of the spring corn (oats, barley) or the peas and beans followed.
Something has already been said about the problem of co-opera¬
tion among the peasants, but a few more words may be added.
The plough was a comparatively light and simple affair, and in
many types of soil did not require a large plough team. There is
abundant evidence to show that it was possible to manage with
only a yoke of oxen or«pair of horses, and this, it is arguable (at
the least) is what many men did do. They had, or could assemble,
a plough with two beasts to pull it, and with this could quite
well plough their strips. It is true that the ploughing was not
very deep, but it was all the ploughs of those days could manage.

Once the ground was ready the seeds were sown. These were
brought on to the field in a sack, and then a quantity from this
was placed in a wooden basket or box slung round the sower’s
neck, or tied round the waist. This box was called a seed-lip, or
hopper, 5 and from it the sower took seed and scattered it abroad

x Walter of Henley, 19, 20, 101.

2 Ibid . 20.

8 Ibid. 143. Cf. Sixth Report Hist. MSS . Commission, 598.

4 “Marie mendeth all manner of grounde, but it is costly.” Fitzherbert,
Surveyenge, cap. 32.

5 Cf. Piers Plowman , B. VI, 63:

“And hang myn hoper at myn hals in stede of a scrippe;

A busshel of bredcoroe brynge me ther-inne.”

AGRICULTURAL OPERATIONS

81

with a rhythmic movement of the body: “ when as thou walkest
thy left foot be up, let thy right hand cast abroad—and when thy
right foot be up then fling from thy left hand.” 1 At other times
a kind of apron was worn instead of the seed-lip, and the seed
scattered from this. Peas and beans, on the other hand, were
“dibbled”: a small hole was made with a pointed stick, and the
seeds at once dropped in 2 —a task which, as it seems, was usually
performed by women.

After the sowing came the harrow—“ or els crowes, doves, and
other byrdes wyll eate and beare away the comes”; else, as
Walter of Henley says, “ to pull the corn into the hollow ” which is
between the two ridges. 3 The harrow was much as we know it
to-day, if we follow the illustration in the Luttrell Psalter . There
is pictured a solid cross-barred wooden frame with teeth pro¬
jecting on its under side. 4 It is drawn by a horse, and a boy
follows, scaring off the birds by the use of a sling and stones. 5 No
doubt many peasant farmers could not afford so expensive a
thing, and made use of a rude bush-harrow, formed of black¬
thorn or whitethorn which was dragged across the ground at the
tail of a horse, and served its purpose reasonably well. 6 Some-

1 “But howe to sowe? Put thy pees in-to thy hopper, and take a brode
thonge of ledder, or of garthe-webbe of an elle longe, and fasten it to both
endes of the hopper, and put it over thy heed, lyke a leysshe; and stande in the
myddes of the lande, where the sacke lyethe, the whiche is mooste con-
veniente for the fyllynge of thy hopper, and set tJfy lefte foote before, and
take an handefull of pees: and whan thou takeste up thy ryghte foote, than
caste thy pees fro the all abrode; and whan thy lefte foot ryseth, than cast
them fro the.” This extract from Fitzherbert’s Book of Husbandry (1534 ed.),
§ 10, although some two centuries later than our period, no doubt embodies
long-standing country custom.

2 For illustrations see D. Hartley’s Thomas Tusser , 57, 97, 130 and her
Life and Work of the People of England, Fourteenth Century, 24 e; Luttrell
Psalter, PI. 93.

3 Walter of Henley, 15. 4 Ibid., Plate 94.

5 Cf. Rogers, Prices, 1, 540: “In 1334 a sling is bought, to drive away the
birds, with which a boy is armed.” In Joan Evans’ Medieval France, 28,
is reproduced an illumination of the late fourteenth century, showing the
wooden harrow, and a man with bow and arrow dealing with the birds. For
other pictures see Hartley, Thomas Tusser (1931), 57, 95.

6 A. Neckham, De Utensilibus, 113; Rogers, Prices, I, 540. Thorold
Rogers was quite mistaken in saying (p. 16) “I find no trace of harrowing or
rolling,” and again on p. 540: “We cannot conceive that an article like a
harrow could have escaped entry in the accounts had it been in use.” There is,
for example, a hersiarius on the Glastonbury Manor of Longbridge (p. 139)
and harrowing is one of the most common of duties. See pp. 81, 87, 91, 96,
100, etc. Cf. Battle Customals, 53.

BL

6

83 THE PEASANT’S YEAR

times on hard clotted ground where the harrow could make but
little impression it was necessary for the peasant to break up the
clods with wooden mallets, as they are seen to be doing in the
Luttrell Psalter . 1

Once all this was finished the peasant’s labours were not so
pressing, and he could turn to the many other secondary jobs
waiting to be done. If the land was heavy, draining operations
were constantly necessary and worth while; ditches wanted
digging out after the winter floods, and the good earth put on to
the land again; hedges and enclosures round the little home or
any private bit of enclosure required attention, and so on. Then,
as we have seen, it was time for the first ploughing of the fallow
field, and the busy activities in the garden where such vegetables
and fruits as were then available were grown. 3

So the days went by with plenty to occupy men till the end of
May. The coining of June saw them making renewed efforts.
The haymaking called for all their strength: first, there were the
numerous compulsory days which they had to spend in getting
in the lord’s hay; and, as well as this, there was their own crop
waiting in the enclosed meadows which had been carefully
guarded and reserved for this purpose since Christmas. The
mowers used a long scythe, not very different from that in
present use, the blade almost at right angles to the handle, and
perhaps a little shorter and broader than the modem scythe. 3
With this they appear to have mowed not more than one acre in
a day. 4

After the haymaking, the strips again called for much attention.
Thistles had to be uprooted, but this was not done before
St John’s Day (June 24) as a country tradition asserted that
thistles cut before this would but multiply threefold. 5 The fallow
ground was also ploughed up again to destroy weed—the
“second-stirring”, or rebinatiim, as it was called in the books.
Hemp and flax were gathered by the good-wife, and dried before
being spun into yam for thread, rope or linen yam. Both of these
plants were pulled up by the roots, not cut like com, and then

1 Ibid,, Plate 94.

8 For the peasant’s garden, see below, p. 232.

8 For illustrations see Joan Evans, Medieval France , 50, and Hartley,
Thomas Tusser , 77,

* Wilts Arch . Mag. xxxii, 318.

8 Walter of Henley , 17*

PLATE I

The peasant at work

lift mu ’ 1

THE HARVEST

83

laid out on the ground to dry a little before being put into a
convenient stream to rot away the fleshy part. This was
vigorously rubbed away, and the remainder dried thoroughly,*
and then beaten so as to get the fibres clean and separate. Then it
was ready to hang up in “strikes” to finish drying, before it was
combed out and ready for the spinning-wheel. 1 Meanwhile the
men-folk were busy weeding in the two fields under cultivation;
they used two long sticks, the one held in the left hand had a
forked end, while the other had a small curved blade. With these
they worked up and down their strips, cleaning the com of dock
and other weeds. 2

With the coming of August the peasant’s activities reached
their climax. Once again the demands made upon him by his
lord were often very heavy. He had to appear in person again
and again to gather in the lord’s crops—and, although he usually
worked one or two days more a week from August to Michaelmas
than at other times in the year, this was not enough, and he had
to give several extra days of his time as a boon or gift to his lord.
And further, he had to come with all his family: everyone able to
work, save perhaps the housewife, was pressed into service for
so many days. This made the getting-in of his own crops a more
difficult and anxious matter, and work during these crucial weeks
must have been wellnigh unending. The scythes were at work
mowing down the barley, rye, oats, peas' and beans, but the
wheat was cut with a reap-hook or sickle as in recent times. The
ear was cut off high up on the stalk leaving the straw standing.
The author of Seneschaucie speaks of five people as making a
team for this work, which suggests four to cut and one to bind.
Men working thus, he says, can gather some two acres of com a
day. 3 The cocks and sheaves were small so that they could dry
the more quickly, and be the more easily carried from the field. 4
The band tying the sheaf together is said to have been twice the

1 For full details see Bartholomew Anglicus, Medieval Lore , ed. R. Steele,
106. Cf. Chaucer’s Pardoner (C.T. Prologue , 676), whose yellow hair hung
smoothly “as dooth a strike of flex”.

2 See illustration, Luttrell Psalter , PI. 96. Here again Fitzherbert’s
Husbandry , § 20, has much to tell us of “wedes as thistyls, dockes, kedlokes,
cocledrake, damolde, gouldes, haudoddes, dogfenell, mather, ter, and dyvers
other small wedes ”. Kedloke=charlock; cocledrake=cockle; mather—dog-
fennel; ter=tares; gouldes=marigolds.

8 Op. cit. 69. 4 Ibid. 97; Fleta , Bk. n, cap. 8i, § 2.

6-2

84 THE PEASANT'S YEAR

circumference of a man's head, or that of a cord stretching from
his knee to the sole of his foot, 1 and the Luttrell Psalter shows us
♦men walking in the fields each carrying two sheaves to put on to
the great pile. 2 Gloves were worn to protect the hands while at
work, and these were usually issued freely by the lord to his
men. 3

After the com was cut and put into sheaves the Church's
portion—the tithe—had to be selected. 4 We see this being done
by Cain in the Towneley play of Cain and Abel, and may there
glimpse something of the grudging spirit with which many
men paid their dues to Holy Church. 5 6

Now the heaviest part of the year's work was over, and the
strips in the common fields all stood bare, and once again the
cattle wandered over them to seek what they could. This they
were allowed to do until the time came for the autumn ploughing.
Then they were moved away from the field that had stood
fallow for a twelvemonth and there a third and last ploughing
preluded the planting of the wheat and other seed for the coming
year. On the other fields manuring or marling were all that was
necessary, and the peasant then turned towards home and to
making provision for the coming winter. First, such fruits and
nuts as were available were gathered and stored; then, the supply
of winter fuel had to be assured. The right of taking timber from
the nearby woods wdfe jealously controlled, and it was only such
dead wood or timber not exceeding a certain dimension that was
at the peasant's disposal. The cutting down of oak or ash, with¬
out permission, meant a fine at the Manor Court; and, in general,
the lord's officers were here, there and everywhere, on the look
out for over-zealous appropriators of wood. Yet wood was essen¬
tial, not only for fuel to help pass the long winter nights, but
also for the thousand and one things about the medieval home. 5

1 Delisle, op. cit. 309* Gf. Gras, Economic and Social History of an English
Village , 235.

2 Luttrell Psalter 9 Pis. 97, 98.

3 Eynsham Cart, n, lxxxiv; V.C.H. Berks , 176.

4 See Owst, Literature and Pulpit , 261. For a long discussion (with
references) of the reasons for believing that tithe was normally deducted

from the com crop in sheaves and on the fields, see R. Lennard, Econ. jfoum.
(Supplement), Feb. 1936? 173- Tithe is here more fully discussed on p. 330.

6 Towneley Plays (E.E.T.S.), 15.

6 For further details and references, see p. 229.

WET WEATHER OCCUPATIONS 85

Even when the wood-pile was large enough, and turves or peat
had been stored wherever possible, much remained to be done.
In some parts (especially in East Anglia) the sedge was cut, for
this was well known to make the very best thatch; bracken was
gathered in great quantities to be used as bedding for the cattle
in the coming winter. The stubble, which had been left standing
when the corn was cut, was now gathered, either for thatching
or bedding, or to be cut and mixed with hay as fodder. If it was
not thus wanted, it was often ploughed in and allowed to rot and
thus nourish the soil. 1

In wet weather there was always plenty to do in threshing the
corn. The lord, of course, was able to have his done in his great
barn, but the peasants probably made shift with the more
cramped space under a lean-to against their house, or anywhere
which was dry and sufficiently large to allow of the easy
swinging of the flail. This was made of two pieces of wood
(frequently thorn) tied one to the other by a leathern thong. The
worker stood over a pile of com and by a rhythmical circular
motion brought one end of the flail down smartly on to the ears,
thus dislodging the grains of com. Once this had been done, it
was necessary to separate the chaff and straw from the grain.
This they did either by winnowing the whole with a fan so that
the lighter husks of the chaff were blown away leaving the grain,
or by tossing it up in the air near the door^f the bam so that the
breeze could catch and bear away the chaff, leaving the grains of
com to fall to the ground. The chaff itself was not wasted, but swept
up and mixed with damaged com and used as food for the beasts.

The advent of Christmas saw the bad weather bringing
work in the fields to a standstill; and, once the peasant had made
his preparations outlined above and threshed his com, he could
estimate what return he had received for all these exacting
labours throughout the year. We, unfortunately, have no exact
means of knowing this, for no kind of peasant’s accounts have
survived, or indeed, in all probability, ever existed. We can only
make an estimate based on figures obtained by an analysis of the
yield on the lord’s demesne, and from what has already been
said, it is unlikely that the peasant’s land would yield equally
well. Nevertheless, this is our only method of approach, and so
1 See Medieval Lore , 105, 106.

86

THE PEASANT’S YEAR

long as we bear in mind that our figures are only approximations
we can proceed safely. To begin with the theory laid down by
Walter of Henley: he tells us that land which did not yield more
than three times the seed sown gained its owner nothing unless
the price of com was high. 1 It is generally agreed that something
like 2§ bushels of wheat were commonly used to sow an acre in
medieval times, so that it is clear that nearly 8 bushels per acre
had to be harvested in order that there should be no loss.

Turning from theory to fact we find that, as a result of his
investigation of thousands of accounts, Thorold Rogers gave it
as his opinion that “the rate of increase was not more than four
times”, i.e. (4x2!) bushels 2 —say between 9 and 10 bushels.
A great deal of work has been done since then ; 3 and, although
even now the range of statistics is not sufficient to allow of cer¬
tainty, the figures of Sir W. Beveridge (with certain small adjust¬
ments) may be taken as our most accurate modern evidence. By
an examination of the account rolls of the Bishop of Winchester
he obtained records of wheat yields per acre from eight manors
in various counties—three in Hampshire and one each in Somer¬
set, Wilts, Oxford, Bucks and Berks. 4 His investigations led him
to the conclusion that the average yield for the period 1200 to
1250 was about 9*44 bushels. 5 These figures have since been
examined by Mr M. K. Bennett who gives reasons for believing
the Winchester figui^s to be rather low as an average for all
England, and comes to the conclusion that “perhaps 10 bushels
would not be too high; but a conservative guess would be 8 to
9 bushels ”. 6

If, then, we reckon the yield of wheat on demesne lands to
have been 8 to 9 bushels, we shall probably be over-estimating the

1 Walter of Henley, 19. a Hist, of Agric . 1, 56.

* See especially Milton Whitney, “ The Yield of Wheat in England during
Seven Centuries ”, Science , Oct. 1923, p. 320; H, Bradley, The Enclosures in
England (Columbia Univ. Studies in History, Economics and Public Law,
lxxx, No. 2); R. Lennard, “ The Alleged Exhaustion of the Soil in Medieval

England”, Econ. Journ. March 1922.

4 Econ. fount. (Supplement), May 1927, “The Yield and Price of Com in
the Middle Ages”, 155.

5 The modem 60 lb. bushel is 20 per cent, heavier than the medieval
bushel, which would give us a figure of 7-5 bushels of 60 lb. The wheat sown
would be correspondingly less.

6 Econ. fount. (Supplement), Feb. 1935, “British Wheat Yield for Seven
Centuries”, 12.

THE PEASANT'S GAIN 87

peasant's actual return if we put it at some 8 bushels per acre.
But, of course, he did not sow the whole of his land with wheat,
and Sir William Ashley 1 and others have argued very strongly
that wheat was only a small part of his crop, and that we must
envisage him as sowing rye, barley, oats, peas and beans, or
mixtures of these, all bringing in a varying return. If we sup¬
pose, for the sake of argument, that these are all sown in equal
proportions, then the yield according to the author of Hose -
bonderie would be sixfold, 2 or if we take Sir William Beveridge's
figures for wheat, barley and oats only, we get a figure of 11-4
bushels per acre. 3

From the above figures it is obvious that we shall be weighing
the balance in the peasant's favour if we assume his holdings
could be cultivated as successfully as could those of his lord, and
that, at the maximum, his average yield from all kinds of seed
was about 11J bushels per acre. We can be a little more definite
by saying that if he planted his 20 acres in equal areas of wheat,
barley and oats his crop would yield him 68 bushels of wheat,
95 bushels of barley and 70 bushels of oats. We need not, in this
connection, take any notice of the question of tithe, for, as
Mr Lennard has recently shown in so convincing a manner, tithe
was taken in the field, and before the sheaves ever reached the
grange where it had to be accounted for by the manorial officers. 4
Two deductions, however, must be maSe from this total of
233 bushels. First we must deduct the amount required as seed
corn. Again, using the Winchester figures, we find that approxi¬
mately z\ bushels of wheat, or 3! of barley or 4J of oats were re¬
quired for each acre, 5 so that the 20 acres would use up i6f, 25
and 28^ bushels respectively, leaving 163 bushels to go to the
miller. Now if we assume the miller took an average multure of
one-sixteenth, 6 this left the peasant with approximately 48, 66
and 39 bushels—a total of about 153 bushels.

The problem now faces us—what could the peasant do with
this 153 bushels of mixed corn? No answer of any great value

1 See Econ. Journ. xxxi, 285, and The Bread of Our Forefathers y passim .
For a rebuttal of Ashley’s views see Econ. Journ. xxxii, 119.

2 Op. cit. 71.

8 Op. cit. 161. This would equal 9*12 modern bushels.

4 Econ. Joum. (Supplement), Feb. 1936.

5 Beveridge, op. cit. 158. 6 See below, p. 133.

88

THE PEASANT'S YEAR

can be given, for we lack nearly all the information which would
enable us to proceed with any certainty. But several lines of
investigation give us some insight into the peasant's standards of
living, and are worthy of consideration. We may first of all deal
with the corn allowances made to manorial servants. On those
manors where the lord employed a permanent staff of plough¬
men, carters, shepherds, etc., they were paid, partly by a small
yearly wage, partly by food provided at the hall, and partly by
periodical gifts of corn. These, naturally, varied to some extent
from manor to manor and from servant to servant; but, con¬
fining ourselves to the most highly rewarded servants—the
ploughmen and carters—we find a constantly recurring figure
asserting that they received one quarter of corn in ten weeks, or
more usually in twelve weeks. 1 When this was so, it follows that
they had some 36 bushels (or in modern reckoning some
29 bushels) at their disposal in the course of the year. What,
precisely, they did with these 36 bushels we do not know; the
frequency with which some such allowance occurs suggests that
it was a normal living allowance—but whether for a single man
or for a family is more difficult to say. In later times it would
certainly have been considered a family allowance. Writers in the
eighteenth century, and more scientific critics of recent times,
seem to agree that something like one quarter of wheat was con¬
sumed annually by each person in eighteenth-century England; 2
so that, if we assume for the moment that the consumption of
bread was the same in the thirteenth as in the eighteenth century,
a medieval family of five (two adults and three children) would
want between four and five quarters of grain a year. It may well
be that the thirteenth-century peasant ate considerably more
bread than his descendant, owing to the more limited variety of
foodstuffs at his disposal. But even if so, our 20-acre holder had
plenty of margin between his 151 bushels and the 36 bushels
which are in question. All that we need to argue here is that

1 The evidence for this figure comes from a large number of manorial
accounts, printed and imprinted: see, for example, Davenport, op. cit. 24;
E.H.R. ix, 422; Neilson, Ramsey Econ. Conditions , 83; Rogers, Prices , 1,288;
11, 626; and Ministers* Accounts, 751/18-21 (Berks); 859/23 (Glos); 843/31
(Essex); 998/25 (Suffolk). It also corresponds with what we are told by the
author of Hosebonderie, 75.

2 See references and discussion in Elizabeth W. Gilboy, Wages in Eighteenth -
Century England (Harvard Economic Studies, No. 45), 22 and n. 3.

GETTING AND SPENDING 89

151 bushels gave such a peasant much more than was sufficient
for his needs.

Not all his com was used for bread: indeed it is doubtful
whether the peasant was so extravagant as to eat wheaten bread
at all, save if and when it was provided for him by his lord. 1 We
may well imagine that whenever possible he sold his wheat to
give him a little ready money for such things as he could not
make or get by exchange from a neighbour. Rogers gives the
average price of a quarter of wheat between 1261 and 1400 as
5 s. 1 of d., so that if we suppose that the peasant sold the whole
of his 48 bushels, he would have got 35s. 4 \d. in cash. The barley
and oats he would be more likely to keep for domestic needs.
Much of the barley doubtless went in the* production of his
home-brewed ale; while the remainder, and part of the oats, were
used for bread-making, and the rest of the oatmeal provided the
basis of that most common of the peasant’s daily dishes—the
pottage.

Thus we see that, taking a very favourable view of what the
servile holder could produce on his 20 acres, and assuming a
good year, it is clear that he could grow enough for his needs,
and a good deal to spare for sale or exchange. But, of course, we
must remember that all land would not yield anything like an
average of 11J bushels per acre, and that every year would not
be a good year. And further, we are here deling with the village
aristocracy—the virgaters with their 30 acres of strips. When we
remember that they were a minority on the manors, and that
tens of thousands of men had something less than a quarter of
this as their main source of livelihood, it becomes evident that
life for them was always a struggle—a struggle in which they
were bound to lose unless the seasons were propitious to them. 2

But the resources of the peasant were not limited to his sacks
of grain. He had other means of livelihood, and of these the
most important was his stock of animals. These, as we have seen,
were limited in number, both by manorial custom or by-law,
which determined how many of each kind should feed on the
commons or fallows, and further by the fact that the peasant

1 See below, pp. hi, 235.

2 In Germany in 1871, on lands where conditions were still medieval, it
was officially stated that 20 acres in some parts (Land Tenure Reports , Part II,
131) and 10 acres in others were necessary to support a family of five or six.

THE PEASANT’S YEAR

90

could not afford to have an unlimited number of beasts to feed
throughout the winter. For the average peasant, however, some
stock was vital, but when we come to enquire as to the numbers
of these kept by the peasantry we have no body of reliable in¬
formation to help us. There are a few local Assessment Rolls for
taxes on moveables between 1290 and 1334 which give the stock
on which the villagers were assessed, but they are very few in
number and their evidence is difficult to interpret. 1 It seems
probable that the number of sheep, for example, kept by any one
peasant depended on the nature of the country. Thus in pastoral
districts such as Holderness, or the South Downs, or Wiltshire,
peasants are found owning considerable numbers of sheep,
while in agricultural districts they own comparatively few. 2

Oxen and cows demand attention first, for they came into the
peasant’s everyday life in innumerable ways. The oxen, of
course, were invaluable for all kinds of farm work and were
widely used all over England. Horses, it is true, were more and
more used from the Conquest onwards, but, nevertheless, conser¬
vative landowners, like Walter of Henley, still believed in oxen,
and thought them more useful and more economical than horses.
More than that, as he says, “When the horse is old and worn out
then there is nothing but the skin; and when the ox is old, with
ten pennyworth of grass he shall be fit for the larder. Similarly
the cow played a cofteiderable part in all but the humblest house¬
holds. It provided milk for most of the year, although the
quantity fell off considerably after Michaelmas, owing to the lack
of good feeding, and it was not till the following May that the
cow came into full milk once again. The difference is estimated
by the author of Hosebonderie to be such that the yield was worth
3$. 6 d. during the summer months, but only xod. for the rest of
the year. After Christmas, indeed, the yield was so small that
milk fetched three times its summer price. 4 At the worst, how¬
ever, even two or three cows were a real asset to a struggling

1 The best monograph is that of Willard, Parliamentary Taxes and Personal
Property .

2 By the kindness of Prof. Eileen Power I have had an opportunity of
studying^ her transcripts of a number of the existing assessment rolls which
show quite clearly the variations in stock in different parts of the country. It
is to be hoped that she will be able to publish an account of her researches in
this side of the pastoral economy before long,

* Op. dt. 13.

4 Op. cit. 77*

OXEN, COWS AND SHEEP 91

family. If they wished they could make butter and cheese of the
milk, or sell it in the neighbouring vill. Each cow was reckoned
to produce seven stone of cheese and one stone of butter between
May and Michaelmas. 1 If we take the average price of seven
stone of cheese to have been about 5 s. od. from 1260 to 1400, and
that of a stone of butter at g\d., it is clear that the cash value of a
cow in full milk was considerable, and cows were hired out at
from 55. to 65. 8a?. a year. 2

But, as Walter of Henley reminds us, both oxen and cows had
their value as food, and the peasant salted down his ox at
Martinmas, and it undoubtedly provided his main store of flesh
for the winter. It was probably tough and stringy, and lacking in
fat, but he had perforce to make the best of it. Then again the
hides were of the greatest importance, and were probably
tanned in the village, and afterwards used for innumerable pur¬
poses both domestic and agricultural. Further, these animals
could always be sold for cash at the local market or elsewhere.
Oxen were worth some 13s. od. as an average price in the
thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, while cows and bulls fetched
about io$. per head. 3

After his oxen and cows, the sheep probably gave the peasant
most concern, for while they were not so easily managed nor so
productive as the pig, nor so useful on the farm as the ox, they
were almost a necessity. Their wool, their'Skins and their car¬
cases were obviously all of prime importance to the peasant in
many ways, and even their milk was used to eke out other
supplies. Hence, although as we have seen, the villagers were
not always allowed to get full value from their sheep, since they
were from time to time folded on the lord’s land, and also were
not easily kept in some districts, yet, nevertheless, they were of
sufficient value and importance to form part of almost every
peasant’s stock. We may, therefore, picture our imaginary
peasant as striving, year by year, to preserve, or even to enlarge
his small flock, despite the terrible incidence of murrain and the
shortage of feed which were continuously warring against him,
since he could provide but little food for them other than that

1 Op. cit. 77. Cf. p. 37, where Walter of Henley says that 3 cows will only
produce 14 stone (1 wey) of cheese between Easter and Michaelmas.

Rogers, Prices, i, 397, 453. > Md ^ 36i _

THE PEASANT'S YEAR

92

they could obtain for themselves as they wandered over the open
fallows and the waste surrounding the village.

Of all his animals, however, in some ways the pig (then as now)
ranked highest in the peasant's eyes, for no animal was so easily
fed, and no animal so easily put on flesh and was so soon prepared
for the slaughter according to medieval standards. The village
swineherd 1 was of the first importance in village life: he it was
who gathered together the swine of his neighbours and led them
off into the woods when these were thrown open to them, and
the acorns were falling. At other times he drove them on to the
waste or on the fallows to get what they could; for, unless they
could obtain a great deal of food in this way, it was considered
highly unprofitable to keep them. Only during the hardest
months after Christmas was it thought economically sound to
supply them with anything but waste and what they could pick
up outside the house and on the manor. Thorold Rogers tells
us that “it would seem that the medieval farmer reckoned on
two to four bushels as necessary in order to bring what we should
call marketable pigs into sufficient condition ” 2 We may suspect,
however, that those pigs which were not destined for the market
seldom received such luxurious feeding, and that they were
slaughtered in what we should consider to be a miserable
condition.

These were theirtnost valuable accessory food supplies after
their com, but to these we must add poultry of many kinds.
Chickens were everywhere: we are constantly surprised at the
large number of eggs a peasant has to produce at given seasons
of the year, and the ideal of Henri IV that every peasant should
have a chicken for his pot must have been a fairly widespread
possibility in the thirteenth century. Walter of Henley tells us
that a hen ought to lay 180 eggs a year, but the author of
Hosebonderie is content with 115 eggs and 7 chicks. Besides these
chickens, geese were fairly common, and sometimes numerous
enough to demand the presence of a village gooseherd. 3

1 For the swineherd’s duties see Walter of Henley , 113. For illustration,
see Luttrell Psalter , PI. 14.

2 Rogers, Prices , 1, 337: “ Some idea of the condition of these pigs may be
gathered from the note in vol. ii, p. 383, in which we learn that 35 pigs gave
180 lb. of lard, that is, a little more than 5 lb. apiece.”

8 See picture of gooseherd in Luttrell Psalter , PI. 91.

WILD LIFE

93

Further food supplies were at times and in places available,
but are very much more difficult to assess. At the edge of every
manor, where great woods or waste or fen began, the wild animal
life was abundant—more abundant, perhaps, than we have any
means of estimating. Certainly the vast extent of cover provided
by these wild uncultivated stretches gave shelter to almost endless
numbers of wild beasts and birds. The great stretches of thorn,
for example, housed myriads of small birds, and the wily villager
had little difficulty in trapping these by means of small nets,
much in the same way as the bird-snarer worked within living
memory on unwatched heaths and open places. These birds
could be caught in great numbers and sold, or used as welcome
additions to the housewife’s pot. Such action may or may not
have been tolerated by custom (depending to some extent on the
local lord’s rights); but, undoubtedly, much hunting and snaring
went on that could by no means be thought of as lawful. Indeed,
poaching seems to have been one of the most common of the
pastimes of the peasant, and every manorial record is likely to
bear evidence of the arrest or of the depredations of the village
poacher.

All seem to have been implicated—the parson as well as the
peasant, and it is clear that few men could resist the temptation
offered to them by the sight of this “ God’s plenty 5,1 which was
all about them, and which (to be fair to theift) fed on their com
and constituted a formidable nuisance at their very doors. Take
rabbits for example. We learn that in certain parts of the country
they were little short of a pest. The men of Ovingdean (Sussex)
say that there are ioo acres of arable, lying annihilated by the
destruction of the rabbits of the lord Earl Warenne, valued at
j£i. 5$. od. ; a or, as another inquisition tells us, the holding “is of
small value because the rabbits are beginning to burrow in that
place ”. 3 In another part of England altogether, on the manor of
Higham Ferrars, we are told that they abounded, and special
enclosures were made by the lord for their protection. 4

Another nuisance to the peasant was the dove or pigeon. The
lord’s dove-house was one of the most familiar of medieval

1 Durham Halmote Rolls , 91, 131, 178, 185; Davenport, op. cit. 75;
Wakefield Rolls .

2 Sussex Arch. Soc. Coll. 1, 62. * C. Pullein, Rotherfield , 70.

4 AA..S.R. xxxiii, 135.

THE PEASANT’S YEAR

94

sights. No peasant was allowed to have one, or to kill these birds
however numerous they were, and however harmful to his
crops. 1 After a monotonous fare of salted fish or meat the dove
was a great delicacy, and from Norman times onward the birds
had been protected in the interests of the great. Large dove-
houses, sometimes holding hundreds of birds, were built and
from thence hordes of these voracious feeders descended on the
unfortunate peasants’ fields taking their fill and fattening them¬
selves for the lord’s table at his men’s expense. Little wonder
that the dove-house became one of the most hated landmarks of
the lord’s position and of the subjection of the villagers. Both
doves and rabbits, however, found their way into the hands of
others than their owners, and men were constantly presented at
manorial courts for taking rabbits with snare or ferret, or for
catching pigeons with nets or divers traps (diversa ingenia). 2

Many kinds of wild animals were also abundant, but forbidden
to the villager, for by the thirteenth century most manorial lords
had got from the king a grant of free-warren 3 which prevented
anyone entering their lands to hunt wild animals. The legal im¬
plications of such rights became very tangled in the course of
time: no one might follow the hunt of a fox or a hare into warren
land; but, on the other hand, to follow the hunt of a deer, in such
circumstances, was no trespass, for deer were “beasts of the
forest”, and not “blasts of the warren”. Further, the lack of any
clearly marked boundaries delimiting a warren made matters
more difficult. The forest had its “ pale ” or fence, but the warren
lay open. Within its confines, however, the hare, rabbit, pheasant,
and every kind of bird, as well as many kinds of vermin were all
plentiful, and it was impossible to prevent the peasant, either
out of sheer desperation or sheer devilment, from taking what he
could get whenever the chance offered.

Yet another source of supply was at the peasant’s very door.
The rivers were full of fish—sometimes carefully preserved, but

1 Y.B. 7 Ed. II, 183 n.

2 For illustrations and much information, see A. O. Cooke’s Dovecotes , and
A.A.S.R. xxxm, 138 and 368, and many references there.

2 This is an excellent example of F. W. Maitland’s dictum that when we
read in medieval times of a man having a free this or that, in reality what was
meant was that he was thereby free to oppress somebody else. So here: the
lord’s ‘‘free-warren” obviously was anything but free to the villager.

THE PEASANT’S. RESOURCES

95

generally unwatched save for the sporadic care of one of the
lord’s servants. All great houses and large establishments also
had their fishponds, and throughout the year fresh and salt fish
from river as well as from the sea was a constant item in the diet
of the upper classes. Here again the peasant could not be denied:
in the north of England the salmon was a rich prize. If a man
could be lucky enough by a bit of quiet night work to get a
sizeable fish from the waters of his lord, then he and his family
were well provided for during the next few days. Eels again were
everywhere and were eagerly trapped, and so were the ordinary
river fish as we know them to-day. Men were caught fishing
with “ Angleroddes ”, or setting eel traps, or using nets and other
“engines” against the orders of their lord, and were fined in his
court. 1

Our rapid examination of the 30-acre holder’s resources leaves
the impression that, given reasonable harvests, he had no diffi¬
culty in producing enough com and livestock to keep himself and
his family, and to leave something over for sale or exchange. But
we have constantly to be reminding ourselves that no manor was
made up of the “ typical ” villein—the virgater or 30-acre holder.
As we have seen, every manor had a number of undermanni —
men holding anything from a little “close” of a rood or two to
seven or eight acres, as well as others who held as much as half a
virgate and so on. The manorial holdings were capable of in¬
numerable grades, and the resources of the lowest of these grades
must have been slender. If we assume that some 36-40 bushels
of com were a minimum requirement for a normal family, it is
clear that this required a holding of between five and ten acres—
and probably nearer ten than five—on which it could be grown.
Those who held less than this were forced to adopt a lower stan¬
dard of living, or to seek auxiliary means of augmenting their
incomes by helping on wealthier men’s holdings, or by working as
manorial servants, or as communal shepherds or swineherds, or
in one of the village trades.

But whatever means were employed, it seems that a consi-

1 E.g. Hales Rolls,■ 135, 284. The men of the monks of Eynsham {Eynsham
Cart. 11, 10) gave them 6 d. a year for the right to fish in certain waters, while
three men were fined is. 6 d. at Carshalton for using too close a net in the
common water “to the great destruction of the fish” (Surrey Record Soc.
II, 23). For further remarks, see also p. 269.

96 THE PEASANT’S YEAR

derable number of peasants in the medieval village lived very
near the border line of actual want. 1 For them, as for the poor
man in Piers Plowman, there was many a “ winter time when they
suffered much hunger and woe y

1 For an account of the foodstuffs available to them, see p. 334.

ti

Rents and Services

CHAPTER V

RENTS AND SERVICES

D espite the fact that both free and serf spent much of
their time at similar labour in the fields there was a pro¬
found gulf between them in other ways. Once the free
man had paid his yearly rent it was not often that anything
further except of a trifling nature was required of him by his lord.
The serf, however, found things very much more oppressive.
Not only had he to pay his rent, but a number of other small cash
payments were exacted. Miss Neilson, in her Customary Rents ,
has given a full account of such payments, and it will suffice our
purpose to note that they are all charges upon the serf for this or
that small favour or privilege. Before he could touch even a
piece of dead wood he had to pay his yearly “wood-penny”; he
was forced to take a hen or some eggs at set seasons to the manor
house as a payment for the privilege of keeping poultry about his
own house; when he sold one of his beasts the lord frequently
received a part of the purchase price. On all sides he found him¬
self unable to do what his free neighbour could do. As is well
known, his lord demanded a small payment when the serf wished
to give one of his daughters in marriage; he could not let his boy
go away from the manor to be taught by some friendly priest or
at a nearby school without again putting his hand in his pocket
—the restrictions under which he lived were many; and, although
many of them were petty, yet in sum they bulked large, and
influenced his whole life.

Some of them, however, were far from being petty even in
themselves, and were a constant charge on his energies and his
pocket, and a constant reminder to him of his servile condition.
He was continuously forced to put his lord’s affairs first and his
own second, and to find pence and shillings for reasons he could
not have understood, even if they had been explained to him.

Such a state of affairs had gradually evolved as a consequence
of the introduction and development of the manorial system in
England. Little by little, throughout those parts of England that
became manorialised, a state of affairs between lord and serf

100

RENTS AND SERVICES

had grown up which became known as “the custom of the
Manor”. Vinogradoff asserts that the lords “allowed” such a
custom to grow up, 1 but this seems too simple a view of a very
complex matter. The domestic staff of any household to-day
have conditions of labour, and hours “off duty”, which would
have seemed impossible to our grandmothers. In a sense our
mothers have “ allowed ” these conditions to grow up, but in fact
it is only by making such allowances that they have been able to
retain a staff at all. Even the most reactionary employer finds
she must allow “Sundays off”, and half-days every week, at
whatever inconvenience to herself. So it was on the manor.
Certainly, in theory, the will of the lord was all-compelling, and
in that sense it may be said that any privilege or relaxation of
strict legal theory was a result of the lord’s indulgence. But, in
actual fact, it is much more probable that the lord “allowed”
what he found himself powerless to prevent. A strong steward or
bailiff on the one hand, or a determined body of serfs on the
other, could change things on any one manor in the course of a
very few years, especially before “the custom of the Manor ” be¬
came sufficiently established and fixed in men’s minds to be of
any very great importance, and also before lords had had it
written down formally. For many decades after the Conquest, a
continuous change was taking place: every manor was the scene
of an endless contest in which lord and serf each struggled to
obtain their own ends. On the one hand there was the lord (or
his agents) exercising the power which his ownership of the
manor gave him. This power was often very considerable—
whether by right or by usurpation we need not now consider 2 —
and naturally it was used to protect and to extend the lord’s own
ends. He may at times have been a beneficent patriarch and at
times something considerably less than this; but, in any case,
there he was, controlling the peasant’s life to a very great extent.
It is true that gradually there was created “the custom of the
manor”, and it is generally correct to say that this was deter¬
mined by the verdict of the peasants from time to time. They gave
the “dooms”, and these were really determinations of the cus¬
toms obtaining on the manor. Yet, even so, a powerful lord or a
harsh steward could do much to force a decision favourable to
1 Econ . Joum . x, 309. 2 For this see below, Chapter vin.

THE CUSTOM OF THE MANOR ioi

himself; and when, during the second half of the thirteenth
century, lords began systematically to put their customs into
writing, they at once arrested any hope of rapid change, and also
protected themselves against the possibility of its being easy to
convince the court of the wisdom or the necessity for any fresh
interpretation of custom. Henceforward the custom of the manor
is on record; it no longer exists merely in the memories of the
“wiser and saner” peasants empanelled to give a “doom”, but
can be (and is) constantly turned up while the Court sits, and is
quoted and used on the lord’s behalf. Not only is it on record,
but it is a record drawn up by lawyers eager to make all things
clear, who tended to reduce any wavering and uncertain customs
to a steady and clear-cut pattern, and to phrase in the lord’s
favour any equivocal or doubtful matters.

Against all this the peasant fought, and was continuously
fighting. He probably found it difficult to realise the implications
of much that happened in the Manor Court when he was called
on for a decision. He knew that it was the custom to ask his
opinion, and that his “dooms” were the result of his own
personal knowledge and of his practical judgment, and had to
leave it at that. Common sense urged him to interpret matters in
his own favour as far as was possible, and the rigid cash basis on
which manorial affairs were conducted encouraged him to buy
himself freedom from this or that liability as he saw the chance.
No general account of this slow process is worth much, for con¬
ditions varied enormously from manor to manor, but over several
centuries the fight went on, and the immense variation of custom,
as expressed in these rents and services, is evidence enough of
this. Every variation, could we but read between the lines, has
its own story to tell, for every variation came about only by
pressure on one side or the other. Occasionally the veil is
lifted, and we can see something of what must have happened
again and again up and down the country throughout these
centuries.

Take, for example, the quarrel over the payment of sheep as
part of the heriot by the men of the Abbot of Vale Royal. The
customal says: “And as to sheep, let them be divided like all
other goods of the deceased which ought to be divided.” The
revealing sentences, however, follow, and are most illuminating:

102

RENTS AND SERVICES

This is inserted in this place, by itself, because when the convent
first came to Darnhale, the bond-tenants said that no division ought
to be made of the sheep, but that all the sheep ought to remain wholly
to the wife of the deceased. Which is quite false, because we always
used to divide them without gainsaying it at all, until Waren le
Granteunour was bailiff of Darnhale; and while he was bailiff he was
corrupted with presents, and did not exact the lord’s share of all things
in his time; and afterwards the bond-tenants endeavoured to make this
a precedent and custom, which they by no means ought to do . 1

But for this addendum we should have known nothing of the
struggle which had been waged over the partition of the sheep,
and by it we are also reminded of the extent to which the lord
was dependent on his agents, and of the wisdom lying behind
the careful drawing up of the written customals. Cases such as
this, or the revolts at Dunstable , 2 or Burton , 3 or Meaux , 4 are
evidence enough of the necessity for reading the bald statements
of the customals with a wideawake attention. Only by so doing
shall we sense the underlying agitation that was changing con¬
ditions on innumerable manors—an agitation, however, which
was seldom violent enough to leave any very obvious traces, even
to the diligent reader of customal and court roll.

With such general considerations in mind we may now turn to
see the way in which the “power of the lord” had determined
what services and what payments the serf should make, and
how they are to be found in their essentials all over the country,
despite local modifications and variations, due to “the custom
of the Manor ”,

One of the most characteristic features of the manorial system
was its insistence on manual labour as one important element in
the return a man made to his lord for the privilege of holding
land on the manor. He might, and generally did, make certain
money payments, but his obligation to render a specified amount
of work from time to time was all important. The lord depended
to a greater or less degree upon the work thus exacted for the
cultivation of his part of the manor, for the proper tending of his
cattle and the upkeep of his manor house. Of course it is true

1 Vale Royal Ledger Book (Lancashire and Cheshire Rec. Soc.), 119.

2 Ann. Burnt. (R.S.), 1 22.

8 (Wm. Salt Soc.) Staff. Collections , v, 82.

4 Melsa Ckron . (R.S.), in, 126.

WEEK-WORK

103

that he often had a nucleus of servants who lived all the year at
his house , 1 and also that sooner or later most lords allowed their
serfs to make an additional money payment in place of some or all
of their works. Nevertheless, for a long time, and over large
areas of England, many hundred thousands of peasants were
forced throughout the year to leave their own affairs from time to
time in order to do work of various kinds for their lord.

We cannot generalise very exactly as to what such a demand
meant. It varied on various manors, in various areas, and at
various times. It was not even the same on all the manors held
by any one lord. This we may say, however: in general it was a
distinguishing mark between bond and free. A number of in¬
stances can be quoted which show free men rendering week-
works, but they must be regarded as exceptional, and were so
regarded by the lawyers of the thirteenth century, who more
and more tended to consider the uncertainty which attached to
week-works as one of the stigmata of the serf. Hence Bracton’s
famous definition: “For that is an absolute villainage, from
which an uncertain and indeterminate service is rendered, where
it cannot be known in the evening, what service is to be rendered
in the morning .” 2 Further, we may note that the work required
by the lord was roughly commensurate with the size of the
holding. Everything depended upon this, and the number of
mouths to be fed, or of young sons eager for work who resided
on each holding, was of no account to the lord. He was concerned
only with the due render of what had been determined to be the
burden of such a holding. Hence a virgate-holder’s duties, which
look so formidable at first sight, become far less onerous when
we reflect that in all probability he was married, and had sons
and daughters, and even servants of his own to help him. Thus
he was able to plough his own acres and those of his lord, and to
carry on a hundred and one other jobs without undue strain, by
the simple method of sending one or more of his own family or
helpers to the manor house, while the rest of the household
carried on at home.

It is true, as we have already seen, that he was expected on a few

1 See below, p. 182.

2 Bracton, op . cit. 1, 207. But see below, p. 139 n 1 ., which shows this to be
an undue simplification.

RENTS AND SERVICES

i °4

occasions to appear with all his family and servants; but, for the
most part, the lord contented himself by exacting only such
service as might be rendered by a single person in the course of a
day’s work. And even when we have said this we have not made
clear what was meant by a day’s work in the thirteenth-century
cartularies. For example, a day’s work is frequently defined as
the threshing of two bushels of wheat or a quarter of oats, or the
mowing of an acre or rather less of hay, or the cutting of a half
acre of corn—or a multiplicity of other jobs 1 —all of which, how¬
ever, have this in common: they represent only something like
half a day’s actual work. 2 Old farm labourers still speak of
cutting two acres of wheat by hand between the hours of 4 a.m.
and 10 p.m.; and, making allowances for then and now, this helps
us to realise that (in the later Middle Ages, though it had doubt¬
less been stricter in the past) the man who was called upon to
work three days a week, as a matter of fact actually worked only
for a portion of each of those days, and even then, as we have
seen, this generally took but one member of the household away
from the family holding.

We may emphasise this point (which is of great importance,
and has not been fully appreciated in modern discussions of this
question) by noting the terms used to define the hours of work
demanded of the peasant, especially at the busiest times of
year—the hay and corn harvests. The cartularies make it clear
that it is an unusual thing to demand a man’s work for the whole
day, and when this is exceptionally required the cartulary says so
quite clearly. Thus the men of Stoneley in Warwickshire are to
be in the field during the harvest at sunrise and to work till
sunset , 3 and the same hours are expressly required in many other
instances. 4 Again at Forncett, for the greater part of the year the
lord exacted manual works which lasted for half the day only:
in the autumn, however, the works are stated to be per diem

1 See any cartularies passim for this. E.g. Ramsey Cart . 1, 288, 299, 310,
323 , 335 , 345 , etc.

* Cf. Norf. Arch, xiv, 19, where Mr W. Hudson writes: “Work for a whole
day on the land counted for 2 works

8 Dugdale, Warwick> 177 a.

4 Frideszvide's, St. Cart . n, 357; Arch. Joum . LVIII, 355; Min. Acc. 987/19,
etc. The men of the monks of Eynsham come to their harvesting ante pulsum
campani missa beate Marie , and are not allowed to sit to eat their breakfast or
otherwise ante coUacionem —presumably about noon. Eynsham Cart . n, 40.

THE CUSTOMALS

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integrum , 1 Even in the harvest season a day’s work often means
only till noon: a man may send two men to work till noon, or
only one if he stays till evening (usque vesper am) ; 2 or again, work
terminates at noon unless the lord gives a repast, in which case
work is resumed until evening. 3

If we bear these facts in mind we shall not be so overwhelmed
when we read that at Waldon and Walpole in East Anglia(c. 1270)
six days’ work a week were performed throughout the year, 4 or
that in the West of England, the monks of Gloucester in 1266-7
were exacting a minimum of four days’ work most of the year
and five days at harvest. 5 Even on manors as heavily burdened
as these, it left a man with considerable time for his own work,
except on a very few occasions. And he was protected from
attempts to demand more of him by the exactness with which his
services were usually defined. Years before the first accounts of
such services were written down (and few written accounts exist
earlier than 1225) custom had hardened and settled what was
each tenant’s burden, and any move to increase this was fiercely
resisted by him and all his fellows. 6 It is true that they were not
always able to withstand pressure from above, and no doubt
services actually increased on some manors in the thirteenth
century; but, generally speaking, services slowly dwindled as the
peasants bought their freedom from such liabilities. 7

The exactness with which services are defined, and the meti¬
culous way they are accounted for in the annual accounts may
lead us too far in a belief in medieval order and regularity.
Although the lord had a right to the works, he did not always
demand them as regularly or as completely as we may easily be
led to believe. As regards regularity..Mr Hudson writes:

It is often taken for granted that the obligation to do one work a
week, or sometimes three or four, meant literally so many days’ work
regularly, in consecutive weeks. Whatever the original practice may

1 Davenport, op. cit. xxxix.

2 Battle Cvst. 87: cf. a mane usque nonam , 63, 74, 76, 78, 94 and Crondal
Records , 112, 113, 120.

8 Norf, Arch, xx, 185; and cf. p. 189, where ploughing goes on till noon if
dinner is provided, otherwise it ceases at tierce (9 a.m.).

4 Med. East Anglia 81; cf. Norf. Arch, xx, 185; Ramsey Cart. 1, 310.

5 Glouc. Cart, hi, 52, 53.

8 Neilson, Ramsey Econ. Conditions, 29; Cur. Reg. Rolls , 1, 4; Levett, op. cit .
65 n. 2. 7 See below, p. 279.

106 RENTS AND SERVICES

have been, by the thirteenth century the week-works were, at least in
many places, not regular, but largely occasional. They were, so to
speak, kept in stock by the reeve, and demanded when and where
most needful, a strict account being rendered at the end of the year. 1

This point of view is emphasised by Miss Lovett from her in¬
tensive study of the Bishop of Winchester’s manors, where she
finds that

there was always a very considerable margin [of works] of which the
lord may take advantage when crops are exceptionally heavy, when
the weather was unfavourable, or the Saints’ days fell unfortunately,
or when some change of method, such as increased fencing or en¬
closing, caused an unprecedented demand for labour. 2

If, as sometimes happened, the lord had no need to take ad¬
vantage of this margin, the works were either excused or sold to
the peasants. A common item in the manorial compoti , which
gives a full account of “works sold” or “works acquitted”, 3 is a
reminder to us that many more works were often owed than were
in fact ever demanded. Hence, here again, the seemingly heavy
demand of the cartulary or extent needs some scrutiny before it
can be taken at its face value.

With these considerations in mind we may turn to examine
the various types of work exacted from the peasant. His obliga¬
tions here fall into two main divisions, week-works, and “boon”
works. Week-works, as the name implies, were rendered week
by week throughout the year; “boon” works were only per¬
formed occasionally and as “extras”. The working year was
divided into two parts—from Michaelmas to the beginning of
August, and from then on to Michaelmas again. During this
latter period, on account of the corn harvest, rather more work
was demanded from the serf, so that whereas for the greater part
of the year he had to perform say two or three days’ work a week,
during this period he was called on for three to five days a week,
as well as for a number of “ boon ” works in addition.

The week-works may be grouped conveniently about certain
operations, and of these the most important was the ploughing.
Whether the lord’s land (the demesne) was a separate part of the

1 Sussex Arch. Soc. Lin, 172.

a Levett, op. cit. 65; cf. 88, 180; V.C.H. Berks , 18 1.

8 E.H.R. ix, 420 ff.; Trans . Royal Hist . Soc. xiv, 124; Levett, op. cit . 65;
Glouc . Cart . in, 185, 194.

PLOUGHING SERVICES

107

manor, or whether his strips lay side by side with those of his
tenants, they had to be ploughed by the communal teams of the
villagers. Everyholdinghadacertaindutyimposeduponit. Some¬
times this was expressed in the number of acres to be ploughed,
or in the number of days of ploughing to be given in the year;
sometimes the customal exacted a certain quantity of work from
a group of serfs and left it to them to make their own arrangements.

A few cases, taken from the manors of the Bishop of Chichester
in the middle of the thirteenth century, will illustrate the inci¬
dence of these ploughing works. A virgater of Ferring is bound
every other week to attend with one of his fellows, and to do
whatever ploughing is needed,

unless a holy-day or rainy weather prevents. If the weather is rainy
so that he cannot plough, in that week he shall do another work; but
if he has ploughed two or three furrows, and then has to unyoke
owing to rainy weather, he shall do no other work that day, unless the
weather clears enough for him to plough. 1

At Selsey, the virgater ploughs an acre and a half, if needed, every
other week between Michaelmas and Lady Day, and aids with
his plough team the ploughing and harrowing of the land before
barley is sown. 2 At Sidlesham, the holder of two virgates ploughs
and harrows twelve acres in winter, and twelve acres in Lent, and
must do another acre in winter and Lent if so desired in place of
other work. 3 And with this ploughing often went the associated
works of sowing and harrowing. A man has to fetch the seed
from the lord's granary, sometimes to be sown by the lord's
sower, sometimes to be sown by himself, 4 or he may even be
sent to fetch it from another manor, 6 either because of a shortage,
or because of a common belief that seed from another manor
would yield better than that produced and sown on the home
land. 6

Besides work in the fields, repairs to the manor house and the
buildings around it were usually done by the peasants. Under
the care of expert carpenters or masons “they tore down old

1 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxx, 71.

2 Op . cit. 16. 8 Op . cit. 23.

4 Op. cit. 88. 5 Op. cit. 89.

6 Walter of Henley , 19: “ Change your seed every year at Michaelmas, for
seed grown on other ground will bring more profit than that which is grown
on your own.”

io8

RENTS AND SERVICES

walls, dug the clay, and fetched water to ‘temper’ it; pulled
off the old thatch and cut and brought stubble for the new”. 1
A clear account of the sort of work demanded may be found in
the customal of Fure in Sussex ( c . 1250), where men are ordered

to come with carpenter’s tools to make a hay barn, if needed, or to
mend it, and they shall help the master carpenters to flaw the timber
and carry it at the precept of the carpenter, but shall make no holes
to put the posts in; they shall find the timber for the said barn from
their own wood, at the lord’s will. They shall have the bark and the
top and lop, and the lord shall throw the timber. If the master
carpenter is not content with their work they shall make a fine at the
lord’s will and depart home (et recedent ); and [otherwise] they shall
stay until the bam is built. 3

Once the land was ploughed and sown there was plenty for the
serf to do (during the lull before the harvest) in order to dis¬
charge his weekly obligation. Sometimes, the customals merely
say that he does “whatever the lord wills” on such days, but
often it is more explicit, and we may see exactly how he was
occupied. He carts dung from the stables and cowsheds and
spreads it about his lord’s fields; then, after the ploughings he
comes to harrow and to weed from time to time; he tends and
plants in the lord’s garden; in the summer cuts the hay, binds
and carries it to the lord’s barns. Then in autumn, after cutting
and carrying the corn, he helps to clean, thresh and winnow the
grain, and to collect the best of the straw for use in roofing stacks
and houses. He scours ditches, trims hedges and makes fences;
he gathers reeds and rushes for thatching, or apples for cider.
There was also the care of the animals of the lord and of the vill:
the swineherd drove the pigs to feed in the woods; the shepherd
had the flock to wash and shear and to pasture on the commons
and in the meadows when they were thrown open, as well as to
move the lord’s fold from place to place on the demesne; the
oxherd had to plough and work with the lord’s oxen and clean
out the byre. Every customal has its variations, but all show us
the bulk of the manorial population performing all the innu¬
merable services incident to agriculture as a part of the price they
had to pay for their own holdings.

1 Davenport, op. cit. 22; cf. Sussex Rec. Soc. XXXI, 54.

a Sussex Rec. Soc* xxxi, 76. Fure is Highfure in Billingshurst.

CARRYING SERVICES

109

Apart from all this, which was mainly work round about the
village, the serf was liable to render carrying services both in or
out of the manor if required. On many manors it was necessary
to carry the corn and other produce either to the lord’s residence
(often in another manor or part of the county), or else to the
nearest market town where it could be sold. This carriage was
performed by the serfs—those with large holdings being obliged
to lend their horses and carts for the purpose, while the smaller
holders were forced to carry on their backs {super dorsum ). In
some surveys we find it stated clearly that so many days of such
work are required, and also the distances or places are named.
For example, on one Ramsey manor a man might be forced to
carry to a distance of twenty leagues, 1 while on another Ramsey
manor he could stop after going only twelve. 2 On yet another
of these manors a serf was obliged to carry to Ramsey, London,
Ware or Cambridge as required, but he was compensated by
food and relaxation of other works for his journeys to London
and Ramsey. 3 Again, the serf on some manors only carried when
his turn came round, 4 or after he had had a day off to get his cart
ready, 5

On manors such as those of the Canons of St Paul’s, or the
monks of Battle, these carting services outside the manor were
peculiarly heavy, since an old system still prevailed whereby each
manor had the duty of sending its produce from time to time to
the lord’s residence. On the St Paul’s manors, for example, this
was carried by the peasants secundum quantitatem tenementi, and
several times a year by cart, or sometimes by boat, they had to
bring food to London. 6 Even the smaller holders were not
exempt, for they were compelled to help load the boats, or drive
the swine to London. 7 Similarly on the Battle manors, or those
of the Bishop of Durham and elsewhere, the peasants were con¬
tinually moving to and fro in order to provide food and com for
the use of their lords, 8 since these large households, with their

1 Ramsey Cart . 1, 50; cf. Glas. Rentalia , 165 (20 leagues).

2 Op. dt. 1, 56; cf. Glas. Rentalia , 136 (15 leagues).

8 Op. dt. 1, 46. 4 Glas. Rentalia , 161.

6 Op. dt. 83. 6 D.S.P. 17, 34 > 47 > 68.

7 Op. dt. 27, 68.

8 Battle Cust . 122; Hatfield’s Survey , 4, 8, 38, 99, etc. And cf. Oust. Roff.

2, 9.

no

RENTS AND SERVICES

masses of retainers, required the produce of many manors in the
course of a year.

Even within the manor, as we have seen, a good deal of carrying
service was exacted from the serfs. Anything the lord needed at
the manor house was carried by them; building materials, wood
for firing, corn, hay—all imposed a fairly heavy burden. Some
details concerning the carriage of wood may serve as an example.
At Amberley, in Sussex, the large holder had to link his team
with that of one of his fellows, and their four oxen had to fetch
five wainloads from the forest and bring them to the ferry. He
had also to cart to the ferry the stakes and hurdles which had
been made in the forest; and furthermore, with one of his
fellows, he had to cart timber from the wood to the lord’s barn
whenever all his fellows were ordered so to do. 1 On the same
manor the smaller holders had only to carry wood when the
lord’s pinfold required repair, or a new pigsty had to be built. 2
Similarly on other manors: men were required to go to the wood
and haul out the timber and cart it to the lord’s manor house; or,
if the services w r ere not performed, to pay a wood-penny or
wood-silver. 3

But even these constant exactions did not wholly meet the
needs of the lord, and at harvest time he generally exacted more
service from the peasants. 4 The getting in of the crops was the
crucial operation of the year, and everything had to give way to
this—even the peasants’ own crops! Not content with this extra
work during the harvest months of August and September, the
lord usually claimed extra or “boon” services (precariae ) at this
period, and during the hay-making. These services were theo¬
retically given freely by the tenants for love of the lord (and are
sometimes called “love-boons”), but the freedom was more
theoretical than real. Often these “boons” required the pre¬
sence of the whole population of the manor—only the housewife
and sometimes the marriageable daughters were excused. 5 A
multiplicity of variations may be noted in the severity of the

1 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 61; cf. Ramsey Cart II, 37, 43.

2 Op. cit . 59.

8 D.S.P. 36, 63, 83, 85, etc.; cf. Neilson, Rents, 51, 53, 63.

4 Neilson, Ramsey , 39 if.

5 Vmogradoff, Villainage , 174, 175; Ramsey Cart 1, 394; Battle Oust. 59,
89.

BOON WORKS

in

demands that were made: sometimes the lord demanded help
only on every other day; sometimes only after the peasants had
got in their own hay; sometimes the head of the house went only
to the first boon, and so on i 1 but in general we may say confi¬
dently that these boons drew the majority of the able-bodied
folk of the village from looking after their own crops at a vital
time, and forced them to devote their attention to those of the
lord. 2 He usually provided good meals and drink in order to
help matters, but here again custom varied greatly. Generally,
however, there were a number of “ wet ” boons, and a number of
“dry” boons. At the “wet” boons, ale or cider, either in con¬
siderable quantities, or “at discretion”, was provided; at the
“dry” boons only water was given! The food was plentiful,
generally consisting of a dish of flesh or fish, pottage (of peas or
beans) with bread and cheese to conclude. 3 The Abbot of Battle’s
serfs, in order to placate them, had the right at the second and third
“boons” to bring a comrade to the supper where they were to
be, as they say, “solemniter depasti”. 4

Other “extras”, besides meals and drink, were at times pro¬
vided as an inducement. In connection with the boon services at
hay-making there was a widespread custom whereby the lord
released a sheep into the meadow. On some manors it became
the property of the serfs only if they could catch it before it
escaped out of the field ; 5 on other manors it was handed over to
them for their feast as part of their reward; while on others
again a definite money payment was made to them by the lord,
called medsipe or madsheep , 6 in lieu of the beast itself. As well as
this they were frequently allowed to take some of the hay for their
own use. On certain Ramsey manors the peasants were allowed to
carry home so much hay or straw as they can bind in a single bundle
and lift upon their sickle [or scythe] handle, so that the handle touch

1 Ramsey Cart. I, 49, 354; II, 6.

2 V.C.H. Beds , 11, 80; Glouc. Cart . in, 119, 170; Battle Cust. p. 59.

8 Univ. Lib. Camb. MSS. Kk. v, 29, ff. 29, 103, 104; Battle Cust. 87;
Court Rolls , 998/21,1030/3,1030/6; and cf. Glouc. and Ramsey Cart, passim .

4 Battle Cust. xxxix.

6 Ramsey Cart. 1, 298, 307, 476; Glouc. Cart, in, 64. Cf. Pembroke Survey ,
xcii; “ the ram was brought to the centre of the field; if it remained quietly
grazing then the customary tenants claimed it, but if it wandered out of the
field they lost it and the abbess had it restored to her”.

6 Univ. Lib. Camb. MSS. Kk. v, 29, f. 69; Eynsham Cart. 11, 24; Blom-
field, Norfolk , 1, 315; Cal . Inguis. 11, 313; Min. Accounts , 859/23, etc.

112

RENTS AND SERVICES

not the ground. And, if perchance the handle break, then he shall
lose his straw or grass, and be at the lord abbot's mercy, and pay a
fine, coming to the best accord that he can with the abbot. 1

Many other interesting variations might be quoted from the
Ramsey manors, as for instance the custom which allowed the
serf to take from the abbot's courtyard a bundle of as much
straw as he could carry, “but, if the band break before he has
passed through the yard door, he shall lose his straw, and com¬
pound by a fine as best he may ”. 2 In the West of England, on a
manor of the Abbot of Glastonbury, the size of the sheaf taken
by the peasant was measured in a strangely elaborate manner:

If any sheaf appears less than is right, it ought to be put in the
mud, and the hayward should grasp his own hair above his ear, and
the sheaf should be drawn midway through his arm; and if this
can be done without defiling his garments or his hair, then it is ad¬
judged to be less than is right; but otherwise it is judged sufficient. 3

On other mapors the serfs had the right to medkniche when they
mowed the lord’s meadow. This was as much hay as the hay-
ward could lift with his little finger as high as his knees. 4

Whatever else may be thought of conditions such as these, it is
obvious that work demanded in this fashion and at such frequent
intervals was often work grudgingly given, and often work badly
done. We have only to glance through manorial documents to see
that this was so. To take the first few pages of the Abbots
Langley rolls: men were fined for not coming to the harvest, or for
not producing a sufficient number of men; they came late, and
when they did come performed their work badly or in an idle
fashion. 5 Sometimes, not one, but a whole group of men failed to
appear and so left the lord’s crops ungarnered. 6 Others, even
when they came, made themselves very unpleasant; Hugh le
Waterleder, despite his name, cursed the lord’s servants when
they summoned him to carry water; 7 Roger Cook, when told to

x Rdmey Cart. I, 394; cf. 311, 324, 336, 399; Worcester Priory Reg. 146;
Camb. Antiq. Soc. Proc . xxvii, 165; Clone. Cart, in, 64,167, etc.; Glas. Rentalia ,
10, 14, 53, 65, 71, 85, etc.

2 Ramsey Cart, i, 415. For other interesting customs see I, 49.

8 Glas. Rentalia, 135; cf. 68. 4 Ibid . 85, 87, 88, 90, 91, 92.

5 Abbots Langley Rolls, ff. 1, 2, 3,4, 8, 9, 13, 14, 16 (all c. 1270). Cf. Hales
Rolls, 168; Tooting Bee Rolls , 236, 240, 241, 246, 249, etc.

6 Abbots Langley Rolls, ff. 20, 21, 34. Cf. Cal . Pat. Rolls (1299), 461;

V.C.H. Berks , n, 184. 7 Chester Rolls, 184.

EXCUSES FOR ABSENCE 113

carry wheat, at first would not come, and when he did, flung his
first load on the tithe heap, and his second on the ground, so
that all the sheaves were broken, and the carts had to pass over
them to get into the grange. 1 On the other hand, we read of a
lord who “wickedly slew William Bright with a dung fork, be¬
cause he found him idling in his service! ” 2 The mere enumeration
of these few incidents of the harvesting will doubtless be sufficient
to suggest to the reader the ever-present possibilities of drama
which were part of the life of the fields.

Little wonder that Walter of Henley again and again insists on
the necessity of watching over these workers:

Let the bailiff and the messor, be all the time with the ploughmen,
to see that they do their work well and thoroughly, and at the end of
the day see how much they have done... .And because customary
servants neglect their work it is necessary to guard against their
fraud; further, it is necessary that they are overseen often; and besides
the bailiff must oversee all, that they all work well, and if they do not
well, let them be reproved. 3

Such in brief were the various types of service which were
commonly demanded by lords throughout England. They ad¬
mitted of the utmost variation, and, no doubt, were enforced
with very various degrees of severity: but there they were, an
inseparable part of the peasant’s life, and one of the most
obvious signs of his serfdom. He could not avoid them; and
since, as we have seen, it was the custom to exact work through¬
out the year, it was necessary to make arrangements for sickness
or other causes of absence. This we find done in a variety of ways:
sickness was generally considered a sufficient cause for absence,
and a man was allowed a period of sick-leave varying on different
manors and at different times of the year. On one of the Ramsey
manors we find a man allowed three weeks’ absence most of the
year, but only fifteen days in autumn; 4 on others he can take a
year and a day before he need attend; 5 on others again he has a
year and a day but must plough. 6 On the manors of the Bishop
of Chichester something between a fortnight and a month was

1 V.C.H. Middlesex , ii, 85. 2 Cal. Inquis . Misc. 11, 8.

8 Op. cit. n; cf. 17, 21, 29, 33, 69, etc.

4 Op. cit. 1, 464; cf. Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 83.

5 Op. cit. 1, 312, 325.

6 Op. cit. I, 290, 300, 347, 370, 384, 395.

BL

8

RENTS AND SERVICES

114

allowed the sick man, “but no more even though he is (still)
sick!” 1 The test of sickness is sometimes stated: the man has to
be so ill that he is unable to leave his house, or he is confined to
his bed, 2 or even has to have the Sacrament before he can obtain
relief. 3 These wide limits are evidence enough that no very clear
rule can be laid down. Every manor had evolved its own custom
in this matter; but common sense had realised that some con¬
sideration must be shown to the sick, and the arrangements in
each manor were probably the result of common agreement be¬
tween lord and serfs, and but seldom the autocratic decision of
the lord. Hence, on the various manors of the Abbot of Ramsey,
for example, we find the variety of arrangements outlined above.

Other causes such as bad weather, or attendance at some court
in the lord’s interests, also exempted men from work at times;
but, in general, the custom seems to have operated more in
favour of the lord than of his serf. Often the work is only post¬
poned : he has to come at another time when summoned to do his
share in the ploughing or reaping. As the customal on a manor of
the Bishop of Winchester runs: “ If they (the serfs) be hindered
by rain, or in any other way, from doing their day’s work, they
shall come on the morrow; and if they be hindered on the morrow
also, they shall come the day following, and so from day to day
until they have fully completed one day’s work.” 4 It may be
that this severity is only due to the urgency of getting in the
crops, or of ensuring that the ploughing is done in good time, as
there seems little clear evidence as to how the ordinary week-
work at other times was regulated. On the whole it seems that
the lord was far less strict outside the harvest season, as we may
see by noting the general arrangements about attendance at
courts and on holy-days.

Attendance at court, whether it was the ordinary manorial
court or that of the sheriff, excused a man his day’s work; but if
the court day fell upon a holy-day some lords took advantage of the

1 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 15; cf. 17, 23, 35, 83, 108. Cf. also Camb. Antiq.
Soc. Proc. xxvii, 168 (15 days excused only), 171 (no excuse admitted).

2 Ramsey Cart . 1, 300, 457.

2 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 53, 61, 65, 108; Ramsey Cart. I, 477.

4 Reg. Pontissara , 659; cf. Ramsey Cart . 1, 46, 3x2, 346, 393; Battle Cust.
29, where carting in autumn is discussed. If three loads had been carried
before rain came on they could cease for the day: if less than three they were
forced to thresh, or perform any other work.

OBSERVANCE OF HOLY-DAYS 115

coincidence and made no allowance. 1 It was in the main to holy-
days that the serf had to look for any lightening of his burden, 2
and they are a real item to be reckoned with in our estimation
of the burdens laid on him.

The Church, from time to time, had laid down rules concerning
the due observance of holy-days, and these may be seen from a
passage of Piers Plowman :

holy churche hoteth alle manere puple
Under obedience to bee and buxum to the lawe...

Lewede men to labourie; and lordes to honte...

And vpon Sonedayes to cesse godes servyce to huyre,

Bothe matyns and messe and, after mete, in churches
To huyre here euesong every man ouhte.

Thus it by-longeth for lorde, for lered, and lewede,

Eche halyday to huyre hollyche the seruice,

Vigiles and fastyngdayes forthere-more to knowe,

And fulfille tho fastynges. 3

The man who tried to live up to such a standard would find
himself ceasing work on fifty or more holy-days in the year, and
certain modem writers have assumed that something like this did
actually happen. 4 Dr Cunningham nowhere commits himself to
a definite figure, but says that “the holidays were frequent ”,
and “must have made a difference to the wage-earner”, 5 while
Mr Denton calculates that a man in the fifteenth century could
reckon on being able to work only four and a half days a week. 6
They, however, are considering conditions in the late fourteenth
and fifteenth centuries, and are mainly concerned with wage-
earners. The position of such folk was controlled theoretically
by an enactment of 1403, which forbade labourers to work for

1 V.C.H. Hants , v, 414; Ramsey Cart . 1, 47, 464; Suff. Inst. Arch, xi,
2, etc.

2 V.C.H. Sussex , 11, 183.

8 C. x, 219 f.: “ Holy Church orders all kinds of people to be obedient and
to comply with the law. The uneducated have to work and the lords to hunt.
And on Sundays this should cease in order that they may hear God’s service:
both matins and mass, and after meat each man ought to hear evensong in the
church. And thus it behoves lords, as well as the learned and the ignorant, to
hear the whole of the service every holy day, and also to know the vigils and
days of fasting and to observe them.”

4 Evolution English Farm t 179, and 200, “ The festivals averaged nearly one
day a week.”

5 Growth of Industry , 390, 449.

• England in the Fifteenth Century , 219, 222.

8-2

ii6 RENTS AND SERVICES

hire on holy-days, or after noon on the vigils of holy-days. 1 The
serf, however, did not come under any such act, for his work was
not for hire but in return for his holding. The Church preached
what we have seen Langland advocating, but it was a counsel of
perfection, not one of common use. Even the ecclesiastical
authorities themselves did not expect such devotion (and neglect
of their own interests) from the peasant. Simon Meopham,
Archbishop of Canterbury, in prohibiting any servile work in¬
consistent with the devout celebration of Good Friday, adds:
“Nevertheless, we do not by this law mean to lay a burden
on the poor, nor put any obstacle in the way of the rich to prevent
them affording the customary assistance for charity’s sake to
help on the tillage of their poorer neighbours.” 2 The canon
lawyer Lyndwood in his gloss on this says that “the poor” are
“those who have not animals and beasts to plough with, and
who lack means to hire the assistance of others”, and goes on to
adopt the opinion of another canon lawyer, that though it would
not be lawful to plough a poor man’s holding on Sunday itself,
or on the greater feasts, nevertheless this is permissible on the
minor feasts wherever the relaxation is tolerated by the custom
of the country. 3

This is exactly the point of view expressed by the author of
Dives and Pauper, who tells us that on the lesser feasts needful
works like “erynge and sowyngc, repyng, mowynge, cartyng”
were not reckoned servile or a breach of the holy-day, if they
were done in a right spirit and not for avarice; but Sundays and
the great feasts must be observed more punctiliously; “suche
workes shudde natt be done but ful grete nede compelle men
thereto”. 4

Such, in brief, was the theory. What of the practice? A general
survey of the evidence available can only lead to one conclusion:
the law of the Church was violated on all sides, often by church¬
men themselves. On the Bishop of Chichester’s manors, for
example, the Sunday itself was used as a day on which to hold

1 Statutes of the Realm, 4 Henry IV, cap. 14.

* Lyndwood, Provinciale (Bk. 2, Tit. 3, De Feriis), 100.

3 Ibid. iox.

* Diyes and Pauper, 111, 7, 3, as quoted by B. L. Manning in his People's
Faith in the Time of Wyclif, 129. The whole of chapter IX of Mr Manning’s
book should be consulted on this subject.

OBSERVANCE OF HOLY-DAYS 117

the Manor Court; 1 to perform carrying duties; 2 to act as a letter
bearer 3 or to do any kind of work required ; 4 and similarly on two
at least of the Ramsey manors Sunday carrying might be
required. 5

As for holy-days other than Sundays, on a great many manors
the lord did not allow his serfs to take every holy-day off, as he
should have done by strict canon law, but allowed them only one
out of every two. 6 On some Ramsey manors they were given the
day’s holiday but had to make it up later on ; 7 while on others, no
allowance or excuse was contemplated, but the work went on,
holy-day notwithstanding. 8 This seems to have been the view
taken by Walter of Henley, for he reckons the lord can get forty-
four working weeks in the year after taking away 4 4 eight weeks
for holy-days and other hindrances”. 9 Thus after deducting
Sundays he only allows for four ££ other hindrances ” in the shape
of holy-days during the year!

It will be noticed that nearly all these examples are taken from
manors owned by churchmen, and we may fairly argue that con¬
ditions on lay manors were no better and probably a little worse.
We may, therefore, expect to find a widespread ignoring of holy-
days, and an examination of the manorial accounts proves that
this was so. The reeve, in making his annual reckoning, had to
account for all the works owed and how they were discharged;
and therefore his account generally included an item under the
heading of holy-days, noting how many such days occurred in
the year, and the number of works thereby excused. An exami¬
nation of a large number of such accounts shows no clear-cut
rule as to the observance of holy-days, but it does show clearly
that few or no lords tried to live up to the requirements of canon
law. In no instance has anything like fifty or more days’ work
relaxed been noticed: something between fifteen and twenty
would be a generous estimate of the number of holy-days the

1 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 15. 2 Ibid. 17, 34, 71

3 Ibid. 36. * Ibidm 37>

6 Ramsey Cart, i, 290, 310; cf. Eynsham Cart, n, 19.

6 Wore. Priory Reg. 33 b; D.S.P. 66; Rot. Hund. 11, 630 b; Ramsey Cart. I,
35°> 384, 398, 463* 486, 492; Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 15, 36, 42, 64 (but see
page 7 which says that in total only eight such days are to be allowed).

7 Ramsey Cart. 1, 302, 366.

8 Ibid. 1,369; Clutterbuck’s Hertford , 11, Appendix 10; in, 614; Comb. Antiq.

Soc. Proc . xxvii, 170. 9 Op. cit. 9; cf. Rogers, Wages, 1, 256.

1x8 RENTS AND SERVICES

serf could count on. 1 But any figure is liable to mislead: we are
only justified in asserting that there is no evidence to support
the belief that the canon law was observed with any degree of
strictness. In every diocese the practice varied to some extent,
and every local area, as Lyndwood himself recognised, had its
own peculiarities and time-hallowed practices “according to the
custom of the country”. 2

Apart from these allowances for various reasons, the peasant
got few chances of rest from his weekly labours on his lord’s
behalf. The only other relief he could expect was during the
holidays round about Christmas, Easter and Whitsun. 3 At these
festivals a brief respite was allowed him, sometimes amounting
to as much as fifteen days at Christmas. 4 Then the Yule celebra¬
tions, and perhaps a special feast at the manor house, made that
season a memorable one. An account of such feastings will be
found in a later chapter, 5 and here we need only note the occur¬
rence of these periods of rest in the otherwise unending toil
demanded of the peasant, both by his lord and by the land itself.

One further service remains to be described, namely service in
time of war. As we shall see, this only gradually came to concern
the serf, but little by little the King demanded larger and larger
armies and cast his net more widely, until in the end it caught
even the peasant within its meshes. Unlike other services, how¬
ever, this had nothing to do with his serfdom, so far as the King
was concerned (although undoubtedly lords used their power
over their serfs to compel them to serve), but was the result of the
growing demand for man power. It was so insistent that in time
the remotest village and its inhabitants were shaken from their
secluded life, and forced to take note of a much greater world.

For it must be remembered that to the majority of English
peasants their world was a veiy circumscribed affair. Their
village and the immediate surroundings were their all, and within
perhaps some fifteen or twenty miles of their cottages the great

1 This figure is the result of the examination of a large number of manorial
accounts before 1350, and is taken from different parts of England, both from
lay and ecclesiastical manors.

8 Lyndwood, op. cit. xoi.

8 D.S.P . xxvii; Cunningham, op. cit. 585; Hatfield's Survey, 17 2; Sussex
Arch. Soc. liii, 158; Levett, op. cit. 95.

4 Carnb. Antiq. Soc. Proc. xxvii, 165; Ramsey Cart. I, 344.

* See below, p. 263.

MILITARY SERVICE 119

unknown began—a world of which they knew next to nothing by
personal experience, and little more by repute. Yet from time to
time echoes of this greater world came to the peasant in his
fields: news of conflicts between great neighbouring lords, whom
he might, perchance, have seen spurring through the village
street, or riding upon the uplands hawk on wrist. At times news
of the King’s wars came to the village, brought by a passing
soldier en route for his home once more. War, however, for many
years after the Conquest, meant little or nothing to him: it was
true that in times of great stress he could be summoned to join
a mass levy, and then, armed with cudgel or knife, he formed
one of an ill-disciplined rabble, led by untrained and ill-prepared
leaders. It was such a body that was assembled to meet the
Scottish invaders, and which won the Battle of the Standard in
1138. Here, two wild undisciplined bodies of troops met and
fought out their quarrel more like wild beasts than soldiers.
Except for such very unusual emergencies, however, the peasant
knew little at first hand of war for some 150 years after the
Conquest.

The coming of the thirteenth century saw the beginning of a
change which was to have a marked influence on the peasant’s
life. From time to time the King had issued Assizes of Arms,
which laid down the various categories of men liable for military
service in certain circumstances. The first of these, the Assize of
1181, contemplated only the arming of freemen, 1 but in 1225, a
writ for the collection of a tax of a fifteenth mentions among those
to be exempted “quantum ad villanos armis ad quae jurati
sunt”. 2 From this it seems clear that villeins could be sworn to
arms, and this power is extended by a writ of 1242 enforcing the
Assize of Arms so that it includes not only citizens and burgesses,
but adds “libere tenentes, villanos et alios”, 3 from which it

1 Stubbs, Select Charters (8th ed.), 154. 2 Ibid. 356.

8 Lane. Lay Subsidies , I, 68, 69, and also a parallel writ for 1230. The date
given in Stubbs (p. 371) is 1252, but this is an error. (Lancashire and Cheshire
Rec. Soc.) The Rev. W. Hudson in his valuable and suggestive article on the
“ Norwich Militia in the XIVth Century ”, Norf. Arch, xiv, 263, interprets this
phrase to refer to such “villeins and others as held lands above a certa i n
value as sub-tenants (i.e. free tenants in villeinage)”, but Pollock and Mait¬
land, History English Law , i, 421 n. 4, accept the words at their face value to
mean “the villani if rich enough should be armed”. And see Cal. Inquis .
Misc . 1, 558, “as they were sworn to arms, both freemen and villeins”.

120

RENTS AND SERVICES

further appears that all villeins “secundum quantitatem terrarum
et catallorum suorum” were to bear arms. It was the force
assembled by these means to which Edward I appealed when
war broke out against the Welsh in 1276. The military resources
of the nation at that time have been admirably summarised by
Dr J. E. Morris in these words:

The arms were ready, and each man was equipped at his own
expense, the country bore the expense of mobilisation, and the crown
paid wages from the date of the outward march. In 1277 occasionally
the sheriff led his contingent to the war, but as the reign wore on the
King appointed special officers to take over the men from the sheriff.
Writs were issued authorising them to raise a specified number of
men; such writs became more common from the war of 1282 on¬
wards, and the system was in full force in 1294. The Commissioners
of Array, as they came to be called, were usually experienced officers,
and being often sent, war after war, to the same counties, they
doubtless knew the right men to choose. 1

Edward I soon learnt that the measures taken by his ancestors
were insufficient to provide the numbers of men which his
growing knowledge of the technique of war and of the im¬
portance of infantry saw to be necessary. The Statute of Win¬
chester in 1285 reorganised the military resources of the country,
and brought the vast mass of peasants definitely within reach of
the King’s Commissioners of Array. From this time onwards,
the continuous wars in France, Scotland and Wales became of
considerable moment to the serf; and, more and more, he found
himself caught up by great forces whose ultimate aims were far
beyond his comprehension, but whose immediate needs absorbed
him and his fellows in increasing numbers and threw them into
the wars. At first it was the peasantry of the Welsh marches,
together with the men of the neighbouring counties, who were
forced to march at the word of command; then the battles in
Scotland called for levies from all the counties north of the
Trent, and finally the wars of Edward III necessitated the raising
of promising recruits from the peasantry of all England.

How far this continuous demand was met by a willing response
it is not possible to decide, but, as we might expect, the balance
of evidence suggests that the Commissioners met with con¬
siderable difficulties in their recruiting marches. The peasant was
1 J. E. Morris, The Welsh Wars of Edward I, 92.

THE PEASANT AND WAR

121

untrained in war, and was slow to see that any advantage could
come from leaving his fields and going to an unknown country,
while travellers’ tales of the wild and barbarous Scots and Welsh
did not allay his fears. So the King was constantly calling for
fresh forces, and the Commissioners were hard pressed to find
even half or three-quarters of the men that were required.
Although the King paid them twopence or threepence a day (as
compared with a penny a day which was often given for hired
field work), and although they were seldom kept on active service
for more than three months at a time, the fear of the unknown
and the reluctance to leave their homes held most men from the
army, and it was only the more hardy and adventurous spirits who
came forward willingly. The Commissioners had to find men,
however, and were aided in their task by the Muster Rolls which
were compiled in each county. From these they were able to see
fairly exactly what men there were available for service in each
village and town throughout the realm, and from such drew their
levies. Thus from nine hundreds of the Rape of Hastings in 1335
there were returned the names of 751 men liable for service, and
from the existing Muster Roll we can see how these names were
arranged in military fashion in companies nominally 100 strong,
each company divided into groups or sections of twenty men.
The Commissioners drew from this Roll the 200 archers and the
200 armed men which they were ordered by King’s writ to raise
from the county. These lists, therefore, are of the greatest im¬
portance and interest, for not only do they show the number and
names of those available, but also they give us information about
their weapons, and we find these Sussex men were variously
armed—some with bows and arrows, others with knives and
cudgels, while others again are described as pikemen and billmen. 1

There can be little doubt that men bearing arms such as these
were of humble origin for the most part, and this view is sup¬
ported by the clearest evidence when we look at the manorial
records. For example, an entry in the Hales Court Rolls of 1295
shows that several suitors of the Court were elected to serve in
the King’s army in Wales, 2 or again from a document of 1307 we

1 Dawson, History of Hastings Castle , 1, 176; J. G. Nichols, Collectanea
Genealogical and Topographical , vn, 118. Cf. Norf. Arch xrv, 263; Heame,
Textus Roffensis (Oxford, 1720), 236.

2 Op. cit . 318; cf. 324, 329; cf. Select Coroner’s Rolls, p. 75.

122

RENTS AND SERVICES

see that the men of Pentirik, who were villeins, were bound to
follow their lord to war when called upon. 1 Again, in 1325, John
Beaucosin, the hayward of Littleport, was convicted by a jury in
the Bishop of Ely’s court of having taken a bribe of two shillings
from one of the lord’s villeins “by saying that he was elected to
serve the King in the parts of Scotland, and that for the said
sum he (John) would protect him against having to go there”. 2
Many other cases could be quoted to uphold the view that the
serf was never certain that it might not be his fate to go to the
wars, although like most others he had little desire so to do.

But someone had to go: the King’s needs were imperative, and
compulsion, whether to a greater or lesser degree, was applied.
In the first place it would have been very difficult for men to
withstand the pressure which their lord could bring to bear on
them if he so desired. We have seen how the custom of the manor
forced the men of Pentirik to march at their lord’s call, and, on
many other manors, although this duty may not have been so
clearly defined, it was doubtless operative. Smyth, in his Lives
of the Berkeley Family, notes that the personal retinue of Lord
Thomas Berkeley touched 200 foot archers, and adds, “at this
time it is collected by the Musters that each great captain had for
the most part their own tenants with themselves”. 3 Again, the
cry of the widows of Painswick in Gloucestershire is suggestive.
They beseech their lord, Sir John Talbot, to hear their cry, for
when “he had been beyond the sea in the King’s wars he had
sixteen men out of Painswick, of the which there were eleven
slain ”. 4 As a result “ since some of them were his bondmen they
had not only lost their husbands, but also their holdings”.

Apart from manorial compulsion there was always the possi¬
bility that the King’s officers might insist on exercising the great
powers which their Commission gave to them. It is true that on
many occasions the King ordered his officers to explain his needs
to possible recruits in the “ most loving and courteous manner ”, 5
and at times he even offered to grant foot soldiers “such gratuity
beyond their fixed wages when they come as shall content them
in reason”. 6 But behind all these fair words we constantly find

1 Ingots. Post Mortem, IV, 295. * Selden Soc. iv, 141.

* Op. cit. Ill, 32.

4 S. Rudder, History of Gloucestershire, 594; cf. History of Painswick, 100.

* Calendar of Close Rolls (1296-1302), 79. * Ibid. 373, 375.

RE PA TRIA VER UNT SINE LICENCIA 123

more peremptory language. The same year that Edward I
offered a gratuity to the men of Northumberland who would
join him at Berwick, he had also ordered his Commissioners in
several counties to select footmen and “ to bring to justice and to
punish as they think fit all those whom they find rebellious in this
business”; while another writ of the same year threatened re¬
calcitrant recruits with “seizure of their bodies and imprison¬
ment”. 1 The Commissioners were constantly ordered to select
the “most powerful and fencible” men; and, with such powers
at their back, and faced with the constant demands of their
master for fresh levies, it is easy to imagine what was the
position of the peasant.

But though the Commissioners or the lord might with some
difficulty make him march to the wars, it was quite another
matter to keep him there and to make him fight. Year after year
the issue of the writs of summons is followed a few months later
by another sheaf of writs ordering the sheriff to arrest and
punish deserters. A few days on the march, or a taste of fighting
seems to have satisfied the martial ardour of many of these
peasant recruits, and they took the first opportunity of deserting.
Thus we find a paymaster, in 1300, noting on his roll that certain
commanders of hundreds were in camp, but without any men
quia repatriaverunt sine licencia . 2 Even the device of giving the
men an instalment of their pay in advance failed to hold them,
for Edward I indignantly ordered his sheriffs to take action
against men who had received his pay, and yet “afterwards
returned home fraudulently with the money”.

The trouble did not end here, for the careful investigations of
Dr Morris have shown how little a medieval commander could
depend on keeping his force at the wars, even if they had been
got there by one means or another. His analysis of the pay-rolls
of the Scottish campaign of 1300 shows that although 16,000 men
were ordered to be at Carlisle on June 24, only some 3500 had
arrived by July 1, and that the most the Commissioners could
muster by the middle of the month was 7600. That was the crest
of the wave, and daily after that the force began to dribble away,
and by August little more than 3000 men remained with the

1 Calendar of Patent Rolls (1292-1301), 491, 512.

2 Morris, op. cit. 302.

RENTS AND SERVICES

124

King. 1 The rest had gone: some no doubt killed or taken away
wounded; some having served their time; but, for the most part,
these amateur soldiers had just faded away, and started on the
long trudge back to their more peaceful fields. From their seat
at the village ale-house we may well imagine them entertaining
their fellows with stories of their adventures: some of them,
perhaps like Langland’s man,

With a look like a lion and lordly in speaking;

The boldest of beggars; a boaster who has nothing;

A teller of tales in towns and in taverns;

He says what he never saw and swears to his honesty;

He devises deeds that were done by no man,

Or is the witness of his well doing, and will say sometimes:
“Look! If you believe me not, or think I lie basely,

Ask him or ask him, and he can tell you
What I suffered and saw.” 2

During the fourteenth century things became worse for the
villein. Edward III made many and imperative demands for his
services, going so far, at times, as to ask for the mustering of all
able-bodied men between the ages of sixteen and sixty. How¬
ever exaggerated we may estimate this to have been—a huge
demand in the hope of a moderate response—there can be
no doubt that the call for men must have affected every village
in England. As we have seen, the Statute of Winchester had
recognised the potentialities of a peasant force trained to arms,
and the next fifty years saw the peasantry of England becoming
more and more familiar with their weapons. The bowmen of
Cr6cy were the men who had trained on the village greens
throughout England, and side by side with them stood their
sturdy companions of field and plough, now, however, armed
with knife and cudgel.

It is at least doubtful whether these men were more willing
recruits than their brothers had been in the time of Edward I.
There are signs enough throughout the reign of Edward III that

1 Morris, op. cit. 301. Cf. the army at Berwick in 1298: “ 16,000 foot on
Feb. 9th; relays brought the figure up to 21,$00, but soon it dropped to
18,000 and to 15,000 again, and in March to 10,000 and 5,000.” Dr Morris
calculates that in all 21,500 foot were engaged, “and though that high total
was maintained only for a few days, 18,000 on an average served for over a
month, and 10,000 for six weeks”. Op. cit. 285-6.

2 Piers Plowman , B. xiu, 302-10.

COERCIVE METHODS

125

compulsion was constantly necessary. The King adopted an in¬
denture system, whereby men undertook to provide a certain
number of troops for a certain length of time, and such men were
probably mainly volunteers. But, apart from these, we find the
King ordering his officers to compel the men chosen by the
ordinary methods to come forward, and giving them powers to
punish the refractory and rebellious. Even so, he had the greatest
difficulty in getting enough men into the ranks, and had to issue
pardons to those criminals and outlaws who would come for¬
ward to serve him. We may well believe that the peasant was the
first to feel the pressure of all such coercive measures. Where other
men could buy themselves off with a bribe they had nothing
but the barest household goods or stock to offer, and little power
to withstand the officer who impressed them in place of a richer
faint-heart. Here, as in many another situation, the serf had to
suffer in silence, for he knew no one in the village sufficiently
learned and powerful to voice his wrongs.

Servile Burdens

CHAPTER VI

SERVILE BURDENS

B ut when the peasant had performed all the ploughings and
carryings demanded of him, and had sown and mown, and
threshed and garnered for the lord, he was still under many
obligations. His lack of freedom showed itself in a host of ways:
he could neither brew nor bake where he would; he was not
allowed to grind his own com, to sell his own beasts, to give his
own daughter in marriage, nor to do many other things without
his lord’s permission “prayed and obtained”. The lord’s power
was about him on all sides: not only did he fear the occasional
visit of the steward—armed with powers of life and death as it
seemed—or the more frequent visits of the itinerant bailiff, whose
authoritative commands every one learnt to respect, but he also
came under the supervision of the local village officials—reeve,
messor, beadle, etc. All these were constantly influencing his
actions, and to some extent infringing on his freedom. If we
look at some of the ways in which the peasants were controlled
we shall quickly realise why they sought so passionately and
constantly to buy their freedom.

Let us start with the village mill. We may safely assume that
every village (and almost every manor) had one or more mills
where all kinds of grain could be ground , 1 unless it were to the
lord’s interest to concentrate the grinding at one mill and thus to
save working costs. These mills were either the property of the
lord, or had been so at some earlier date, until he found it worth
his while to accept a yearly rent for them, either from an indi¬
vidual tenant, or less frequently from his men as a whole. Here,
as everywhere, we see the lord profiting from the needs of his

1 Both water-mills and windmills were to be found in medieval England.
The former were perhaps the more common throughout this period, for the
windmill was a comparatively late invention, and does not seem to have
appeared in Western Europe before the second half of the twelfth century.
Abbot Samson pulled down the molendinum ad ventum of poor deacon Herbert
in 1191, according to Jocelyn de Brakelond, and this is one of the earliest
records of a windmill (if not the earliest) known in England. {J. of Brakelond,
ed. Sir E. Clarke, 1907, P- 75 *)

BL

9

SERVILE BURDENS

130

manorial dependents: he seizes upon the fact that men must
grind their corn in order to make bread, and so he insists on it
being ground (at a price) at his mill.

The mill, therefore, became a valuable part of his income, and
is frequently mentioned as a separate (and considerable) item
when the value of a manor is being assessed. When, for example,
in 1185, the Templars made a survey of all their lands in England,
one of the seven headings of their enquiry concerned their mills,
for, as the editor of the volume says:

These small and numerous manorial com mills, mainly worked by
water power, were not the least valuable part of the Templars’
property. They ground the corn of a fairly extensive district and of a
considerable population, and their close concentration in the hands of
the lords of the manor, on demesne, shows that the Templars early
appreciated the financial importance of seigneurial monopolies. 1

Miss Lees is here actually referring only to the Essex properties
of the Templars, but her remarks are a fair comment on their
whole policy, and indeed on that of all medieval lords who had
mills on their manors.

Since the mill was of such financial importance it was necessary
for the lord to see that its business was ample and that it was not
threatened by any rivals. This was achieved mainly by an in¬
sistence that the unfree must bring their corn to the manorial
mill to be ground. This duty is constantly expressly stated, and as
constantly the Court Rolls show men being fined for attempting
to avoid their obligations. Thus the men on the Ramsey manors
of Broughton, Wardeboys, Caldecot, Woodhurst and Waldhurst
are all forced to bring their corn to Broughton 2 where the Abbot
has a mill; or, as is said on another manor of this Abbey: “All the
tenants owe suit to the mill, whereunto they shall send their
corn.... If any tenant be convicted of having failed to render suit
to the lord’s mill, he shall give,sixpence before judgment; or, if
he have gone to judgment [i.e. if the matter has come before the
Manor Court], he shall give twelvepence.” 3

1 Templars Records , lxxix. For comparative value of mill and total value
of manor, see Wore. Priory Reg . xiv; Yorks Inquis. 1, 2x3, 222, 245; and
Savine, English Monasteries on the Eve of the Dissolution , 126ft.

2 Ramsey Cart. 1, 333. Cf. Wore. Priory Reg. 32, where three vills have to
mill at Bradewas.

8 Ibid, x, 473. Cf. 1, 302; Durham Halmote Rolls , 33, 40, 160, 184.

THE MANORIAL MILL

*31

Despite all manorial injunctions men were constantly failing
to bring their com to the lord’s mill, and in due time found
themselves accused in the Manor Court. Here they usually re¬
ceived short shrift, and were fined, sometimes for grinding at
another’s mill, sometimes for grinding at home with a small
hand-mill. 1 Men tried to avoid this liability, at times successfully,
by pleading that they held the lord’s license to grind wheresoever
they liked, but this was not a privilege freely given. 2 At Hales, for
example, on one occasion when the services of three applicants
were relaxed, on payment of a fine, the lord insisted on their
rendering suit of mill. 3 If men were caught on the way to a rival
mill, the custom of the manor was often such that, if the offence
was other than the first, the lord was entitled to seize the man’s
horse, while his miller took whatever com or flour the wretched
man was carrying. 4 The validity of such a custom seems to have
been recognised in an action before the itinerant justices at
Cirencester in 1302. Here the plaintiff admitted he was en route
to another mill and off the manor when his horse and com were
confiscated by the Abbot—who kept the horse and passed on
the com to his miller. The plaintiff bases his claim only on
the fact that the seizure took place off the manor, and does not
dispute the recognised custom of seizure itself. 5

Some lords recognised that often it was not wantonness but
necessity that made men go elsewhere. They would arrive at the
mill, only to find the miller overwhelmed with work, or with his
mill out of repair, or his head of water weak, or the wind feeble
and variable. With the best will in the world (and the miller was
notoriously not overburdened with goodwill) much of the com
must wait many days before it could be ground. But at home the
family could not wait, and so, perforce, the peasant went to the
next mill or ground furtively at home with a hand-mill. Condi¬
tions similar to these are sometimes provided for, as on the
Ramsey manor, where,

if they (the peasants) cannot on the first day grind the whole of the
com, the mill must grind as much as may keep their household in

1 Hales Rolls , 118, 119, 136, 138, 152 etc.; Court Rolls , 176/130, and see
below.

2 Hales Rolls , 364, 366. 8 Ibid. 325 J Abbots Langley Rolls , 44, 45.

4 Bennett and Elton, Hist. Com Milling , hi, 220; rv, 66; Wore. Priory Reg.
Win 6 Y.B. Ed. II (R.S.).

i 3 2 SERVILE BURDENS

bread for that day; and if the peasant cannot grind there that dav
then he may take his com elsewhere at his will.... From August i till
Michaelmas each man may grind where he will, if he be unable to
grind at my lord’s mill on the day whereon he has sent the com.
Moreover, if it chance that my lord’s mill be broken or his milldani
burst, so that the tenant cannot grind there, then, as in the former case
he may take it elsewhere at his will. 1 ’

The greatest difficulty that faced the lord, however, was howto
deal with the secret milling that went on in the peasant’s own
home. The hand-mill (or quern) was an object of the greatest
antiquity, and its working was extremely simple and was known
to all. One of these small machines set up in the house, if it re¬
mained undiscovered, could cope with the limited amount of
grain many holdings provided. Hence they were a great tempta¬
tion to the poor man and were in common use. The lord tried to
prevent this, and wherever possible fined those found in pos¬
session of hand-mills. The Court Rolls are full of such matters:
“It is presented that A.B. does not mill at his lord’s mill, and
further that he has a hand-mill at home. It is ordered that the
mill be seized, and he is fined 6 d .” 3 At the next Court he still has
the mill, but is made to come before the Court and find pledges
not to use it in future, and it is to be taken from him. 3 An in¬
teresting case at Cirencester, in 1300, shows us the seizure being
made. The bailiff of the Abbot was accused of entering several
houses, and of seizing the millstones and taking them to the
Abbey. The bailiff admitted that as bailiff of the manor he had
gone to certain men’s houses with a white rod in his hand, in the
name of his bailiwick as was the custom, and had ordered the
nuisance to be abated. When the men had utterly refused to
obey, he had gone again at the Abbot’s command and removed
the stones. The justices upheld the Abbot’s right, and it cost the
men of Cirencester the large sum of 100 marks to make their
peace with him. A side-note in the cartulary states that the
Abbot could seize the mills, but ought not to destroy them. 4 It
will, perhaps, be remembered that in the famous quarrel be-

1 Ramsey Cart. 1, 473. Cf. 11, 3x3, where if a mill is out of action for two
days serfs may go elsewhere.

8 Abbots Langley Bolls, 20; Wakefield Rolls , 11, 8, 164; Selden Soc. 11, 47;
iv, 123; Page, op. cit. 47 n. 2.

8 Abbots Langley Rolls , 21 v.

4 Bristol and Gloucester Arch. Soc. DC, 315.

MULTURE

133

tween the monks of St Albans and their tenants (graphically
retold in Froude’s Short Studies , “Annals of an English Abbey”),
when the Abbot had successfully carried off the hand-mills, he
used the stones from them to pave the floor of his private parlour. 1 2

The lord took his profit in kind from all those coming to the
mills. Every one had to contribute a certain proportion of his
grain which was known as “multure”. No clear figure can be
given to express this proportion: it varied very considerably, and
the Statuta Pistorum 2 (thirteenth century) assessed it at the
twentieth or twenty-fourth part of the grain, but the details given
in accounts and other documents show it to have averaged some¬
thing more like a sixteenth part. 3 Now it must be remembered
that the price of corn varied very considerably during these cen¬
turies, so that the value of this multure also varied very con¬
siderably. The serf, therefore, was not charged a fixed price for
the mill's service, but found himself forced to yield up something
considerably more precious in times of shortage than after a good
harvest. Hence, no doubt, many of the charges of extortion so
commonly levelled against the miller. Added to this was the
galling knowledge that the lord paid no multure, neither did the
parish priest, despite their comparative wealth. 4 Then again, the
amount of multure taken varied as between free men and serfs:
on Durham manors we find the free paying only one twenty-
fourth, while the serf gave one thirteenth 5 —all incidents em¬
phasising the differences between class and class, and inevitably
leading to friction and bad blood.

The mill standing by the river bank was fed by water diverted
along a watercourse and into a mill-pond. This was banked up
with clay and turves, and the water was regulated by flood gates,
and by sluices which allowed the miller to control his head of
water. A very full account of the structure of the medieval
Welsh mill may well serve to describe the innumerable water¬
mills throughout England at this period.

1 Gesta Abbatum (R.S.), 1, 4ioff; 11, 149#.

2 Statutes of the Realm, 1, 202-3.

3 Guisborough Cart. 1, 278; Whitby Cart. 11, 367, 370; Yorks Inquis. 1, 76;
Chimb, and West. Arch. Soc. Trans. 1, 282; Mamecestre, 315; Cust. Rents ,
98.

4 Mon. Exon. 256; Glouc. Cart, m, 180, 193, 197.

6 Durham Halmote Rolls , 134, 135- Cf. Med. Village , 57 n.i.

i 3 4 SERVILE BURDENS

The outer wheel consisted of a central oaken beam, into which was
secured a double set of spokes or “arms”, joined by “curves”
strengthened by iron bands and stays to form a large double wheel!
Between the outer rims, a series of trough-like “ladeles” were
arranged to catch the current of the water. The axle extended into the
mill, and on its other extremity was built an inner single wheel, also
made of wood and banded. The inner wheel was cogged, the “ cogges ”
secured by “ keys ”, setting in motion a third small cogged wheel. This
in turn, was fitted on to an elevated and vertical spindle, itself re¬
volving and with its lower extremity resting on a cup of brass. The
opposite and squared end of the spindle passed into the upper storey
of the mill, through the middle of a stationary millstone lying in its
bed on the upper floor. Upon the squared end of the spindle an iron
“trendel” or driver was fixed which clutched the iron stay or “rind”
firmly secured across the perforated centre of the upper and moving
millstone. This movable stone, thus balanced upon the spindle,
could be adjusted by lowering or raising the spindle from below, and
it could be made to revolve at a minute distance from the nether and
fixed stone. The corn was then passed from the container, held on a
framework, through the hole in the centre of the upper stone. The
flow was regulated by a small mechanical contrivance, the “ hopper”,
vibrated by means of a “ jack ” worked from below by the “ rind ” and
spindle. The revolution of the stone forced out the meal, which was
directed by the close-fitting framework to the spout where it was
ejected into the holder. The full weight of the upper stone upon the
spindle and the continual friction naturally proved a severe test for
the soft iron of which the latter was made, and for the brass pivot at its
base. Hence the very frequent references in medieval accounts to
expenses incurred in “lengthening” and repairing the “neck” of the
spindle and recasting the brass, both very expensive items. The
purchase and haulage of the millstones were also costly and, probably
on account of their poor quality, they required to be renewed
periodically. 1

The upkeep of the structure of the mill and its accessories was
an expensive business, and in general was a charge on the lord.
In making over a mill to the canons of St Agatha in 1190, Sir
Gerald de Mansfield grants them also the right of taking stones
for its repair wherever they may be found on his land, 2 and a
little later another deed ensures the monks of Haughmond a little
copse for wood, and resources for the repair of the mill-pool. 3

1 W. Rees, South Wales and the March , p. 137.

2 Com Milling, nr, 51.

8 Eyton, Antiq. of Shrops. vi, 54; and see X, 102; Glas. Rentalia , 87 (mill
rented at 16s. but lord does the repairs); Ramsey Cart . in, 217.

THE MANORIAL OVEN

135

The actual work when repairs were necessary was laid upon the
serfs. They carried wood to the mill, or cleaned out and repaired
the sluices, or helped in re-thatching: in short were called on for
all the semi-skilled and unskilled labour required. Loss of time
meant loss of money to the lord, and thus the tenants of the
Bishop of Durham were fined for not coming in good time to
help repair a broken mill bank. 1

Lastly, a few words must be said about the miller himself. 1
“What is the boldest thing in the world?” asks the medieval
riddle. “A miller’s shirt, for it clasps a thief by the throat daily”,
is the answer, and serves to indicate the unenviable reputation of
the miller during this period. The Coventry Leet Book, 2 and the
Red Paper Book of Colchester 3 (both fifteenth-century docu¬
ments it is true), tell us by inference of some of his tricks, in their
injunctions forbidding the miller to water or change com sent to
him, and give worse for the better. Nor shall he keep hogs, nor
more than three hens and a cock, and especially are gluttonous
geese to be banished from his premises. But no great time need
be spent on this matter, for Chaucer has dealt so faithfully with
the Miller in the Canterbury Tales that, to use his own phrase,
“there is namor to seyn”. 4

Just as the peasant was not allowed to grind his com wherever
he thought best, so he was forbidden to bake his bread at home or
anywhere, save in a special oven constructed for the purpose, and
belonging to the lord. Of course, it is clear that very many
peasants had not the means of baking at home: the construction
of an oven was a semi-skilled affair, and many houses could not
have included one in their flimsy structures without grave risks
and great difficulty. So the lord’s oven must not be looked upon
solely as a seigneurial oppression. Undoubtedly it provided a cer¬
tain income for the lord, often at no trouble to himself, for he
generally rented it to an individual or to the peasants as a body,
and, save for repairs from time to time, had no further concern
in the matter. Still, so long as the baker did not exact too large a
fee for his work, the village oven or bakehouse was a communal
convenience.

1 Durham Halmote Rolls , 30, and cf. 39, 87, 103; Ramsey Cart, in, 243.

2 Cov. Leet Book (E.E.T.S.), n, 397.

8 Benham, RedPaper Book 9 18., 4 C.T . Prologue and A. 3120 ff.

136 SERVILE BURDENS

The communal oven, however, never seems to have been so
widespread in England as in France, and we have no very clear
details as to its administration. We have a number of entries
showing that it was often a valuable asset to the lord: sometimes
in granting a charter to a vill the lord will forgo his rights of oven,
but this is not invariable, and is in itself an indication of the
value of such rights. 1 Again, we can find information respecting
its hire to individuals, or to the members of the village as a body. 2
As we saw when considering the mill, the repairs were charge¬
able to the lord or to the tenant, according to the arrangement
made at the time of drawing up the lease. And again, men are
fined for not baking at the oven, and so on. 3 But we have no
information of the detailed working of the system, of the method
of payment, of the ease with which one could make use of the
oven, of the way in which all those wishing to bake were dealt
with, etc. As with many other of the commonest activities of the
peasant’s life, the very frequency and “ matter of factness” of the
operations have been our undoing. The medieval mind thought
them not worth recording.

Nevertheless the widespread activities of the village bakers are
vouched for by the way in which the name occurs everywhere
under different forms. In a Worcester Subsidy roll, for example,
we find the following names all denoting the presence of the
baker: Bakare, Bachessor, Bagster, Baxter; Bollinger, Bullinger,
Ballinger, Bellinger; Furnur’, Furner, Fumagc, Fernier; Pain,
Pannier, Pottinger; Pistor, Pestour, Pastelcr; Rybbare; Wastel,
Wytbred; le Ovane, atte Novene. 4

What we have lost because of the commonplace nature of the
baker’s activities may be seen by looking at an entry concerning
the village oven printed by Maitland in a volume entitled The
Court Baron . In this volume there occurs a detailed account of
how to hold a court and pleas, in which the writer takes one by
one the common types of offences the steward may have to deal
with in holding the Manor Court, and sets out an imaginary case
of each. Naturally only the most frequent causes of litigation are

1 Ballard, Brit. Borough Charters (1042*-!216), p. 1 .

2 Selden Soc. n, 25; Mamecestre> 315; Tatenhill, II, 6, 12; Kettering
Comp. 1 2.

8 Tatenhill, n, 62; A.A.S.R. xxxm, 330 ff.

* Wore. Hist. Soc., Lay Subsidy Roll, 1 Ed. Ill, p. x.

OTHER FORMS OF OPPRESSION 137

mentioned, and among these is the oven. The trouble which
might arise over this is thus stated:

It fell out that on Monday next after S. Andrew that M. wife of the
hayward and E. wife of a neighbour were baking at an oven, to wit
that of N., and a dispute arose between them about the loss of a loaf
taken from the oven, and the said old crones took to their fists and
each other’s hair and raised the hue; and their husbands hearing this
ran up and made a great rout. Therefore by award of the court the
said women who made the rout and raised the hue are in mercy.
And so on with other cases as they arise . 1

Both mill and oven, then, were common sights in the medieval
village and we may perhaps sum up this section of our enquiry
with Champion’s verdict:

What rendered these monopolies so odious was not so much the
fixed tariff or the prohibition against crushing one’s own grain with a
hand-mill or between two stones, and baking this meal at home, as the
compulsion to carry the com for long distances, over abominable
roads, and then waiting two or even three days at the door of a mill
where the pool had run dry; or, again, of accepting ill-ground meal,
burned or half-baked bread, and of enduring all sorts of tricks and
vexations from the millers or bakers . 2

Let us turn from these obligations of mill and oven to other
forms of oppression. In doing so we shall necessarily ignore a
number of burdens, similar to those already described, which
weighed upon the peasant. As we have already noted he could
not indulge in many of the most common actions without first
obtaining his lord’s leave, and this was usually given only as the
result of a money payment. The fish in the rivers and the game in
the woods were not at his disposal; the doves, which ravaged his
crops and lived safely in the great dovecot at the manor house,
were things he might not touch. On all sides he saw rude plenty
—yet on all sides the lord’s No was generally overwhelming.
It required famine or undue oppression to cause the ordinary
peasant to cry out with John Ball, “We are men formed in
Christ’s likeness, and they treat us like beasts,”

1 Selden Soc. iv, 73.

2 Champion, La France d'aprhs les cakiers de 1789, 139, 142, quoted by
Coulton, Med. Village , 58.

SERVILE BURDENS

138

Not only did the peasant find his freedom to use the things he
saw about him sadly circumscribed by the power of the lord, but
he also found himself controlled in many other ways. He was
subjected to a series of money payments, all of which emphasised
his servile condition. Rent he paid, as did the freeman, and
services he rendered in addition, as we have seen, but still more
was demanded of him. He was forced to make payments from
time to time to meet divers demands of his lord, and these were
often of an uncertain nature, or came at times of stress. Of these
the most onerous -were tallage and heriot, and each of them
deserves some detailed consideration.

Tallage is defined by Vinogradoff as “a rent on the border¬
line between personal subjection and political subordination”, 1
and by the thirteenth century it had come to be looked upon as
one of the tokens of serfdom. And this was not an unreasonable
view, for the right of one man to exact from another whatever
sum he thought desirable, and to do this at uncertain intervals,
certainly established an a priori case of complete subjection. It
had its justification in the theory slowly formulated by the law that
the serf’s all belonged to his lord, and therefore the lord could
take what was his own when and to what extent it seemed best to
him. Thus in the stricter customals w r e constantly read that the
amount of tallage was fixed ad voluntatem domini, and the serfs
had no redress if one, two or more calls were made on them, even
in the same year. On the other hand, the serfs steadily worked to
obtain some certainty in these things; and, from the twelfth
century onward, we find the lord’s rights modified and controlled.
The peasants got the principle established of a yearly tallage ad
voluntatem domini quolibet anno, or of tallage “according to the
custom of the manor”. Little by little the principle was estab¬
lished that both the amount and also the frequency of the charge
became matters of certainty. Once this was achieved it was easy
to regard tallage as an additional rent charge merely, and once its
uncertainty was removed there was nothing in such a payment
which marked it out specifically as a servile burden.

But this was a state of affairs won only after much travail.
“Tallage at will”, with all the uncertainty it entailed, became

1 Villainage, 162.

“TALLAGE AT WILL” 139

one of the lawyer’s tests of servitude. 1 The canonists also took
this view. Dr Coulton writes:

Let us begin with an extract which has almost the value of a direct
generalization. Richard Middleton (or de Media Villa) was an English
Franciscan who became Professor of Divinity at Paris about 1285,
and is reckoned among the masters of Duns Scotus. In the 27th
question of his third quodlibet he discusses the question whether
subjects are morally bound to obey a lord who imposes tallages which
are justified neither by custom nor by public utility:

“ I answer, that these subjects are either serfs [servi] or free. If they
be serfs, I say that they are bound to pay the tallages newly imposed
upon them, even though these tend to the profit of their lords alone;
for serfs and their possessions are the property of their lords.... [In
the case of freemen], if those tallages be in no way to the profit of the
co mm unity, then I say that neither king nor prince can impose such
tallages upon his free subjects. And the reason here is, that the
possessions of free subjects are not the property of their lords.”

When a doctor of this kind can thus decide against the moral right
of the serf to resist new and arbitrary taxation, it is more significant
even than the complaints of his fellow-moralists that the lords and
their bailiffs commonly oppress the poor. 2

There can be no doubt that “tallage at will” was oppressive,
and was thought to be oppressive by the peasants. In 1299, the
serfs of the monks of Dunstable, for example, asserted that “they
would rather go down to hell than be beaten in this matter of
tallage”, and after much controversy they finally bought their
freedom from this tax by the huge fine of £6o. 3 This strong ex¬
pression of opinion by the men of Dunstable was echoed by
many other serfs, and we constantly meet with evidence showing
how the lords were “destroying the peasants by exactions and
tallages ”, or that they were “exacting tallage from them by force
and oppression, some years taking 100 shillings, some years not”. 4
The Ministers’ Accounts show us in detail what was happening.
For example, at Halvergate, in Norfolk, the tallage varied from
£10 to £12 from one year to the next; then it rose to £13, and the
following year was down to £8, where it remained for the next

1 Rot. Hund. 11, 530, 619, 623, 642,etc.; Wore. Priory Reg. 15a, 43 b, 56a,

etc. For an important discussion of “ uncertainty ” and tallage, see VinogradofFs
article, Econ.Joum . x, 311-15. _ ^ .

2 Med. Village , 482. 3 Arm. Dunst. (R.S.), 122.

4 B.N.B. Nos. 485, 574, 691; cf. Bensington , 24; Cal. Inq. Misc . 1, 100

(No. 290).

SERVILE BURDENS

140

ten years. 1 Again, on a neighbouring manor, after being sta¬
tionary at £8 for years, it suddenly rose to £12 . 2 Fluctuations
such as these were hard to bear, and probably the cause of much
bitterness on the manor, for it must be remembered that the
serf had no understanding of why these sums were wrung out of
him. The lord’s needs may have been real or only fanciful: the
peasant was but dimly aware that for some reason or other this
year (possibly most inconveniently for him) he had to pay more
tallage than usual.

Hence we should expect to find men endeavouring to fix the
sum, and thus it is that the customals begin to state that the
amount is fixed and may not be increased or diminished, 3 and
the Ministers’ Accounts show manors on which the tallage
exacted remains constant over a long period of years. 4 We get a
little further light from a Yorkshire inquisition of 1250 which
states that “the tallage set in Newland, Kirkedrux, and Lan-
gerak is £xo, to which all must give whose names arc placed on
the roll after those who only pay rent”. 5 Clearly here the fixed
amount had to be found by the peasants of the vills, possibly in
proportion to their holdings, while those who paid rent—that is
the freeholders—were quit of this tax. No doubt many won¬
dered why the freeholders went quit while they were forced to
pay, and a desire to be free as were these men undoubtedly rose
in many breasts.

Although at first sight it would seem that a fixed tallage was
much to be preferred to one which varied from year to year (and
so undoubtedly it was for the majority), yet even a fixed tallage
had its dangers, for its inelasticity made no allowance for bad
seasons or for altering conditions in the neighbourhood. Whether
all the holdings, or only half of them, were occupied, the full sum
had to be found and this naturally created hardships. We have an
excellent example of this in thirteenth-century Yorkshire. The
men of Hedon, a jury of 1280 tells us, were “straitened and
poor”, and the inquisition asserted plainly that unless some
change were soon made, men would move away “on account of

1 Min . Acc. 936/4-16. Cf, 756/3-10.

2 Ibid. 936/18-32. Cf. Davenport, op. tit . 46; Villainage , 293.

* A.A.S.R. xxxv, 7.

4 See, for example, Min. Acc . 918/2- ; 987/15- ; 1004/1- .

5 Yorks Inquis. i, 127.

FIXED TALLAGE

141

the yearly tallage and go to the good near-by towns of Raven-
sered and Hull, which have good harbours growing daily, and no
tallage”. 1 Here we see a fixed sum being exacted, despite the
fact that towns like Hull, with great attractions to the serf, were
growing up and daily recruiting in part from dissatisfied men,
such as heavily tallaged Hedon could provide. Later on we shall
see how these burdens drove men to consider how they could
end such conditions.

Fixed or “at will”, tallage was an important item in the
manorial income and had to be forthcoming. It was usually
exacted at Michaelmas, 2 sometimes from each individual, but
often assessed on the vill or manor as a whole. 3 The Gloucester
Cartulary gives us a great deal of information about the way in
which the tax was assessed. The serf pays “each according to
his land and the number of his animals”, and these animals all
have their value; 4 or sometimes he is assessed on the number of
acres he holds, 5 or again the serfs are assessed “in communi”, 6
and probably left to work out the individual payments for
themselves.

Yet whatever method of collection was in force, tallage re¬
mained a hated sign of inferiority, and men tried to get rid of it
in the only way possible to them. They “bought their blood”
free of this, as they had to do of other servile incidents, and found
it to their advantage to commute the payment for an added general
charge on each holding. 7 Although this made little or no dif¬
ference to their annual outgoings to the lord (assuming the
tallage to be steady) yet it meant that henceforth it formed but
one item in the rents of assize 8 —that lump sum each man paid
to his lord, and which hid within itself who knows what of ancient
rents, charges, personal fines and dues. Once the serf had seen

1 Yorks Inquis. I, 216.

2 Eynsham Cart. 11, 7; Glouc. Cart . ill, 88, 100, 103, 119, 121, etc., where
it is called “the aid of St Michael”; Wore. Priory Reg. xcviii n. 12 a, 93a,
104 a.

8 Davenport, op. cit . 46.

* Glouc. Cart, in, 50, 53, 57, 180, 188, 206, etc. Cf. Ramsey Cart. 11, 52.

5 Glouc. Cart, hi, 100, no, 121, 129, etc.

6 Ibid, in, 97, 191; Eynsham Cart. 11, 129.

7 E.g. Wore. Priory Reg. 19 a, 61 b, 66 b, etc.

8 For a discussion of the nature of redditus assiza see Levett, Econ. Hist,
Rev . 1, 70-5, and Page, Crowland Estates , 91-9.

SERVILE BURDENS

142

the hated tallage swallowed up in this annual fixed charge he
could breathe the more easily, for another obvious sign of his
servitude had dropped away from him.

We may, perhaps, note here a special tallage that was at times
raised as part of the incoming—the joyeux avenement — of the
new lord. It was a custom particularly associated with eccle¬
siastical manors: at Wynslowe 20 marks were exacted, 1 at Otter-
ton 10 marks, 2 at Tooting 4 marks, 3 and on the manors of the
monks of Worcester, and the Bishop of Chichester the sum is not
stated, 4 but on one Worcester manor it is said to be “ secundum
quod ratio exigat”. 5 The Prior of Norwich, in 1471, had only
86 tenants at Martham but they had to pay .£20 on his incoming,
and the same sum was exacted in 1504 on the election of another
prior.

So far the actual account-rolls testify; but, on looking at Dugdale’s
Monasticon we find that three other priors have come between, in
1480,1489 and 1504. If the rolls for these years existed and had been
searched, it is practically certain that they would show us similar
entries, and leave us to conclude that the Martham tenants had paid
this tax five times in a single generation, at whatsoever irregular
intervals it had pleased Providence to remove their former prior. 6

The forced hospitality exacted from the manorial population
(the gite, so common in France) seems to have been rare in
England. Vinogradoff quotes one example only, and gives no
other references. His one case dates from the mid-thirteenth
century and concerns the tenants of the Abbot of Osulveston in
Donington and Byker, who were

bound to receive their lord during one night and one day when he
comes to hold his court at their place. They find the necessary food
for him and for his men, provender for his horses, and so forth. If the
abbot does not come in person, the homage may settle about a commu¬
tation of the duties with the steward or the sergeant sent for the
purpose. If he refuses to take money, they must bring everything in
kind. 7

1 U.L.C. Wynslowe Rolls f $6b. a Mon. Exon, 254 a.

8 Tooting Bee Rolls , 248. 4 Cal. Inquis. Misc , 1, 64.

5 Wore. Priory Reg . cxvi n., 638 a.

* Med. Village , 197. The years 1489, 1504 are corrected from those in

Dugdale by the recent work of H. W. Saunders, An Intro . to the Rolls of

Norwich Cathedral Priory, p. 190.

7 Villainage , 303.

FORCED HOSPITALITY 143

A remnant of this forced hospitality is seen on some manors at the
coming of the steward to hold the Manor Court. The serfs of the
Prior of Durham had to provide the steward’s servants with beds,
and were constantly failing to do so, and being admonished. 1 If
house-room and beds were not required on a Sussex manor, then
counterpanes and sheeting had to be sent for use at the manor
house. 2 The Hundred Rolls, again, contain some evidence on
this point. Food was requisitioned by officials—bailiffs, foresters,
constables—as they rode from place to place on business. They
demanded hay and corn, poultry “at the will of the giver”,
bread and beer—or in their place a money payment, and most of
this came from the peasantry. 3 All this, however, is as nothing
compared with the elaborate provisions made in continental
customals for the annual entertainment of the lord, or even for
such of his friends as he cared to send in his place. 4 In this, as in
many other ways, the comparatively peaceful and settled state of
England throughout the later Middle Ages made conditions so
much more possible for the serf. His lord did not consistently
wring the utmost out of him, in the fear that to-morrow he might
be displaced by another—either by the fortune of war or by the
loss of his protector’s favour. Harsh as some of these exactions
seem to us, they inevitably flowed from the feudal lawyer’s theory
that in strictness all the serf possessed was his lord’s, and their
harshness seems less outrageous when compared with the ruth¬
less provisions of many continental customals. 5

The lord’s claims on his serf were not confined to the exaction
of rents and services during life. Even after the peasant’s death,
the lord still had a claim on his property which was known as a
heriot, and the Church had also another, known as a mortuary.
The first of these was claimed by the lord of the manor on the
death of one of his tenants. It arose from an old custom, whereby
all—both free and bond—were bound to make a return on death
of the hergeat , or war-gear, with which the lord had originally
supplied them. This war-gear—consisting of horse, harness and

1 Durham Halmote Rolls , i, 72, 101, 125, 140, 144, 146; Sussex Rec. Soc.
xxxi, 53.

2 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 53.

3 Rot . Hund. ii, 31, 40, 307. Cf. Oust . Rents , 148.

4 S6e, op. cit. 362.

5 See Med . Village , passim.

SERVILE BURDENS

144

weapons—in strict theory remained the property of the lord, and
it was but right that he should resume possession on his man’s
death. In the course of time, however, the conditions which had
obtained earlier were seriously modified: a great number of free¬
men had managed to shake off this obligation, and were no
longer either equipped by their lord, or liable to pay a heriot on
their death. The serf, however, was not so fortunate. While he
was liable to give military service only on infrequent occasions
and in a very limited way, in theory he was still held to receive
his hergeat ; and, therefore, on his death, was forced to pay a
heriot which generally took the form of his best beast or chattel. 1
As Pollock and Maitland say:

In this case the term “heriot” m\ist in the eyes of the etymologist
be inappropriate. We may guess that in the heriot of the later middle
ages no less than four ancient elements have met: (1) the warrior who
has received arms from his lord should on his death return them;
(2) the peasant who has received the stock on his farm from his lord
should return it, and if his representatives are allowed to keep it, they
must recognLse the lord’s right to the whole by yielding up one article,
and that the best; (3) all the chattels of a serf belong in strictness of
law to his lord, and the lord takes the best of them to manifest his
right; (4) in the infancy of testamentary power it has been prudent, if
not necessary, that the would-be testator, however high his rank,
should purchase from the king or some other lord that favour and
warranty without which his bequests will hardly “ stand But at any
rate in the course of time the heriot is separated from the relief.* 2

Side by side with this claim went one made by the Church
called a mortuary. This was exacted by reason of the convenient
theory that during his lifetime a man would be unlikely to pay in
full all his tithes and other charges due to the Church, and there¬
fore it was necessary for the Church to make a final claim in
exacting a mortuary. This was taken after the lord had first
chosen the best beast or chattel as his heriot, and the Church had
second choice. 3 Canon Law endeavoured to define what had

1 See e.g. Glouc , Cart. m, 43, 46, 59, 87, 17a, 204, 211; Sussex Rec. Soc.
xxx, 90,98, 102, 110. In the Wore . Priory Reg. 102 we find the vtrgatcr has to
give three heriots: a horse, its harness, and two oxen. The military has com¬
pletely given place to the agricultural claim.

2 Hist. Eng. Lazo, 1, 317.

3 See this fully set out, for example, in Oliver’s Mon. Exon . 2546 (Otterton),
where it is declared to be an obligation on free or serf. See also Glouc . Cart .
m, 130, 170, 172.

HERIOT

145

originally been no more than a custom (though custom, so long
as it is laudable, acquires the force of law to the canonists), and
forbade the taking of a mortuary unless there were at least three
beasts. 1 This, however, was rigorous enough, since after the lord
had taken one, and the Church taken another, the widow or heir
was often left with a solitary remainder. It is also to be re¬
membered that often the manor was the property of the monks
or of some cleric, so that they were certain of their heriot in any
case! 2

So far the theory. In practice we find a diversity of customs, as
we should expect; but, what is important to note, we find very
frequently that a good deal more than the best beast or the best
chattel is demanded. In some cases the heriot is as much as one-
third of a man’s total assets. In 1300 a Yorkshire free man holding
four bovates of the Prior of St John of Jerusalem has to give one-
third part of all his goods at his death, 3 4 and the accounts of
Tatenhill about 1380 return the sum of £1. 7 s. 11 \d., “being the
third part which belongs to the Lord” of the man’s assets of
£4. 35. 11 A rental of the same manor, dated 1414, shows even
harsher customs. The lord was entitled to the best animal, and
also to all copper vessels, carts and iron-bound wagons, hives,
colts, oxen, porkers, whole sides of bacon, all woollen cloth if
uncut and any treasure the man might have ! 5 We may see from
entries in the accounts of the previous century that this was no
mere theory, but that such customs had actually been enforced.
For example, in March 1347, on the death of a serf, the lord
seized his horse, cart, sheep, and two pigs worth twelve shillings.
The widow was allowed to buy them back for this sum, and given
till August to find the cash. 6

An extreme but illuminating case is that of the monks of Vale

1 See Coulton, Ten Medieval Studies , 126 for a full discussion, with
references to the Canon lawyers.

2 Glouc , Cart . hi, 88, 138,159,170, 182; Bristol and Glouc. Arch. Soc. ix,

304.

8 Yorks Inquis. iv, 10.

4 Tatenhill , II, 56; cf. Trigg Minor , ni, 47 where it is declared that the

lord is entitled to all the cattle of serfs, but only to the best of those of the
free men.

6 Tatenhill , II, 97; cf. Blount, Tenures , 45; Vinogradoff, Villainage, 160.

8 Tatenhill , 11, 34; cf. 58 where horse, two pigs and household pots and
jars are seized to the value of 11s. 6 d.

146 SERVILE BURDENS

Royal, where both heriot and mortuary were exacted with the
utmost rigour. The customal runs:

When any one of them [the bondmen] dieth, the lord shall have all
the pigs of the deceased, all his goats, all his mares at grass, and his
horse also, if he had one for his personal use (d habuerit domesticum ),
all his bees, all his bacon-pigs (bacones integras), all his cloth of wool
and flax, and whatever can be found of gold and silver. The lord shall
also have all his brass pots or pot, if he have one, because at their
death the lord ought to have all things of metal. Abbot John
granted them in full court that these metal goods should be divided
equally between the lord and the wife on the death of every one of
them, but on condition that they should buy themselves brass pots.

Also the lord shall have the best ox for a “hereghett” and holy
church another. The lord shall choose the best ox by his bailiffs,
before the “hereghett” be given to the church. 1

The customal then goes on to discuss how the rest of the pro¬
perty is to be divided between the lord and the family, and it is
clear that the widow and her children are left to begin anew with
something over half their possessions taken from them.

One or two more examples will emphasise the severity with
which this exaction weighed on the poor. The Bishop of
Rochester as lord of the manor of Hcdcnham was entitled to his
serf’s best chattel, and if he had but one horse, the customal de¬
clared that it ought to be sold, and thirty pence given to the
lord and the balance to the widow! 2 Or again, in 1345, at Bar-
chester, the lord claimed an ox worth 8$. and a cow worth 5$. as
a heriot. It was found that after this the widow could not take
her husband’s holding on account of her poverty, and the reeve
was ordered to take the land and house into the hands of the
lord. 3 * * * * 8

Not all lords were so merciless. On the Ely manor of Mel¬
bourne if the serf had no beast then no heriot was claimed, and

1 Vale Royal , 118. Dr Coulton (Med* Village , 175) writes: **1 have not
met with any lay manor in England or France on which the death-dues even

approach these in severity.”

6 Oust. Roff , 11. Thirty pence, or thirty-two pence, seems to have been

reckoned as a suitable sum in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. See

e.g. Blount, Tenures , 382; Comb. Antiq. Soc . Proc. xxvn, 164; Ramsey Cart .

1, 416; Page, Crowland , 116; Wore . Priory Reg . xlii, etc. Cf. Cast. Rents , 89

and references given there.

8 W. Kennett, Paroch. Antiq . n, 85.

ST HUGH AND HERIOT 147

this was so on the manor of Bernehorn, belonging to the monks
of Battle. 1 The charity of St Hugh of Lincoln became a matter of
legend, and Giraldus Cambrensis tells of how he exercised it in
this very matter on one occasion at least:

Hugh had such bowels of pity, and was so utterly uncovetous of
earthly things, that when his servants had carried off the ox of a
certain dead peasant of his lordship (as the dead man’s best possession
which the custom of the land gave to the lord), and the widow had
come forthwith to the bishop, beseeching with tears that he should
order the restoration of that ox, which alone was left to her for the
sustentation of the miserable and orphaned family, then he granted
her request. Hereupon the steward of this manor said unto him:
“My lord, if you remit this and other similar lawful perquisites, you
will never be able to keep your land.” But Hugh, hearing this, leapt
straight down from his horse to the ground, which in that spot was
deep in mire; and, grasping both hands full of earth, he said: “Now
I hold my land, and none the less do I remit to this poor woman her
ox.” Then, casting away the mire and looking upwards, he added:
“For I seek not to cling to earth beneath but to heaven above. This
woman had but two workfellows; death hath robbed her of the better
and shall we rob her of the other? God forbid that we should be so
covetous; for she doth more deserve our consolation in this moment of
supreme affliction, than that we should vex her further.” 2

St Hugh’s attitude was not generally shared, however. It will
have been noticed that his own steward strongly disapproved of
it, and Giraldus recounts the story as an example of the Saint’s
exceptional charity. Few lords were content to forego their
heriots, as any series of accounts or court rolls will show. They
formed an important item in the income year by year flowing
into the lord’s hands from his villeins.

Not only the serf’s stock and household goods were subjected
to a fine; but his land also, since in theory it belonged to his lord,
was occasion for a payment whenever it changed hands through
-death or other cause. As we have seen this paymentwas not strictly
a heriot, but medieval scribes (and often medieval lawyers) were
not very certain of the exact meaning of the terms they used, and
gradually the payment was called a heriot.

1 Wore. Priory Reg . xlii; Battle Oust . 32.

2 Opera (R.S.), vn, 96. For a layman’s remission of heriot in perpetuity,
see Terrier of Fleet, ed. N. Neilson, p. 18.

10-2

SERVILE BURDENS

148

We may see how the confusion arose from the Hales court
rolls. There in general we read that a heriot was paid, some time
in the shape of an ox, or a cow, or sheaves of corn, sometimes in
the form of a sum of money; and, on that being completed,
and not till then, the new tenant was allowed to take up the
holding. At other times, however, not only has the scribe re¬
corded a payment of the heriot, but also of a fine or “relief” for
entry on the holding. Thus in 1278 a son presented nomine
herietipatris two oxen worth twenty shillings, a male horse worth
half a mark (3s. 4 d.) and two hogs worth two shillings. As well
as this, he paid two and a half marks for being allowed to take
over the holding. 1 From this it was an easy step to lump the two
things—heriot and relief—together, and to regard the whole
thing as a single transaction.

This became even more natural when the whole transaction
was entirely expressed in money terms, and no animal or chattel,
but only its monetary value, was mentioned. Thus, on the
Ramsey manors, the virgater constantly paid five shillings for his
heriot, and lesser holders paid smaller sums; 2 and on other
manors the heriot was always valued in money. 3 Heriot, or relief,
or fine on entry—whatever it was called—it seemed all the same
to the man who had to pay; and the scribe, unless unusually
intelligent, saw in the whole business only the passing of the
holding from one serf to another, for which his lord naturally
received a money payment.

The confusion surrounding the word was carried one stage
further when the fine paid on the surrender of a holding from
one man to another also began to be called a heriot. From the
lord’s point of view, whether the surrender was caused by death,
or by a man’s desire to acquire or relinquish his land, made little
difference. The lord was entitled to his fee—the best animal or its
value. Thus at Hales, in 1277, when a man surrendered his land
into the hands of the lord he had also to pay a heriot of eight
shillings. 4 Again, on the manors of the monks of Crowland, the
custom was clearly established whereby “every holder of a terra

1 Op, cit.104, and cf. 215, where the terms herietis and relevio are used to
describe a similar transaction,

* Cart. 1, 3°i, 3°3, 304, 337, 347, 359, 37©, 384, 395-

3 E.g. Wakefield and Ingoldmells Rolls , passim .

4 Op . cit . 79.

HERIOT PROBLEMS

149

natwa, , shall owe the lord on his outgoing his best animal as
heriot ”, and later it was declared that if he had no animal he was
to pay 2 s. 6 d. “in the money of the King of England, by way of
heriot”. 1

The tangled process which we have been trying to unravel is a
reminder to us of the variety and confusion lurking everywhere
in medieval terms. Even the lawyers cannot lay down a clear
definition of heriot, but have to admit of exceptions and un¬
certainties. Britton tells us that they are generally paid by serfs
rather than free men, 2 while Glanvill, on the other hand, tells us
that it is the free man who ought to recognise his lord by leaving
him the best thing he has. 3 Bracton, on the whole, agrees with
Glanvill; but adds that local customs vary, and says that heriot
comes to the lord by grace rather than by right. 4 When we look
at the Court Rolls we see what a deal of variation can exist
beneath the common formula of the extent: “and on his death
he owes his best beast or chattel as a heriot”. On the Tooting
Bee manor, for example, the heriot is not forthcoming because
the land is held conjointly with another; 5 because it is held for a
period of years; 6 because only a part of the holding is sur¬
rendered; 7 because there is no tenement on the holding 8 —in
short, there seem to be innumerable ways whereby custom has
altered and deflected the straightforward operation of the old
law.

Furthermore, innumerable questions arose which had to be
settled by the decision of the suitors of the manorial court. The
Hales tenants had to deliberate as to whether a heriot was due from
a married woman; 9 or whether a man fortunate enough to own
a male horse was entitled to keep it, or must pay it as heriot on his
wife’s death. 10 If a man holds two tenements does he pay one or
two heriots? The Hales custom demands one, so does that of
Crowland, but the manors of the Bishop of Hereford 11 and those
of the monks of Ramsey 12 have customs which demand a heriot
for each messuage or toft, or each virgate of the holding.

I Page, Crowland Estates, 115,116. 2 Britton, 11, 51.

3 Glanvill, vn, 5. 4 Bracton, ff. 60, 86; cf. Fleta, 212.

6 Op, dt. 16, 172, 184, 186. 6 Op. dt, 28; cf. Hales Rolls, zSi, 285.

7 Op. dt. 108, 146; cf. Hales Rolls, 260. 8 Op. dt. 198.

9 Op. dt. hi, 58. 10 Op . dt. 1, 298.

II E.H.R. April 1928. 12 Ramsey Cart. 1, 37a.

SERVILE BURDENS

150

Everywhere we turn we find local custom interpreting the way
in which heriot is to be claimed. Sometimes, as at Vale Royal, it
presses with intolerable harshness on the peasant: at other times,
as at Melbourne, it is merciful and humane. But, looked at
generally, it must be said that it was a heavy burden, and was the
more grievous since it could but aggravate the keen sense of loss
which the household had already sustained by the death of the
head of the house. We must not easily allow ourselves to believe
that “the power of the lord” was not a very real thing. True, in
some fortunate manors it was softened and controlled to some
extent by the “custom of the manor”, but even so it remained a
powerful force which could exhibit itself in such ways as this—
ways repugnant, not only to our modern ideas, but, as we have
seen, to such men as St Hugh, or to a moralist such as Jacques de
Vitry, who characterised the lords who took heriots as “vultures
that prey upon death—or more loathsome still, as worms
feeding upon the corpse”.

Manorial Administration

CHAPTER VII

MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

F rom what has already been said about the rents and services
which the lord demanded from the peasants it will be
obvious that some organisation was required by which to
collect these rents from time to time, and to arrange for the
punctual and efficient rendering of the various services. Not only
this: the lord had also to make provision for the farming of his
own part of the manor—the demesne lands as they were called,
on which, as we have seen, the unfree peasants laboured through¬
out the year. A large part—sometimes the whole—of a lord's
livelihood came from these sources, and it was of vital conse¬
quence to him to arrange for their efficient exploitation.

When the lord himself resided in the manor house and could
supervise the work of his men, it was, no doubt, a comparatively
simple matter for him to see that his lands and stock were
properly kept, and that everyone who owed him rent or service
paid it whenever it was due. But for many lords the problem
was not so simple. They frequently held more than one manor—
sometimes they held many—and these might be scattered over a
county, or perhaps over half England. Even had they no other
affairs, it would have been wellnigh impossible for them to have
overseen the whole of their manors efficiently; but, in many
cases, they were busy servants of the King, or great soldiers
engaged on foreign wars and crusades, or merely idle men of
fashion who followed the Court and despised the country boors
and the life of the fields, save as necessary adjuncts to the
delights of the chase. For very different reasons the great
ecclesiastical landowners, such as Cathedral chapters or the
innumerable religious houses of monks and nuns, were equally
unable to supervise their many manors. It was impossible for
these people to be absent long from their homes, and here again,
they had to employ others to look after their interests. Hence we
find that a widespread system sprang up, whereby manors were
controlled by paid agents of the lord, and a whole hierarchy of
officials and minor servants was created.

iS4 MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

In order to aid them in their work it was necessary for the
lord to give the chief officials the clearest account possible of
what were the lands and people they had to control, and what
things they might expect from the manorial population, in
money, in service and in kind. Two main classes of documents
gave them this information: the rentals or extents, and the
customals. The rental or extent set out in the greatest detail
exactly what was to be demanded of even,’ single landholder on
the manor. It first dealt with the freeholders, and this was a
comparatively brief matter, for once their rent was paid little but
an occasional service, such as attendance at the Manor Court on
special occasions, or coming to oversee the workers during harvest
was expected of them. The unfree, however, were another matter:
they had to render numerous rents and services, and often every
detail of what was to be demanded of them was set out in the
minutest fashion. And it did not follow that because one man
did certain things his fellow would do likewise. Further, as we
have seen, there were many groups in the manorial society, and
the services of each of these groups demanded its own space in
the extent. Once he had got this, however, the official knew
what he might legitimately demand from everyone who held
land of his lord.

We have already noted the way in which the customal came
into being. It embodied the many by-laws, as we may call them,
which had gradually been evolved, and which, henceforth, re¬
presented “the custom of the manor”. Both official and serf
knew full well what these customs were, and after he had grasped
what were a man’s services as laid down in the extent, the wise
official was careful to see how far (if at all) it was modified by
anything laid down in the customal before he took any action.

Our information concerning the manorial organisation comes
from these two primary sources and also from the detailed
accounts which the manorial officials were required to make
yearly, and also from the Manor Court proceedings about which
much will be said later. 1 In addition to this, we have a number of

1 These detailed accounts or compoti are classed in the Public Record
Office as Ministers' Accounts, i.e. accounts rendered by an official appointed
to minister affairs on the lord’s behalf. They are discussed in detail below on
pp. x86ff. The Manor Court and its proceedings are dealt with in chapter vih,
pp. 195 ff.

MANORIAL TREATISES 155

books of estate management which were written down in the late
thirteenth century, such as Fleta , Walter of Henley and others.
It is necessary, however, to add a word of caution at the outset
concerning the use of these works. Leopold Delisle noted the
wealth of early handbooks on estate management which have
survived in England, and he lamented that no such records
survived in France. But they have not been an unmixed blessing.

Many students of manorial documents written in the late
thirteenth and fourteenth centuries will have noticed how diffi¬
cult it is to find in Court Rolls or in Ministers’ Accounts many
examples which will bear out the statements of these contem¬
porary manuals of estate management. Walter of Henley or Fleta
can tell us with a wealth of confident detail the exact duties of, say,
the sergeant (serviens), the bailiff and the reeve. The sergeant,
they say, does this and this; the bailiff may do that and that;
while the reeve is restricted to exercising his authority here and
here. The documents, however, tell us quite another story, and
show us the sergeant usurping the duties of bailiff or of reeve;
and worse still, the underlings daring to act in ways in which only
their superiors should do. The question at once arises: Which
are we to accept as giving the more trustworthy witness—the
treatises or the various types of manorial records? The question
would seem to be easily answered a priori in favour of the docu¬
ments, were it not for the fact that the influence of the treatises on
modem scholars has been so great that almost all accounts of the
working of the medieval manor are based on some such con¬
dition of affairs as is set forth in the pages of Fleta , etc. And
this, no doubt, is the inevitable evolution of the study of these
intricate matters: first, attention is paid to the general theory
and contemporary exposition, and only later comes scrutiny of
the minutiae.

Thus the late Dr Cunningham writes:

The bailiff was appointed by the lord to look after the whole estate
in detail; he was directly responsible to the lord for everything con¬
nected with the prosperity of the estate, and had to account in great
detail for everything under his charge... .The (reeve) seems to have
been the official representative of the villeins, who was responsible
for them. 1

1 Walter of Henley , Intro, xii, xiii.

156 manorial administration

This view also seems to be accepted by Vinogradoff, who lends
his great authority to the statement that “ on every single manor
we find two persons of authority—the bailiff or beadle...an
officer appointed by the lord... .By his side appears the reeve,
nominated from among the peasants of a particular township
and mostly chosen by them.” 1 2 The statements of both of these
authorities seem to be amply justified by reference to the
treatises only, but there is surely much value in Sir William
Ashley’s caution:

It may be doubted whether the description in Fkta actually cor¬
responded with the general practice—whether there were in fact both
reeve and bailiff on every manor. It is more likely that was a lawyer’s
generalisation, never really true, or that, if it ever had been true, it was
already, by the time that book was written, ceasing to he so. 3

Any careful study of manorial documents will show that the
contemporary scribes who compiled the accounts and the Court
Rolls could not differentiate clearly between the various manorial
officers. Bailiff, bedell, reeve, sergeant—these titles are bandied
about in a way which indicates how hazy the writer himself was
of their precise meaning. A man is called Alan the reeve in one
entry and in the next is given the title of sergeant: Ilenry the
bailiff becomes the bedell lower on the .same roll, and so on,
though few scribes, it is to be hoped, were so muddled as the
one who bracketed comprehensively the reeves, ale-tasters and
foresters elected at the Hales Manor Court, and promoted them
all by calling them bailiffs ( battivi)?

The truth is that the documents and treatises are comple¬
mentary, but, even so, they require to be used with the greatest
caution before any valid generalisations can be made. Two con¬
siderations at least must always be borne in mind: first, that the
widest variations of procedure and customary use were possible
on manors only a few miles apart, and therefore we cannot
accept any clear-cut system such as that shown in Fleta\ and,
secondly, that the lax use of terms by the medieval scribe, as

1 Villainage, 318*

2 Economic History , 1, 12.

8 Hales Rolls, 430, 460, Cf. Durham Habnote Rolls, 46, 47; Davenport,
op. cit. 50 n. 4; Wakefield Rolls, 111, viii, etc.

THE LORD’S OFFICIALS

*57

illustrated above, makes it necessary for us to examine what the
various manorial officers are actually found to do before we can
accept the titles indiscriminately conferred on them by the
writers of the documents.

So much it was necessary to say, for it is the overwhelming
influence exerted by Fleta and other treatises which has con¬
fused our knowledge of the actual working arrangements of a
medieval manor, giving us a Utopian rather than a real version.
On some manors, doubtless, there was a hierarchy of servants
such as is there laid down, but in very many manors a more
primitive organisation sufficed, and about this Fleta and Walter
of Henley are silent. We must bear in mind, therefore, that the
full-scale organisation which must now be discussed was the ex¬
ception rather than the rule, and yet it was sufficiently prevalent
to make it important for us to understand its working, since it
undoubtedly controlled the lives of tens of thousands of men
centuries ago.

Let us consider this organisation at its fullest—say that re¬
quired by a Bishop or one of the great nobles to administer his
estates. The personnel may be divided into two groups: one, the
administrators whose primary duty it was to see that every part
of their lord’s property was used to the best advantage. Secondly,
there was a select band of manual workers, such as ploughmen,
carters, shepherds, etc., whose activities were vital to the well¬
being of the manor. The higher ranks of the administrators were
all free men, while those in the lower ranks, as well as the manual
workers, were drawn from the lord’s serfs. All these men came
into contact with the ordinary peasant from time to time, and
their various activities were of great importance to the everyday
lives of the villagers.

At the head of the lord’s officials stood the seneschal or steward.
To the peasant he must oftentimes have seemed as all-powerful
as the lord himself, and indeed he was frequently a man of rank
and standing. The stewards of the manors of the Abbey of
Ramsey may serve as examples. “About 1160 the steward was
the brother of the abbot... .About 1188 Sir Joscelin of Stukeley
was steward.... It is possible that he is the man of that name
who is mentioned as the sheriff of Cambridgeshire about that
time. Sir Joscelin’s office of steward descended to his son Sir

158 manorial administration

Walter, etc”. 1 We may judge of his position by noting his
emoluments as compared with those of the reeve—another
manorial official: the steward of Berkhamsted in 1300 re¬
ceived a yearly fee of £15. 65. Sd. and two robes with fur, as well
as hay, litter, and firewood at all his lord’s manors, with an
additional 6s. 8 d. for returning the King’s writs. The reeve, on
the other hand, got five shillings a year only and an allowance of
four shillings for his food in the busy autumn harvesting season. 2
The steward’s duties, however, were commensurate with his
rewards: he was the voice and executive of the lord on the
manors. To him was committed the management of the agri¬
cultural exploitation of the land; he appeared from time to time
to preside over the Manor Courts and to hold the view of frank¬
pledge. Every year he summoned before him those underlings
whom he had charged with the day by day conduct of the manor,
and extracted from them, in the presence of the auditors, a de¬
tailed account. He enquired into the use made of every animal
on the estate, and the produce resulting therefrom down to the
last egg, the results of the year’s harvests, the amounts received
in rents and fines and in every other way from the tenants, and
generally conducted so searching an examination as must have
terrified many of the humble rustics forced to account before him. 3

The thirteenth-century manuals indulge in a wealth of detail.
Fleta demands a paragon of virtues:

Let the Lord then procure a Seneschal; a man circumspect and
faithful, discreet and gracious, humble and chaste and peaceful and
modest, learned in the laws and customs of his province and of the
duties of a Seneschal; one who will devote himself to guard his Lord’s
rights in all matter, and who knoweth how to teach and instruct his
master’s under-bailiffs in their doubts and their errors; merciful to
the poor, turning aside from the path of justice neither for prayers nor
for bribes. 4

To such a man he would confide the cares of the lord’s manors—
and they are many. The seneschal must know the size and needs

1 Ault, Private Jurisdiction, 145. See also Cal. Inquis. Misc. 1, 512, no.
1880, for details of the Hastings family, hereditary stewards of the liberty of
St Edmunds.

3 Inquis . Post Mortem , Ed. I, m, 443.

3 For a full account of this, see below, p. 189.

* Fleta, 159; cf. Walter of Henley, 84.

THE STEWARD

159

of every manor; how many acres should be ploughed and how
much seed will be needed. He must know all his bailiffs and
reeves, how they conduct the lord’s business and how they treat
the peasants. He must know exactly how many halfpenny loaves
can be made from a quarter of com, or how many cattle each
pasture should support. He must for ever be on the alert lest
any of the lord’s franchises lapse or are usurped by others. He
must think of his lord’s needs, both of money and of kind, and
see that they are constantly supplied. In short, he must be as
all-knowing as he is all-powerful.

The picture is doubtless an ideal one, but the happy preserva¬
tion of one thirteenth-century steward’s letters is proof that it
was not absolutely untme to actual life. Every steward on taking
office swore to preserve his master’s interests to the utmost of
his ability, and this correspondence certainly shows that at
least one steward tried to live up to his oath. 1 Simon of Senlis
was his name, and he was steward to the Bishop of Chichester
during the second quarter of the thirteenth century. His letters
show him to be in correspondence with his master on every kind
of business. A handful of examples must suffice: he urges the
Bishop to take immediate action against an encroaching neigh¬
bour; discusses the advisability of “farming-out” a church, and
hints that the price asked is too high; complains of the high¬
handed action of the bailiffs of the Earl of Arundel; warns his
master that the Precentor of Wells intends him some evil;
prompts him how to make a hard bargain with a lady whose
property is in question; reports the result of a conference at
which he has succeeded in getting a rent due from the Bishop
reduced. He shows another side of his character when he ad¬
vises the Bishop to offer hospitality to his Archbishop who is
spending a night on one of his Sussex manors, “for”, he says,
“ he will provide for himself out of his own means, and wishes to
accept nothing from you.. .wherefore, if you please, I will pay
attention to him so that it shall turn to your advantage and
honour”. Crops, buildings, mortgages, provisions, the weather
—all are discussed in turn. One letter shows him vigorously

1 For this oath, see Reg. Pontissara, 1, 261-2, and for commission given to a
steward with jurisdiction over all manors, and a statement of his powers, see
Lit. Cant . 1, 284.

160 MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

carrying on assarting and ploughing; building a new ox-shed one
hundred feet long; or buying the crops standing on a neigh¬
bouring manor. He foresees every need of his master, and lays
in lamb’s fur for the winter, and 300 ells of cloth from Winchester
fair for his poor pensioners; provides plenty of malt for brewing
when required; sees that there is ample provision of wood for
burning, brewing and baking at the Bishop’s London house;
gets a new wind-mill fitted up in time for the busy autumn
season: these and innumerable other details seem to cause him
no difficulty whatsoever and are all in the day’s work. He has a
good eye for business: the price of live stock at West of England
fairs is no mystery to him; he arranges for the purchase of iron
and its transport to Gloucester, and then afterwards for its sub¬
sequent carriage across England to Winchester at the least ex¬
pense; he refrains from selling the Bishop’s wine at Chichester
because there is too much cheap wine on the market; and he
suggests to the Bishop that he should think of getting his sheep
from the abbey of Valle Dei (Vaudey) in Yorkshire, and of
sending them down to his Sussex manors. His knowledge of men
seems equally comprehensive. He reports to his master with
obvious first-hand information on the notorious vicar of Munde-
ham who has two wives, or of one of his agents who has become
lukewarm in his service. He tells him of th efrater from Vaudey
who is so excellent with the sheep, and of the serviens of one of
the manors whom he wishes to promote. He well may write at
the end of the harvest, with some complacency: “ Know that the
crops on your manors are safely gathered, and are in the bams,
and that all your other affairs go on well.” How could they do
otherwise with such a steward to direct them? 1

Not all stewards were so attentive or so successful, no doubt,
and even this indefatigable servant failed to mention one most
important duty which devolved on him, namely the holding of
the Manor Courts. The steward was the dispenser of justice and
presided over the court in the place of his lord. We may easily
imagine how important he seemed to the peasant as he saw him
ride up to the manor house overnight, with his servants behind
him, and, closely following him, his clerk who carried in his
saddle-bags the precious Court Rolls on which were written
1 For all the above, see Sussex Arch. Soc. in, 35-76.

THE STEWARD’S COMING

161

many things the peasant would gladly have had forgotten. Every
leaf of the parchment roll was covered with entries which con¬
cerned him and his fellows, and the clerk and his master, the
steward, seemed to have every detail of them at their finger-ends.

So he watched as the little cortege rode past him up to the great
house, which had been cleaned and prepared for the steward’s
coming by one of the female serfs, who did this and gathered
bundles of rushes to strew in the rooms as part of her services,
as on a manor of the Bishop of Chichester. 1 There he and his
servants would spend the night, sometimes at the cost of the lord,
sometimes at that of the peasants. The customals give us a few
details of the latter practice. On a Lincoln manor, for example, the
villagers have to find all sufficient necessaries for one entire day and
the following night—food, drink, hay, fodder—everything, down
to the candles that flickered over the last potations, is mentioned. 2
At Amberley, in Sussex, the tenants had to provide counterpanes
and sheeting for guests at the hall, but if guests were quartered
out in their houses in the vill, then only house room and beds
(hospicium et lectum) and no more might be required. 3 When
things were not going well between the lord or the steward and
the peasantry these obligations seemed particularly onerous, and
on the manors of the Prior of Durham the serfs showed great un¬
willingness to provide beds for the steward’s servants as custom
demanded, 4 and could not be found when they were wanted to
carry his victuals and impedimenta from one manor to another. 5
Generally speaking, however, the costs of the steward’s advent
were a charge on the manor, and are duly returned in the
accounts at the end of the year, when the tallies given by the
steward are duly produced by the reeve and checked against the
account. For example, on a Norfolk manor in 134a, the tally re¬
corded the consumption of 1 £ bushels of wheat; z bushels, 1 peck
of oats; 1 bushel of barley; z bushels of malt; 1 capon; 1 hen; as
well as other things costing is. 9Jd. 6

1 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 51.

* Rentals and Surveys, Roll 403; and compare Crondal Records, 128 (1287).

3 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 53.

* Durham Halmote Rolls, I, 72, 101, 140, 146.

5 Ibid . 1, 125, *44-

* Manor of Hindringham. Information supplied by Mr W. Hudson and
Dr H. W. Saunders.

i 6 z MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

On most manors we may confidently imagine that the steward
only came into actual contact with the peasant at the Manor
Court or in exceptional circumstances, although his orders and
decisions as to the manorial economy must have had a great effect
on the lives of everyone in the village. Much closer to the
villager—often in daily contact with him we find lesser officials,
and of these the bailiff and the reeve are most important. It is
necessary to avoid sweeping statements with regard to these two
officials, for every manor had its own system. Sometimes we
find both bailiff and reeve active on the manor; sometimes the
bailiff is in charge of several manors and has to move about
frequently to supervise their effective working; sometimes we
find no trace of any bailiff at all, for many manors, no doubt, were
controlled by the lord in person or by a member of his family,
thus obviating the need of a bailiff. 1 Small manors, or manors
lying close together and belonging to the same lord, were often
overseen by a bailiff who only paid occasional visits. To this
end Simon of Senlis writes:

Know also, Lord, that I will, if you please, commit the custody
of your manor of Bissopestone to Henry, a serving man (? serviens) of
Bourne, and chiefly on account of the sheep, because I think Henry
will manage in such a business well and competently, and will also be
able easily to keep (custodire) the manor of Bourne, together with the
manor of Bissopestone, and easier than Bume and Bexle on account
of the crossing over the water.. .and then some one else will be able
to keep Bexle without a horse. 2

The large number of instances in which we find a bailiff managing
more than one manor suggests that this was a very common
practice, and that the presence of both reeve and bailiff through¬
out the whole of the year on any but very large manors was
wasteful. 3 These officials who over-saw a number of manors
were often given the rank and pay of a sergeant (serviens), but
there is little to differentiate their duties from those of the ordinary
bailiff. 4

1 Rogers, Prices , II, 608 ff.; Kettering Compotus, 84.

* Sussex Arch. Soc. in, 54.

8 Wykeham’s, Register, 11,229, 497 ,522; Min. Acc . 1143/18; Rogers, Prices,
I, 13; Davenport, op. ctt. 50, etc.

* Hall, Winton Pipe Roll , 13, 15, 16, 34, 50; and especially xvn; A.A.S.R.

xxiv, 327, 330.

THE BAILIFF

163

Bailiff or sergeant, whatever his title, the holder stood apart
from the other dwellers on the manor. Not only was he a free
man, but he was invested with the prestige arising from his
position as the mouthpiece of the lord. When he first came on to
the manor he brought letters with him from his patron com¬
mitting the manor into his charge, and commanding all to show
him respect and obedience. 1 Sometimes these letters set out
his duties at some length, as when the monks of Canterbury
appointed a bailiff

for our manor of C. there to cause the land to be ploughed, sown,
reaped, manured and cultivated, and all the wagons and ploughs and
cattle together with the sheep, lambs, hogs, and all other head of
stock there to be managed and tended as shall seem best for our profit,
rendering thereof such an account as it behoves bailiffs to render, and
receiving, for him and his man, what other bailiffs holding the same
office in past time received . 2

This formal authorisation was necessary, for we find men pre¬
tending to be bailiffs for their own ends. 3 The official position of
the bailiff was emphasised by the formalities which took place
before the steward at the first Manor Court held after a new
appointment, at which the bailiff took the oath of fealty, swearing
to “behave honestly toward the county, toward rich and poor”,
and to guard the lord’s rights. 4 Not so highly paid as the sene¬
schal, he still could look forward to a stipend far above that of the
other manorial servants. For example, the bailiff for Droxford
had an annual wage of six pounds, while a ploughman only got
eight shillings and a shepherd had to be content with half that
amount. 5

His position was further emphasised by the fact that he dwelt
in the manor house at the expense of the lord, residing in “the
chamber which the farm-bailiffs are accustomed to have”, and
from which he could superintend the activities of the whole
manor, and could keep a sharp eye on the manorial servants who
lived in the outbuildings attached to the manor house. His own

1 See examples of such letters in Reg. Pontissara , 465,589; WykehanCs Reg.
270, 427. For appointment, see Hist. MSS . Com. Bath , Nos. 707, 742, 749.

2 Lit. Cant. 11, 309, and cf. 1, 146.

8 Cal. Inqms. Misc . 1, 419; Hales Rolls, 92; Wakefield Rolls, 1, 125, 281.

4 Selden Soc. iv, 77; Wakefield Rolls , n, 41.

* Levett, op. cit . 163. Cf. Davenport, op. cit. 22; Min . Acc. 1143/18.

11-2

164 manorial administration

responsibilities were many. 1 He carried out the general agri¬
cultural policy which had been decided on in consultation with
the steward, and had to deal with the intricate details which
arose continually on every field and pasture, and to keep a watchful
eye lest any services due to his master were evaded or ill-
performed. He had to know just what he might demand as laid
down by extent and customal, but within these limits his powers
were very extensive. We see him directing the work of the
peasants, now ordering a ditch to be dug or scoured, now sending
them to carry wood for the winter, now setting them to make new
wattles for the fold. At his own discretion he determined how
various men’s work might best be expended. The peasant on the
Glastonbury manors, for example, was bound to do whatever
handiwork the bailiff should desire, 2 and again and again in the
customals the phrase adpreceptum ballivi or quod ballivi voluerint
occurs.

Naturally, with powers such as these he was not the most
popular man on the manor, and had to be protected by the lord
in the exercise of his duties. Thus we find that if a man assaulted
the bailiff of a Berkshire manor he was fined sixpence, whereas
his violence to another man would only cost him twopence. 3
Nevertheless, angry or desperate men were not easily put off,
and would often attack the bailiff or any other men who tried
to hinder them, or to seize their goods, so that we have many
examples of savage fights in which the bailiff was involved. 4 Not
that all bailiffs were the aggrieved parties. Far from this being
so, there is, as we should expect, a continuous outcry against their
excesses and harsh behaviour. “The churl like the willow
sprouts the better for being cropped”, was the belief of some of
these men, who earned for themselves the reputation of flayers
of rustics (excoriator rmticorum ). At frequent intervals we hear
of bailiffs who compelled men to buy ale from them at double its
lawful price, while others extorted illegitimate carrying or harvest
services. Sometimes they winked at some infringement of

1 For a very detailed account of the bailifFs activities and responsibility
see Fleta, 161, and Walter of Henley , 87.

1 Glas. Rentalia , 102, 146, 205.

* Hist . MSS. Com . vi, 583.

4 See, for example, Thatcham, 11, 272; Select Coroner's Rolls , 10; Ramsey
Cart , I, 428, etc.

THE BAILIFF AND THE PEASANT 165

manorial custom by a favoured peasant, or were themselves
flagrant offenders. In short, there was a wide field for the
activities of knavish bailiffs, and many entries in the Hundred
Rolls and in manorial documents 1 show that such men reaped a
rich harvest, and that the popular phrase which spoke of the
bailiff as “rough as a boar” had some justification.

While the day of reckoning for such offences was frequently
long delayed, the bailiff was well aware that from time to time the
coming of the steward gave an opportunity for complaint to be
laid against him and also for the steward himself to notice how
things were going. While he might hope to escape any serious
criticism at the Manor Court—for, after all, his position was so
considerably superior to that of the serfs, and he always had
the ear of the steward, who would generally support his actions
—yet yearly a day of reckoning came. Once a year, soon after
Michaelmas, the lord’s auditors appeared on the manor, and held
a searching inquiry into its financial condition. The bailiff had
to face this and give full details of how he had spent the lord’s
money and with what return. Every smallest detail was in¬
vestigated. Let us take, as an example, the question of hos¬
pitality. As the representative of the lord, the bailiff from time
to time gave a night or two’s shelter to some passing traveller
who claimed to be a friend or dependent of the lord. But the
auditors were not satisfied with this. By what authority did he
extend such hospitality, and where was the written command
from his lord which authorised his action? If he could not pro¬
duce this, or something that would move these hard-faced men,
he found himself surcharged with the amount. Some justifica¬
tion for such scrutiny may be urged, for men found this an easy
way of getting a free night’s lodging, and it was necessary to take
steps to overcome such abuse. So bad, indeed, did it become at
times that lords had to refuse all hospitality to strangers, as did
the Bishop of Winchester, in 1295, when he issued an order
to all his bailiffs commanding them to receive no one except
the steward and his clerk. 2

When at last the day came for the bailiff to leave the manor, he
made his final appearance before the auditors, and having given

1 Rot. Hund . passim; Hales Rolls , 404; Vale Royal , 117, etc.

* Reg. Pontissara, 529; and see also Walter of Henley , 92, 102.

166 MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

an account of his stewardship, asked for his discharge. But there
were often details still awaiting settlement and rents not fully
accounted for, and these could lead to infinite trouble for the
bailiff in future years. So, if he were wise, he got a chirograph
acquittance from the auditors setting forth the state of affairs on
his leaving office. Such documents usually set out that on the
day the bailiff relinquished office there were on the manor so
many horses, so many ploughs, etc. Two copies of this document
were written on one piece of parchment which was then divided
by cutting it into two by a wavy line. The one part was given to
the bailiff: the other was sewn to the account roll for that year,
so that in any dispute there it was on record, and could be
appealed to, both by lord and by bailiff. 1

The influence of Fleta and Walter of Henley on our knowledge
of the working arrangements of the manor has already been dis¬
cussed, and the version they give must be regarded as a Utopian
rather than as a realist view. But, whether we are dealing with
manors which form part of a vast organisation necessitating
steward and bailiff, or with manors which are much more simply
managed, one important fact emerges. However elemental the
organisation, or however complex, we find universally present
one official, and it may be doubted whether sufficient importance
has hitherto been attached to this man—the reeve—as an essential
unit in the manorial machine. Et erit prepositus ad voluntatem
domini: these well-known words, which occur in almost every
extent, would appear to have misled students into minimising the
importance of the reeve’s office because of its servile implication.
It is perfectly true that to acknowledge liability to serve as reeve
usually implied acknowledgement of servile status; but, neverthe¬
less, these serf-ministers were of enormous importance in the
effective working of the manor. The bailiff is characterised by
Vinogradoff as an “outsider”, a man imposed from without on
the peasants; the reeve, on the contrary, was one of themselves,
a man of the manor, knowing every field in it, and acquainted
from boyhood with the eccentricities and habits of every person
inhabiting its cots. Therefore, is it not reasonable to suppose
that the working of the manor was more effectively aided by the

1 For specimens of chirograph acquittances, see Min. Acc. 842/21,958/26,
1297/23. See also below, p. 192.

THE REEVE

167

detailed and intimate knowledge of the reeve than by the over¬
bearing exterior pressure exerted by an “outsider” bailiff? This
contention is further strengthened when we observe that very
frequently it is the reeve, and not the bailiff, who is called on
“to account in great detail for everything under his charge”.
The annual accounts, it is true, may be presented by the bailiff
solely, or sometimes by the bailiff and reeve jointly, but quite as
often we find them presented by the reeve only. The fact that a
serf was so trusted as to be allowed to render on his own authority
the most detailed return of every item on the manor, should make
us wonder whether he was relatively so insignificant as we have
been taught to believe.

Further, when we enquire how long he held his office, the
most enlightening evidence is forthcoming. The reeve was
generally elected or presented at the Manor Court, usually at
Michaelmas, and his term of office was for the ensuing year. It
is quite wrong, however, to infer from this that he necessarily
held office only for a year. We may remember Chaucer’s reeve
of Baldeswell who had held office “syn that his lord was twenty
yeere of age”, and he was not singular in this. Indeed, there is
much evidence to show that, if a reeve displayed any aptitude
for his office, his lord was only too ready to continue him in the
same year after year. The Ministers’ Accounts in the Public
Record Office furnish valuable evidence on this point, and the
present writer has examined all those series which cover a number
of years consecutively (and many of those which have breaks in
them) and which therefore yield the most exact information ob¬
tainable, with the object of finding who presented the accounts
and how long they continued in office. The evidence is too bulky
to be given here in full, but a few specimens may be quoted. On
the manor of the monks of Westminster at Teddington in 1304-5
the reeve is Walter le Notiere. We find this same Walter reeve in
every subsequent year for which the accounts are still extant
until 1326-7—a period of twenty-two years. 1 At Eastwood in
Essex one man is reeve from 1351-2 until 1373-4; 2 at Eamwood
in Shropshire Adam atte Halle renders the accounts as reeve in
1 379-80, 1384-5, and again, after a break, for the three years
1392-5. 3 In every county in which the accounts can be tested

1 Min. Acc. 918/2-19. * Ibid. 840/22-34. * Ibid . 967/3-13.

168

MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

similar results have been obtained; and it is reasonable to infer
that, by the fourteenth century at least, the reeve was often as
permanent an officer, despite his servile origin, as was the
sergeant or bailiff. And when once we have admitted his per¬
manency, it is difficult to resist the conclusion that such a man
exercised an enormous influence over the working of the manor.
We have seen that the reeve, by reason of his origin, had an
initial advantage over the bailiff in his knowledge of his fellows
and their holdings; and, if we consider what this meant when
enriched by the cumulative experience gained by years of service
in office, the claims of the reeve to be considered as the “pivot
man” of the manorial administrative system are very great. One
last point may be noted. Among the executive officers the reeve
alone is always to be found on the manor among the peasantry.
Stewards come at fixed times and seasons for the most part;
sergeants and bailiffs may, or may not, live in curia from year’s
end to year’s end; but the reeve is adscriptus glebae, and it is
partly this very immobility which gives him his importance.

He is the man who knows his fellows with a thoroughness
denied to bailiffs and others. However good the bailiff, how¬
ever well he conducts the manor from his lord’s point of view,
he cannot have that understanding of domestic detail and cir¬
cumstance that the reeve has, an understanding coming from
lifelong intimacy in that closest of intimacies—the medieval
village. It was the reeve who knew what was John atte Green’s
weak point, or what was the way to get recalcitrant Wat Hordle
to the plough, or where was the place to find the laggardly
William Joye. His fixture to the soil gave him all this, and it also
gave the lord a pledge that in every manor he had one man at
least among the peasantry whom he could hold stricdy account¬
able for all that concerned the manorial economy. Hence, it is
not the bailiff but the reeve who generally presents the yearly
manorial account, and the reason for this is to be found in the
fact that it is the reeve, and not the bailiff, who has watched over
the manor all the year, and who now has to account for the de¬
tailed working of the manor for each one of its 365 days.

At the outset, then, we can see that the office of reeve was not
one lightly to be assumed, and we can easily understand how it
became essential in the lord’s interest that he should enforce

SERVICE AS REEVE 169

this service from his men. His free tenants were insistent on their
exemption from serving as reeve, and rightly, for if a man could
be proved to have served as reeve, the lawyers thought them¬
selves well on the way to proving him to be a serf. Self-interest
and self-respect were at the back of the free man's claim for
exemption, so that the free men of Bisley in Gloucestershire, on
being ordered by the steward to elect a reeve, protested that “by
ancient custom the reeve must be of villein blood", 1 and that,
therefore, they were exempt. This was the general attitude of
free men throughout England, but, nevertheless, some lords
were insistent enough to force this service from their free men. 2

This was extremely rare, however, and the luckless serfs had
to bear the burden among themselves, even though some of their
number were able to escape, for it generally happened that only
the larger holders in the village were liable for this duty. This
was but natural, for it would not have been easy for the peasant
with only his cot and close to have been set above another man
who held perhaps 30, perhaps 60 acres, and who probably gave
employment to the cottar from time to time. Hence, as Miss
Neilson has shown at Sutton in Warwickshire, “the men of the
bondage with one virgate were liable to be officers of the King or
lord, as was pleasing; but men with half a virgate, or a nocata ,
or a cottage, were liable only to be beadles or tithing-men”. She
quotes also further examples from various parts of England in
confirmation of this. 3

The reeve was chosen once a year, generally at Michaelmas.
An examination of the methods adopted for his election reveals
to us such diversity of practice as we should expect. Autocratic
selection by the lord; preliminary selection by the peasants and
final selection by the lord; democratic election by the peasants:
all these methods were in use on various manors and at
various times. There seems to have been a general movement
from autocratic selection by the lord to democratic election by
the peasants, but we must beware of introducing order where all
is disorder. Certainly, some of our earliest existing records show
the lord exercising his absolute right to elect whomsoever he

1 V.C.H. Glos. n, 136.

2 Gale, Honour of Richmond, 66; Davenport, op. cit . 31.

3 Cust. Rents , 101, 102.

MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

170

would to be reeve. This is definitely laid down by the Battle
Abbey Customals , the only limitation being the obvious one that
the man chosen should be one of the larger holders. 1 The same
state of affairs is implied by the payment of 6 s. 8 d. by the men of
Staplegrove to the Bishop of Winchester in 1284, in order that
they might “elect their own reeve, and have no reeve save by
election”. 2

Naturally this crude assertion of rights did not always pass
unchallenged. When the steward of Preston, Simon de Pierre-
point, endeavoured to force Hildebrand Reynberd to serve as
reeve in 1280, Reynberd was not willing. To convince the steward
of this, Reynberd gathered together a band of fifty or more of his
fellows who proceeded to the steward’s house which they fired
in three places. Then they killed his falcon and maltreated his
horses. After this, they caught the steward himself, and there
and then before his own burning house, threatened him with
knives and axes, until he swore not to make exactions against
their will in future and not to call them to account for their
insubordination. 3 On another occasion the villeins of the monks
of Burton were equally recalcitrant. The steward removed the
reeve from his office and tried to substitute another in his place,
but everyone refused, as the lord had recently seized all their
cattle and lands for certain offences on their part. “No land, no
reeve”, was their cry. 4

On manors where the powers of the lord were not quite so
autocratic we find that the peasants were allowed to make a
preliminary selection among themselves, and then the lord or his
agent made the final choice. The four men of Brightwaltham
mentioned above as the “most competent men of the whole vill”
had to appear before the steward, and his choice fell upon
Thomas Smith. 5 The most general method, however, was that of
election by the peasants themselves. This gave a semblance of
power into their hands, and gradually, by purchase or other
means, the right to elect their own reeve was obtained by the
villani on many manors. Yet, even when they had won this

1 Op. cit. 66; and see V.C.H. Middlesex , n, 68.

* Levettj op. tit. 14. 8 V.C.H. Sussex , 11, 185.

4 Burton Cart. 83, and see p. 305.

5 Select Pleas of the Crown, 168; cf. Borough Charters , II, lxxxvi, for an
example of this in a borough; W. Rees, South Wales , 183.

ELECTION OF THE REEVE 171

privilege from the lord, they found it had its disadvantages.
Indeed, some of the manuals distinctly state it to be an advantage
to the lord that his serfs should elect their own reeve; for, says
the author of Hosebonderie : “All those who hold in villeinage on
a manor must elect as reeve such an one as they will answer for,
for if the lord suffer any loss by the fault of the reeve, and he
shall not have of his own goods the wherewithal to make it good,
they shall pay for him the surplus which he cannot pay.” 1 This
was not mere theory, for the manorial injunctions of the monks
of Gloucester expressly lay down this communal liability as a
corollary of free election, and the same is true on manors in other
parts of England. 2

Once popular election obtained, it was not long before the
possibilities of evasion exercised men’s minds. Sometimes whole
communities paid a lump sum in order that none of their number
might be compelled to serve as reeve. Thus the men of Bulver-
hythe, in 1222, were to pay their lord twenty shillings, for they
were all unwilling to serve, 3 while at Inglethorp the twelve vir-
gaters there compounded for 6 s. 8 d. “that they might not be
chosen for the reeveship”. 4 Individuals also were constantly to
be found willing to pay a fine for permission to decline the office,
when elected to it, and the fact that they disgorged quite con¬
siderable sums indicates the onerous and responsible nature of
the office. 5 It may well be that there is some connection between
this custom of buying exemption and the fact that on some
manors the office devolved solely on the holders of certain lands.
Thus at Kirton, in Lincolnshire, an inquisition of 1300 tells us
that there were two tofts and four bovates set aside “whose
tenants ought to be the lord’s reeve”. 6 In other parts of the East of
England again, somewhat similar conditions obtained, as at
Hindolvestone, in Norfolk, where, in 1309, we find that “certain
land of William Erl was elected to the office of reeveship”. 7

1 Walter of Henley, 67. It is expressed more briefly by Walter himself on
p. 11.

2 Glouc . Cart, in, 221. Cf. D.S.P. lxvii.

3 Gale, Honour of Richmond, Appendix, 45.

4 Kettering Compotus , 88; and see Oust. Rents , no.

5 Hales Rolls, 258; Wakefield Rolls , 11, 14, 54, etc.; Selden Soc. II, 23, 45,
168; cf. ibid . iv, 128.

6 Inquis . Post Mortem, Ed. I, in, 470.

7 Hist. Teachers* Misc. 1, 157, 180. Cf. Davenport, op. cit. 50.

MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

172

Hence, whoever was holding that particular piece of land was
liable for this service. In all such cases the result was that the
greater part of the community went free, and the burden of
office was thrown upon a mere handful of people. An amusing
instance of the way in which men would evade office, if possible,
is furnished by the proceedings at a Dulwich Court of 1333.
Three of those who should have been present were absent, and
as there were three vacant reeveships to be filled, their fellows
seized the opportunity to elect them forthwith to these offices;
and, in case there should be any doubt in the matter, the Court
reaffirmed the election the next time it met. 1

Whatever method was employed in the election of the reeve,
and however many men avoided the office, at last one man was
chosen, and there and then was sworn in by the lord or his
steward in the presence of the whole Court. Thus there could be
no question who was the new reeve, or that everybody knew
about it. 2

We may now turn to consider what were the duties which
faced the newly elected reeve, and what powers he had at his
disposal. We may put the matter briefly by saying that every
item of the manorial economy was his concern. The estate
manuals excel themselves in setting out his duties, and their
detail runs to many pages. He must, they say, see that the farm
servants rise in good time and get to work quickly; he must over¬
look the ploughing, carting, marling, seeding; he must keep a
watch on the threshers so that they neither waste nor steal; he
must supervise the livestock and see to their well-being. It is his
duty to issue the various food allowances to the servants at
stated intervals, and he is expected to hale before the Manor
Court all those who fail in their service. The proper upkeep of
the manor house, the farm-buildings and all the agricultural
implements is his concern—in short there is no end to the variety
or the extent of his labours. Nor is he always to be found about
the manor, for at times his duties take him to distant parts. The
reeve of Cuxham, for example, might have been seen one day in

1 W. Young, Hist. Dulwich College , 11, 272. Of. E.H.R. xxxix, 122, where
Mr Hilary Jenkinson suspects similar occurrences on East Kent manors. For
several reeves on one manor, see Levett, op. cit. 37, where it is shown that
Waltham had no less than six!

* Durham Halmote Rolls , 36; TatenhUl , 11, 48, 66; cf. Fleta, 164.

THE REEVE’S DUTIES 173

1331 far from his Oxfordshire manor, for he was busy on the
wharf at Southwark, whither he had come to inspect and pur¬
chase millstones for his lord’s mill. We may follow his anxious
homeward progress with his five precious stones, for which he
had paid the large sum of £15. i6r. Sd. First he took them by
water to Henley, and from there he arranged for their transport
the rest of the journey in carts hired for the purpose. 1 Similarly
many reeves journeyed considerable distances to fairs or markets
to buy and sell on their lords’ behalf. And from time to time
with four of his fellows he was called on to appear at the Hundred
Court, there to answer for all things concerning the manor, and at
rare intervals he might even have to appear before the dreaded
itinerant justices at their Eyre. 2

The reeve, then, was the chief of the peasants for the time
being, and is often found, not peacefully leading his fellows to
answer at the King’s Courts, but encouraging them to resist
authority. Two cases must serve to indicate this phase of his
activities. In the first the reeve leads the men of his village of
Carleton on an expedition to throw down the dyke which has
been erected by the Abbey of Byland at Wyldon, 3 and in the
second, after the King’s foresters had taken certain beasts as
pledges, the animals were rescued by certain men. They were
reproved by the bailiff of a local lord, Ralph de Ralegh, where¬
upon

Robert de Byham, reeve of the said Ralph, ordered all the villeins of
his lord and of the Abbess of Pratis, and of the prior of the hospital of
St. Bartholomew, London, and all the villeins of Streton to make
themselves ready with arms and they made a league ( statutum ) among
them and put scouts ( insidiatores ) in a wind-mill and in the church
tower to watch when the King’s ministers (officials) came to do their
office; and when they came all the villeins raised the hue and came
together and rescued their beasts and beat and wounded and ill-
treated the said bailiffs. 4

It is c W r that the power entrusted to these men was often very
great, for frequently they were left in sole charge of the man¬
orial labours for weeks at a time. We have already seen that some
bailiffs were unfaithful, and it is not to be wondered at that some

1 Rogers, Wages, 113; cf. Cunningham, op. cit. 598.

1 Statutes of the Realm, Henry I, cap. 7.

* Cal. Inquis. Misc. No. 199. 4 No. *09.

i 7 4 MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

reeves took advantage of their position, and either deceived and
swindled their masters or oppressed and bullied their fellows. Op¬
pression, no doubt, was always possible, and human nature being
what it is, we may be sure that even-handed justice was not infalli¬
bly administered. It would be hard to believe that bribery did not
exist in the circumstances or that favouritism did not flourish.
It was so easy to arrange. The reeve frequently had full authority
as to how the day’s work should be expended, so that it was easy
for him to arrange matters to the satisfaction of his friends, and
to give this one an easy task, or to let him slip away early. There
was obviously a limit to such proceedings: no reeve could afford
to fly in the face of the majority of his fellows, and a rough and
ready give and take characterised the general relations between
reeve and peasants. At times a reeve went too far, and his
fellows complained of the matter at the next Manor Court as they
had a right to do. It was then for the lord to enquire into the
matter, and to determine what was the truth, and this he did
generally by means of a manorial jury. It will be seen, therefore,
that the reeve had only a limited opportunity for oppression—
always provided, however, that his lord was prepared to see
justice done and that the peasants who formed the Court were
not oppressed and afraid to speak their mind. Thus, in 1278, we
have a long complaint before the Court, in which the reeve was
accused of discriminating between rich and poor, of taking
bribes, and of excusing men from their work for certain pay¬
ments. Some of the charges were believed to be true by the jury,
while others were dismissed, and the case may serve as an ad¬
mirable example of the way in which the Manor Court acted as a
check on any outrageous action by a reeve. 1 In another court, in
1278, a reeve brought a man before the Court, and asserted that
he feigned sickness and failed to come to work, while all the
time he was hale and at work in his own bam and yard. The
manorial jury evidently regarded this as a piece of malice on the
reeve’s part, and he was not believed, and as a result he was fined
for his misbehaviour. 2

Generally, however, it was not the peasant but the lord who
suffered at the hands of the reeve, and when we recall the reeve’s
position, and the multifarious opportunities he had for taking a
1 Selden Soc. u, 95. * Ibid . 91.

THE REEVE AND THE AUDITORS 175

little here and there, we need not be surprised. This side of the
reeve’s activities was sufficiently common knowledge for Chaucer
to comment on it:

Ful riche he was astored pryvely:

His lord wel koude he plesen subtilly,

To yeve and lene hym of his owene good,

And have a thank, and yet a cote and hood.

Not only this: he was so able to conduct the manorial affairs that
he even lent his lord moneys arising from the estate, and did this
in so clever a way that the auditors were unable to get the better
of him. 1 And this was no easy matter, for, as we have already seen,
the annual audit was a very searching enquiry, and whether
bailiff or reeve made the return, the proceedings were the same.
Everything had to be accounted for, and what wonder if the un¬
fortunate reeve faltered at times, and found himself obliged to
invent a reason for the outlay of certain moneys, or the loss of an
ox, or the defection of certain rents. So from time to time we
stumble across entries which show that something like this has
happened: a reeve is fined 6 s. 8 d. for “many things concealed” 2
in his accounts, or is found guilty of returning certain tenements
as empty when in fact they were still occupied, 3 and so on. The
whole working of the account will be explained later, and it will
be seen what a formidable matter it was for the reeve, and how
thankful he must have been once it was over.

Although the lord had the right to require his men to serve as
reeves, he was not so harsh as to demand this service gratis.
There were emoluments and allowances which compensated in
some part for the heavy burdens of office. Nearly always the
reeve was given a direct money payment, small indeed when com¬
pared with that received by the steward, or even that of the
bailiff, but considerably more than was given to any of his fellows
who were employed by the lord. It will be found that the reeve’s
pay is at least double that received by the ploughmen or carters,
and usually was paid by the lord. 4 In places, however, as on the
Batde Abbey manors, it was exacted from the peasants, and in

1 C.T. Prologue , 587. 2 Rogers, Prices , 11, 210.

* Levett, op. cit. 150; and see below, p. 191.

4 See, for example, Winton Pipe Roll , passim.

176 manorial administration

addition to their rents we find them paying fourpence or eight-
pence each ad stipendium praepositi - 1 But it was not the money
which he received that made up the main part of the reeve’s
rewards. These he gleaned from three main sources: re¬
mission of rent, temporary grants of special pieces of meadow or
close and relaxation of many services. It is very common to find
that the reeve for the time being is excused all, or a part, of his
yearly rent. The custom varied, but the general principle was in
accord with common sense and justice. The reeve was much
occupied with the lord’s affairs, and necessarily could give only
partial attention to his own strips, and it was not reasonable
that he should pay so much for them as in ordinary years. Hence,
the Eynsham monks excused their reeve the whole of his rent;
on another lord’s manor half was relinquished, and on yet
another five shillings only was allowed. 2 Each manor had its own
custom, and there is no apparent reason for the variations.

From earlier chapters the value of grazing privileges will have
been realised, and these formed one of the most highly esteemed
perquisites of the reeve’s office. At times these took the form of
permission to turn out his cattle on the lord’s own reserved
fields, as at Glastonbury, where the reeve has the right to graze
his team of eight oxen with the lord’s cattle in the demesne
meadows. 3 In other places, the reeve could claim sustenance for
his beasts, as on one of the manors of the Dean and Chapter of
Wells, where he was entitled to half an acre of meadow to main¬
tain his draught horse throughout the winter, as well as pasturage
for it in summer. 4 On other manors again certain closes were set
apart for his use. We have the “ Refhammes”, consisting of two
plots of pasture, allotted to a Glastonbury reeve; 5 or the five
capecia of meadow allotted to the reeve on one of the Ramsey
manors 6 as examples of this. As a further reward he was some¬
times given a share of the crops on the lord’s demesne, as well as
what he was able to grow for himself. He is kept severely in his.
place, however, by the quality of these gifts. The Glastonbury

1 Battle Customalsy 7, io, n, etc. Cf. Norf. Arch . xx, 191.

* Eynsham Cart . II, 137; CaL Inquis. Misc . I, 64; Castlecombe , 146.

* Glas. Rentalia , 243, and cf. 94.

* Hist. MSS . Coot. Wells, 1, 343; and cf. Ramsey Cart . 1, 496.

5 Glas . Rentalia, 140; and cf. 243 “the reevis meadow”.

* Ramsey Cart. 1, 433; cf. also Bleadon, 194.

THE REEVE’S PRIVILEGES

177

reeve was given “ 1 acre of com in his lord’s third-best field”, 1
while the Battle reeves were forced to be content with one acre of
corn grown on land which had not been manured, and was there¬
fore not likely to yield very highly. Even this was not all, for they
could only take it at the order and discretion of the bailiff, who
could thus give them whatever he wished. 2

The greatest relief the reeve obtained was undoubtedly from
none of these things, but from a partial or total relaxation of his
customary works. In fact, it would have been wellnigh impossible
for him to act as reeve and also to perform his usual number of
daily works; and most customals realise this and excuse him
completely. 3 Some grudging lords would not assent to this, but
made their reeve pay a fine of half a mark in lieu of the works
their own demands forbade him fulfilling, while others would
excuse the works at the busy harvest season only. 4

Besides these various privileges, he was on some manors so
identified with the lord that he could demand his food daily with
the lord’s other servants at the manor house. 5 On some of the
Ramsey estates this was so, while at Harmondsworth in Middle¬
sex the reeve either dined daily at his lord’s table or else received
a weekly allowance of one bushel of wheat. The Harmondsworth
entry concludes “and nothing more save by the lord’s grace”, as
if to protect the lord from his reeve demanding total and not
partial board. We shall see the importance of this when we come
to discuss the other manorial servants. 6

A far more frequent custom, however, was to allow the reeve
to eat with the other manorial servants during the harvest period
which extended roughly from the feast of St Peter in Chains
(1 Aug.) to Michaelmas (29 Sept.). This was a period of abnormal
activity, and it was most important that the reeve should be con¬
stantly at the head of affairs, and about the manor and the manor
house. So the lord graciously allowed him to feed at the manor

1 Glas. Rentalia, 243; and cf. 56, 60, 67, 94, etc.

* Battle Customals, 66.

8 See Glas. Rentalia, passim; Ramsey Cart, passim; Eynsham Cart . 10, 61,
137; Rot. Hund . II, 525 a; etc.

4 Ramsey Cart. 1, 52; Castlecombe, 146; but see Davenport, op. cit, lxvi,
where the reeve gets off three works at harvest, and apparently none during
all the rest of the year.

5 Ramsey Cart. 1, 406, 473; cf. D.S.P. Lxvii.

6 V.CJf. Middlesex, 11, 68. See below, p. 184.

BL

12

I 7 8 manorial administration

house throughout that period. In some cases this is defined
vaguely as “in autumpno”; other customals state that the reeve
may be ad mensam domini 1 a Gula Augnsti usque festum S.
Michaelisf others cut the period down to five weeks only, 3 while
some emphasise the temporary nature of the arrangement by the
emphatic words “from beginning of autumn to the end and no
more”, 4 or “and afterwards at his own table throughout the rest
of the year”. 5

Our examination of the duties and rewards of the reeve, as
well as the circumstances of his election, have shown us a multi¬
plicity of local variations governing the general principle, et erit
prepositus ad voluntatem domini. Custom was strong, here as
everywhere on the manor, and no lord could exact more than the
course of time had determined as the proper amount, nor could
he wisely withhold the customary rewards. The reeve was a
valuable servant, and a good reeve was a treasure not lightly to
be thrown on one side. Hence it is that we find certain men re¬
maining in office year after year, for it was obviously to every¬
one's advantage that they should continue to act as reeves. So
long as a man could be found willing to undertake the arduous
and invidious task, and so long as he did it to the satisfaction of
all on the manor, neither lord nor peasants were likely to ask for
any change.

But the lord had not finished with his serf once he had served
as reeve. There were still several other manorial offices which
he might call on him to fill. The chief of these were those of
messor (or hayward as he was often called) and that of beadle or
constable. Although in many cases it is possible to separate the
duties of these two officers, we so often find them exercised by
one person that any insistence on a very rigid differentiation
would be pedantic. It is a convenience to separate them, but we
must beware of making things too clear and of insisting on
classifications which the medieval mind did not make. And it is
worth our notice in passing to recall that even the idealised
systems of Walter of Henley and others do not set out in detail

1 Battle Customals, 66; Wilts Arch. Mag. xxxn, 326; Clutterbuck, Hertford,
m, 618.

* Ramsey Cart. 1, 496; StapledorCs Register, 347.

8 Sussex Arch. Soc. Coll, liii, 48, 66, 78.

4 Camb. Antiq . Soc. Proc. xxvii, 169. 5 Ramsey Cart . 1, 496.

THE HAYWARD

179

the duties for both these men on one manor. The beadle is almost
always ignored in these treatises, being referred to only in some
common-form inclusive way when the general duties of the
“provost or beadle or hayward or any other servant of the
manor” 1 are in question. We may define the duties of each of
these two officers roughly as these: the beadle was the policeman
of the village, taking pledges, levying distresses, etc., while the
messor was in charge of all those operations connected with the
sowing and gathering of the crops. There is little in these two
offices that made the holding of them by one man an impossi¬
bility, and we therefore need not be surprised to find this is
what actually happened on many manors.

At Forncett, for example, the terms bedelli and messores were
used interchangeably in the rolls, 2 and many other examples
might be given, 3 while at the Glastonbury manor of Dilcheat we
are definitely told that the hayward is also the beadle. With this
caution in mind let us see w T hat was the position and duties of
the hayward. They are very well defined in Senesckaucie:

The hayward ought to be an active and sharp man, for he must,
early and late, look after and go round and keep the woods, com, and
meadows and other things belonging to his office, and he ought to
make attachments and approvements faithfully, and take delivery by
pledge before the reeve, and deliver them to the bailiff to be heard.
And he ought to sow the lands, and be over the ploughers and
harrowers at the time of each sowing. And he ought to make all [those]
who are accustomed to come, do so, to do the work they ought to do.
And in hay time he ought to be over the mowers, the making and the
carrying (of the hay), and in August assemble the reapers and the boon-
tenants and the labourers, and see that the com be properly and cleanly
gathered; and early and late watch so that nothing be stolen or eaten
by beasts, or spoilt. And he ought to tally with the reeve all the seed,
and boon-work, and customs, and labour which ought to be done on
the manor throughout the year. 4

This account is well substantiated by documentary evidence,
and may, therefore, be accepted as substantially accurate. We
see the hayward keeping an eye on the pasture, and arresting

1 Walter of Henley, 91, 93, 101.

2 Davenport, op . cit. 25.

3 Clutterbuck, Hertford , in, 619; V.C.H. Middlesex , n, 68; Selden Soc.iv,
140.

4 Walter of Henley, 103. Cf. Fleta, 172 (11, cap. 84).

12-2

180 MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

those who infringe on their customary rights; 1 we meet him in
the Manor Courts seeking protection against those who threaten
his life and limb, because he executes his office properly. 2 In
harvest we see him supervising the work, and measuring the
sheaves to see that they are of the right size. 3 Then, after all have
gone home for the night, he stays on to see that no one carries off
his lord’s com; 4 and, finally, at the end of the year, he tallies with
the reeve for all the operations entrusted to him from time to
time. 5

He was elected to his office most probably by one of the
methods detailed above in describing the reeve. Our informa¬
tion is not so full, but we have many cases of autocratic selection
by the lord, and many in which the hayward is elected by his
fellows. 6 The two offices, we may suppose, developed along much
the same lines. Similarly, we find that the hayward received
emoluments and rewards analogous to those paid to the reeve.
His rent is excused or lowered; he gets certain perquisites, such
as a measure of seed-com from time to time, or a piece of
meadow (a beadle-mead) for himself, or a number of sheaves
at the harvest. He eats with the other manorial officers during
harvest, and this is paid for from the lord’s purse. 7

Not only his duties and rewards, but also his conduct of his
office bears close resemblance to that of the reeve. Untrust¬
worthy haywards occur as we saw untrustworthy reeves in office.
One of these haywards, we are told, used to watch until he found
people gleaning without permission. Then he swooped down
upon them, wrested away their lawful gains and quietly took
them off to the mill to be ground for himself. 8 Another of these
men is accused and found guilty of neglecting to guard his lord’s
fields properly. The jury also found that he took bribes to the

1 Durham Halmote Rolls, 55; V.C.H. Bucks, 11, 43.

2 Hales Rolls, 26.

2 Hone, op. cit . 233.

4 Battle Customals, 67; V.C.H. Middlesex, n, 68.

6 Davenport, op. cit . lxx, where the summary of the hayward’s accounts
gives a good idea of his many activities.

• V.C.H. Bucks, 11, 54; Clutterbuck, Hertford, in, 619; Battle Customals,
67; and for payment not to serve, see Selden Soc. 11, 128.

7 Glas . Rentalia, 64, 243; Battle Customals , 82; Cust. Rents, 102, and
note 5.

* Selden Soc. iv, 123.

THE BEADLE

181

subversion of justice; kept for himself the fines paid over to him,
and generally used the lord's property as if it were his own. 1
There is nothing here for surprise: when we remember the many
thousands of men who held this difficult office what is surprising
is that we do not get a larger volume of complaint and accusation.

When we turn to the harvard's companion (or other office) we
find that while his duties were various, they were mostly asso¬
ciated with the activities of the Manor Court. The following
description of the beadle of Stowe in Lincolnshire, in 1283, gives
an excellent summary of his duties.

R. Wale holds 1 bovate of land for which he ought to collect all the
moneys of the Bishop [of Lincoln], as well in respect of rents as of
other things... and to pay them at the will of the sergeant; and he
ought to summon all the work-tenants (< operarii ) and to look after
them while they are at work; and he ought to make the summonses
for paying hens... and to pay them at the next manors if they ought to
be sent there.. .and he ought to make all summonses and distresses,
etc., as often as they should be made_ 2

So on various other manors we find him summoning the
tenants to the Court, collecting the fines imposed on them, or
evicting them from their holdings by order of the Court. 3 As the
harvest season came round he visited all the tenants and warned
them of the days they would have to appear to gather in their
lord's corn; at other times he would seize their cattle found
straying in the lord's meadows or closes, and put them in the
village pound until the will of the lord was known concerning
them. 4

Clearly, such an officer was of great practical importance on
the manor, and we might extend our list of his duties to any
length by recording file innumerable variations of practice
throughout England. Much that we should like to know the re¬
cords do not tell us. Was he a very unpopular man on the manor?
Did men hate serving as beadle more than as reeve or hayward?
Was he often molested while performing his duty? These and

1 Selden Soc. iv, 140; Davenport, op . cit . 75 n. 2. Compare all this passage
with the extract quoted above from Seneschaucie, and also with Glouc. Cart .
ill, 213 iff.

* A.A.S.R. xxrv, 332.

8 Selden Soc. n, 112; Eynsham Cart . xiii, xlv; Hales Rolls , 36.

4 V.CJH. Middlesex, , n, 67; Hales Rolls, 26; Davenport, op . cit. 25.

182

MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

many other questions must await a much fuller knowledge of
manorial conditions. We may say with confidence, however, tW
it was not considered so onerous or responsible a task as that of
reeve, and we often find men liable for the office who were
excluded from the reeveship by the smallness of their holdings. 1

Besides serving in any of the above offices the peasant could
be called on to fill posts such as that of woodward—an offi c er
appointed to safeguard the lord’s woods and plantations, 2 or to
become a forester and watch over the lord’s deer and his rights
of chase. 3 Special conditions, again, required special legislation,
as in the Fen country, where certain officers were elected to
inspect and to report on the protecting dykes. The conditions of
election, service and emoluments of all these officers need not
detain us, as they are similar, mutatis mutandis, to those of thHr
fellow villein officials.

All these men we have been discussing carried out their duties
while still keeping their own strips in the common fields in active
cultivation, and they were often drawn from the larger holders of
villein-tenements. We have seen, however, that there were many
men on the manor whose holdings were too small to support
them without some other means of livelihood. Some were
absorbed by their more prosperous neighbours who were able
to offer them work from time to time, but the main source of
constant employment was to be found as one of the manorial
servants. The lord cultivated a considerable portion of the manor
(as we have seen) very largely by the aid he exacted from his villeins,
but it is doubtful whether this intermittent aid was ever sufficient
in itself. The lord probably always required the help of some of
the peasantry to look after his stock, and to perform innumerable
daily operations incident to farming, and Sir W. Ashley has
conjectured that some of these, such as the shepherds and ox¬
herds, were probably descended from the slaves of the demesne”
of Domesday times. 4 Whether this were so or not, some per-

1 CusU Rents, ioi, 102.

* S ! e Political Songs (Camden Soc.), 149, for mention of “the wodeward
looketh under * 3 * ” Also see Wilts. Arch. Mag. xxxii, 322;
Y . LM . Middlesex, II, 69, for hereditary woodward; Eynsham Cart . II, xiii,
xlv. Rys=boughs.

3 D.SJ?. 75, 98; Norf. Arch, xiv, 40,

4 Econ. Hist, i, 1, 32, 61.

THE FAMULI

183

manent staff was essential, and this seems to have been provided
for in various ways. At first it is probable that men who were
chosen to act as ploughmen or shepherds were excused other
rents or services, and even sometimes had the use of the lord’s
team one day a week to plough their own ground, or the right of
folding the lord’s cattle on their holding at certain intervals.
Besides this, they pastured their beasts with those of their lord,
and received other privileges in return for their labours. 1 On
some manors certain holdings were specially set aside for those
who fulfilled the offices of ploughman or swineherd, such as we
find on one of the Glastonbury manors, where we are told that
“there are small portions of lands which belong to the ploughs
called Sulstiche and Goddingchestiche whereof the ploughman
ought to have a portion as the others”. 2

From the very inception of the manorial system, however,
men were trying to unburden themselves of the constant weekly
work the lord imposed upon them. The more successful they
were in this, the greater the lord’s need for additional help. With
the money his peasantry paid for exemption from week-work he
was able to hire labourers who would be entirely at his disposi¬
tion. Hence, by the fourteenth century at latest—and much
earlier in many parts—another system was in full working. 3 The
lord had a body of servants who had no land of their own—or at
the most a few acres, and who were primarily on the manor to
cultivate his lands, and to tend his flocks and herds. These men
were known as the famuli. Their number, of course, varied from
manor to manor, but we generally find ploughmen, carters and
shepherd or swineherd among them. 4

On some manors a large staff gradually became the normal
thing, and the lord recruited them from his own serfs if possible.

1 Glas. Rentalia , 93-5, 122, 138, 204, 217; Battle Customals , 66; Ramsey
Cart. I, 318, 408, 473; Winton Pipe Roll , xxii.

2 Glas. Rentalia , 139; cf. 102; Page, End of Villainage. .., 22; Wore. Priory
Reg . 66 a; Cast. Rents , 102, 103.

3 Thus at Bray we find (temp. Henry III) the demesne worked by serfs
who held land on privileged terms. By the time of Edward I, the work was
done by men who received a fixed yearly wage, as well as an allowance of the
greater part of the com grown on the manor. V.C.H. Berks , 1, 175.

4 See, for example, Reg. Roff. I32~3> where the various types of men,
ploughmen, carters, etc. are enumerated for each manor. And compare
Wore. Priory Reg. 25 a, 119 b.

i8 4 manorial administration

The Hundred Rolls tell us that at Chalgrove, in Oxfordshire, the
yardland-holder who had sons old enough to earn a living
brought them up to the hall with him at Michaelmas, and there
selected one to serve the lord for a year at the usual wages. 1
The peasants on the Gloucester and other manors were evidently
liable to be impressed for service, and we find that the lord could
even move them about from one manor to another if he found
he could employ them more profitably by so doing. 2 The men
who were thus chosen were probably from the humbler ranks of
the peasants: “the poor cottars who obtain their living by the
work of their hands”, as the Inquisitio Nonarum calls them. 3
They were, in general, lodged in curia , that is, in the buildings
forming part of what would now be called the “home-farm”. 4
Their quarters were much the same as those they found in their
own homes, and otherwise they were comparatively well off; for,
unlike their fellows, they were not entirely dependent on the
seasons for their prosperity. They had payments both in money
and in kind. They were given a regular money wage, 5 and if they
held any land, their rent was reduced on this. 6 Further, they
were entitled to allowances of com and other farm produce, 7 and
during the busy harvest season they shared in the generous
rations which were provided at the manor house for the lord’s
officials at this time. 8

At Martham (Norfolk) in 1272, for example, we find them
consuming quantities of beef (both from the home stock, and
from that purchased in Norwich) and washing it down with beer,
brewed on the manor from malt there provided. Bread, both of
wheat and of rye, plenty of peas-pottage, herrings, cod, cheeses

1 Rot. Bund. 11, 768.

2 Glouc. Cart. in; Univ. Lib. Camb. MS. Kk. i. i. f. 2216.

3 Inquis . Nonarum, 14, and see V.C.H. Berks, 11, 175; Dorset, ii, 223;
Beds , II, 82,

4 Davenport, op. dt. 24 n. 3. "There is frequent mention of the domus
famulorum (cf. E.H.R. xx, 482) which was situated near the camera servientis;
and as a maid was kept to prepare pottage for the famuli, it seems probable that
the ploughmen, carters.. .were unmarried men, resident in the court.” But
see Rogers, Prices , I, 286-9.

5 Mim. Acc. 958/19; Kettering Compotus, 33.

* Levett, op. dt. 20; Min. Acc. 958/19; Crondal Records, 62.

7 Min. Acc. 7 51/18,215843/311859/23,918/17,998/25; Kettering Compotus,
47 > 53> 57» 65, 67, 69, etc. See above, p. 88.

8 Min. Acc. 918/3; Kettering Compotus, 33; Rogers, Prices , II, 622, 623.

PLATE IV

The thresher

The swineherd

PIERCE THE PLOUGHMAN 185

and an occasional goose 1 made the hard day’s work bearable. 2
Further, they were entitled to a regular issue of com at intervals
during the year, so that their condition was considerably superior
to that of many of their fellows, 3 whose lot, at its worst, no doubt,
is so movingly related to us in the lines of Pierce the Ploughman’s
Crede:

And as I wente be the waie wepynge for sorowe,

(I) seigh a sely man me by opon the plow hongen.

His cote was of a cloute that cary was y-called,

His hod was full of holes and his heer oute,

With his knopped schon clouted full thykke;

His ton toteden out as he the londe treddede,

His hosen overhongen his hokschynes on everiche a side,

A 1 beslombred in fen as he the plow folwede;

Twey myteynes, as mete maad all of cloutes;

The fyngers weren for-werd and ful of fen honged.

This wight waselede in the fen almost to the ancle,

Foure rotheren hym by-fom that feble were worthen;

Men myghte reknen ich a ryb so reufull they weren.

His wiif walked him with, with a longe gode,

In a cutted cote cutted full heyghe,

Wrapped in a wynwe-schete to weren hire fro weders,

Barfote on the bare iis that the blod folwede.

And at the londes ende lay a litell crom-bolle,

And theron lay a litell childe lapped in cloutes,

And tweyne of tweie yeres olde opon a-nother syde,

And alle they songen 0 songe that sorwe was to heren;

They crieden alle o cry,—a carefull note.

The sely man sighede sore, and seide: “children, beth stille!”

As I went by the way, weeping for sorrow, I saw a poor man hanging
on to the plough. His coat was of a coarse stuff which was called cary;
his hood was full of holes and his hair stuck out of it. As he trod the soil
his toes peered out of his worn shoes with their thick soles; his hose
hung about his hocks on all sides, and he was all bedaubed with mud as
he followed the plough. He had two mittens, made scantily of rough

1 The “rep-goose” appears constantly, as a bonne bouche during the
harvest—probably at the end of the work. See e.g. Cust . Rents , 56;
Cunningham, op. cit . 600; Kettering Compotus } 65, etc.

* Information kindly supplied by the late W. Hudson and Dr H. W.
Saunders. Cf. Min. Acc. 751/18-21, 843/31, 859/23, 918/3-17, etc.

8 See Rogers, Prices , 1, 289, or Six Centuries of Work and Wages , 170, for
his conclusions as to the “ income of a first-rate agricultural labourer”, which
he takes to be about £1. 155. 6 d. a year inclusive of money payments and
allowances. Compare also with the evidence above, p. 88, concerning the
incomings of a thirty-acre holder.

i86

MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

stuff, with worn-out fingers and thick with muck. This man bemired
himself in the mud almost to the ancle, and drove four heifers before
him that had become feeble, so that men might count their every rib
so “sorry looking they were”.

His wife walked beside him with a long goad in a shortened cote-
hardy looped up full high and wrapped in a winnowing-sheet to protect
her from the weather. She went barefoot on the ice so that the blood
flowed. And at the end of the row lay a little crumb-bowl, and therein
a little child covered with rags, and two two-year olds were on the other
side, and they all sang one song that was pitiful to hear: they all cried
the same cry—a miserable note. The poor man sighed sorely, and said
" Children be still ! fil

With the cry of these children in our ears we may conclude
our survey of the manorial servants. They have comparatively
little need of our pity: here and there a harsh master may have
driven them hard, or fed them with sheep dead from the murrain
and hastily salted down for their use, 2 but their lot in general
compared very favourably with all but the aristocracy of the
manorial peasantry. They had what few men of their class had—
comparatively little anxiety as to how they were to live from one
year’s end to another. The great court of the manor house
sheltered them, and the lord’s officials provided them with food
and drink, and enough spending silver to make them popular
at the village ale-house. Medieval life could offer little more to
men of villein stock who were “bom in the yoke of servitude”.

Mention has been made from time to time of the manorial
accounts, and these must now be considered. They were
generally returned by the reeve and it is possible that no part of
his duties caused him more trouble than did the compilation of
the annual accounts. The formidable nature of these is apparent
as soon as we glance at them, for they usually state in the
minutest detail every item of the manorial income and expendi¬
ture. It is not easy to explain how the unlettered reeve managed
to have all this information available. He relied, no doubt,
mainly on tallies and notches on barn-posts, aided by a cultivated
memory. There are many living who can recall remarkable in¬
stances of the ability of old shepherds and wagoners to account
for every detail of the property under their charge, although they
relied solely on their memories. I am told that in the early

1 Pierce the Ploughman's Crede , ed. Skeat (E.E.T.S.), 17, 1 . 420.

* Walter of Henley, 31; Fleta, 167.

THE MANORIAL ACCOUNTS 187

"eighties of last century, the largest tenant-farmer in Hertford¬
shire had an entirely illiterate bailiff, who came back every
market evening and dictated to his master, for hours at a time,
the most complicated details of the day’s offers and acceptances,
in as orderly a fashion as if he were reading from a book; and the
late Mr William Hudson was good enough to tell me of a
Sussex landowner whose bailiff “ could not write, and yet never
made a mistake in accounting for the number of faggots he sold
in a year. He notched them all on a door-post”. 1 So it must have
been with the reeves; for, although the Gloucester injunctions
order the reeves to keep careful tallies, and to enter the details
from time to time on rolls provided for the purpose, 2 such
methods were seldom adopted, but rough and ready means
better suited to semi- or wholly illiterate men who were in
charge.

A last survivor of such men is seen in “Ragged Ass Jack” as
described by Mr Ford Madox Ford in his Return to Yesterday .
Jack, he tells us, “could do anything (except write, and late in
life he taught himself to read)—patiently and to perfection:
thatcher, wagoner, shepherd, bricklayer, etc. He could keep
tallies and the most complicated accounts on notched sticks,
cutting with a bill-hook 1, 11, 111, iv, etc., as fast as you could
write them with a pen, and adding up quite as fast.” 3

Even if a few of them could have kept rough jottings, such as
are sometimes found sewn to the full account, 4 the actual accounts
would have been utterly beyond them, and we find that these
are the work of trained scribes who made a round of the manors
after Michaelmas for this purpose. One of the commonest
entries on the compoti records the scribe’s fee for his work, and
often the cost of the parchment. 5 It may well be, of course, that
where a lord had but two or three manors, the account was made
by the parish priest or his clerk. 6 Bishop Pecock, in the early
fifteenth century, advises parish priests to avoid “worldli offices

1 Cf. Hist. MSS. Com. v, 444, where the amount of com in a bam (1480)
was said to be scored on the door-post.

2 Glouc. Cart, in, 213 ff. 3 Op. cit. 153.

4 Econ . Hist. Rev. 1, 68.

8 Min. Acc. 987/24-8, 1052/6; Rogers, Prices, I, 95; 11, 620-1; Obed.

Rolls S. Szoitkin (Hants Rec. Soc.), 238, etc.

• Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 51.

188

MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

and rekenyngis in court or out of court”, 1 and we can under¬
stand how easy it was for the priest, as the only lettered man in
the village, to be called on to make the account if a professional
scribe were not available. The accounts, in general, followed a
set formula, so that from whatever part of England they come,
they have a strong family likeness, and specimen compoti
(accounts) were available for the unskilled. 2 Two qualifications
of their usefulness have to be made: they themselves sometimes
fall into confusion and repetition, thus furnishing no very
infallible guide to an inexperienced man; and they sometimes
quote figures which, though they may have been possible locally,
are very far from being generally applicable. 3

The general arrangement of the account starts by naming the
manor, the year of the king's reign, and the official who presents
the account, and then gives the several main items; first the
arrears from last year, then the rents of assize, of mills, etc.;
then the sales of com and stock, the perquisites of the court,
fines, heriots, etc. After this come the details of the expenditure,
and at the foot of the roll the balance is struck. On the back of the
roll the scribe enters an exact account of the produce of the
manor and how it has been consumed, as well as a detailed in¬
ventory of the livestock, down to the smallest items. Smyth, in
his Lives of the Berkeleys tells us that the accounts of that great
family were kept in such detail that they did not

scome to discend soe lowe, as to declare, what money was yearly made
by the sale of the locks, belts, and tags of the sheep (as well as of the
fleeces), of the hearbes of the garden, stubble from off the Come lands,
cropps and setts of withy’es of Osier rods, the Offall wood of old
hedges, of butter, cheese and milk, dung and soile, bran, nuts, wax,
Honey and the like. 4

In this they only followed what was the common custom through¬
out the whole country, wherever the lord found it necessary to
keep an account.

The reeve had not finished with the account once the clerk
had completed his task: he had yet to face the auditors. Large

1 Reule of Crysten Religioun (E.E.T.S.), 326.

2 See MS. Ee. i. i. f. 221 and f. 231 b in the University Library, Cambridge,
for a specimen compotus in great detail. Another in Dd. vii. 6, f. 58&.

2 This point was made by Prof. A. E. Levett, Econ. Hist. Rev. 1, 68.

4 Op. cit. 1, 156.

THE AUDITORS

189

landholders usually sent their auditors from manor to manor,
there to conduct on the spot a searching inquiry into the details
of the account. The unknown author of Seneschaucie says that the
lord ought to “ordain that the accounts be heard every year, but
not in one place but on all the manors [separately], for so can
one quickly know everything, and understand the profit and
loss...and then can the auditors take inquest of the doings
which are doubtful”. 1

We may see the steward of the Bishop of Chichester’s Sussex
manors (c. 1225) constantly thus engaged. On one occasion he
is unable to fulfil a command because he and another official are
making a round of the manors and auditing the accounts. 2
Before Michaelmas he is found writing to his master, and asking
for someone to be joined with him “as the feast of Saint Michael
is at hand, the season for hearing the accounts”. 3 As he gets no
answer from the Bishop, he writes again, urging that since “you
have directed me to come to you at London within 15 days of
Michaelmas, wherefore I should wish most freely to audit the
accounts first with some one of your household, so that I might
be able reasonably to answer about the proceeds of your
diocese”. 4

Walter of Henley and other writers give us considerable in¬
formation concerning the qualities and duties of a good auditor.
He has to be a faithful and prudent man, well versed in his pro¬
fession, and knowing all the points and details of the accounts,
and the many items of rents, outlays, returns, stock, etc. they
must contain. He must hear the plaints and wrongs of everybody
who complains of any of the lord’s officers, and make an enquiry
into any doubtful matters and fine those who have been careless
with the lord’s property. 5

1 Walter of Henley, 105, 107. Cf. with this, however, the practice of the
monks of Canterbury, who refuse a plea to examine the accounts in situ ,
since, they say, “We cannot do that without great disparagement of our
position, because from old time it has always been our custom that our
sergeants from all parts of England should come to Canterbury to our
chequer, there to hand in their accounts, and this in the presence of certain of
our brethren”. Liu Cant. (R.S.), 1, 481 (1332).

a Sussex Arch. Soc. in, 54. 8 Ibid. 65. 4 Ibid . 70.

5 Op. cit. 105 ff. The auditors stayed at the manor house (see Higham
Ferrers , 112, for the “Auditor’s Chamber” at the Castle), and the accounts
regularly contain items detailing the expenses of their visit. See Higham Fer¬
rers , 56,162; and cf. Davenport, op. cit. xxxvi; Min. Acc. 843/29,1078/17, etc.

MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

190

The auditors were men of considerable standing: rarely the
lord himself, but more generally trusted officials; or, in the case
of a religious house, the cellarer, accompanied by one or two
senior colleagues. 1 They carried with them the rolls of the manor
for previous years, and sometimes even the extent or the customal
of the manor, as they are advised to do by Walter of Henley, 2 and
the reeve must have found them possessed of a seemingly un¬
canny knowledge of the details of the estate in the past, as they
checked his return by reference to previous figures and the details
given in the customal. 3 It is very common to find an entry in the
neat hand of the scribe struck out and a new set of figures en¬
tered in the heavy and less practised hand of the auditor. Again
and again the reeve starts his account by admitting that he is
twenty shillings in arrears. The auditor consults the balance
struck at the foot of the previous roll, and firmly alters it to fifty
shillings or eighty shillings as the case may be. 4 The reeve
accounts for some 3391 day-works, but the auditors refuse to
allow so scanty a return “ because the aforesaid total was found
false by 382 day-works, as appears by the extent [and therefore]
the said total is corrected and made true, namely 3773 day-
works”. 5

In the same way every item is closely scrutinised, and the
auditors cross-question the reeve concerning every detail which
seems unusual, and cause him to deliver up to them his evidences
as detailed in the compotus . 6 At times the reeves have a melan¬
choly tale to tell of how the lord’s property has been taken from
them, as when they complain that “the Earl of Lancaster’s men
as they travelled with the Queen through Gloucestershire, took
away from the manors of the lord of Berkeley so many ducks and
geese that all their eggs and their broods for the year were lost.

1 Reg. Rqffense, 65, 66; Cart. Glouc. 1, xc; Wore. Priory Reg. xxxviii;
Reynolds' Register , 18, 20; Davenport, op. cit. xxxvi; Archaeologia , lviii,
353> etc.; and see Lit. Cant. 11,311, for letter of appointment of auditors. Their
office and authority was recognised by the second Statute of Westminster,
cap. 11.

2 Op. cit. 7.

3 See Min. Acc . 1004/10, where the auditors refer constantly to the extent
in going through the account, and correct it accordingly.

4 Min. Acc . 859/24, 25, 26, etc.; 918/8; 987/21, 26; 1030/5.

6 Comb. Antiq. Soc. Proc. xxvn, 172 ; cf. Ely Rolls , Barton, 21/2 Ed. III.

* See Min. Acc. 987/24 for a most interesting example of the care with
which suspected items were investigated. Cf. Higham Ferrers , 60.

BALANCING THE ACCOUNT

191

They also broke open their bams and took wheat and com”—
and the reeves ask to be exonerated. 1 Sometimes the reeve paid out
money by authorisation from his superiors, and this authorisa¬
tion he has to produce before he can avoid being charged with
the debt. 2 Generally, however, he does not produce actual
letters, but hands over his various tallies or his little parchment
“bills”, which he has taken care to claim before parting with his
lord’s goods to any man. 3 Once he has been foolish enough to
allow grain or stock to go without a written order from a superior
authority, or without first claiming a “bill” or tally from the
purchaser, it will go hard with him before he can persuade the
auditors that he has not made away with his lord’s goods. 4

So the accountants worked through the roll; here adding a few
small items either omitted or sold since the account was drawn
up, 5 there reducing a charge which they consider excessive. 6
They account for items forgotten in the previous year’s account, 7
and make such allowances as they think justifiable. 8 At last they
come to an end; the balance is struck, and the year’s profit or loss
stands revealed. This was an anxious moment for the reeve: if
there were a balance he was called on to produce the money, but
often he had not yet demanded it all, or had failed to collect it
when he applied. On the other hand, a deficit on the year’s
working was an unpleasant matter for him and his fellows, since
his lord’s livelihood depended on the successful farming of his
manors, and a bad year was liable to lead to increased demands
and a tightening up of conditions in the coming year.

In general, however, there was a balance to the lord’s credit,
and the reeve was held strictly accountable for this. The auditors
had discretionary powers, and would, at times, forgive a debt
because of the “weakness and poverty” 9 of the reeve, or as a
matter of special grace of the lord. 10 Most reeves were not so
fortunate, and their debt was firmly fastened upon them, and

1 Lives of the Berkeleys , 1, 286.

8 Min. Acc . 936/15; Cunningham, op. cit. 600.

3 Min. Acc. 367/1139; 870/9, 10; 1017/14; 1280/5.

4 Davenport, op. cit. 25 n. 3, where a reeve seeks an allowance for payments

made sine writ or tally, and also Reynolds' Register , 44, 45, 51.

6 Min. Acc. 918/4. 6 Ibid. 913/16.

7 Ibid. 1017/8. 8 Crawley , 273.

8 Obed. Rolls S. Switkin , 150. 10 Min . Acc. 1024/19.

MANORIAL ADMINISTRATION

192

formed the first item (frequently misstated, as we have seen) on
the next year's account. Whether it were the same reeve or
another, there it appeared on record, and we see it slowly dwind¬
ling as, bit by bit, it is accounted for by the debtor. Thus at
Stevenage, in Hertfordshire, in 1284, a sometime reeve made two
payments—one of 105*. 6 \d. and another of 5s.—being part of the
arrears on his compotus of the previous year; while during 1285
he paid a further 20s. 1 Sometimes the lord was not so sure of his
man, and in such cases he took care to demand adequate sureties.
One reeve has to find twenty-five pledges that he will pay up his
arrears within the next year sine ulteriore dilatione , 2 while another
outgoing reeve finds four sureties that he will pay twenty marks
of silver (£13. 6 s. 8 d.) of the arrears due from him on his account
within the next nine months. 3 Even more severe measures might
be taken, for we read of Roger Losse who was put in the stocks
“for arrears of his accounts and not for any other cause", 4 while
the auditors of the monks of Canterbury handed over one of their
bailiffs to the Sheriff of Kent to be kept in the county gaol. 6

As we have already seen, on many manors when a manorial
officer went out of office he was given a document either acquit¬
ting him entirely, or stating what he owed his lord, and setting
forth exactly what stock and grain there was left on the manor. 6
A duplicate of this was sewn on the compotus for the year, where
it might be referred to when necessary. 7 Once the reeve had re¬
ceived this chirograph acquittance he could, if not reappointed,
safely retire again into his humble obscurity, from whence he
had been drawn to play so important a part in the affairs of his
rural community.

1 Min . Acc. 870/9, 10; cf. 859/23, 930/5, 998/25.

2 Ibid. 1070/8; cf. 1120/11.

8 Hales Rolls , 259; Min. Acc. 1078/13, where men are given three years in
which to pay arrears.

4 Derby Arch. Soc. xxxi, 122. 6 Lit . Cant . 11, 168.

6 See above, p. 166. 7 Min. Acc. 1030/8, 1070/8, 1297/23.

The Manor Court

CHAPTER VIII

THE MANOR COURT

AND he owes suit of court from three weeks to three weeks.
f\ Such is the formula that concludes the list of services
JL Jl. owed by many thousands of tenants, and its due fulfil¬
ment was often one of the most irksome and difficult of duties.
The Manor Court, as its name implies, was held by the lord or
one of his officials, and whether his jurisdiction was feudal or
manorial in its origin we need not enquire. 1 It was a court with
varying powers: on some manors the lord is seen to be dealing
solely with his villeins and generally only with matters arising
from the economic administration of his manor, w r hile on others
not only villeins but free men are in question, and not only
economic matters are transacted, but criminal charges are in¬
vestigated, fines and levies are raised, and the keeping of the
King's peace, and other matters which would seem to belong to
the Crown are dealt with. By the late thirteenth and the four¬
teenth century, lawyers were trying to tidy up this confusion of
functions: the Quo Warranto proceedings investigated the juris¬
dictions of lords of manors, and the King's lawyers found every¬
where that men were exercising rights to which they had no
claim whatsoever but ancient seisin, or in plain English—en¬
croachment. Lords in their manorial courts had become
possessed of franchises which the lawyers said belonged only to
the King: the view of frank-pledge and the right to hold a court
leet, for example, were widely claimed, but few could show any
document which gave them such rights.

Even greater rights were sometimes claimed. The Quo
Warranto rolls afford us an immense body of evidence, much of
it going to prove that on innumerable manors the King’s powers
over life and limb, as well as over lesser matters, had been usurped.
Some lords, it is true, could produce charters in which “large
and general terms” seemed to convey considerable powers to
them, but the general tendency from the twelfth century onward

* See Selden Soc. II, xxxixf. for Maitland’s discussion of this point.

i 3 -a

x 9 6 THE MANOR COURT

was for the royal charter to “except those things which belong
to the King’s crown”, or to “ except murder, treasure trove, rape
and breach of the peace”, or to reserve the King’s rights by
some terms or other. Wise lords took care to renew their charters
and to get what definition they could into their terms, for the
lawyers were more and more objecting to the vagueness of the
old terminology, and asking for those powers to be extinguished
which were only claimed thereby. By the thirteenth century,
therefore, a position had been reached in which

the prevailing doctrine seems to have been that sake and soke did
nothing, that toll and team did nothing, that infangenethef and
outfangenethef merely gave the right to hang “hand-having thieves”,
“thieves taken with mainour” {cum manuopere ), while the other old
words could not be trusted to do much, though they might serve to
define, and possibly to increase the ordinary powers of a feudal court. 1

Doctrine notwithstanding, the powers traditionally attached to
these terms were still being exercised, and the serf on many
thousands of manors was still liable to seizure and punishment
under such quasi-legal rights. Let us take as an example the
question of hanging for theft. What were the rights of any lord
here? Some had, or thought they had, clear rights, in so far that
their charter gave them infangenethef and sometimes outfangene¬
thef*' the one giving them power to hang a thief caught on their
own lands, the other power to hang him, wherever he was taken.
But there was a proviso—the thief must be taken “hand-having”
or “back-bearing”, he must be prosecuted by the loser of the
goods, and further the coroner must be present. 3 Thus far the
law; but we have little need for long search in the records to find
that many lords did not bother overmuch about the details: the
man was a thief, and he had been captured—where and how
seemed of small consequence to the non-legal mind.

Thus we find the Abbot of Crowland is accused and convicted
of han ging a man who stole sixteen eggs, although the theft
occurred outside his liberty; 4 the Bishop of Lincoln similarly
arrested five men outside his jurisdiction, and in due course they

1 Pollock and Maitland, Hist. Eng. Lazo , i, 579.

* Outfangenethef was much less common, however.

8 Britton, 56,57; Bracton, 137,150-154; Holdsworth, op. dt. n, 102 andm,
320 for further references.

4 P.Q.W. 519.

THE CORONER

197

were hanged. 1 The brief entry after such trials in the Court Rolls
runs, “Let him have a priest”, and the marginal note suspensus est
tells the rest of the tale. But the power to erect a gallows and to
hang criminals was essentially a royal prerogative, and the Crown
slowly tried to take back into its own hands privileges which had
been usurped or claimed by an over-generous interpretation of
charter rights and the like. For it must be remembered that the
administration of justice was one of the ways of making a profit
out of one’s possessions: both the land and its holders were
subject to the law of the lord. Hence the lawyer’s proverb:
“Justice is great profit”, and hence, to a considerable extent, the
desire of all lords to acquire greater privileges which would en¬
able them to exact fines for a wider range of offences and matters,
or to take for themselves the goods and chattels of condemned
men. 2

The manorial jurisdiction was checked to some extent by the
presence of the royal coroner, for all cases involving death
necessitated his presence. Even if the thief were caught in the
act he must not be hanged in the absence of the King’s coroner,
as the Prior of Bodmin found in 1313. The transcript of the
proceedings from the Year Book 3 is so instructive that it is given
here in some detail. A presentment w T as made by the tithing-
man that in Bodmin a thief had been taken with the chattels on
him, and that he had been hanged. Whereupon the justices
ordered the suitors of that court to attend and to produce the
record relating to those matters. They came and said that on a
certain day, etc., there came to Bodmin market-place one John
that there found in the possession of Robert a certain horse which
had been stolen from his house the previous night. And John
raised the hue and cry, and in consequence both were attached
(i.e. ordered to appear at the Manor Court). And the Prior of
Bodmin, lord of the franchise, straightway caused a court to be
summoned, and John accused Robert, and Robert confessed.
Whereupon the steward of the court ordered him to be hanged.
When the prior came before Justice Spigumel after some enquiry

1 P.Q.XV. 43 a; cf. V.C.H. Rutland , 1, 172.

2 Lit. Cant. I, 501.

3 Y.B. Eyre of Kent > 6-7 Ed. II (Selden Soc.), 104; cf. Y.B. Ed. I (R.S.),

THE MANOR COURT

198

he admitted that he only had the right of infangenethef , and that
this offence took place outside his territory. Further, when
pressed he also admitted that he proceeded to judgment without
the presence of the coroner. “Were you entitled to do this in
the absence of the Coroner?” asked Spigurnel. “No”, was the
answer, and the justice ordered the prior to await judgment for
so grave an offence, for he had not only hanged a man for an
offence which was outside his jurisdiction, but also had done this
without sending for the coroner, so that a proper record might
have been made of the proceedings.

To overcome difficulties such as this, lords tried to get per¬
mission to appoint their own coroners, but this privilege was but
sparingly granted. 1 When we consider the difficulty of exercising
any supervision over the way in which lords would make use of
such a privilege, this is understandable. In general, the King
preferred to leave matters in charge of the royal coroners, of
whom there were several in each county. Their business was to
see that the royal rights were not infringed, and that the goods
of felons were not kept by the manorial lords, but duly paid over
to the Crown. They were charged to attend all the sessions of the
itinerant justices, and to bring with them their records for in¬
spection. Hence, in part, their importance on the manor: their
account of the proceedings was held to be authoritative, for their
court was “a court of record” 2 —while the manorial court as
such could make no such important claim. The manorial courts,
however, had often acquired (legally or illegally) prescriptive
rights, especially in respect of certain royal franchises, and were
not easily supervised and controlled.

By the late thirteenth century there were two main types of
manorial jurisdiction in existence. The first of these arose directly
from the lord’s ownership of the manor—it gave him certain
powers to administer his estate and to control his tenants. The
lawyers at the end of the sixteenth century made a distinction
between the court baron held for the free tenants of the manor,
and the court customary or Hallmote held for the unfree tenants,
but this distinction does not seem to have existed in actual prac-

1 P.Q.W. 24, 92,12X, 125,148,241, etc.; Rot . Pari . 1,152 and 11, 260; Rot.
Hund. i, 119 and n, 169, 280; and see Statutes of the Realm, 38 Ed. Ill, c. 6.

* See above and also Eyre of Kent, 133 ; Bracton, 11, 511.

MANORIAL JURISDICTION 199

tice during the Middle Ages. 1 Secondly, there was the jurisdic¬
tion conferred on the lord by the right to hold the view of frank¬
pledge and to hold a court leet. These two jurisdictions were
regalities—that is, they were properly held only by prescriptive
grant from the King: otherwise they were only within the compe¬
tence of royal jurisdiction as at the Hundred Court and the sheriff's
tourn. They were originally quite separate things, but in general,
and in the course of time, the two things became associated one
with another, and the court, at one and the same sitting, held
both the view and leet. To add to the confusion the very same
court not infrequently dealt with matters strictly belonging to the
lord’s seigneurial rights, so that the Court Rolls contain entries
covering every possible variety of action. Often the two types of
jurisdiction were kept separate on the rolls, although this was by
no means universal. It was the business of the thirteenth-century
lawyer to explain this state of affairs, so that “to whatever quarter
we look the law seems to be emerging into clearness out of a
confused and contentious past. The courts are drawing a line
between franchises and feudal rights, but it is no easy task, and
violence must be done to the facts and theories of former
times.” 2

But while all this is the legitimate concern of the legal and
constitutional historians, it is not strictly our business. The
peasant, whether rich or poor, and (with reservations) whether
bond or free, was bound to attend the Manor Court, and it was
a matter of chance with what powers he found it endowed. In
contiguous manors the most unequal conditions could prevail,
as we have seen. In the one the lord contented himself with
strictly economic matters, and left it to the Hundred Court or
the sheriff’s toum to deal with other things which a less scrupulous
lord dealt with constantly in his court hard by. We must not hope
to find any uniformity of administration in the various manorial
courts: we must not indeed say “Such and such a court has
such and such a competence”, but “ So-and-so has such and such
powers”. A peasant was fortunate or unfortunate in so far as
his lot brought him under the control of a mild or a grasping
lord, a weak or a strong. So long as we bear this in mind we can

1 Selden Soc. n, lxiv; and see Villainage , 362, 364.

* Selden Soc. n. aodv.

200

THE MANOR COURT

safely proceed to examine the workings of the court as it
flourished in the time of the three Edwards.

We have seen that the suitor was bound by ancient formula to
attend from three weeks to three weeks, and this has led many
writers to assert that the courts were normally held at this brief
interval. 1 The records themselves do not substantiate this, but
show a bewildering variety of practice; indeed it would not be
hard to show that on some manors it was the practice for the
court to be held once, or twice or thrice a year; on others there
was a court every three weeks—or even more frequently! Un¬
doubtedly local conditions determined the matter, and in many
instances the amalgamation of the seigneurial court with the
court leet and view of frank-pledge 2 made it convenient and
economical to hold but two courts a year. Then again, many
manors were held by great lords, or by ecclesiastical corporations,
who found it impossible to attend in person, but were repre¬
sented by their steward who came from time to time to deal with
the agricultural and economic state of the manor, as well as to
preside over its legal proceedings. Hence, as Maitland notes,
“We may follow the Steward as he makes his tour twice a year
throughout England, carrying his rolls with him”; 3 and there is
much to be said for the view that the greater landowners were
finding this bi-annual court a perfectly satisfactory compromise. 4
The reason why lords constantly made use of the phrase “from
three weeks to three weeks” is quite understandable. So long as
this was on record, he could afford to interpret it as leniently as
he wished: he knew the lawyers would uphold him if it ramp to
question—as indeed they did. 6

But whether the court sat frequently or seldom it was essential
that the suitors should know exactly when they had to attend,

1 Before 1234 courts were commonly held fortnightly, but an ordinance of
that year said they should not be held more frequently than at three-weekly
intervals. See Ann, Dunst. (R.S.), 139-140. This ordinance was not strictly
obeyed, however.

* Thes ® had t0 be heId yearly by the second reissue of the Great
Charter of 1217, cap. 42.

Selden Soc. n, 3 J and cf. Collectanea, Wore. Hist. Soc. IQ12. p. i 2 K m
Crondal Records , 148 n.

A ‘ But . n £te VinogradofFs verdict: “Cases like that of the manors of the
Abbey of Ramsey, m which the courts are summoned only twice a year, are
quite exceptional.” Villainage, 366.

* See Page, Cropland Estates , 39, and the authorities quoted there.

THE OBLIGATION OF ATTENDANCE 201

and various methods were used to ensure this. On some manors
the date of the next court was known before the court then sitting
was adjourned: 1 on others it was always held on a definite day,
as at Forncett and elsewhere. 2 In such cases no warning appears
to have been necessary, unless, as we learn from an early seven¬
teenth-century cartulary, the day of the court was altered. When
this was necessary on the manors of the lordship of Gower eight
days’ warning had to be given. 3 In general, however, there seems
to have been a good deal of variation, but here we must again
remember that the majority of our records concern the manors of
great lords or corporations. It is probable that smaller lords who
held their own courts in person found it convenient to hold them
on a given day. On the other hand, lords who were forced to use
deputies had to consider the most economical way of proceeding,
and hence their courts were not held with the same regularity.
The best they can do is to give “reasonable summons”, or three
days’ notice, 4 or even only one day or one night’s warning. 5 The
full harshness of the lord’s will is shown on a Gloucester Abbey
manor, where the serf is bound to appear on the morrow, even if
he is not warned until the middle of the night. 6

Bond and free were not always treated the same in this respect.
The free man was much more difficult to control, and the rule
seems to have been that if the lord wanted service of court he had
to say so definitely when he granted the land. Bracton lays it
down that

in the absence of special stipulation the tenant is bound to attend his
Lord’s court for what are considered matters of royal concern, but
only for those: he is bound to attend when a writ of right is to be tried,
when a thief is to be judged, or when there is any business which
touches the King’s peace.... But if the Lord wants more suit than
this, if for example he wishes that his tenant should do suit from three
weeks to three w T eeks, he must expressly bargain for it. 7

The Statute of Marlborough (1267) finally settled the matter:

1 Hales Rolls , 342, 521, 534.

2 Davenport, op. cit. lxix; Abbots Langley , passim; (Clare) C.R. 171/45;
(Claret) C.R. 171/48.

3 Gower Surveys, 184; cf. 172, 300 op. cit.

4 Ramsey Cart . ill, 62; Blount, op. cit. 304.

5 Mon. Exon . 254 b; Page, op. cit. 9.

6 Glouc. Cart, in, 208.

7 Selden Soc, n, xlviii, quoting Bracton, f. 35, 35 b, 37.

202

THE MANOR COURT

no freeholder is bound to suit at his lord’s court unless this was
imposed on him by the terms of his charter, or was done before
King Henry went to Brittany in the year 1230. 1 It is for this
reason that monastic cartularies such as that of Glastonbury or of
Gloucester or of Ramsey contain so many entries exacting suit of
court of various degrees of severity from the free man. Thus at
Glastonbury in the thirteenth century one free man owes suit at
all the courts; another comes but twice a year and otherwise is
quit; others come to strengthen the court should there be thieves
to be tried, or any difficult business to be transacted, while others
owe no service, and so forth. 2

The necessary notice was given in a variety of ways. Some¬
times an announcement was made in church, 3 while on some
manors notice was given at the tenant’s houses by a beadle or
bailiff, or sergeant, or even by a peasant whose property was
charged with this obligation. 4 On a Sussex manor of the Bishop
of Chichester two cottagers are responsible for summoning a
larger holder, and he in turn has to summon the whole of the
lord’s tenants when a court is to be held. 5 In general, no doubt,
if there were any uncertainty it was the bailiff or reeve who
warned the peasants when he received his orders from the lord
or his steward. Thus we have entries of payments to men
carrying messages summoning the court, as well as letters sent
to the local bailiff giving him such orders. 6 One of these runs
thus:

A. of C. the steward of Sir P. to all the bailiffs throughout the
honour of Clare. For that we purpose to begin our general circuit on
Thursday next, we command you that each of you do cause his court
to be summoned for the days named below to meet us. Thou bailiff of
A. on Thursday after the feast of S. Hilary. Thou bailiff of B. on the

1 52 Hen. Ill, c. 9.

2 Glas. Rent . 56, 115, 128, 134, 144, 152, 159, 190, 191, 225; and cf. the
instances from Gloucester and Ramsey given by Maitland in Selden Soc. 11,
li. Any other cartulary will show a similar state of affairs, and see below, p.211.

8 Anc . Deeds , A. 13162; Paston Letters, ed. Gairdner, No. 823.

^ 4 York Inquis . 1. 51; Gower Surveys , 184; Anc. Deeds , A. 13162. A late-
sixteenth-century guide to the keeping of a manor states (p. 18) that “reason¬

able warning ought to be given to the tenants, not to the person or house of
every one of them, but at the church or such other accustomed place”, Harl.
MS. 6714, published by the Manorial Society in 1909.

& Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 120 (Stretham, 1374).

6 Davenport, op . cit. xli, lxv; Camb. Univ. Lib. MSS. Ee. i. i, f. 2336.

THE MEETING PLACE 203

following Saturday. Thou bailiff of C. on the following Monday.
Farewell. 1

While it was generally agreed by law that the court must be
held somewhere upon the manor itself, and at a fixed place, 2 local
custom determined the exact site. Some were held out of doors,
and Sir Laurence Gomme has well emphasised the importance
of this fact in his attempt to find in the early village communities
the forerunners of the manorial court. 3 At Knyttington, Berks,
in the reign of Edward I, the court was held “in a certain green
place over against the house of Hugh de Gardin when it was fine,
and in wet weather, by leave of the bailiff in the manor house or
in that of one of the tenants”. 4 In Essex, the Moulsham Hall
Manor Court was held outside the manor house under the Court
Oak, 5 and in the same county at Little Leigh it was held on
Court Hill. 6 “At Eastbourne, the name of Motcombe Lane prob¬
ably marks the hollow where the moots were held”, 7 while the
court of the Abbot of St Albans was held “under the ash-tree in
the middle court of the abbey”. 8 Other usual places were the
lord’s hall (from which is popularly derived the term Hallmote),
or even in the church itself. 9 Myrc, in his Instructions for Parish
Priests , tells them not to allow the holding of courts in the sanc¬
tuary, 10 but despite this it was frequently done. 11 In view of this
evidence it is a little difficult to accept VinogradofFs sweeping
assertion: “ In the feudal period the right place to hold the court
was the manorial hall. ” 12 The “ right place” was clearly the place
where long custom had decreed the meeting of the people should
be held, and anything else was an assertion of the will of the lord.

When once the court had been summoned it was always neces¬
sary for every serf to attend. Unless he had permission to absent
himself or sent a sufficient excuse for non-attendance, he was

I Selden Soc. IV, 70. 2 Glanvill, op.cit. f. 19.

* The Village Community , 264. 4 Paroch. Antiq . 474.

5 Essex Review , xx, 100.

6 Ibid. xxv, 4. For other examples see Blount, op. cit. 238-9; Hone, op. cit .
131; V.C.H. Durham , 1, 299; Reg. Malm. (R.S.), II, 88, etc.

7 Med. Village , 70.

8 M. Paris, Chron. Majora (R.S.), vi, 438; and Roy. Hist. Soc. Trans. 4th
series, vii, 52, for Miss Levett’s interesting account of this court.

9 Wakefield Rolls, 1, 71, 148.

10 Op. cit. p. 11.

II This question is discussed at length in S. O. Addy’s Church and Manor.

12 Villainage , 367.

THE MANOR COURT

204

punished, usually by a fine. 1 He had the consolation on many
manors of knowing that his presence there was reckoned as one
of the works he was forced to render weekly to his lord, although
on some manors he was not allowed to count it as such if the
court sat on a holy-day. 2 The attendance of the free man, as we
have seen, was another matter. His compulsory appearance was
generally a question of the bargain struck between him and his
lord when his land was granted to him. But certain considera¬
tions other than the strict legal requirements should not be
ignored. It must be remembered that the Manor Court fre¬
quently exercised both police and criminal jurisdiction as well as
private, and to this both serf and free were amenable. Then, again,
many free men held villein tenements and were bound to attend
to answer any matters touching them. We must also remember
that the freeholders were concerned (to some degree) in the
stinting of the commons and in the ordinary agricultural arrange¬
ments, and these were generally discussed at the meetings of the
court. For these reasons, therefore, despite the dangers (perhaps
more theoretical than actual) which the free man ran in presenting
himself at court, it seems probable that he often did attend, and
that by so doing his personal status did not suffer in the eyes
either of his lord or of his unfree companions. 3

As we come closer to the actual working of the Manor Courts
we must remember that, while they all conformed to a general
pattern, each had its own particularities and customs. The
thirteenth-century How to hold Pleas and Courts says that “those
who plead or have to hold courts... should know the customs of
that.. .court or manor, and the franchises pertaining to the
premises, for laws and customs differ in divers places”. 4 A
number of practical guides to help those whose duty it was to
hold courts had appeared in the thirteenth century, and these be¬
came particularly notable in the sixteenth century and onwards,
when lawyers made further efforts to establish some uniformity

1 See Durham Halmote or Hales Rolls , passim,

2 Ramsey Cart. 1, 464; Suffolk Inst. Arch, in, 237; V.C.H. Hants , v, 414;
Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 15, 23, 44, etc. See above, p. 114.

3 For discussion of the view held by Coke and others that the presence of
free men was necessary in order to constitute a court, see Selden Soc. II,
lxiii, and Villainage , 387-9.

4 Selden Soc. iv, 68.

THE ESSOINS

205

of practice, and even in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries
the stream did not dry up. Nevertheless, despite all these efforts
to achieve a common system, as Professor Hearnshaw writes,
“not only is medieval leet jurisdiction extremely nebulous as to
its circumference, but also it is uncertain even as to its centre”. 1
With this caution in mind let us turn to examine the proceedings
of a Manor Court towards the end of the thirteenth century, so
far as they were recorded by the scribe on the Court Rolls.

The court was presided over by the lord, or by one of his
senior officials, and we have a good deal of evidence to suggest
what a stir his coming made in the village. 2 As he took his place
on the dais, with his clerk by his side, silence was called for by
the usher or beadle, who then with his single “ Oyez” if it were
only a court for manorial business, or his triple “Oyez”, if it
were a leet court for graver business, commanded all those whose
duty it was to be present to draw near. 3 The proceedings then
began, and item by item was taken down by the clerk, and many
such documents have survived. 4 If we turn to the roll of the
court of the Abbot of Halesowen we find that it opens with the
entry: “Essoniatus. Ricardus de Linaker de communi per
Johannem filium Johannis” 5 6 —that is Richard Linaker by means
of John excused himself from attendance for common service of
court. A message, either verbal or written, had to be produced
on behalf of the absentee, and this absence was enrolled by the
clerk and protected the man against fine for absence.

It appears that an essoin did not lie or could be objected to for
several reasons. If the suitor had two matters before the court, each
must be mentioned in the message.... At one court the same man is
essoined against three separate matters by three separate essoiners....
An essoin must be for some good reason, not sent for mere caprice;
two men were fined for being seen in the neighbourhood of the court
after they had been essoined... .A suitor was allowed three essoins,

1 Leet Jurisdiction, 65. For a list of works on leet jurisdiction, and “How
to hold a Court”, see pp. 29-42.

* Ault, op. cit . 145, 146; Holdsworth, op. cit. 1, 592.

3 J. Wilkinson, The Office and Authority of Coroners , etc. 1651, 161. The
triple “ Oyez ” of the crier, or of the beadle in a Quarter Sessions* Court is a
survival of this.

* See, for example, the rolls listed on the Public Record Office Calendar,

or the British Museum Catalogue of MSS.

6 Hales Rolls, 379 (1297).

206

THE MANOR COURT

after which he must appear or he made default; and the number of
his essoins is indicated in the rolls by the figures, j°, ij°, iij°. When he
appeared he justified the previous essoins, and all was then in order. 1

Probably early in the proceedings the jury—or juries—were
sworn in: indeed on the Ramsey manors of the thirteenth century
this was always the first business. The presence of these juries
and the problems they present will demand a great deal of our
attention, but nevertheless this must not be allowed to obscure
the fact that behind them was the whole body of the court, and
that it was to this that they reported, and that it was the court
that made the final dooms. We can go a good deal farther in
asserting this to-day than Maitland could nearly fifty years ago.
Thanks to the publication of some excellent series of Court
Rolls of the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries it has been
possible to make much more detailed and extensive investiga¬
tions than were possible then, and to give chapter and verse for
the tentative views Maitland expressed in his often-quoted
Introduction to the Selden Society volume of Select Pleas in
Manorial Courts . There he summed up his conclusions thus:

We may believe that even the customary tenants, even the bom
villans, were or had been entitled to the judgment, not merely of the
lord’s steward, but of the manorial curia ; we even hear a distinct
claim of villan tenants to have the judgment of their neighbours....
When, too, we consider that even the king’s courts gave the villan an
action against all but his lord, and that the freeholders and customary
holders of the manor must often have been involved in the same dis¬
putes, we shall have some difficulty in believing that the tenants in
villanage had no judge in the manor court save the lord’s steward. 2

Maitland was able to show that for freehold tenants, or on
ancient demesne, or at the court of a fair, it was not for the lord’s
steward to make the judgments, but he is forced to add

Elsewhere the position of the curia is less clear because it seems to
discharge many functions: now it judges, now it presents, now it

1 Hales Rolls, Intro. xxvii-ix with full references. It is worth noting that there
seems to be some doubt at times as to a serf’s essoining, as at Ingoldmells in
1291, when it is said, “the essoin does not lie because A. holds bond land”.
See p. 2 Ingoldmells Court Rolls. The whole law of essoins, however, was
very complicated. See Hales Rolls , xxviii-ix, and Selden Soc. 11, 67, for
examples, and Kitchin’s Le Court Leete (1651 ed.), pp. 187-93, for much
information and law.

* Op. cit. Ixx.

THE “DOOMS”

207

serves as a jury of trial. Imitation of the royal courts seems to be
transfiguring it; the admission of trial by jury, of presentments by
jury, will hardly assort with the maintenance of the old principle that
“facere judicia” is the function of the suitors, with the old rule,
“Curia domini debet facere judicium et non dominus.” l

There can be no doubt that Maitland was right in his general
conclusions, and that slowly the legal position of the villein was
being debased by one means or another. But, at least till the end
of the thirteenth century, we have good reason to see him still as
the maker of dooms in his Manor Court. The actual terminology
of the Court Rolls is often not so clear as we could wish, and we
are often forced to interpret what was at best a brief statement
only meant to put on record the findings of the court. Much that
was common practice in the court is abbreviated or omitted, and
we have to reconstruct from very imperfect data. Nevertheless,
it is worth making the attempt—incomplete and hazardous
though it must be. To begin with, an examination of any
thirteenth-century rolls shows the scribes constantly speaking of
the decision of the court in such a way that all present are
clearly indicated. At Hales, for example, entries such as “per
■considerationem curie” 2 tell us very little that is definite, but we
come a little closer when we read that “Dicit tota curia quod
Edithia quondam uxor Henrici Trappe fidelis est et immunis ab
omni culpa latrocinii et ideo consideravit tota curia quod recuperat
terram suam post diem et annum. ” 3 Here it is clear that it is the
whole body of the suitors who give what we should call the
verdict, and also go on to give judgment, and it is worthy of
note that the scribe reporting the proceedings thought so too,
for in the margin, against the proceedings, he puts the word
“Judicium”.

Take another example: “W. de T. venit et petit unam vaccam
fuscam que inventa fuit in custodia domini de adventicio et
probavit earn suam esse et suum esse catallum sexta manu. Et
ideo per considerationem totius curie et in presentia eiusdem
predicta vacca ei liberata fuit.” 4 Here W. de T., by the oaths of
six persons, convinced the whole court that the cow was his, and

1 Op . cit . lxviii, quoting Mummenta Gildhallae , i, 66.

2 Hales Rolls , 41.

3 Ibid . 57; cf. 17, 25, 28, 54, 56, 60, etc.

4 Ibid. 403 (1300).

208

THE MANOR COURT

by their ruling, and in their presence, it was delivered up to
him. What, then, is meant by the term tota curia ? It cannot mean
anything but all those present owing suit of court, whether bond
or free. When a verdict is wanted from free men they know how
to ask for it, and it is enrolled as such. “ Omnes libere tenentes
dicunt per suum sacramentum quod...”, 1 or “Ad magnam
curiam per sacramentum liberorum hominum inquiratur de
concelamento villatarum de Oldebure... ”. 2 On the other hand
a verdict of serfs is equally clearly indicated: 1 ‘ Omnes nativi dicunt
de eorum consuetudine...” ; 3 here it is a matter of the custom
of’ the manor affecting serf-holdings, and this is not a matter
for “tota curia”, but for “omnes nativi”—and the record
says so.

Tota curia may be expressed in the record in other ways: we
find it termed communitas totius manerii , 4 or tota communitas
mile , 5 if it is meant to include everyone on the manor, just as it is
limited to tota villata de Romesle , 6 or the like, if it is only the
inhabitants of one of the townships of the manor that is in
question. So strong was the prevailing opinion that the court
makes the dooms at Hales and elsewhere in the thirteenth
century, that we find decisions postponed if it is thought that
the court is not representative enough, or that it is too thinly
attended. As an example of the first we may take an entry of
1299: “Omnes homines tam liberi quam nativi summoniantur
pro afforciamento [curiae] pro judicio reddendo de villata de
Oldebure que concelavit de tenemento quam W. Thedrich
tenuit de domino W. Fokeram.” 7 Here we see an attempt on the
part of the officials to get every member of the court present to
discuss the backsliding of the men of one of the vills. Again,
paucity of suitors often led to an adjournment. A good example
occurs in 1293 when four men were charged with defaults which
they denied, and placed themselves on the judgment of the
court. “Et quod [quia ?] curia tenuis est judicium ponitur in
respectu usque ad proximam curiam. Et ideo tota curia sum -
moniatur pro afforciamento .” And in the margin “Judicium

1 Hales Rolls , 400 (1299). 2 Ibid. 409 (1300); and cf. 500.

8 Ibid. 460 (1302); and cf. 445 where a man puts himself “in veredictum
nativorum domini de proximioribus tenentibus”.

* Ibid. 218. 6 Ibid. 14.

5 Ibid. 31, 509. 7 Ibid . 393.

THE JURY 209

respectuatum”. 1 The court was not well enough attended, the
case was adjourned, and all the court was to be summoned pro
afforciamento , that is to afforce, or strengthen it at its next
meeting, and finally the scribe notes, “Judgment deferred”.

Now that we have seen the important part played by the
totality of the suitors, we may turn to consider how far the
manorial court had developed the jury system. Let us start with
Maitland’s view:

So far as we can see, when the lord’s interests were not being
actively asserted, the serf who sued or was sued in the manorial court
got the same justice as that which the free man got; he got in theory
the judgment, not of his lord, but of a body of doomsmen who were
at least his peers. We say that such a judgment he got in theory: in
practice the question became of less and less moment, for trial by jury
gradually forced its way into the manorial courts. In strictness of law
the lord could not compel his free men to serve as jurors in civil
causes; but the lord could force his bondmen to swear, and many a
small freeholder would serve rather than quarrel with his lord. At
any rate trial by jury made its way into these courts, and it hardly
leaves a place for the doomsman; indeed in course of time the cry for
a judicium parium is (to the great distortion of history) supposed to find
its satisfaction in trial by jury. 2

It is, of course, perfectly true that during the thirteenth cen¬
tury the manorial courts borrowed something from the higher
courts, and gradually began to make more and more use of a jury
system. This was but natural, since many courts were exercising
royal franchises, and especially the view of frank-pledge. Now
this involved the empanelling of a jury—not necessarily, or even
probably on most manors, a jury of twelve free men—but at
least a jury of twelve to enquire into offences against the King’s
peace. Naturally it did not stop at this. It was likely to make
further enquiries on the lord’s behalf, and did so, as we may see,
by looking at a document of about 1270 from the Gloucester
Cartulary. It is headed “Articles of the view of Frank-pledge”
and enumerates first some twenty-nine articles which are to be
enquired into touching the King’s peace and his regalities and
franchises. Then it goes on to enumerate eleven items of strictly
manorial concern: whether the hallmote is fully summoned;

1 Hales Rolls , 241; and see 73, 151, 157; cf. Selden Soc. n, 60, 67, 83.

* Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. 1, 593; and cf. Selden Soc. II, Ixv-lrviiL

BL

14

210

THE MANOR COURT

whether the chief manorial officer and his underlings are satis¬
factory or no; whether the beasts are well tended and the soil
well tilled; whether any have made their sons clerics without
leave, or married their daughters without licence, etc. 1

We have here a hint of the confusion that was arising in the
conduct of manorial business. Matters were not kept strictly to
their various classes: at one moment the court is dealing with an
offence against the manorial economy; at another with an in¬
fringement of one of the lord’s franchises, but things get
muddled one with another in the record—and so are often
potential sources of confusion to modem inquirers. The thir¬
teenth-century suitors and the presiding officer, however, were
clear enough, and if we look closely we can see they have put
various bodies to work in the court. We have first, and most
important, the practice of the whole court making its decisions
and giving the dooms. Secondly, we have juries of presentment,
charged with the business of enquiring into offences against the
franchises, or as a Hales entry runs: a jury “ ad dicendum verita-
tem super articulis consuetis” ; 2 and thirdly we have juries of in¬
quisition, whose business it is to enquire into manorial offences
and matters concerning the working of the manor. The work of
what we may call these several manifestations of the suitors is
not, apparently, recorded in any very ordered way.

It is not easy to see how the jurors were selected, or what

At the Great Courts or half-yearly courts when the view of frank¬
pledge was made, a jury of twelve seems almost inevitable, and in
general we find a jury of this size enrolled as what we have called
a jury of presentment. They are generally spoken of as “elected”,
though we know nothing of how this took place. They seem to
have been elected before the actual sitting of the court, for we
find men fined for their absence. 3 In some rolls a long list of
names is given, and marked “Nomina juratorum”, 4 and it may
be that these were a panel from which the twelve sworn jurors
were chosen. 6

1 Glouc. Cart, hi, 221—2. For the Articles in detail see Heamshaw, Leet
Jurisdiction, and Selden Soc. 11, xxxii, and iv, 93 ff.

1 Holes Rolls , 138. Articulis=the Articles of the View. See above, and
cf. Selden Soc. iv, no. 3 Selden Soc. n, 88.

4 Hales Rolls, 46, 48, 51, 62. 5 Ibid . 7 n. 5.

211

STATUS OF THE JURORS

The personal status of the jurors is equally difficult to gene¬
ralise about. Mr Ault’s examination of the Ramsey documents
leads him to say, “There seems to be no general rule about the
status of the members of a jury ”, and he shows that some Ramsey
juries included both free and unfree, although he notes that two
men refused to serve on a jury at Elton alleging themselves to be
free men, and therefore exempt. 1 No doubt free men were more
and more repudiating claims made on them (whether legally or
illegally) to serve on all kinds of juries, but it was long before
they finally shook off the claims made on them; and, as we have
seen, many free men in the thirteenth century and the fourteenth
were bound to appear at the Manor Court, and hence were liable
to be made part of a jury. 2

We can, however, discern a growing disinclination to serve
on the part of free men—at least to serve on a mixed jury of free
and unfree. In the course of time there emerges on some manors
a system of two juries—one free, the other unfree. On the manor
of Carshalton, in Surrey, we find that after the capital pledges
(acting as a jury of presentment) have made their charges, a free
jury of twelve is sworn who have to declare that the capital
pledges have done everything in order, and have omitted nothing.
At Ingoldmells at the end of the fourteenth century we have the
two bodies clearly shown. First, in 1391, we hear of the free
jurors presenting infractions of the assize of bread and ale, while
the “bond tenants” present other offences and elect manorial
officers. 3 In 1399, a more exact terminology is used, and we find
the free jurors and the bond jurors both mentioned. 4 A little
later (1410) each jury seems to deal only with its own peers, 5 and
then in 1411 we find (as at Carshalton) that the inquisition of
sixteen bond tenants makes presentments, and at the end of the
proceedings we read: “The inquisition of (sixteen) free tenants
says and affirms that all the presentments above are true, and
that they have nothing else to present.” 6

As time went on there is some evidence which leads us to
believe that those chosen as jurymen became a select class. Even

1 Ault, op. cit . 166, quoting from Selden Soc. n, 94.

* Ingoldmells Rolls , 107 n. 1.

* Ibid. 190. 4 Ibid. 194.

* Ibid . 216. 6 Ibid . 221, 222.

14-2

212

THE MANOR COURT

in the late thirteenth century the Hales Rolls show us that the
juries of presentment at the Great Courts each half-year were
made up on successive occasions of very much the same men.
“Of the men in eleven lists of Great Court jurors after 1293, °ne
had served ten times, two on nine occasions and two on eight
occasions. In all there are 42 names, and of these 20 served only
once, 7 in the last list.” 1 Side by side with this we may note that
Maitland found a jury at Gidding made up of the chief pledges,
and he tells us that “similar entries have been found on other
rolls relating to the Ramsey estates”. 2 This state of affairs was
not confined to Ramsey manors, for Dr Page has found much the
same happening a little later on the Crowland estates. There a
small group of men formed a “manorial bureaucracy”, so much
so that an entry of 1368 concerns an order given “to the whole
homage, that is to say, the presentors as sworn below”. 3 An
interesting half-way stage, as it were, is seen at Niddingwirth in
1288, where we have twelve jurors and also eight chief pledges,
and all of them present offences of various kinds. 4 After 1294
this practice ceases, and the presentments are henceforth made
by a jury of twelve. 5

The juries of inquisition were much more variable in their size
and composition. They were often ad hoc bodies, and were more
and more used to make sworn inquisitions as to verifiable facts
—thus taking the place of the older method of compurgation and
appeal to the supernatural. They could consist of any number of
jurors—at Hales they range from four or five to twelve members,
and once, when a very important investigation had to be made,
there were as many as twenty-three. 6 These men were often
drawn from the actual vicinity of the matter in question, and are
called “the neighbours”; other juries were composed of the men
from one or more neighbouring vills; others again were carefully
selected, apparently, so as to include representatives from all the
vills of the manor. 7

1 Hales Rolls, xxxi; and cf. Crowland Estates, 68.

a Selden Soc. 11, 87. See also Selden Soc. iv, no. “Year after year the
same names appear, and on comparing these names with those of the chief
pledges.. .it becomes dear that the leet jury was generally, if not always,
composed of twelve of the chief pledges.” 8 Crowland Estates, 67,

4 Ramsey Rolls, 189; and cf. 191, 193, 196, 200. 5 Ibid. 202 f,

* Hcdes Rolls, 466, 453, 583, 404, etc.; cf. Ramsey Rolls, 191, 200.

Hales Rolls , 395,397,421,423,425, 585; cf. Ramsey Rolls, 183,188, 206.

JURIES OF INQUISITION Z13

Sometimes they presented their verdict there and then, but
frequently they are ordered to present their findings at the next
Court, or are told, or they ask to view the site and buildings, or
to deliberate as to the lord’s rights, etc., before making their
decision. 1 If such permission is not granted they are unwilling
to give their verdict, 2 just as we find them uneasy about speaking,
by reason that several of their more senior members were absent
on the King’s wars, 3 or because they want the aid of the serfs of a
neighbouring manor before they decide. 4 In short the jury of
inquisition was a thoroughly practical straightforward way of
enquiry into facts, and it was very widely used by the lord and
by his tenants.

When any of the tenants wanted to use this means of enquiry
he was usually forced to pay for it, and gave the lord sixpence, or
a shilling, or even more, up to considerable sums such as 6 s. 8 d.
for the privilege. 5 It was worth their while to do this, for not
only did they get a decision, but further it was enrolled on the
record of the court, and could be appealed to if necessary at any
later date. 6 What does seem strange to our ideas is the fairly
common practice of paying at double rates for a satisfactory
verdict: A. B. comes and pays the lord for an inquisition con¬
cerning. .. and he will give the lord 4 s. if he is successful in his
claim, otherwise only 2s. 7

The duties of such juries were manifold. They had to enquire
into all matters of fact, and to declare what was the custom of the
manor. When a dispute had to be settled between two parties it
was the jurors who deliberated and finally returned their verdict,
and upon this the court acted. They made surveys and reported
on ancient rights. They were empowered to draw up by-laws for
the due regulation of the meadows and common fields, and to
make inquisitions, as to the state of various holdings or the con¬
dition of houses and bams. 8 They were not always limited in

1 Hales Rolls, 42, 56, 65, 198, 219, etc. * Ibid. 87.

* Ibid . 377. 4 Ibid. 500.

6 Selden Soc. ir, 17, 20,21,22,24,25; Hales Rolls, 108, 212,447, 476,484,
493, etc.; Ramsey Rolls , 267, 280.

8 Hales Rolls , 372, 459, 502, 512; cf. Selden Soc. rv, 112.

7 Hales Rolls, 219; and cf. Selden Soc. n, 17: ** J. H.*s son gives 35. and if
he recovers will give 3 marks for having a jury of twelve to inquire..

See also p. 20.

8 See for example, Durham Halmote or Hales Rolls, passim*

THE MANOR COURT

214

their activities to matters concerning serfs: on some manors they
presented free men for offences of every kind, or were called on
to declare the age of an heir to the estate, and acted in many ways
which seem contrary to strict legal theory. 1

Not unnaturally, with so much put upon them, we get a mass
of complaints as to their incompetence, partiality and slackness.
Sometimes, indeed, suitors go so far as to say justice is impossible,
since the lord’s officers pack the jury, 2 but more generally it is a
tardy verdict or a neglect of their orders that is complained of.
Sometimes they are fined for concealing the truth of a matter,
and frequently subsequent events bring new facts to light and
the wretched jury are punished for neglecting to make due
search. 3 Their lot in short was unenviable. The lords had long
been accustomed to use their courts as a source of profit, and to
fine the jurors was one of many ways of making money. Thus we
find Wynslow juries fined for concealment of a marriage, of a
sale of land, of “waste” on the lord’s land, etc., when in all pro¬
bability the worst that could be said was that they had been
careless and inefficient. 4 Again,

uniformity and consistency were strictly enforced upon the sworn
men, and the coercion and punishment of a dissentient minority
seems to have been frequent. Fines for the contradiction of fellow-
jurors were common, and offenders were not merely fined by the lord,
but could be impleaded by the parties to the case, who lost prestige
through the lack of unanimity in their favour. 5

The deliberations of the jury were a matter of much interest
in the village, and great care had to be taken to keep them secret
so as to avoid opportunity for renewed litigation. Again and
again the jurors are ordered to keep their deliberations secret
under pain of fine, 6 and again and again we learn that this
secrecy has been broken. 7 On the other hand their verdicts give
rise to violent expressions of opinion: men stood up in court and
upbraided the jury; or, as one record runs: “A. B. disturbed the
court with his scornful words, and would not be prevailed on by

1 Selden Soc. n, 89, 90, 173; Ancient Deeds, v, 495.

* Bristol and Glouc. Arch. Soc. ix, 332, 8 Abbots Langley, f, 4.

4 UX.C. Wynslotoe Rolls, ff. 4 b, $b, 13 b, 63 b, etc.; cf. Durham Halmote,

passim; Selden Soc. n, 90, 97.

* Crowland Estates, 42.

4 Durham Halmote, 33 ; EJ&.R. xlv, 209 n. 1.

7 Wakefield Rolls, 11, 92; Crowland Estates, 42, 43.

THE PEASANT BEFORE THE COURT 215

the Steward to behave himself reasonably as beseemed him.”
Such conduct inevitably resulted in a fine. 1

So far we have considered only such duties and possibilities as
confronted a serf by reason of his liability to suit of court. We
still have to see what action the court took when he appeared as a
plaintiff or defendant, and not merely as a suitor or juryman.
This may be illustrated by following the adventures of one man
over a series of years and noting his appearances in the Manor
Court, although it must be admitted that he is a particularly
troublesome fellow. His name was Richard Bradwater, and he
lived on the Manor of Tooting Bee, where we first meet him in
December 1394, at the first Court held by the new lord of the
manor, Dom Robert of Windsor, Prior of Merton. Here he
acknowledged that he held from the lord one tenement and
13J acres of land, paying therefor twelvepence a year as fixed
rent, and for day-works in part commuted two shillings. Also,
he holds 9 acres of land in farm until the coming of age of William
Bradwater, his nephew, paying therefor three shillings a year for
all. Also he holds one cot with curtilage, paying therefor six¬
pence a year. He was, in fact, one of the largest holders among
the prior’s serfs, and he was ordered with his fellows to show his
Copy of Court Roll to prove his holding by the next Court.
Eighteen months later he is again admonished to show his copy.
The following autumn (for there were but two courts—spring
and autumn each year) he is still without his copy and is also in
further trouble, for his pigs have trespassed on the lord’s meadow,
and he has held two acres of land without any permission for
two years past and has paid no rent for it. Further, when the
bailiff and the tithing man distrained on him at various times, he
broke the distraint, and assaulted the bailiff who tried to prevent
him. Further, in common with nearly all his neighbours, he has
broken the assize of ale. 2 At the next court (November 1397) we
find him accused of allowing his cattle to stray among a neigh¬
bour’s green crops to the damage of ten shillings. Bradwater
admits the offence, and asks that the damage may be valued by
the Court. This is done, and found to amount to three shillings,
and it is ordered that this sum be levied and paid to his neigh-

1 V.C.H. Middlesex , n, 82. Cf. Durham Halmote , 49; Abbots Langley , f. 5;
Wakefield Rolls , I, 97; Selden Soc. iv, 127. 2 Tooting Bee Rolls, 21 f.

2 l6

THE MANOR COURT

bour, and Bradwater is fined twopence for his offence. He is also
charged with driving another neighbour’s cattle out of the com¬
mon pasture, but this he denies, and is ordered to make his law
with five compurgators. To do this it was necessary for him to
appear at the next Court with five friends who would one and
all swear with him that to the best of their knowledge he was
innocent. When the case comes on again (October 1398) he fails
to produce his five compurgators and is adjudged guilty, and
ordered to pay the amount claimed and is fined twopence. “And
a precept is made to levy the said pence from the goods and
chattels of the said Bradwater for the use of the said Nicholas.” 1
He is also found guilty of trespassing with his cattle in the lord’s
grain, and of mowing and lifting the lord’s meadow, and is fined.
He retaliates by accusing Richard Christmas of depriving him of
two acres of land, and Christmas is summoned to answer this
at the next Court. 2 The following October (1399) he (Bradwater)
fails to prosecute his suit and is fined twopence. 3 Later at the
same court he and his wife pay ten shillings in order to take over
several plots of ground and cottages from a relative who is
leaving the manor and who pays two capons yearly for permission
to dwell outside the demesne at the lord’s pleasure. 3 The
tithing man later presents him for assaulting a neighbour, and
also for seizing for his own a stray white hog. For his mis¬
behaviour he is fined eighteenpence, to be levied on his goods. 4
The following May (1400) he is fined for pasturing his beasts and
sheep in the lord’s meadow; he is accused of assaulting and
beating the bailiff, and also of taking away his goods. Part of
this he acknowledges and part he decides to clear himself of
with five compurgators. He is ordered to bring them at the next
Court, and the homage is ordered to assess the damages done
to the bailiff by the assault before the next Court. 5

The following October he produces his five compurgators and
they swear to his innocence, and ‘ ‘ therefore it is adjudged by the
Steward that the said Richard be quit”. 6 The homage had not
assessed the damage and were threatened with a fine unless they
did so in time for the next Court. 6 This they did, and 3s. 4 d. was
ordered to be levied on his goods to recoup the injured bailiff. 7

1 Tooting Bee Rolls , 33. 2 Op. dt. 33. 8 Op. cit. 35.

4 Op. cit . 39. 6 Op. cit. 43. « Op. cit. 47. 7 Op. dt. 51.

THE BUSINESS OF THE COURT

217

At the next two courts we have no mention of him, but in October
1402 he appears again to answer a number of complaints of much
the usual kind, and so it goes on. These details are worth re¬
cording at length, not because of Bradwater’s many failings, but
because they represent the common matter that was constantly
before the manorial courts.

We might, perhaps, classify the business possible at a Manor
Court possessing the fullest franchises and charters in this way.
First, we must distinguish the normal business naturally arising
from the economic administration of the manor. This would
include such items as the regulation and enforcement of labour-
services; the punishment of all types of trespass: the over¬
crowding of the commons; the too frequent taking of wood or
turves, as well as ordinary trespass with cattle on the lord’s
meadows or in a neighbour’s garden. It would also include the
transfer of all land held in villeinage, and even of free land if the
alienation thereof “would seriously impair the lord’s interests”. 1
Regulations for the control of the open fields or the commons
would also fall within the economic sphere of the Court’s
activities, and also the control of the serf’s personal freedom to
marry, to take Orders, to leave the manor would be matters
vitally concerning the effective working of the lord’s demesne and
the manor in general, and therefore matters of which the Court
would take cognisance. Similarly, offences against morality con¬
cerned the lord: for, if an adulterer was successfully prosecuted
in the ecclesiastical court, he was fined and thus in theory lost
something which was his lord’s. In the same way a woman
who lost her virginity was of less value, and was therefore fined
for depreciating her lord’s property. 2

Next come what we should now call minor offences against
law and order. The lord must obviously be allowed to deal with
these, for they affect the smooth working of manorial life,
although a strict view might find in this an invasion of the royal
franchise. Violence—so long as it was not too violent—was
punishable by the Court: attacks on manorial officers, threats and
mild assaults of neighbours, brawling, etc. are dealt with, as well
as more serious offences such as driving off a neighbour’s cattle,

1 Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. I, 346.

2 See below, p. 246.

2 l8

THE MANOR COURT

or the carrying away of other’s crops. Then again, civil disputes
between tenants were decided at the Court. Both sides were
allowed to state their case, and then a verdict was given, either
by a jury, or by all the Court. Breach of contract, or failure to
fulfil promises and obligations were considered and damages
assessed. Personal matters such as slander also came before
the Manor Court and wounded pride claimed and sometimes
received a monetary solace. Not only the tenant or his family,
but even his beasts and crops could be cheapened by unfair
criticism, and men were fined for vilifying {vilipendelant) a man’s
pig 1 , or for defaming his com 2 , so that he lost the sale of it.

Thirdly we reach the pleas which are strictly matters touching
the King’s peace and the like, and are fully enumerated in the
Articles of the View. 3 Strictly: for they include a number of
offences which we have already seen are commonly dealt with by
the lord as part of his seigneurial jurisdiction. Besides these,
however, the tithing men or sworn jury are asked to make their
presentments concerning almost every kind of wrongdoing
from brewing against the assize to open murder. Personal in¬
juries, infringements of the highway, the receiving and har¬
bouring of strangers, the use of false weights and measures, the
haunting of taverns by night, the snaring of game, the clipping
of coins: all are matters the jurors have to consider and report
upon to the court so that justice may be done.

Since “justice is great profit” we may well ask, “What was
the court worth to a lord? ” Apart from the prestige it gave him,
and the importance of having some machinery whereby trans¬
gressors could be punished, the court had a definite financial
side to it, more especially when it included the ordinary business
of a leet within its jurisdiction. In general the amerciament (fine)
was at the discretion of the lord or his officer. Nelson’s Lex
Maneriorum says: “An amerciament is called misericordia in
Latin, because it ought to be assessed mercifully, and afterwards
to be moderated by the affeerment of the equals of him who
committed the offence.” 4 This modification is of great import-

1 Norf. Antiq, Misc . i, 144. 2 Selden Soc. iv, 130.

8 See above, p. 209.

4 Op. cit. 26. There is a distinction made between the amerciaments of the
Court Baron and the fines of the Leet Court in the Law Books, A fine was
directly imposed by the lord and could not be affeered.

GENERAL IMPRESSIONS 219

ance: the culprit was not left solely ad misericordiam doming but
had both the custom of the manor and the clemency of his
fellows to cling to. These helped him, but still left the lord with
something, as a glance at the margin of any Court Roll in which
the amerciaments are written will show. It has proved quite
impossible to work out any figures which would be useful here:
on some manors year by year the revenues from this source are
trivial, on others they are considerable, but seem to bear little
relation to the size of the manor or its annual turnover. In all
probability what we require in order that we may get any
valuable statistics here is a very detailed enquiry into the whole
administration and organisation of each of these manors. On
some the lord insisted on money payments for things which were
freely allowable on others; many lords took heavy annual pay¬
ments for leave of absence or permission to marry off the manor,
while others made but a token fine sufficient. Yet, by and large,
it remains true that the manorial courts were a source of revenue
sufficiently valuable to form a separate paragraph in the great
annual rendering of account by the reeve’s compotus .

After looking over many hundreds of Court Rolls before the
Great Pestilence certain impressions abide, for what they are
worth. First, the courts rapidly developed in technicalities: men
soon found that they could avoid a charge by riding off on some
point of pleading. At Wakefield, for example, the plaintiff does
not name the day or hour on which certain goods were stolen
from him and his claim fails accordingly. 1 A. charged B. with
assault and carrying off his bow and arrows. B. pleaded that he
was not bound to answer, because he was charged with two
offences one of which might be true and the other false. 2 Many
pleadings of a similar nature will also be found in the books of
instruction for young lawyers, published under the title of The
Court Baron y z which illustrate well the complexity of manorial
law even by the fourteenth century.

Secondly, we cannot fail to notice how comparatively powerless
the Court often was to enforce its own orders. We read in many
rolls that such and such a thing is to be done, “as hath been
oftentimes commanded”, but just as frequently the entry appears

1 Wakefield Rolls , I, 104. * Op . cit. II, 15.

* Selden Soc. iv, 24, 4*> 4$, 67, 76, etc.

220

THE MANOR COURT

again at the next Court. It was not only that men who had fled
from the manor could not be brought back, but even when serf-
tenants were concerned, the power of the Court seems often to
be curiously feeble. Men forget to clear away nuisances, or to
replace boundary stones, or to mend their ruinous houses, and
the bailiff complacently reports this at the next Court, and once
again they are ordered to do so. And so it goes on, till they act—
or until the bailiff tires—we do not know which. 1

Thirdly, the clever man could avoid making any very definite
answer for a long time. At the head of most rolls come the
essoins such as “Simon Francis [essoins himself] against John
of Senholt in a plea of trespass for the third time by Odo of
Mursley. Faith pledged”. 2 From this entry we see that Simon
has managed to absent himself from three courts, and for so long
the unfortunate John has had no remedy. At the next court,
however, Simon must appear, or his pledge Odo of Mursley
will be in trouble. Some men did not even trouble to make
essoins, but put off coming from court to court without ap¬
parently being judged in default. Certainly the practice varied
enormously from manor to manor, but there remains a general
impression of dilatory, capricious and uncertain action.

But, whatever weaknesses we may detect, the Manor Court was
not entirely useless, nor merely a means whereby the lord
could amerce and punish his peasants. It was also a great barrier
against violent changes of policy. On its rolls from time to time
was entered some new interpretation, or some new item con¬
cerning “the custom of the manor”, or the findings of the jury
as to the liability of the homage to render such and such dues, or
their determinations as to the bounds of the lord’s acres and their
own, etc. True it was not a Court of Record that would be
recognised by the King’s justices, 3 but it was a true court of
record so far as the serf was concerned, and constantly he was
ready to pay for a search of the rolls to be made so that the truth
or falsity of his claim might be established. 4 When he came into
court to take over or to render up some piece of land, not only

1 Glympton, 56; Maitland, Collected Papers , 11, 377; Banstead , 139 n. 4;

V.C.H. Middlesex , 11, 80; V.C.H. Berks , 11, 179.

4 Selden Soc. n, 6. 3 See above, p. 198.

4 Hales Rolls , 78, 79, 319, 220; Wynslozoe Rolls , 4a, 56, 6 a, etc.

GENERAL IMPRESSIONS 221

did the ceremonial exchange “by the verge" take place in court,
but the scribe entered the facts on his rolls, 1 and often was asked
to give a copy of the entry so that all doubt might be avoided.

Again the Manor Court provided a speedy and comparatively
inexpensive way of obtaining redress for injury or wrong. While
we cannot agree with Vinogradoff's view that “all foreign
elements in the shape of advocates or professional pleaders were
excluded* 5 , 2 it is true that in general the procedure of the courts
was simple enough to be followed by most peasants. The old
patriarchal system still prevailed sufficiently for a man to be able
to go to the court in the reasonable expectation of receiving
protection from his lord if wrong had been done him. While the
Kong's Courts were remote and difficult of access, from time to
time his lord's court was open to him, and there he could plead
redress for almost every kind of wrong, and could claim and
could hear the “ doom" of the court, which was the verdict of his
fellows, before the judgment of the lord w T as pronounced.

1 Sclden Soc. 11, 28, 3s, 40,46, etc.; Wynslozoe Rolls , 45a; Eynsham Cart.
n,9, IO > 11, ai, 129,130. The “verge” was usually a slender rod which was
handed from tenant to lord, and symbolised the actual piece of land in
question.

1 Villainage 367. See Hales Rolls , 134, 137 where R. de Bosco per attoma -
turn suum optulit se versus T. de W. etc., and Selden Soc. iv, 81.

CHAPTER IX

EVERYDAY LIFE

I ittle enough is left in England to-day that will give us
any impression of the houses of the medieval peasantry.
^ Such structures as the Kentish farm-houses, with their
long boarded fronts, and the stone houses of the Cotswolds, the
half-timbered houses scattered up and down the countryside are
all too grand and too large to be of much help to us. Here and
there survivals, such as the old clergy house at Alfriston, or the
few remaining old cottages of the Snowdon district, emphasise
what we have lost in losing the medieval village home. But to
see them, as they were for centuries before the time of Chaucer,
and perhaps as late as the sixteenth century, we must go to rural
France, or Switzerland, or Austria. There, in village after village,
the passage of centuries has scarcely changed the house in which
the peasant lives. They are built of various materials, according
to the local characteristics. Where good stone is to be had stone
houses prevail, while in forest districts wood is used almost
entirely, and so on. But they are still in the rudimentary state of
development they had reached centuries ago. Two rooms suffice
for all their needs: one serving for all purposes of living, eating,
cooking, etc., while the other is kept as a bed-room as far as is
possible. Only as far as is possible, for in these rudimentary
conditions no division can be strictly observed, and chickens and
other animals invade the living room, while some members of a
family too numerous to find beds elsewhere must perforce couch
as best they can amidst the tables and stools and other impedi¬
menta of the living room. At their best such houses afforded a bare
shelter, but they easily fell into decay, and patchwork repairs still
left them in the condition so graphically described, for example,
in a recent picture of rural France:

C’etait une cabane bossue et lepreuse, a peine plus haute qu’un
homme; on descendait a Pinterieur par deux marches de granit; il y
faisait tres sombre, car le jour n’entrait que par une lucame a deux
petits carreaux; Phiver, il y avait de l’eau partout, et cela faisait de la
boue qui n’en finissait pas de secher, sous les lits surtout; il y avait

B L

15

226

EVERYDAY LIFE

des trous qui empechaient les tabourets de tenir debout; on les com-
blait de temps en temps avec de la terre apportee du jardin . 1

Conditions such as these show how static rural life is in many
ways, and how little changed these houses are from that of
Chaucer’s poor widow, who had but a cottage divided into bower
and hall, where she lived a “ful sooty” life with her cows, kin e
and sheep all about her, while Chauntecleer and his seven wives
ran in and out from time to time.

The peasant’s house was as simple in its construction as it was
rudimentary in its provision for comfort or privacy. One of the
most widespread of types—especially it would seem in the area
North and West of a line drawn from the Wash to the Bristol
Channel—was the house which had for its main timbers curved
uprights (crucks) placed opposite to each other with a ridge-pole
running the whole length of the house and holding the various
pairs of uprights firmly together. The simplest form of this sur¬
viving is seen at Scrivelsby, near Homcastle, in Lincolnshire,
where a house, popularly loiown as “Teapot Hall”, has for its
crucks pairs of perfectly straight principals united by a ridge-tree.
The roof runs from ridge-tree to the ground, and the space
within the house is severely circumscribed. The type of structure
which had curved uprights, however, gave more room than this
in the lower part of the house, and from this developed the later
form of house in which the lower portion was constructed of
heavy timbers which formed the comers and intermediate posts
and stood up from the foundations some eight or ten feet—thus
giving even more room than did the curved upright form. Upon
these posts were erected the principal rafters and crowning these
the ridge-tree. Few examples of houses of the fourteenth cen¬
tury still exist, but in remote countryside valleys, such as in the
Snowdon area, some still remain. Messrs Hughes and North have
examined these carefully and write: “The characteristic of these
cottages seems to have been that the roof principals were com¬
posed each of two great curved pieces of oak, starting from the
floor, against the side walls, and meeting at the ridge... .The

1 E. P&rochon, Les Creux-de-maisons (1921), 14. Cf. H. Bachelin, Le
Village , 29 ;and especially E. Guillaumin, Notes Pay sarnies, 94. For conditions
in the Valais in the mid-nineteenth century, see Ruskin’s moving account in
Modem Painters , iv, Part v, ch. xix, §§ 4, 5 and 6.

THE PEASANT’S COTTAGE 227

great curved rafters are each connected by two horizontal ties .” 1
Such was the framework of the majority of small houses and
cottages, built with the help of the village carpenter and re¬
quiring no great skill in setting up. Once the framework was
constructed, the walls and roof followed fairly easily. Few in¬
stances are recorded of the use of stone for the walls—even in
good stone country—but almost everywhere wattle-and-daub,
or cob, or earth and mud were the principal materials in use. In
the first of these a number of sticks were stuck upright, and
twigs were woven in and out between them forming a sort of
rude lattice work, and on this was thrown the dab until it was of
the right thickness. The fragile and easily combustible nature of
such buildings needs no emphasising, but may help to explain
the constant references in medieval writers to the ruinous con¬
dition of the countryside after plague or war . 2

Other houses, again, were built with mud walls, or of cob as it
is called in the Western counties. Mr Addy thus describes the
process in Yorkshire:

The walls are built of layers of mud and straw which vary from five
to seven inches in thickness, no vertical joints being visible. On the
top of each layer is a thin covering of straw, with the ends of the straws
pointing outwards, as in a com stack. The way in which mud walls
were built is remembered in the neighbourhood. A quantity of mud
was mixed with straw, and the foundation laid with this mixture.
Straw was then laid across the top, whilst the mud was wet, and the
whole was left to dry and harden in the sun. As soon as the first layer
was dry another layer was put on, so that the process was rather a slow
one. Finally the roof was thatched, and the projecting ends of straws
trimmed off the walls . 3

The majority of cottages were thatched, although wooden
shingles were not unknown. The thatch was nearly always a

1 H. Hughes and H. L. North, The Old Cottages of Snowdonia , 5.

3 Hugh , St (R.S.), 69; Essex Review , xin, 219.

8 Evolution of the English House , 40, 47 and n. 1. Country Life (1914)* 395 *
Cf. Thomas Hardy’s account: “What was called mud-wall was really a
composition of chalk, clay and straw—essentially unbaked brick. This was
mixed up into a sort of dough-pudding close to where the cottage was to
be built. The mixing was performed by treading and shovelling—women
sometimes being called in to tread—and the straw was added to bind the mass

together_It was then thrown by pitch-forks on to the wall, where it was

trodden down to a thickness of about two feet, till a rise of about three feet
had been reached. This was left to settle for a day or two, etc.”: The Times>
March 11, 1927.

15-2

228

EVERYDAY LIFE

straw of some kind: rye straw being the most esteemed as longest
and strongest, and after that came wheat straw. The com was cut
close up to the ear so that there was a great deal of stubble for
thatching purposes. In certain parts, such as Lincoln and Nor¬
folk, where reeds were plentiful, they were almost invariably used
for thatching, and by some were considered the finest thatching
material of all. The men of the Ramsey manors, for example,
had to cut sedge for thatching the many buildings of the manors,
or if they wished to be excused from this duty they had to pay
“sedge silver” to the lord. 1 When the thatcher came he was
served by his man or often by a woman, and received a compara¬
tively high rate of pay for his skilled work—generally at least
twice as much as his assistant.

The ventilation of these houses was non-existent or rudi¬
mentary. There was usually no chimney and the smoke from the
fire escaped as best it could from the door, windows and crevices
in wall and roof, just as it does in Alpine chalets to-day. The fire
was made, either on the bare floor, or on an iron plate placed on
the floor, and the peasants cooked and lived as best they
could in a “ful sooty” atmosphere. Not till the end of the
fifteenth century did chimneys become a fairly common feature
of any but the greatest houses (the architectural difficulties of
making a chimney were considerable), and even as late as 1557
conservatives like Harrison complained of this effeminate inno¬
vation. 2

Nor were the windows of much use in letting out the smoke,
for they were few and small. Glass was still far too expensive for
the peasant, and he covered his tiny window-opening with a
wooden shutter (thus excluding light as well as air) or less often
by framed blinds of cloth or canvas termed, fenestralls? The con¬
ditions resulting are vividly described by Langland who pictures
the peasant bleary-eyed, or worse, and hoarse with the “smoke
and smolder”, so that he coughs and curses that God may
chastise those whose business it is to bring in dry wood, or at
least to blow it until it is blazing. 4

1 Ramsey Cart. I, 308, 431, and see Cust. Rents , 57-8.

2 Eliz. Engl . 119. “A room with a chimney ” was one of the signs of a
decadent age noted by Langland. Piers Plowman , B. 11 . 94-100.

* Prompt. Parv. 155.

4 Piers Plowman , B. xvn, 322.

DOMESTIC OCCUPATIONS 229

The work necessary to construct buildings such as these was
done with a minimum of skilled labour. Every village, of course,
had a carpenter (or woodwright) among its inhabitants, and he
was undoubtedly one of the essential figures of medieval life;
but, save for woodwright and wheelwright, skilled workers were
not so easily found, and most medieval building operations of a
simple nature were done by the common-sense knowledge and
skill of the untrained villagers, assisted where necessary by the
carpenter, the thatcher, or the plasterer. 4 ‘The rougher part was
done by customary tenants, who tore down old walls, dug the
clay, and fetched water to ‘temper* it; pulled off the old thatch
and cut and brought stubble for the new.” 1 In the same way the
tenants of the Bishop of Chichester were forced to aid in the
building of new barns under the direction of a master carpenter, 2
and there was little in the everyday run of things that the peasant
was not prepared to tackle, both about his own close and at the
manor house itself.

This side of medieval domestic life is thus admirably summed
up by Lord Ernie:

Women spun and wove wool into coarse cloth, and hemp or nettles
into linen; men tanned their own leather. The rough tools required
for the cultivation of the soil, and the rude household utensils needed
for the comforts of daily life, were made at home. In the long winter
evenings, farmers, their sons, and their servants carved the wooden
spoons, the platters, and the beechen bowls. They fitted and riveted
the bottoms to the horn mugs, or closed, in coarse fashion, the leaks in
the leathern jugs. They plaited the osiers and reeds into baskets and
into “weeles” for catching fish; they fixed handles to the scythes,
rakes, and other tools; cut the flails from holly or thorn, and fastened
them with thongs to the staves; shaped the teeth for rakes and harrows
from ash or willow, and hardened them in the fire; cut out the wooden
shovels for casting the corn in the granary; fashioned ox-yokes and
bows, forks, racks, and rack-staves; twisted willows into scythe-
cradles, or into traces and other harness-gear. Travelling carpenters,
smiths, and tinkers visited detached farmhouses and smaller villages,
at rare intervals, to perform those parts of the work which needed
their professional skill. Meanwhile the women plaited straw or reed
for neck-collars, stitched and stuffed sheep-skin bags for cart-saddles,
peeled rushes for wicks and made candles. Thread was often made

1 Davenport, op. cit. p. 22.

* Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, pp. 54, 76.

EVERYDAY LIFE

230

from nettles. Spinning-wheels, distaffs, and needles were never idle.
Home-made cloth and linen supplied all wants. Flaxen linen for
board-cloths, sheets, shirts, smocks or shirts, and towels, as the nap¬
kins were called, on which, before the introduction of forks, the hands
were wiped, was only found in wealthy households and on special
occasions. Hemp, in ordinary households, supplied the same necessary
articles, and others, such as candle-wicks, in coarser form. Shoe-
threads, halters, stirrup-thongs, girths, bridles, and ropes were woven
from the “carle” hemp; the finer kind, or “Amble” hemp supplied
the coarse linen for domestic use, and “hempen homespun” passed
into a proverb for a countryman . 1

The fragile nature of the houses has already been mentioned,
and hence we need feel no surprise at finding constant references
to “ruinous and dilapidated cots” in the Court Rolls and else¬
where. It was obviously against the lord’s interests that houses
should be like this, and therefore tenants were generally ordered
to repair their houses within a given time, 2 and sometimes a
stake was driven in before their door as a reminder of this. 3 If a
cottage was in so “feeble” a condition that it required repair by an
incoming tenant, his rent would be reduced for the time being, 4 or
he would be allowed timber to help him to put it in order again. 5
Even when in good repair, however, such fragile buildings had
their drawbacks, as is brought home to us when we read that
thieves broke in indifferently through the walls or the doors; or
that a man was killed at his own fireside by a spear thrust in
through the side of the house. 6 Once such houses fell into dis¬
repair it only needed a few violent storms and a winter or two to
bring them crashing to the ground. 7

Undoubtedly the greatest incentive to the peasant to keep his
house in repair was a generous allowance of timber from the
lord’s woods and forests, and this was appreciated by many

1 Lord Ernie, English Farming , Past and Present (second ed.), 29. Cf. the
account given in The Countryman, July 1935, p. 356, of the way the Austrian
peasants still live an almost self-supporting life in the villages of the Salz-
kammergut.

2 Abbots Langleyy f. 37 r., 37 v. ; Wilts. Arch . Mag. V, 74.

3 Wilts. Arch . Mag. xxxii, 294.

4 Durham Halmote Rolls, 21; Thoresby Soc. xv, 157.

5 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxi, 83; Davenport, op. cit. 32; Durham Halmote Rolls ,
xnc.

6 Selden Soc. 1. 3. Cf. Caiholicon } where “howse breker” is translated
“apercularius

7 Wakefield Court Rollsy 1, 274.

“BY HOOK OR BY CROOK"

231

lords, although, as Miss Neilson tells us, “the conditions under
which he could take wood from the woodland of the manor had
to be carefully defined. To cut wood without permission, within
the forest or without it, was a very serious offence, included in
the Ramsey customal with theft and bloodshed as offences not
to be compounded for by fulstingpound” - 1 Other lords, less
harsh, fined culprits who took wood without leave. 2 Other manors
again had curious customs, such as obtained on the royal de¬
mesne of Pickering in Yorkshire, where the tenants could take
all dry wood lying on the ground, as well as any wood they could
knock down with hooks (by hook or by crook). 3 This custom is also
found as late as the sixteenth century on the lands of William,
first Earl of Pembroke, whose tenants had also the privilege on
Holy Thursday of felling and carrying away on a cart drawn by
men, a load of young oak trees, wherewith they decorated the
village church and their own dwellings. 4 Such accounts as these
are sufficient to indicate the strict control the lord usually kept
over timber rights on the manor, and the Court Rolls constandy
show us men being fined because they have cut down trees
without leave.

This same survey, late though it is, may be used to emphasise
what has been said above, for the scribe has not only given a
detailed account of the various holdings and villages, but has
added delightful bird’s-eye drawings of two of them—Wilton
and Paignton. Here we may see the thatched, single-story mud
and watde houses with their small windows and comparatively
few chimneys. Each house stands in its own litde curtilage (or
enclosed piece of ground) and this is laid out by the villager as
his own private garden where he can cultivate what he pleases
quite apart from his strips in the common fields where he was
only able to act in concert with his fellows. 5

What he could cultivate was not very much according to
our modem notions, but was perhaps more than is commonly

1 Oust . Rents , p. 52.

2 Abbots Langley, £. 36 v.; Tatenhill, II, p. 2 iff.; Wilts. Arch . Mag. v, 76;
and for surviving rights in the seventeenth century see xli, 174.

3 Cal . Inquis. Misc. 1, p. 40. Cf. p. 41 where they are free to take whatever
they can get without tools of any kind.

4 Pembroke Survey, lxx.

6 Op. cit. 1, 182, Plate vii; n, 388, Plate ix.

EVERYDAY LIFE

232

believed. 1 Fruit trees of various kinds were widespread: apples,
pears and cherries being quite common. Plums, quinces and
medlars were also grown by many, and walnuts, chestnuts and
filberts were very popular. These were grown in what is some¬
times called the hortus in surveys and terriers, and it has been
suggested that we ought to distinguish between this and the
gardinum , where a few flowers were grown and such vegetables
and herbs as were available. 2 So far as the ordinary peasant was
concerned we need not bother about this minute sub-division
(which seems, in any case, to be of doubtful validity), but may
imagine him growing whatever he could in a fine confusion: a
few apple and pear trees, and vegetables, such as cabbages,
leeks, onions, garlic, mustard, peas and beans, together with pot
herbs—parsley and “herbys to make both sauce and stewe”.
Piers Plowman, for instance, speaks of the harvest in his croft
that will give him beans and peas, leeks, parsley and shallots,
“chiboles and chervils and cherries, half-red”. 3

When we turn to view the interior of the peasant’s house we
find that it had little to commend it. The floor was usually of
earth, trodden or beaten as hard as was possible, but liable to
become wet and messy with constant coming and going in wet
weather. Straw was freely used, both for warmth and cleanliness,
however. 4 The fire was made on an iron plate or a hob of clay,
and about it clustered the cooking utensils—pots and pans of
earthenware (or perhaps brass or latten 5 ), with ladles and forks
of metal of some kind; while bowls and basins of wood, and forks
and spoons, and many other odds and ends of use to the cook,
were carved and hollowed out by the master and his sons during
the long winter evenings from rough pieces of beech or oak. Add

1 Medieval gardening was fairly fully treated in 1862 by T. Wright in his
Hist. Domestic Manners and Sentiments , 293—303. The most authoritative
modem work on this subject, however, is by A. M. Amherst, Hist, of Garden¬
ing. Sir F. Crisp’s Medieval Gardens has admirable illustrations of rich men’s
gardens, but does not help us to know much about those of the lower classes.
See e.g. Rent, and Cust. {M. de Ambresbury ), Somerset Rec. Soc. v, passim ;
Ramsey Cart . s.v. gardens.

2 The Athencevm , Aug. 7, 1909, p. 146.

3 Piers Plowman, B. 11 . 288-96. Chiboles =small onions; chervils= pot¬
herbs, O.F. cerfeuil.

4 Selden Soc. vii, 52, 91; and cf. Myrk, Festial (E.E.T.S.), p. 39, 1. 22.

6 Latten was a mixed metal of yellow colour, either identical with, or
closely resembling brass.

A PEASANT'S GOODS

233

a few stools and a trestle-table on which the meal could bespread,
with a chest to hold the best clothes, and we have almost ex¬
hausted the furnishing of the medieval cottage. Beds we know
little of: occasionally a feather-bed is mentioned in a will, and is
evidently a precious thing; but in general bags of straw or flock
had to serve, either thrown on the floor, or resting on rudely
constructed frames placed by the walls of the house. Indeed,
even in 1557, Harrison writes contemptuously of beds, and
though he exaggerates, he is evidence of a still existing con¬
servatism:

Our fathers and we oursefres have lyen full ofte upon straw pallettes,
covered only with a sheet, under coverlets made of dogswain or hop-
harlots (I use, says he, the very words of the old men from whom I
received the accounts) and a good round logge under their heades,
insteade of a boulster. If it "were so that our fathers or the good man
of the house had... a matteres or flock bed and thereto a sacke of
chafe to rest hys heade upon, he thought himself to be as well loged
as the lorde of the towne, so well were they contented. Pillowes, they
sayde, were thoughte mete only for women in childebed. As for
servants, if they had anysheete above them, it was well, forseldome had
they any under their bodies, to keepe them from the pricking straws,
that ranne oft thorow the canvas, and rased their hardened hides . 1

Few inventories of peasant's goods have survived, and even
these are not very helpful. One dated 1293 enumerates the
chattels of a man who died worth only thirty-three shillings and
eightpence. His “household stuff” consisted of a bolster, a rug,
two sheets, a brass dish and a trivet. 2 Nearly a century later the
Durham Halmote Rolls record the “goods and chattels” of two
serfs, but in neither instance are any domestic effects men¬
tioned. 3 Again, a jury of Tatenhill, about 1380, assessed Richard
Holland’s goods at £$. 35., and here the household goods were
comparatively small in value. Among them we read of bedding
(sheets, blankets, counterpanes) as well as of kitchen utensils
(pans, cresset, tripod, skillet, five spoons of silver, colanders and
a board-cloth), the whole being worth less than £2* Lastly, the
jury of Easington, in 1409, assessed the “domestic utensils” of
Richard Watson at 6$. 8 d., out of an estate worth £8. 17 s. 2d. 5

1 Eliz. Eng. 119. a Arch. Joum. ill, 65.

8 Op. cit. 151, 168. 4 Tatenhill, n, 55.

8 V.C.H. Durham, n, 199. Cf. D.S.P. xcvii.

EVERYDAY LIFE

^34

With this we may compare the contents of a hall as given in an
early fifteenth-century book of vocabularies. They are: a board,
trestle, banquere (a piece of tapestry to throw over a bench), a
dorser (hanging), table dormant (standing table, as opposed to
the easily movable trestle-table), basin, laver, fire, hearth, brand,
logs, andirons, long settle, chairs, benches, tongs, stools,
bellows, “serene”. 1 Few peasants had such costly things as
tapestries or hangings or even chairs, and a “dormant” table
would have been a great nuisance in the restricted floor space of
a medieval cottage; but otherwise the list is a fair indication of
the kind of furniture and fixtures to be found in the ordinary
village home.

Thorold Rogers, in his well-known book Six Centuries of
Work and Wages , filled many pages in detailing “evidence as to
the condition of the English peasantry, in order, if possible,
once for all to show how untenable the opinion is which doubts
that, as far as the mere means of life were concerned, the English¬
man of the middle ages lived in ordinary times in coarse plenty ”. 2
Yet, despite his efforts, obstinate doubts still assail us. We can¬
not easily forget Chaucer’s poor widow in the Nun’s Priest’s Tale ,
who lived in her little two-roomed house on a diet of “milk and
brown bread, singed bacon, with sometimes an egg or two”;
or the still more poignant pictures drawn by Langland of the
peasants of his day. No chickens, geese, pork or bacon come
their way, but two green (new) cheeses, curds and cream, and a
cake of oats. This, together with bread of pease or beans for their
children, is all the food they can look forward to until harvest
comes. 3 Langland sees the poor, “charged with children and
chief lord’s rent”, spending their small wages in milk and meal
to make porridge “to glut the maws” of their children that cry
after food. “Also in winter they suffer much hunger and woe.
.. .It would be a charity to help them: bread and penny-ale are
a luxury; cold flesh and cold fish is to them like baked venison;
on Fridays and fasting-days, a farthing’s worth of mussels or so
many cockles were a feast for such folk.” Such pictures as these,

1 A Volume of Vocabularies, ed. T. Wright, 197. 2 Op. cit. 63.

8 Op. cit . C. dc, 304. Cf. also 331. Cf. Gower’s Mir our, 11. 26, 437 ff.,
where labourers of old ate beans or coarser com washed down by water. Milk
and cheese were a feast to them, and they rarely ate other dainties.

4 Op. cit. C. x, 71.

Domest

Folding linen . Dividing the carcast

The rot

FOOD AND DRINK

*35

together with other contemporary and earlier testimony, 1 * cannot
be ignored. Doubtless the aristocracy of the peasants “lived in
ordinary times in coarse plenty”; but, as we have already seen,
there were many others besides these people on the manor, and
their lot was much as Langland has pictured it.

When we turn to the documents themselves, we find how very
limited was the range of foodstuffs available. Our best evidence,
perhaps, comes from the lists of food provided by the lord for his
serfs engaged in the hard work of harvesting and the like. We
may summarise many hundreds of such lists by saying that the
serf was given bread, ale or cider, a mess of pottage, followed by
a dish of fish or flesh and perhaps a lump of cheese. The re¬
searches of Sir W. Ashley have suggested that in general the
bread was of rye, or at best, of a mixture of rye and wheat
{maslin)? If otherwise, this was plainly stated in the customal
or elsewhere. 3 The size of the loaf handed over to the workers
varied, and sometimes no ale but only water was given. The
pottage was “a grewell without flesh boiled in it”, 4 and often
made with peas or beans. 5 Herrings or dried fish were commonly
supplied for the harvesters on fast days, while “a dish of meat”
formed the piece de resistance on other days. 6 Meat was expensive
for the serf, and only seldom came his way, except as a feast or
when he fed at his lord’s costs. We can get a little nearer the
day’s rations by noting the practice on some of the Abbot of
Battle’s manors where the workers get two or three meals during
the day: at Craumarey in Oxfordshire at nonam (noon) they got
wheaten bread, ale and cheese, and at vespers, bread, ale, pot¬
tage, flesh or herrings and cheese. 7 On other manors something
of the same is found: the carters of Ferring in 1289 g ot a morning
meal of rye bread, with beer and cheese; at noon they had bread
and beer, with pottage and the usual dish of fish or flesh, and in
the evening a drink before leaving the manor hall. 8

1 Med. Village, 311-20, summarises the English and foreign evidence.

a The Bread of our Forefathers , passim ; Boon, fount, xxxi, 285.

8 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 72, 89, 107; cf. pp. 34, 43, 81.

4 Dugdale, Warwick, p. 177 a. 5 V.C.H. Middlesex, 11, 67.

6 Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, passim; Camb. Univ. Lib. MS. KJk. v. 29,
ff. 26 b, 32 b, 103, 104; Battle Customals , 5, 20, 87, 89. Min. Accounts,

1030/3-6; 998/21.

7 Battle Customals , 87, 89. 8 Camb. Univ. Lib. MS. Kk. v. 29, f. 104.

EVERYDAY LIFE

236

The above rations, however, must not be looked on as normal,
but as something superior to the ordinary daily meals which
most men were able to afford themselves. On special occasions,
no doubt, poultry or a hare or rabbit found its way to the pot,
or even a piece of salted beef, or perhaps a cut of tainted
mutton (dead of the plague) was passed off by an unscrupulous
master to his serfs. As an earlier chapter has shown, rabbits
were very plentiful, and at times even game preserves, or the
sacred forests themselves, were raided. Poaching was common,
and one of the most spirited pieces of medieval literature tells
of a poacher’s adventures in quest of his quarry; while the
manorial courts were constantly called on to repress such ad¬
venturers. 1

We have little evidence to guide us as to the number or the
times of medieval meals for the humbler folk. In default of
anything certain, it may be hazarded that most of them had
a hunk of bread and a mug of ale in the morning; and a lump of
cheese and bread, with perhaps an onion or two to flavour it, and
more ale for their midday meal. At the end of the day (as is still
common among Continental peasants) the main meal was served.
It was not very varied, nor very palatable to modem ways of
thinking. A thick soup or pottage was the main dish, and bread
and cheese followed to complete the meal, on most occasions.
Rarely a dish of meat was forthcoming, and the poultry, which
ran in and out of the medieval home, also served to garnish some
special occasion when the villager put his best on the table.
Drink was equally monotonous: ale was the most usual drink for
all humble folk (although cider took its place in some parts), and
even this was a thin and not very heady liquid. The 44 moist and
corny ale” only came on rare evenings when the lord entertained
his men, or some very exceptional village celebration demanded
such an unusual extravagance.

Hence, when all has been said, despite his occasional feasts
and the short seasons of harvest and abundance, the lot of the
medieval peasant, as M. Henri See concludes from his study of
French conditions, was “assez miserable”. 2 He draws attention
to the limited number of things the peasant could grow, and to

1 See above, p. 218, and for the poem, see below, p. 271.

2 Op . cit. p. 547.

FAMILY LIFE

^37

the lack of any widespread knowledge of methods of re-fertilising
the soil. Further, he notes that agricultural instruments were
still comparatively undeveloped, and difficulties of communica¬
tion encouraged attempts to grow things in climates and soils
quite unsuited for them. 1 Add to this the hazards attendant on
weather, and it is not difficult to realise that the peasant was
frequently near to starvation, 2 and, perforce, eked out a difficult
existence as best he could, especially through the long winter
months.

With so much else in medieval times the details of married
life escape us. The fortunate survival of The Paston Letters and
The Stonor Letters , or the indiscreet memoirs of a Pepys, allow
us to glean innumerable facts concerning the relations between
husbands, wives and children in the fifteenth and the seventeenth
centuries. No such aid is forthcoming for the historian of
thirteenth- or fourteenth-century peasant life. The earliest
manuals of behaviour, and rules for the upbringing of children
do not date before the fifteenth century; and, even if they did,
would be of little help, for they are concerned with the behaviour
of people and of children of considerably higher status than the
peasant. Documents, again, will not help us, for they are almost
invariably concerned only with the peasant’s relation to his lord.
His personal concerns are of little interest to the lord, save
where, as in his choice of a wife, they are liable to affect the
lord’s interests. But his home life, and his daily routine therein
matter nothing to the lord, and as a result these figure nowhere
in any records which have come down to us. Our ignorance of
these conditions remains profound.

The nearest we can now hope to get to such conditions, per¬
haps, is when we have a few minutes inside the dwelling of a
peasant family, not in England, for things have changed so
radically here, but in some tiny French or Swiss hamlet, where

1 op . eiu p. 540*

3 Conditions do not seem to have been so severe in England as in France.
A. Luchaire, in his Social France at the time of Philip Augustus , asserts that in
the twelfth century “men died of hunger, on an average, one year in every
four” (and adds that 48 famine years are recorded in the eleventh century
(p. 7)). In England we have no evidence of such appalling conditions: indeed
Thorold Rogers asserts that he knows “ of only one distinct period of famine
in the whole economic history of England”, i.e. 1315-21 (Work and Wages ,
62; cf. 217).

EVERYDAY LIFE

238

medieval ways and customs are only of yesterday. One such
glimpse remains clear in my memory. Caught by a heavy rain¬
storm high up in the mountains of Aubrac, in the department of
the Cantal in France, I was forced to shelter in a wayside shed;
and, after a few minutes, was seen from the house, and invited to
enter. It was a meagre room, some fourteen feet square, and so
little light entered from a small window that it was difficult at
first to see clearly. The floor was of earth, and on a rude stone
hearth an old woman tended a wood fire and, from time to time,
stirred the soup. Two dark wooden cupboards filled up some of
the little space, and a home-made table of chestnut, a few chairs
and a couple of stools were all the other furniture, save for a
cradle rudely fashioned from a log of wood. The baby, swaddled
in medieval fashion, and but a few days old, lay in it; on its
crying, the mother (who had already risen from childbed) got
up from where she sat on the other side of the fire and hastened
to suckle it. She did not remove the child from the cot, but lifted
the cot itself, with the child in it, to her breast. She and her
mother talked to me while she did so, and explained how they
lived in this remote spot: their little garden grew much of their
food, and the strips of meadow and pasture round about but
barely provided for their cattle on which they depended. From
time to time the son-in-law went down the mountains to the fair
at Maijevols or Espalion, and from the sale of a cow was able to
purchase those necessaries which they were unable to grow or
fashion for themselves at home. It would be useless to press the
likeness to medieval conditions very far; but, at least, nobody
could fail to realise that here life was going on as it had done in
many particulars for countless generations. So too, in the narrow
village street at Salers, or at Besse-en-Chandesse in the Auvergne,
or pushing our way through the market at Mauriac, and hearing
the raucous cries of the peasants as they bartered and sold, or
the clack of the old wives chattering and gossiping while still
endeavouring to get rid of chickens or vegetables—in such
places medieval daily life is once again before our eyes and
imagination.

Readers of The Nun’s Priest’s Tale will easily recognise how
similar were the conditions in which Chaucer’s “poor widow”
lived to those of the Cantal peasants of 1930:

GROWTH OF POPULATION

a 39

A poure wydwe, somdeel stape in age,

Was whilom dwellyng in a narwe cotage,

Biside a grove, stondynge in a dale.

This wydwe, of which I telle vow my tale,

Syn thilke day that she was last a wyf,

In pacience ladde a fui sympie lyf,

For litel was hir catel and hir rente.

By housbondrie of swich as God hire sente
She foond hirself and eek hir doghtren two.

Thre large sowes hadde she, and namo,

Three keen, and eek a sheep that highte Malle.

Ful sooty was hire bour and eek hir halle,

In which she eet ful many a sklendre meel.

Of poynaunt sauce her neded niver a deel.

No deyntee morsel passed thurgh hir throte....

No wyn ne drank she, neither whit ne reed;

Hir bord was served moost with whit and biak,

Milk and broun breed, in which she foond no lak,

Seynd bacoun, and sometyme an ev or tweye;

For she was, as it were, a maner deye.

A yeerde she hadde, enclosed al aboute
With stikkes, and a drye dych withoute . 1

Amidst such material conditions the peasant lived, and did his
best to rear his family. The frightful wastage of medieval life,
even omitting the toll taken by war, is not easily comprehended
in these softer days. Many of the things we think most necessary
to health were lacking. The normal modem safeguards against
infection were unknown; the proper care of the sick was in a
rudimentary state; the dangers of childbirth were immense,
and the years of infancy a constant battle against plague and
fevers which were endemic in medieval England. To all these
must be added the limited variety of foodstuffs, as well as the
desperately scanty rations which at times were all that were
available.

As a result of these conditions the increase in population from
the Conquest to the time of the Great Plague of 1349 was very
slow. If we take the figure commonly accepted, the population
in 1066 was some z\ millions, and the most optimistic estimate
of that of 1349 does not exceed 5 millions. This means that the
growth of population per annum over this period was only

1 Nun's Priest’s Tale , B. 11 . 4011-28.

EVERYDAY LIFE

240

0*147 per cent. Now if we imagine the average English village
to have been about 300 souls in number (i.e. some 60 families)
the rate of increase in the whole village was only 0*441 each
year. In other words the loss by death was so severe that it took
over two years to add one new individual to such a village
community.

From this it is easy to see how static conditions were in the
village, and what a limited number of young people there were
in any of them at any given time, and how limited the potential
list of marriageable men and women must have been. This was
by no means the only difficulty which faced the serf. The words
of Justice Belknap, in 1342, may serve to remind us of the con¬
dition in which the vast majority of peasants found themselves
at this time and for some centuries earlier. “There is no service
in the world”, he said, “which so quickly proves a man to be a
villain as making a fine for marriage.” 1 This fine went by the
name of “merchet”, and Vinogradoff and others—notably L. O.
Pike—have discussed fully the origin of the term and the wide¬
spread incidence of this service. 2 We need not labour this fur¬
ther, but may usefully note how very unevenly and with what
differing conditions “merchet” was enforced on various manors.
The serf being (in legal theory) a possession of the lord it
followed that all he possessed was also his lord’s, and his off¬
spring, in common with the offspring of his horses and cattle,
were both designated by the one word ( sequela ), and were looked
on as possessions. Hence they were all of some value to the lord,
and he often refused to allow man or woman (especially the
latter) to make any important decisions which might remove
them from his power without first obtaining (by payment in
general) his sanction.

As a preliminary we may usefully bear in mind that the sale of
marriage rights came to cover many possibilities in the course of
time. Merchet , strictly speaking, was a fine paid by a serf for the
marriage of a daughter within the manor. It was rapidly made
to cover the fine paid for such a marriage, either within or
without the manor, and also frequently was so stretched as to
include sons as well as daughters.

1 Y.B. is Ed. Ill (R.S.), xiii.

* Villainage, 153-6; Y.B. 15 Ed. Ill, xiv-xliiL

MARRIAGE

241

The question of marriage upon the manor presents small
difficulty. The serfs, in general, found themselves subjected to
little control. Unlike other people—the nobles, the great land¬
holders, the wards or the rich merchants—no one had much in¬
terest in their marriages among themselves and upon the same
manor. This still left both parties in the hands of the lord; and they,
and any future progeny, remained at his will and disposal. At
worst, and as a sign of ownership, a small fine was exacted: “they
must buy their blood.” 1 At best, they were allowed to many
freely one with another, and they found it worth while to see that
such a privilege was recorded when the custom of their manor
was written down. This we see on the manors of the monks of
Glastonbury, or on those of the canons of St Paul’s. 2 Needless
to say, if there was any special reason, e.g. if the girl would her¬
self inherit her parent’s holding in due course, the lord’s consent
to her marriage was necessary', 3 since her husband would have
to discharge the duties which went with the holding.

The real difficulties began when marriage outside the manor
was contemplated, or when marriage with one of free birth either
in or out of the manor was in question. Marriage off the manor
involved an entirely different set of considerations, unless both
manors belonged to the same lord. If they did not, the marriage
meant the loss of property' to one of the lords, and he, not un¬
reasonably, expected compensation. This compensation (some¬
times called redemptio or forismaritagium) w r as fixed at various
prices, but does not seem at any time to have been nearly so
heavy in England as it was in France until the end of the twelfth
century. 4 It is rare to find a payment of more than a few shillings
entered in the rolls: the most unsatisfactory conditions were
those obtaining on some estates which left the amount of the
fine to be settled by the serf with his lord on the best terms he
could get. Even here, as on the Ramsey manors, custom had

1 Cust. Roff. 12, cf. 33; Hist. MSS . Com. Wells, 1, 327; Crondal Records ,
64, 150; Selden Soc. n, 27; Camb. Antiq. Soc. xxvil, 164, etc.

8 Glas . Rent. 83, 92; D.S.P. cxxv.

* Cust. Roff. 12.

4 Cf. Bloch, Liberti et servitude persormelles au moyen-dge, 15 n. 23. “Les
amendes 6taient certainement tr&s fortes: allant, en droit, jusqu’a la con¬
fiscation des biens, selon une charte de X070... .11 y avait de tels abus qu’en
1385 le Parlement crut devoir se substituer au chapitre de Laon pour fixer le
taux d , une amende.* 1 See also, Luchaire, Les Institutions populaires, 302.

EVERYDAY LIFE

242

come to his aid, and it is generally stated that the amount of the
fine was not to exceed five shillings. 1 In order to protect them¬
selves serfs bought the right of marriage when they took over
their father’s land on succeeding, 2 or bargained with their lord
for the privilege of marrying “wheresoever they would”, or
“whenever they chose”, without hindrance from any manorial
authority. 3 And they went further: they paid to have such
special exemptions written down in the manor rolls to which they
might appeal if the memory of steward or bailiff ever proved
defective on this matter. 4

A further difficulty sometimes arose over the children of
such a marriage. To which lord did they belong? In France
there were endless disputes and claims upon this matter, and
highly complicated systems were invented to deal with the
problems of a single child or of an unequal number of children.
In England we have little evidence to guide us; but we may first
note that Glanvill laid it down that the children were proportion -
aliter divided between the two lords. 5 That this was no mere
theory is borne out by a quit claim to the monks of Chester
( c . 1216-40) by John Fitzalan, whereby if any of his villeins
takes a wife from those of Ince, or vice versa, a division of the
children should be made between him and the abbot, according
to the custom of the country. 6 This seems to argue that there was
a perfectly well-known custom, at any rate in this part of Eng¬
land, in the first half of the thirteenth century; while three
instances of about 1285 from the east of England 7 encourage the
belief that the custom was found on a number of manors, and
over a considerable area, until at least the end of this century.

Despite a multiplicity of local differences, so far it has not been
difficult to trace the guiding principle underlying the marriage
of serfs—they must “buy their blood” as the phrase goes. When
we come to the vexed question of mixed marriages—of marriages,

1 Ramsey Cart. 1, 384, 395, 472, 490. At Chatteris, however, they were
entirely at the will of their lord (1, 432, and cf. 416).

2 Abbots Langley , f. 1; U.L.C. Wynslowe , ff. 17 a, 20 a, 22 a.

8 V.C.H. Warwick , 11, 143; Hales Rolls t 420.

4 Wynslowe, 34 a, 45 a, 56 a; Abbots Langley , 20 b, 21 b.

6 Glanvill, op. cit. lib. 5, cap. 6.

• Chester Chart. 210, No. 313.

* Norf. Arch . xvn, 319.

THE MIXED MARRIAGE

243

that is, between free and bond—the subject becomes very com¬
plicated and gave the medieval lawyers many a happy hour. The
Leges Henrici , Britton, Glanvill and Bracton all lay down rules
and counter-rules in bewildering variety; but

ultimately, ‘‘the better opinion of our books” was that marriage of a
female serf with a free man, other than her lord, did not absolutely
enfranchise her, but merely made her free during the marriage....
In the converse case in which a bondman marries a free woman, he of
course is not enfranchised though Bracton’s doctrine would make the
children free if born in her free tenement,

but doubtfully so if born in his unfree tenement. 1 * *

Apart from personal status, mixed marriages between free and
unfree raised difficult points of inheritance and the like. In a
lawsuit of 1277 on the manor of Hales concerning a freeholding,
it was shown that one of the parties interested had married a
bondman. Her claim, thereafter, was quietly dropped, as by so
marrying her rights (for the time being at any rate) had lapsed.-
The prevailing custom is clearly stated about the same time
(1275) in a Northampton manor court at Wedon Beck, when “the
full court declares that in case any woman shall have altogether
quitted the Lord’s domain and shall marry a free man, she may
return and recover what right and claim she has in any land: but
if she has married a serf then she cannot do this during the
lifetime of the serf, but after his death she may”. 8 From this we
can see that to be of free condition in itself is not a thing that can
be lost altogether, though it may become inoperative in such
circumstances as these, and if the will of the lord is sufficiently
strong, or manorial custom sufficiently undeveloped, it may be
hard to reassert one’s status after a lapse of years.

The widow, who had inherited her husband’s property, or
some dowry therefrom, was subjected to considerable control by
her lord. In general she was not allowed to re-marry without
permission, 4 * and the lord looked with some anxiety as to where

1 Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. 1, 423. See full discussion there and in
Villainage , 61-3.

z Hales Rolls , 87-8. Cf. Lit. Cant. 1, 520.

* Selden Soc. n, 24; E.H.R. xx, 480. But note Abbots Langley , 366, where
the tenement reverts to the lord on marriage to a free man.

4 Glouc. Cart . in, 208, a 10; Sussex Rec. Soc. xxxi, 102; Durham Halmote

Rolls, 11.

EVERYDAY LIFE

244

her choice would fall. If, as often happened, she wished to
withdraw from his manor altogether he was faced with a serious
loss, not only of the revenues arising from personal dues and
fines, but also of the services or their equivalents due from her
holding. We find women, therefore, forced to pay for leave to
re-marry, or to withdraw from the manor. 1 Conversely, a man
wishing to enter a manor, having married a woman holding land
therein, finds himself forced to pay for such a privilege. 2 Other¬
wise, as on a manor of the monks of Canterbury, the land could
be taken into the hands of the lord. The prior wrote to his
official at Risborough to enquire which would be most to his
advantage: to accept a fine of five marks or to seize the land! 3

Worse than these payments was the fact that at times the lord
forced his serfs to marry when it suited his interests. We see this
in a number of cases, especially on the manor of Hales, where the
Abbot again and again attempted to force men into marriages
they had no wish for. In 1274, “John of Romsley and Nicholas
Sewal are given till next court to decide as to the widows offered
them”. At that court, three weeks later, “Nicholas Sewal is
given to next Sunday to decide as to the widow offered to him in
the presence of the cellarer ” who held the court. 4 Nothing more
is heard of either John or Nicholas, so probably they submitted.
A few years later (11 Dec. 1279) Thomas Robins of Oldbury
was ordered to take Agatha of Halesowen to wife. He said he
would rather be fined; and, because he could find no guarantors,
it was ordered that he should be distrained. On 7 January 1280,
he is again distrained to take a wife as ordered, and on 23 January
he paid a fine of three shillings, and so the matter ended. 5
Similar cases occurred on the manors of the monks of St Albans
and elsewhere, 6 while an instance on the manor of Brightwaltham
in 1335 will help to explain why the lord was often anxious to
bring about some marriage, and so provide a widow or heiress

1 Wakefield Rolls , 1, 256; 11, 49.

2 Hales Rolls , 415; Wakefield Rolls , 11, 192.

8 Lit. Cant. 1, 501. Cf. the case at Wisbech, where a holding is seized by the
Bishop of Ely till he is satisfied by a fine. C.R. Wisbech 33 Ed. I.

4 Hales Rolls, 55, 57.

5 Op. cit . 119,121, 124. Cf. the case of R. Ridyacre who also refused and
apparently succeeded in neither taking a wife or paying a fine, 121, 124, 126.

8 Abbots Langley 13, 25; Tatenkill , II, 2.

MARRIAGE AND CANON LAW

2 45

with a husband, and himself with the certainty of labour-services,
dues, and perhaps a future inheritor. At Brightwaltham no less
than six widows, who had come into possession of their husbands’
holdings without being able to render the labour that was due,
were ordered, if they wished to retain their land, “to provide
themselves with husbands”. 1 A late piece of evidence comes
from the Petition of the Commons to the King in 1394, when it
was asserted that the religious houses caused their serfs to marry
free women with inheritances, so that the religious could thereby
claim the estates. 2

The lord’s concern to restrict marriages within the limits of
the manor no doubt seriously limited the choice of the young,
but what was still more important it brought them into diffi¬
culties with the Church. “Before 1215 Canon Law forbade all
marriages of kinsfolk to the seventh degree; that is, between all
who had a common great-great-great-great-great-grandfather.
Innocent III, in the great Lateran Council, reduced these prohi¬
bitions, ‘because they cannot now be kept without grievous
harm’; thenceforth, the prohibition extended only to the fourth
degree, but this must be kept with inviolable strictness ”. 3 It is
easy to see how impossible it was on innumerable small medieval
manors to keep this rule strictly. Either a man had to remain
unmarried, or pay the increased fine for taking a wife from out¬
side, or break the law of the Church. “Even when Innocent had
softened the law”, writes Dr Coulton, “at least half the bond-
men in a normal village had probably some common great-great¬
grandfather with any prospective bridegroom or bride”. 4 We
have only to look at the earliest parish registers to see how inter¬
married village communities became, and the same thing has
continued, to a lesser degree, even down to our own day. 5 Any
small village cemetery in France or Switzerland bears instant
confirmation of this fact, and it was also noted as a characteristic
of village life in the English enquiry concerning rural conditions
in Germany in 1870. 6

Closely associated with the fine for marriage was that imposed

1 Page, op. cit . 36 n. 2. 2 Wcdsingkam , 258.

* Quoted from Med . Village, Appendix 16.

4 Op. cit. 472.

6 V.CJI. Survey, iv, 413 n. 31.

Land Tenure Reports, 387.

EVERYDAY LIFE

246

for incontinency— Leyrwite, or lecherwite , as it was called. As it
is put in a Glastonbury record, the lord must have his fine
“ whenever one of the bondswomen is unchaste of her body,
whereby my lord loseth the sale of her”. 1 Since in strict law the
serf was the absolute property of her master, anything she did to
depreciate her value was to his loss. Hence the lord felt he had
every right to be interested; and, as Maitland puts it, “to exercise
a paternal control in the interests of morality”. We may perhaps
doubt how far morality was an urgent consideration: here was
another opportunity to make a profit out of his serfs—and the
lord took it! The Court Rolls—such as those of Halesowen, for
example—illustrate the constant vigilance that the lord and his
agents exerted: cases of immorality occur as a constant item of
business and the offender is fined. 2 To make doubly sure, the
onus of reporting such cases was a communal responsibility, and
we find manorial jurors fined for neglecting to present offenders
at the earliest possible moment. 3

At the same time, it must be remembered, that incontinency
was primarily an offence which came under the jurisdiction of the
Church: the lord, therefore, was not only concerned because his
property was depreciated, but also because the Church exacted
fines from the serf (which theoretically were fines from him).
Hence the rule that stewards should make enquiry in the manor
court “whether any bondman’s unmarried daughter hath com¬
mitted fornication and been convened in chapter, and what she
hath given to the [rural] dean for her correction”. 4 Two cases
from the Abbot of Ramsey’s manors will illustrate the lord’s point
of view: “Richard Dyer a married man was convicted in the
chapter [court] of adultery with a certain woman.. .and so lost
the chattels of the Lord . Therefore he is in mercy. The amerce¬
ment is forgiven.” 5 The words in italics show the gravamen of
the charge: in this case the lord was merciful, but his rights were
put on record and thus safeguarded.

An even more interesting case is reported from the same manor

1 Villainage, 154.

2 Op. cit . 107,120,124,161, 221, 230, etc. The Cartularies (e.g. Ramsey, I,
309 , 3 H> Z 1 !, 339 > etc.) constantly assert the lord’s right to leyrwyte.

* Op. cit. 310; Abbots Langley, 26 b; Wroxall Records, 29.

4 Selden Soc. rv, 102.

5 Ibid . n, 97.

INCONTINENCY

247

(Gedding) during the reign of Edward II. The chief pledges
report that

John Monk still continues his lechery with Sarah Hewen, wife of
Simon Hewen, and is constantly attending divers chapter courts where
frequently he loses the Lord's goods by reason of his adultery with
Sarah, as has often been presented before now; nor will he be chastened.
Therefore let him be put in the stocks. And afterwards he made fine
with one mark . 1

Attendance at archidiaconal or ruridecanal courts and the fear
of being summoned thither was always present in the wrong¬
doer’s mind. Sometimes, of course, a rascally summoner, such
as Chaucer depicts, would allow him a year’s wantoning with his
concubine for a quart of ale, 2 and even higher officials were
capable of accepting bribes. “Purs is the erchdecknes helle”, is
more than a disreputable flourish: Gower only says what pro¬
fessed moralists were saying, when he cries out against the
ecclesiastical courts, and declares “in all countries men may
nowadays buy off their sins of the flesh... without repentance...
thus our Dean covets sin rather than honesty; for he finds the
prostitute more profitable than the nun”. 3 Nevertheless, not all
were able to avoid an actual appearance, as we may see from the
records of the ruridecanal courts of Wych in the diocese of
Worcester. These present an interesting account of the actual
proceedings which were held in different parish churches of the
deanery at three-weekly intervals. 4 Not only fines, but actual
corporal punishment was inflicted, and the disgraced culprit was
forced to do public penance.

At one court, for example, we read that Thomas of Bradley
confessed his misbehaviour with Agnes, daughter of Gilbert the
smith. Thomas was flogged, while Agnes was suspended for
contumacy and then excommunicated. This frightened her, and
she afterwards was reconciled, confessed and was flogged.
Another couple, Henry of Frankley and Matilda Honderwode*

1 Ibid . 11, 98. 2 C.T. Prologue, 649.

3 Mirour de VOtnme , v, 20,089 ff. Cf. Gascoigne, Loci e Libro Veritatum „

I23ff.

4 Wore. Hist. Soc. Collectanea (1912). The medieval deanery of Wych
included the two modem deaneries of Droitwich and Bromsgrove. Four
sessions of die court are recorded, which dealt with 20, 22, 10 and 3 cases
respectively.

EVERYDAY LIFE

248

were brought before the court for fornication. The woman con¬
fessed and abjured her sin, and was flogged once through the
market place. The man was obdurate and was excommunicated.
So the tale of offenders runs on. 1 The Hereford visitation also
shows how prevalent immorality was in the parishes, and how
the culprits were formally named to the ecclesiastical authorities
at intervals. 2 Little, however, that was effective was, or could
be done to prevent such a state of affairs. It was, and has re¬
mained, an inseparable part of village life, both in England and
abroad, right down the ages. The Normandy village custom,
whereby a marriage did not take place until it was evident that
children would be bom, has a long history behind it.

When the peasant felt his end approaching, what rights had he
in the bestowal of his own personal goods? The right of the un¬
free man to make a will was for long disputed. It opened up
diflicullj and dangerous questions, and many lords were strongly
opposed to it. Yet, as the serf found his little personal possessions
growing in number and value, the question of what would happen
to them after his death became a matter of interest to him. No
man wished to die intestate “for, unless death was so sudden
that there was no opportunity for confession, to die intestate was
probably to die unconfessed; and of the future state of a person
who had thus died there could be no sure and certain hope. Thus
there arose a feeling that intestacy, except in case of sudden
death, was disgraceful”. 8 Furthermore, the Church taught that
a man’s last hours were of supreme importance, and encouraged
and exhorted him to “make a good end”. Among other ways of
accomplishing this was the comparatively simple one of leaving
a gift to the Church, so that prayers and masses might be offered
up on behalf of himself, of his family and of all Christian souls.
From this it was a simple step to make provision also for the
living so far as he was able. The law forbade him to leave his
land to others than his heirs (and indeed, for the serf, there could
be no question of this, for he only held the land from his lord),

1 The Editor points out that other rolls exist dealing with the working of
the ruridecanal courts: one belonging to Lincoln of 1337, and another in the
British Museum, dated 1436 (Add. MSS. 11,821).

* See below, pp. 332*!.

* Holdsworth, op. cit. ni, 535; and cf. Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. II,
354 - 7 .

THE PEASANT'S WILL 249

but his personal property he could dispose of as he would. In
his last moments, therefore, the priest having come, his con¬
fession made, and at peace with God, he could turn to make
provision for those who would survive him. There and then, in
the presence of witnesses, he made known his ultima voluntas —
and we may readily understand that there was little need to write
down the few simple bequests of his personal property which were
all he could make. Nor was it necessary according to law. The
nuncupative, i.e. spoken, will only required the presence of two
witnesses (and there is even some doubt whether either of
these need have been a priest). 1 How simple, then, in circum¬
stances such as these, for men to forget or to ignore the fact that
what they were giving away was not in strict legal theory theirs
to dispose of. However the Church may have viewed the matter,
many lay lords (and many ecclesiastics in their temporal capacity
as holders of manors) saw much danger in such practices. What
was this ‘ 4 personal property ’ ’ which the peasant was bequeathing
to his friends? It was, according to the law, the property of the
lord—had not the Abbot of Burton told his serfs that they
owned nothing but their bellies—and to admit that a man had
the right to bequeath any property was tantamount to relin¬
quishing any rights in it. The lawyers finally got round the
difficulty by saying that the lord undoubtedly had the right of
seizure, but if he did not exercise it, the serf's will was valid.
The lord, however, could step in and take the chattels at any
time before probate of the will had been obtained. 2

The Church, in the thirteenth century, came out boldly on the
side of the serf. As early as 1261, Boniface, Archbishop of
Canterbury, had declared that the serf had the right to make a
will, 3 and this was reiterated at the Synod of Exeter in 1287. 4
Evidently opposition to this was encountered throughout the
country, for in 1292 this right was included in the list of grava¬
mina presented to the King by some of the Bishops. 5 Again, in
1295, Archbishop Winchelsey, when complaining to the Pope
of subterfuges adopted by the Secular Courts to usurp juris-

1 Wilkins, Concilia , u, 155, and Pollock and Maitland, op. cit . 11, 337 n. 5;

cf. Holdsworth, op. cit . in, 539.

* Swinburne, Testaments , 47, 48. 3 Lyndwood, Provincial 171.

4 Wilkins, Concilia , 11, 155. 5 Reg. Pontissara , 775.

EVERYDAY LIFE

250

diction which by right belonged to Ecclesiastics, mentions that
“testamenta laicorum defunctorum liberorum et aliorum qui
servilis conditionis reputantur per dominos Feudorum im-
pediuntur”. 1 Lastly, at the Synod of Winchester, in 1308, and
at Canterbury in 1328 and 1342, the Church repeated its claims
on behalf of the serf. 2 This continuous agitation was finally met
by a petition to the King from Parliament, which asked him to
disallow any testamentary rights to the serf, since this ‘ 4 * is against
reason”. The royal answer, “The King wills that law and reason
be done”, 3 shows that the Crown realised the thorny nature of
the matter, and that it were better left with only an oracular
answer.

We must not, of course, fall into the error of supposing that,
because the ecclesiastical hierarchy saw one side of this problem,
and endeavoured by threats of excommunication to enforce their
views, the whole Church throughout England was of their
opinion. It is to the credit of the Church that she took up this
attitude (the more so inasmuch as ecclesiastical holdings of land
were very large) but not every cleric was prepared to obey these
constitutions. As landowners, and therefore the lords of innu¬
merable serfs and their property, many ecclesiastics (especially
corporations, such as abbeys or monasteries) were loth to assent
to a rule which definitely weakened their control over their own
peasants. Thus the monks of Vale Royal in Cheshire, in the
fourteenth century, were still asserting that their bondmen
“could not make a will, nor dispose of anything, nor have or
give any thing of all their goods, but all their goods shall remain
wholly to the lord except a penny, which is called Masspenny,
and a *principal’ to the parish church”. 4 The importance, as it
seems to the monks, of maintaining such a claim is clear when
we read the rubric at the head of the document: “ These are the
conditions by reason of which the abbot and convent of Vale
Royal say that the people of Over are their bondmen (: neiffez ).” 6
Another document, however, suggests that the monks were pre-

1 Reg. Pontissara, 203.

2 Wilkins, op. cit. 11, 293, 553, 7<>5.

3 Rot. Pari. 11, 149 &, 150 a.

4 Vale Royal Ledger Book , 121. Principal = mortuary, see p. 144.

Ibid. 120.

THE WIDOW

251

pared to allow the making of a will so long as it was done with
the licence of the lord abbot. 1

It may well be that many lords protected themselves as did the
Abbot of Ramsey on one of his manors. There a will was only
valid if made in the presence of the reeve or bailiff 2 —possibly as
a reminder of the lord’s rights and to safeguard his interests. On
other Ramsey manors the serf was more generously treated, and
allowed to make his will without either bailiff or reeve being
present. 3 Similarly, on the St Albans’ manors the peasants could
make wills (presumably unfettered by the presence of the lord’s
representative) which were proved before the cellarer. Those of
free men were dealt with by the superior court at St Albans
itself. 4

Even with these limitations, however, the fact that wills were
encouraged by the Church, and allowed by more liberal lords, is
of considerable importance, and marked a definite stage in the
struggle for emancipation. The right to leave their personal
goods to whomsoever they would was not compatible with the
legalist’s doctrines, but must have made for happiness and a
sense of security on all those manors where it flourished.

The death of the head of the family saw his wife and children
deprived of some of their goods, which were taken as “heriot”
or “mortuary”, and it also left them to face the problem of suc¬
cession to his unfree holdings. In theory the land belonged to the
lord and reverted to him on death, when he could re-allocate it
as he would. In very rare cases he allowed a different family to
take the holding and evicted the old tenants, but in general he
left the same family in possession, ceremonially admitting them
at the Manor Court, after due payment of gersuma and the
swearing of loyalty had been performed. Then, and only then,
could they feel safe as they saw the scribe making his entry of
the whole transaction in the Court Roll to which they could,
and did, appeal if their rights were challenged. In most manors
the widow seems to have enjoyed the privilege of holding the
tenement during her lifetime. This was called “Freebench”, and
she was entitled to hold it unmolested so long as she remained

1 Vale Royal Ledger Book, 119. 2 Ramsey Cart . 1, 477.

z Ibid. 1,384,411.

4 Wynslowe Rolls, 53 b. Cf. Seebohm, op . cit. 30.

EVERYDAY LIFE

252

unmarried and chaste. It was considered to be a sign of villein
tenure that the whole of the tenement went to the widow, rather
than only a third or a half as would be the case in a free holding,
or if the property were held at a fixed money rent. 1

Such was the general practice, but it is worth noting a few
examples of the ways in which men sought to protect themselves
against vagaries of their lord or the uncertainty of local custom.
At times, for instance, men would make a fictitious surrender of
their holding during their lifetime, and would receive it back
again, after payment of a fine, with the express provision, enrolled
in the court, that son or daughter were to succeed. 2 Or again,
a man obtained leave to make over half his holding to his wife,
to last for the term of her life, 3 thus making sure that she would
be provided for in any circumstance. A long series of customs,
said to date from 1343, show us in detail the arrangements on
the manors of the Abbess of Shaftesbury; and, in their compli¬
cated ingenuity, they are evidence of the many possibilities that
were available there, and probably on many other manors. 4 The
jus viduae was well enough established throughout England to be
regarded as a right on which the widow could reckon, and with
which she could make bargains or demise at her convenience.

The widow who found herself left with her husband’s holding
was not ipso facto in an enviable position. Everything depended
on the circumstances. If she had a large holding, and no able-
bodied sons to cultivate it and to render her necessary obligations
on the lord’s demesne, she at once found herself in difficulties.
The lord could not countenance his land being allowed to de¬
teriorate through lack of cultivation, nor could he do without the
work she (or her deputies) were liable to perform on his own
lands. Consequently, if the widow was unable to carry out these
liabilities, she was forced to surrender her holding or to make
arrangements (with the lord’s sanction) for the proper per¬
formance of her duties. If she surrendered them outright she

1 Pollock and Maitland, op. cit . 11, 418-26. References to the widow’s
right will be found widespread; e.g. E.H.R. April 1928, 219; Durham
Halmote Rolls , 9, 18, 85; Suff. Inst. Arch. 11, 232; Som. Arch. Soc. xxx, 77;
Selden Soc. rv, 121, etc.

* Page, Camb. Hist. Soc. in, 127; cf. Crowland Estates , 109 ff.

* Hales Rolls, 108.

4 Wilts Arch . Mag. v, 7ff.; cf. XLI, 174.

FAMILY AGREEMENTS

2 53

had nothing to live upon and must needs seek the charity of a
relative or neighbour. More frequently she made an agreement
with her relatives or some other person whereby she handed over
her land in return for an adequate home and proper provision
for her food and clothing. On some manors, at least, this matter
was not left as a private affair, which could be easily repudiated,
but constituted a definite binding agreement, which was enrolled
at the Manor Court and received the lord’s assent. We may take
as a good example a case at Hales, in 1281, wherein a son and
his mother came to an agreement whereby Agnes, widow of
Thomas Brid, surrendered to Thomas her elder son

all the land she held in the vill or in other places, on condition that
he will, so long as she lives, honourably and fully provide for her as
follows. At Michaelmas next she shall receive from him a quarter of
wheat, a quarter of oats, and a bushel of peas. On All Saints’ Day
(1 Nov.) she shall have five cart-loads of sea-coal. Eight days before
Christmas she is to have a quarter of wheat, a quarter of oats and a
bushel of peas; on Good Friday a quarter of wheat and a quarter of
oats; at Pentecost 55. of good money; and at Midsummer half a
quarter of wheat and a quarter of oats. Also Thomas engages to build
at his own expense a suitable house for Agnes to live in, 30 feet in
length and 14 feet in width within the walls, of timber with three new
doors and two windows. And the aforesaid shall be carried out fully
from year to year so long as Agnes shall live. Thomas shall bring the
things to her door, or send them by one of his family. And Thomas
will answer to the lord for all customs and services known to belong to
the land. If Thomas has not the grain ready at the time, he must pay
her its value according to the price of the better grain in the market,
outside seed com. And if it should happen that the terms of this
agreement are not carried out Thomas binds himself to pay half a
mark to the Pittancer of the Convent, so often as Agnes, with the
testimony of two lawful men, shall find it necessary to appeal to the
Abbot and the Convent. If this should be the case Agnes can forth¬
with resume possession of the land and deal with it as she pleases in
spite of the agreement. And to ensure the perpetual force and
memory of the agreement, before it was recited word for word in the
full court, itwas written down in the rental of the Abbey by the wish of
both parties, Nicholas then being Abbot, and brother Geoffrey the
Cellarer. 1

Here we see that Agnes is to have a house, money and corn at
stated intervals, while other entries in these same rolls show that
1 Hales Rolls , 166.

EVERYDAY LIFE

254

such arrangements were not uncommon. Sometimes a father
makes over his holding to his son, 1 or a brother to a brother, 2 or
more rarely an old man makes an arrangement with the lord. 3
Sometimes elderly people make arrangements which they hope
will make their declining years easier, and hand over half their
tenement at once, and the whole upon their death, on condition
that the recipients serve them as long as they live. 4 All this is
peculiar to the manor of Hales, only in so far as it is more fully
stated there than in most other places. The Durham Halmote
Rolls , for instance, meant much the same as is fully expressed in
the arrangement between Agnes and Thomas Brid, when they
said that William takes his father John’s holding and promises to
sustain him “honorifice pro posse suo”. 5 On another Durham
manor the father is to be lodged and given 3 rods of land, i.e.
one in each field, for his own, 6 and Dr F. M. Page has shown how
a similar practice obtained on the Cambridgeshire manors of the
monks of Crowland. There she finds that

the share varied in amount and detail, but preserved the same
essential characteristics. There was a “camera” or “ receptaculum ”
(defined in 1345 as one-third of a messuage) and usually a curtilage,
a toft or garden, and one strip of land “in croft” went with it. In
addition, a number of strips in the common-field were given—varying
from one to six, but the allowance was nearly always divided between
the three fields. 7

Widows then, like the old and feeble, were not uncared for
under the manorial regime, and the death of the head of the
family saw the rule pass into the hands of his widow and not into
those of one of his sons. So long as she remained unmarried
and chaste her rights remained intact. Thus, at High Bickling-
ton, in Devon, a widow is stated to have retained a life-interest
in the whole of the lands held by her husband (unless she had

1 Hales Rolls , 152, hi, 53; cf. Bed. Hist. Rec. Soc. x, 471.

2 Op. cit. 316.

8 Op. cit. 336; cf. Bed. Hist. Rec. Soc. xm, 338^, where a widow surrenders
a tenement to the Abbot of Wardon who gives her “in regard of charity” a
messuage and two pair of shoes at Christmas.

4 Op. cit. m, 38; cf. in, 55, 93.

5 Durham Halmote Rolls t 9; cf. Manor of Manydown (Hants Rec. Soc.),
130, where the son promises to sustain his father bene et competenter.

8 Op. cit. 10; cf. 85, 115.

7 Camb. Hist. Joum. in, 130; and cf. Crowland Estates , 109 ff.

THE SECOND HUSBAND

255

previously relinquished it) and this interest could only be for¬
feited by some act of her own, such as re-marriage without
permission or unchastity. Her re-marriage was obviously a
matter of consequence, both to her lord and to her family, for it
put a new man in virtual charge of the family holding for the
time being. He might prove to be a good or a bad husbandman,
and this would seriously affect them all. He seems to have had
no more than a temporary right to the holding, however, for,
according to the few cases that came before the Manor Courts, the
rights of the children of the first marriage to the holding seem
always to be protected at the expense of the husband and any
children of the second marriage, unless the woman had been
allowed to surrender her right and seisin, and it had been
granted in court to her new husband. 1 Such an act meant that
any children of her first marriage were forever barred from her
holding, and we may well believe that this did not often happen,
but that, in general, a second husband was only allowed to enter
on his wife’s holding on sufferance, and for the term of her life—
and often only during the minority of her children. In himself
he had no rights, and on the death of his wife was forced to give
up the holding. 2

The other reason liable to cause the widow’s holding to be
forfeited was unchastity, for the lord had an interest in her re¬
marriage, and objected to any action on her part which would
make that less possible or which would tend to cheapen her in
the eyes of possible suitors. A West Country custom, reported
on several manors, says that the widow could recover her holding
if she rode into court on a ram, repeating the jingle :

Here I am,

Riding upon a black ram
Like a whore, as I am...

Therefore, I pray you, Mr Steward,

Let me have my land again. 3

On the death of the widow the holding went in toto to one of
the children. The division of the holding was repugnant to
medieval law, and in some places the elder, in some the younger,

1 Selden Soc. 11, 29.

2 Ancient Deeds , iv, 175 ; Cal . Inquis. Misc . II, 76 (No. 299)*

8 Law Mag . New Series, xm, 33, and cf. references there.

EVERYDAY LIFE

256

son inherited. No convincing reasons have been given for this
curious state of affairs, and its history is still obscure. “ Borough
English”, as it came to be called by an accident—the succession
of the youngest son—was widespread, but not universal, 1 except
in Kent, where all conditions of land-holding were peculiar.

1 For full discussion and references, see Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. n,
279. A useful article in Suff. Inst. Arch, n, 227 ff., notes and analyses the
variations of this custom, and says that Borough English (or Gavelkind) was
law on 84 Suffolk manors, 28 Surrey manors and 135 Sussex manors.

“ Merrie England”

CHAPTER X

“MERRIE ENGLAND”

T he picture which has slowly been building itself up in
these pages has shown the medieval peasant in his home
and in his fields, at church and at the Manor Court, and
has occupied itself with many of his activities. But what, it may
be asked, of his leisure? Where is the £< Merrie England” which
for long has been associated with this age? The questions demand
an answer, both because so much absurdity has been written
about a past which never existed in reality, and also because it
would be a patently untrue picture of any society which omitted
all account of its lighter moments.

Yet, as a preliminary, let us take one more rapid survey of the
peasant’s daily life, superficial and imperfect though it must in¬
evitably be. We cannot too constantly remember that much that
to us is picturesque or even amusing, bore a different aspect to
the men of the thirteenth century, and we must ever be on our
guard lest we impute our feelings and ideas to those remote
times. When Dr Dryasdust of York, as Sir Walter Scott
remarks,

is placed in his own snug parlour, and surrounded by all the comforts
of an Englishman’s fireside, he is not half so much inclined to believe
that his own ancestors led a very different life from himself—that the
shattered tower, which now forms a vista from his window, held a
baron who would have hung him up at his own door without any
form of trial—that the hinds, by whom his little pet farm is managed,
would, a few centuries ago, have been his slaves.

We shall be making a rough guess at the medieval peasant’s
condition if we observe the present circumstances of the small
peasant-proprietor in France, Germany or Austria. Tens of
thousands of French “small-holders” are facing the daily
struggle now that their forbears endured many generations ago.
They are freed of week-works and boon-works, they no longer
are subject to certain “customs of the country” which exact
tallage or chevage, or the like, nor are they forced to grind here

z6o

MERRIE ENGLAND

nor sell there. But the land is always there: harsh, exacting, in¬
satiate, and rapidly overcoming the puny efforts man can put into
it unless he is constantly fighting. And the fight is unending—
the harvest is but the signal for the autumn ploughing; and the
autumn ploughing for the sowing, and so on. Season follows
season: the rhythmic passage of the year drags in its wake the rural
society. And this society, now as then, is a unit, a little world of
its own. Necessarily the great world affects it, and the fair once a
year or the weekly markets take the villager some miles out of his
own fields just as they did in the Middle Ages. But otherwise, the
village is the unit, and there in the main life goes on as it always
has and (seemingly, to the peasant at least) always will. There are
a few days or hours of happiness, but on the morrow the old
routine reasserts itself. Always, as the day wears on to evening,
in the falling dusk the horses and oxen are put into their stalls
for the night. The cows are milked and bedded down. Lights
move about the farm outbuildings as the tired men assure them¬
selves that everything is well for the night. Meanwhile, the
housewife, busied at her fire, tends the soup and makes all ready
for the men’s return. When at last they come and gather round
the table, set out with its rude and meagre cutlery and platters,
the evening meal begins—bread, soup, cheese, beer—the same
meal eaten by peasants since the beginning of time as it seems.
There they talk or jest or argue as the occasion serves; and, after
the meal, perhaps sit awhile by the dying embers before fatigue
calls them to sleep, only in order to begin yet another day.

That is the background: and in that endless routine most of
their life is spent, and so it was with their ancestors six centuries
ago. There are, however, a few days now and then given over to
festivity, and a few hours snatched from this grim travail with
the soil. It is to these that we must now turn, in order to see yet
another side of medieval peasant life.

We may well start with John Stow’s translation of the famous
account by Fitzstephen of the manner in which the Londoner of
the twelfth century refreshed himself when work was put on one
side.

Every yeare also at Shrovetuesday, (that we may begin with
childrens sports, seeing we al have beene children,) the schoole boyes
do bring Cockes of the game to their Master, and all the forenoone

LONDON SPORTS

261

delight themselves in Cockfighting: after dinner all the youthes go
into the fields to play at bal. The schollers of every schoole have their
ball, or [staff], in their hands: the auncient and wealthy men of the
Citie come foorth on horse-backe to see the sport of the yong men, and
to take part of the pleasure in beholding their agilitie. Every Friday
in Lent a fresh company of young men comes into the field on horse-
backe, and the best horsman conducteth the rest. Then march forth
the citizens sons, and other yong men with disarmed launces and
shields, and there practise feates of warre.... In Easter holy dayes they
fight battailes on the water. A shield is hanged on a pole, fixed in the
midst of the stream; a boat is prepared without oares to bee caried by
the violence of the water, and in the fore part thereof standeth a yong
man readie to give charge upon the shield with his launce; if so be
hee breaketh his launce against the shield, and doth not fall, he is
thought to have performed a worthy deed. If so be without breaking
his launce he runneth strongly against the shield, downe he falleth
into the water, for the boat is violently forced with the tide; but on
each side stand great numbers to see, and laugh therat. In the holy
dayes all the Somer the youths are exercised in leaping, dancing,
shooting, wrastling, casting the stone, and practising their shields:
the Maidens trip in their Timbrels, and daunce as long as they can
well see. In Winter, every holy day before dinner, the 'Soares pre¬
pared for brawne are set to fight, or else Buis and Beares are bayted.

When the great fenne or Moore, which watreth the wals of the Citie
on the Northside, is frozen, many yong men play upon the yce; some,
striding as wide as they may, do slide swiftly... some tie bones to their
feete, and under their heeles, and shoving themselves by a little picked
staffe, doe slide as swiftly as a bird flieth in the ayre, or an arrow out of
a Crossebow.. .thus farre Fitzstephen of Sportes. [Stow continues]
Now for sportes and pastimes yearely used. First, in the feaste of
Christmas,.. .every mans house, as also their parish churches, were
decked with holme, Ivie, Bayes, and whatsoever the season of the
yeare afforded to be greene.... In the moneth of May, namely on May
day in the morning, every man, except impediment, would walke
into the sweete meadows and greene woods, there to rejoyce their
spirites with the beauty and savour of sweete flowers, and with the
harmony of birds praysing God in their kind. 1

We must discount something for the romantic glow cast over
the past by Stow’s eager imagination, and make other necessary
allowances, but when all is done, does not this passage suggest
to us innumerable happy hours spent on water or in the fields,
not only by the Londoners, but by the peasants of the days

1 A Survey of London, 1603, 92. Holme =holly.

262 MERRIE ENGLAND

of Fitzstephen and for centuries afterwards? In the countryside,
even if the opportunities for merriment were more limited, the
great Church festivals of Christmas and Easter, or the more
popular festivals associated with the harvests, gave considerable
opportunities for enjoyment. At Christmas, for‘example, work
ceased altogether for some fourteen or fifteen days, and often a
feast was provided for the peasantry by the lord. 1 Thus in 1314
the customal of Northcory in the diocese of Wells tells us
of one William Brygge, a villein who had the right of u gestum
and medale.. .but he must bring with him to the gestum his own
cloth, cup and trencher, and take away all that is left on his
cloth, and he shall have for himself and his neighbours one
wastel [loaf] cut in three, for the ancient Christmas game to be
played with the said waster'. 2

What exactly took place at the “Christmas game” is a matter
of some dispute, and we need not stay to argue it, but from fre¬
quent references to “the Christmas play”, or to expenses during
the Christmas season, we may infer that the manor house saw
much conviviality and mirth during the period brought to a
close by Twelfth Night. On one of the manors of St Paul's, for
example, a peasant was appointed to watch all night and to keep
up a good fire in the hall, 3 while on many Glastonbury manors
there was a feast at the manor hall. The tenants cut and carried
the logs for the Yule fire: each brought his faggot of brushwood,
lest the cook should serve his portion raw, and each had his own
dish and mug, and a napkin of some kind, “if he wanted to eat
off a cloth”. There was plenty of bread and broth and beer, with
two kinds of meat. At East Pennard the serfs had the right to
four places at the Yule feast and each man was entitled to have a
fine white loaf, and a good helping of meat, and to sit drinking
after dinner in the manor hall. 4

To while away the long winter nights popular amusements
were everywhere to be found. They were essentially of the folk,
although they had been much affected by Christian elements, so
that it was a strange mixture of pagan and Christian that had

1 Law Mag. N.S. xiv, 351. Cf. Tusser, ed. Hartley, 122; Sussex Rec. Soc.
xxxi, 15, 18, 23, 42, etc.

3 Hist. MSS. Com . Wells> 1, 335.

8 D.S.P. xxxiv.

4 Glas. Rentalia, 244. For details, see 97, 126, 127.

CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES 263

evolved by the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. All this is
admirably dealt with in Sir E. K. Chambers’ fascinating volume,
The Medieval Stage , where the development of the various
elements which went to the making of the medieval play are
analysed and discussed. To the lord and his dependents, how¬
ever, the strange history behind the Christmas festivities or the
setting of the Midsummer watch were mysteries of which they
knew or suspected nothing. Christmas, to them, was a brief
respite in the yearly cycle of events, bringing its central and
heavenly message, but also bringing much that was of the earth
earthy. The villager, gaping admiringly at the pranks and
buffoonery of the mummers’ play, or joining in the choruses of
the songs, or taking part in the dispute between the holly and
the ivy, in which the young men and women of the village all took
sides, forgot for a while the fatigues of the autumn and the ardours
of the coming spring.

The spirit of the festival is well caught by a carol:

Make we merry both more and less ,

For now is the time of Christmas I
Let no man come into this hall,

Groom, page, nor yet marshall,

But that some sport he bring withal!

For now is the time of Christmas!

If that he say he can not sing,

Some other sport then let him bring!

That it may please at this feasting
For now is the time of Christmas!

If he say he can nought do,

Then for my love ask him no mo!

But to the stocks then let him go!

For now is the time of Christmas Z 1

So from time to time throughout the year the great religious
festivals gave the peasant a few hours of pleasure making: the
ceremonies connected with Easter would enthral him with such
dramatic incidents as crawling to the Cross on the Good Friday,
or the rending of the veil which had hidden the sanctuary
throughout Lent; or perhaps, if he were near some great Abbey

1 A. W. Pollard, Fifteenth Century Prose and Verse , 86 . More and less = rich
and poor. See also Chambers and Sidgwick, Early English Lyrics , 232 ff. and
R. L. Greene, The Early English Carols , 4ff. for other examples.

264 MERRIE ENGLAND

church, he might behold the elaborate miming which portrayed
to the congregation the rising of Christ and His absence from the
tomb. Then again at the Corpus Christi feast he would take part
in the processions, and enjoy such rough dramatic representa¬
tions of the events of the Scriptures as the wandering players,
or the nearby town gilds could perform. Less closely associated
with the Church were the great popular festivals of May Day,
or of Midsummer Day, when the whole village gave itself up to
mirth and dance. “From a very early period in England the
summer festivals were celebrated elaborately with dance and
song and games, and there are many references to them in the
fourteenth century ,, 5 1 and these references make no suggestion
that the games are new. On the contrary they tacitly assume
their antiquity, and “somour games” may be looked on as one
of the oldest elements of English social life.

As well as these ceremonies which were part of the communal
life of the whole village we must also notice the way in which the
great occasions of life in the individual families were celebrated.
Birth, marriage and death were all eagerly seized upon by the
peasant as a welcome relaxation from his daily cares. Marriage,
indeed, was so scandalously made an occasion of immoderate
mirth that we have a constant series of episcopal pronounce¬
ments against the lax behaviour of those attending the marriage
ceremony. Bishop Poore, about 1223, ordered that marriages
“be celebrated reverently and with honour, not with laughter or
sport, or in taverns or at public potations or feasts”. 2 A number
of similar injunctions during the next hundred years show how
difficult it was to keep these “bride ales” (as they were often
called) within reasonable limits. 3 After the church ceremony
the party would adjourn to a private house, or to the village ale¬
house, and there drink heavily of the ale which had been brewed
for the occasion, and the profits of which went to the new bride. 4
These “bride ales” attracted such characters as Perkin, the
prentice of The Cokes Tale , and the Wife of Bath herself. 5

1 Baskervill, Studies in Philology , xvn, 5iff. and references there.

4 Charters and Docs, of Salisbury (R.S.), 154; cf. Wilkins, op. cit. 1, 581.

* See Wilkins, op. cit. 1, 595; n, 135, 513. E.H.R. xxxi, 294-5.

4 ■?“ rr Pl QWman > B. n, 54; C. in, 56; and for much information of later
conditions, see Brand’s Popular Antiquities , ed. Ellis (1841), 11, 90 ff.

5 C.T. Cokes Tale , 1 . 11; Wife of Bath*s Prologue , 1 . 558.

FUNERALS 265

Funeral ceremonies were also the occasion of much rude
merriment* The vigil or wake had its serious moments, but it
also had much about it that caused moralists to link “ wakes” and
taverns together as leading to sin. In 1342, a church council de¬
nounced wakes as giving opportunities for fornication and theft, 1
while a century earlier bishops had prohibited singing, games
and choruses during the time the dead person still lay in the
house. 2 Although we have little direct evidence for our period
the constant series of prohibitions from Anglo-Saxon times on¬
wards against pastimes at vigils for the dead, together with the
abundant evidence from the sixteenth century onwards, makes
us certain that throughout the Middle Ages elaborate meals and
drinkings, accompanied by boisterous behaviour, were an in¬
separable part of funeral ceremonies. The rich, as we should
expect, made much of these occasions, and rich and poor were
summoned to pay their last respects to the dead, and were
lavishly entertained during and after the ceremonies. The death
of Maurice, the fourth Lord Berkeley, on 8 June 1368, was the
signal for the reeve on his manor of Hinton to start fatting up
one hundred geese for his funeral, “and divers other Reeves of
other Manors the like, in geese, duckes, and other pultry”. 3
These were but a small part of what was provided, as may be
seen from more detailed accounts of some fifteenth-century
funeral arrangements. 4 And there, it will be noticed, the presence
of “poor men” is constantly mentioned, and we may feel sure
that the funeral of the lord of the manor, no less than the funeral
of a neighbour, was a day of mixed sorrowing and feasting for
the medieval peasant. Sidney’s famous phrase “Hornpipes and
funerals” is but another way of indicating the frame of mind
which was capable of turning “ the house of mourning and prayer
into a house of laughter and excess”.

Mention of the “bride ales” and “wake ales” recalls one of
the most popular forms of medieval festivity. Scot ale, church
ale, play ale, lamb ale, Whitsun ale, hock ale, and the like: we

1 Wilkins, op. cit . u, 707.

2 Ibid . I, 600, 625, 675; cf. m, 61, 68.

3 Lives of Berkeleys , I, 378.

4 See my The Pastons and their England, 197-9. Cf. the arrangements for
a clerk’s funeral, Arch. Journ. xvni, 72.

266

MERRIE ENGLAND

are constantly meeting with such terms in medieval documents. 1
Each of these ales was the excuse for much heavy drinking, to¬
gether with dance and games. They were frowned upon by the
Church (as we have seen in speaking of the “bride ales” and
“wake ales”) atidwith good reason, for they undoubtedly en¬
couraged licence. Yet, all the efforts of the Church could not
suppress them, and little by little we find the Church forced to
recognise the church ales in an endeavour to exercise some
control over their more extravagant phases. 2

But even though the church ales gradually came under eccle¬
siastical control, many other ales remained. The main function
of many of these was undoubtedly to provide money for the lord
or his bailiff or the forester who held them, and in consequence
they were not always welcomed by those who were invited. They
were, in fact, a kind of bazaar, which all had to attend and at which
allhadto buy. The Glastonbury tenants,forexample, were forced
to appear thrice a year at ales held by their lord: the married and
young men on Saturday after dinner and to drink “as at
Cunninghale”, and to have three draughts {ter adpotandum). On
the Sunday and Monday each husband and wife were bound to
bring id. y the young men on Sunday their |<i., but on Monday
they might drink without fee (libere), if not found sitting above
the settle (scamnum), but if found above that boundary to pay as
the others. The plena scotalla lasted three days, and the peasant
was summoned to attend three such ales: one before Michaelmas
to which he went with his wife and gave 3 d. y and two after
Michaelmas, at which he gave z\d . 3 Many other entries tell us
of oppressive sums being exacted at the ales, 4 and of some officials
using their power to force men to attend. 5

The village ale-house must have its place in any account of
village life. It is true that many families brewed their own ale,
but there was room for some houses (perhaps a little larger than
most villagers’ cots) where “bride ales”, or convivial meetings

1 For much information, see Statutes of the Realm , I, 120, 234, 321; Oust.
Rents, 150-4 and further references given there.

2 The subject of church ales may be studied in Arch. Joum . XL, 1 ff.;
Coulton, Medieval Studies , 153, 161, and Wilkins, 1, 474, 530, 574, 600, 624,
642, 672, etc.

8 Glas . Rentalia , 103, 143.

4 Select Pleas of Forest, Selden Soc, xm, 126; Oust . Rents , 150.

* D.S.P. cvii.

“THE DEVIL’S CHAPEL”

367

could be held. We have only to turn the pages of the preachers
and didactic writers to see what an evil reputation they had.
“The devil’s chapel” was well known to the medieval moralist,
and Dr Owst in his learned Literature and Pulpit in Medieval
England devotes several pages 1 to the outbursts of Bromyard,
Rypon and other English preachers, who season their discourses
with “details of the scene, such as the rude pot-house songs,
snatches of lewd conversation from the bench of cronies, the
low tricks played amongst this fellowship of Satan”. 2 Apart
from this (and indeed before Dr Owst’s untiring researches
brought such a wealth of confirmatory material together) such
writers as Langland and Skelton had given us vivid pictures of
the medieval tavern and its intimates. There are few passages in
all medieval literature which present a more graphic re-creation
of the medieval scene than that recounting Glutton’s adventures
in the tavern which welcomes him on his way to church:

But Breton the brewster bad him good morrow,

And asked him with that whither he was going:

“To holy church”, said he, “to hear the service,

And so I will be shriven and sin no longer.”

“I have good ale, gossip: Glutton, will you try it?”

“What have you?” he asked—“any hot spices?”

“I have pepper and peonies”, she said, “and a pound of garlic,
And a farthing worth of fennel seed for fasting seasons.”

Then Gluttony goes in with a great crowd after,

and so the debauch begins, and continues with wagers and good
cheer.

Then there was laughing and lowering and “let the cup go it”,
And sitting till evensong and singing catches,

Till Glutton had gulped a gallon and a gill.

He could neither step nor stand till a staff held him ,

And then began to go like a gleeman’s bitch,

Sometimes aside and sometimes backwards,

Like one who lays lures to lime wild-fowl.

And he drew to the door all dimmed before him,

He stumbled on the threshold and was thrown forwards. 3

1 Op. cit. 425 ff. and see Index, Taverns .

2 Ibid. 438.

8 Piers Plowman, v, 422ff., as modernised in the excellent version of
H. W. Wells, 1935.

268

MERRIE ENGLAND

Literature tells us of many of these tavern-haunters: Glutton,
or the good wife and her gossips who frequent the tavern since
“Whatsoever many man thynk, we com for nowght but for good
drynk”; or that other roisterer who sang so lustily:

Back and side, go bare, go bare,

Both hand and foot go cold,

But belly, God send thee good ale enough,

Whether it be new or old I 1

Documents, on the other hand, do not help us so much. After
all, the ale-house was outside the manorial scheme (save for a
tax on ale brewed and a general supervision of its quality), and
unless strife and bloodshed arose there, the lord cared little how
his men spent their time lounging on the tavern-bench, and
drinking and merrymaking “till the stars *gan to appear”. 2

We must not exaggerate the number of such ales and drinking
bouts, and we must also take account of the convivial
meetings which marked various stages of the agricultural year.
The Abbot of Ramsey, for example, on the day that the men on
various of his manors completed the mowing of “the Haycroft”,
gave them 8 d. or izd. from his purse for a drinking festivity
called Scythale. 3

The conclusion of the hay-cutting seems to have been the
occasion for a widespread custom by which the lord released into
the field a sheep or ram, and it was the business of the peasants
to catch it before it could escape from them. If they were
successful in this it formed a major part in the feast they held to
celebrate the end of their labours, and evidently the whole affair
was an enjoyable bit of rough hurly-burly, once the last load of
hay had been taken from the field. 4 Again, on St John’s Eve,
we hear of a ram being given to the villagers for their feast, as at
East Monkton, where a procession round the corn was made, the
men carrying brands of fire in their hands. 6 Agricultural opera-

1 Chambers and Sidgwick, Early English Lyrics , 229; cf. 222—8.

8 Cust. Rents, 37; Wynslowe Rolls, passim ; Hales Rolls, passim. See Selden
Soc. 1, 27, for false measure; Wakefield Rolls , 11, 3, 4, 6, 45, etc. for weak
beer; Hales Rolls , xxxiv, 128, 149, 372 for ale-tasters.

* Ramsey Cart. 1, 49, 286, 301, 311; 11, 18, 45; in, 61; Wore. Priory Reg .
145, 34a, 43 a, 65 b.

4 Ramsey Cart. 1, 298, 307, 476; Glouc. Cart, m, 64.

5 Law Mag. N.S. xiv, 350, and other references given there; Paroch .
Antiq. 11, 137; Inquis. Post Mortem, Ed. I, vol. II, 313; Cust. Rents , 56.

THE CHASE

269

tions, as was natural from their importance, gave rise to a variety
of similar festivals (Plough Monday, Hock Day, Midsummer
Eve, Martinmas), culminating in the elaborate celebrations at the
end of the corn harvest—virtually the end of the agricultural year.

The ale-house, again, was frequently attacked because it was
there that folk indulged in dancing, and although we do not hear
much in England concerning that most common of medieval
amusements, yet from the frequency and violence with which it
was attacked by the medieval moralists we may realise something
of its prevalence. 1 It kept men and women from church and was
said to be provocative of sin. Bromyard, the great Dominican
preacher of Chaucer’s day, constantly rebukes those who go to
dances, especially women, decked in their bewitching finery, who
entice men from their prayers. 2 His is but one voice among
many of those who decry the dance. Yet “dance, and Proven9al
song, and sun-burnt mirth” had a way of breaking in, and who
will wish to deny the medieval peasant those hours of pleasure on
village green or even at the tavern, despite the undoubted fact
that “unclene kyssynges, clippynges and other unhonest
handelynges” were often part of the proceedings?

Not unnaturally, however, the open countryside all about him
provided the peasant with some of his happiest hours, when,
despite all rules and penalties, he hunted and snared in his lord’s
woods and preserves. Poaching, we have seen, was one of the
most common of medieval offences, and was indulged in by all
the villagers from the parson downwards. Laws were enacted
against the keeping of hunting dogs or implements; and, in the
areas of the royal forests, savage penalties were inflicted on those
found within the precincts. But all in vain: the temptation was too
great, and whether it was a royal stag, or only a miserable coney,
the excitement of the chase, and at times it must be admitted
sheer poverty, drove men to break the law, and to run the risks
consequent upon being caught red-handed.

1 The whole subject of the medieval dance has been treated at great length
by Dr Coulton in his Med. Village, 255, 275, 425, 558, and Five Centuries of
Religion, 1, Appendix, 23, and references are given there to other writings.
See also G. R. Owst, Holbom Review (1926), 32, and Literature and Pulpit ,
passim.

2 S.v. Bellum . See Literature and Pulpit, 393-5, to which I owe the
reference.

MERRIE ENGLAND

270

A glance at a set of precedents for use in a manorial court shows
us that cases of poaching were expected to occur in the normal
course of business. In one specimen case we are told of a man
and his servant taken with two greyhounds within the lord’s
park. The defendant pleads that he had taken no beast of any
kind, and adds:

Not but that I will confess that my two greyhounds escaped from
the hand of my small boy by reason of his weakness, or that I followed
them to the park and entered thereby a breach that I found already
used, and pursued my hounds and retook them, so that no damage
was done to any manner of wild beast on that occasion. 1

Unfortunately the steward adjourned the case till the next court
“to speak of the amends”, so that we do not know what effect
this specious plea had upon him.

Or take again one of the most vivid pictures we have of rustic
life which is contained in another specimen plea from the same
manuscript. It reads:

Sir, for God’s sake do not take it ill of me if I tell thee the truth,
how I went the other evening along the bank of this pond and looked
at the fish which were playing in the water, so beautiful and so bright,
and for the great desire I had for a tench I laid me down on the bank
and just with my hands quite simply, and without any other device,
I caught that tench and carried it off; and now I will tell thee the
cause of my covetousness and my desire. My dear wife had lain abed
a right full month, as my neighbours who are here know, and she
could never eat or drink anything to her liking, and for the great
desire she had to eat a tench I went to the bank of the pond to take
just one tench; and that never other fish from the pond did I take. 2

One last glimpse of this side of the peasant’s life comes from
the fourteenth-century poem The Parlement of the Thre Ages?
with its magnificent account of a night in the woods. It is diffi¬
cult to believe that the writer of this poem was not speaking with
an intimate knowledge of what had happened in many an
English woodland of his time:

1 Selden Soc. iv, 53; cf. 34, “Of chasing or taking beasts in the Lord’s
park”.

2 Selden Soc. iv, 55; cf. other precedents, 37, 75. For actual cases, see

PP* i 24 > 128,131; cf. Durham HalmoteRolls, 91,131,144,178. Davenport,

op. tit. 75.

* Edited by Sir I. Gollancz, 1915.

A NIGHT IN THE WOODS

271

In the monethe of Maye when mirthes bene fele,

And the sesone of somere when softe bene the wedres,

Als I went to the wodde my werdes to dreghe,

In-to pe schawes my-selfe a schotte me to gete
5 At ane hert or ane hynde, happen as it myghte:

And as Dryghtyn the day droue from pe heuen,

Als I habade one a banke be a bryme syde,

There the gryse was grene growen with floures—

The primrose, the pervynke, and piliole pe riche—

10 The dewe appon dayses donkede full faire,

Burgons & blossoms & braunches full swete,

And the mery mystes full myldely gane falle:

The cukkowe, the cowschote, kene were pay bothen.

And the throstills full throly threpen in the bankes,

15 And iche foule in that frythe faynere pan oper
That the derke was done & the daye lightenede:

Hertys and hyndes one hillys pay gouen,

The foxe and the filmarte pay flede to pe erthe,

The hare hurkles by hawes, & harde thedir dryves,

20 And ferkes faste to hir fourme & fatills hir to sitt.

Als I stode in that stede one stalkynge I thoghte;

Bothe my body and my bowe I buskede with leues;

And tumede to-wardes a tree & tariede there a while;

And als I lokede to a launde a littill me be-syde,

25 I seghe ane herte with ane hede, ane heghe for the nones;

Alle vnbumeschede was pe beme, full borely pe mydle,

1 In May, when there are many things to enjoy, and in the summer

season when airs are soft, I went to the wood to take my luck, and
5 in among the shaws to get a shot at hart or hind, as it should
happen. And, as the Lord drove the day through the heavens, I
stayed on a bank beside a brook where the grass was green and
starred with flowers—primroses, periwinkles and the rich penny-
10 royal. The dew dappled the daisies most beautifully, and also the
buds, blossoms and branches, while around me the soft mists began
to fall. Both the cuckoo and pigeon were singing loudly, and the
15 throstles in the bank-sides eagerly poured out their songs, and
every bird in the wood seemed more delighted than his neighbour
that darkness was done and the daylight returned.

Harts and hinds betake themselves to the hills; the fox and pole¬
cat seek their earths; the hare squats by the hedges, hurries and
20 hastens thither to her forme and prepares to lurk there. As I stood
in that place the idea of stalking came to me, so I covered both
body and bow with leaves, turned in behind a tree and waited there
25 awhile. And as I gazed in the glade near by me I saw a hart with
tall antlers: the main stem was unburnished and in the middle
very strong. And he was full grown and adorned with horns of

272

MERRIE ENGLAND

And he assommet and sett of vi. and of fyve,

And J?er-to borely and brode and of body grete,

And a coloppe for a kynge, cache hym who myghte.

30 Bot there sewet hym a sorwe >at seruet hym full 3erne,

That woke & warned hym when the wynde faylede,

That none so sleghe in his slepe with sleghte scholde hym dere
And went the wayes hym by-fore when any wothe tyde. *
My lyame than full lightly lete I doun falle,

35 And to the bole of a birche my berselett I cowchide;

I waitted wisely the wynde by waggynge of leues,

Stalkede full stilly no stikkes to breke,

And crepite to a crabtre and couerede me ther-undere:

Then I bende vp my bowe and bownede me to schote,

40 Tighte vp my tylere and taysede at the hert:

Bot the sowre ]?at hym sewet sett vp the nese,

And wayttede wittyly abowte & wyndide full 3eme.

Then I moste stonde als I stode, and stirre no fote ferrere,

For had I myntid or mouede or made any synys,

45 Alle my layke hade bene loste >at I hade longe wayttede.

Bot gnattes gretely me greuede and gnewen myn eghne;

And he stotayde and stelkett and starede full brode,

Bot at the laste he loutted doun & laughte till his mete
And I hallede to the hokes and the herte smote,

50 And happenyd that I hitt hym be-hynde )>e lefte scholdire

six and five tines, and was large, broad and big of body: whoever
30 might catch him, he was a dish for a king. But there followed him a
fourth-year buck that most eagerly attended him, and aroused and
warned him when the wind failed, so that no one should be sly
enough to harm him in his sleep by stealth. He went in front of
him when any danger was to be feared.

I let the leash fall to the ground quietly, and settled down my
35 hound by the bole of a birch tree, and took careful note of the
wind from the fluttering of the leaves. I stalked on very quietly so
as to break no twigs, and crept to a crab-apple tree and hid under¬
neath it.

40 Then I wound up my bow and prepared to shoot, drew up the
tiller and aimed at the hart, but the buck who attended the hart
lifted up his nose, looked cautiously around, and eagerly snuffed
about. Then, perforce, I had to stand without moving, and to stir
no foot, although gnats grievously troubled me and bit my eyes,
45 for if I had tried to move, or made any sign, all my sport, that I
had so long awaited, would have been lost. The hart paused, went
on cautiously, staring here and there, but at last he bent down and
began on his feed. Then I hauled to the hook (i.e. the trigger of the
50 cross-bow) and smote the hart. It so happened that I hit him

“DEAD AS A DOOR-NAIL”!

273

Pat pe blode braste owte appon bothe the sydes:

And he balkede and brayed and bruschede thrugh pe greues,
And alle had hurlede one ane hepe pat in the holte longede;
And sone the sowre pat hym sewet resorte to his feris,

55 And ]?ay, for frayede of his fare, to pe fellys pay hyen;

And I hyede to my hounde and hent hym vp sone,

And louset my lyame and let hym vmbycaste;

The breris and the brakans were blody by-ronnen;

And he assentis to pat sewte and seches hym aftire,

60 There he was crepyde in-to a krage and crouschede to pe erthe;
Dede as a dore-nayle doun was he fallen.

behind the left shoulder and the blood streamed out on both sides.
He stopped: brayed and then brushed through the thickets, as if
everything in the wood had crashed down at the same moment.
55 Soon the attending buck went off to his mates, but they were
terrified by his manner, and took to the fells. I went to my hound,
and quickly grasped him and untied his leash, and let him cast
about. The briars and the bracken were smeared with blood, and
the hound picked up the scent and pursued the hart to where he
60 was, for he had crept into a cave, and, crouched to the earth, had
fallen down—dead as a door-nail.

So from time to time throughout the year the peasant had a
few hours of pleasure making: the great ecclesiastical celebra¬
tions at Easter, Whitsun and Corpus Christi, or the summer
festivals of May Day and Midsummer may serve to remind us of
such opportunities, and the records show how eagerly they were
seized. Robert Manning of Brunne, in his Handlyng Synne>
1303, declaims against the prevalence of these popular amuse¬
ments which took people from Holy Church:

Karolles, wrastlynges, or somour games,

Who so ever hauntej? any swyche shames
Yn cherche, oper yn cherche3erde,

Of sacrylage he may be a ferde;

Or entyrludes, or syngynge,

Or tabure bete, or oper pypynge,

Alle swyche pyng forboden es,

Whyle pe prest stondej? at messe. 1

1 Op. at. 11 . 8989 ff. Cf. Owst, Literature and Pulpit , 362, quoting MS.
Harl. 45, fol. 58, where the common people are accused of enjoying “ ydel
pleyes and japes, carolinges, makynge of fool contynaunces, to geve gifts to
iogelours.. .for to her ydel tales and japes, smytyng, snarlynge, ffyndyng
and usynge of novelryes... in wrastlynge, in other deedes of strength
doynge”.

BL

l8

Z74 MERRIE ENGLAND

As we look back, however, across the centuries, we do not feel
so censorious, and like to think of these peasants at the end of the
day carolling their dissonant but joyous snatches on the ale¬
house bench; or watching stout carls like Chaucer’s miller
winning his ram or wrestling successfully against all comers;
or following with rapt admiration Nicholas, that merry clerk, as
he acted his part so well in the village pageant. These and like
pleasures gave but few enough happy moments in lives which
otherwise were so bare.

The Road to Freedom

CHAPTER XI

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

I T is a commonplace of historians that the greater half of the
people of England were unfree during the three centuries
before the Peasants’ Revolt of 1381. Yet any picture of
medieval England would be false which failed to take account of
the constant efforts to obtain freedom which were being made
throughout this period. Everywhere men were at work seeking
to break the bonds which tied them to the land, although unfortu¬
nately the evidence of their efforts is curiously thin and sporadic.
Even in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries it is difficult to
produce a catena of unimpeachable documents to support what
we know to have happened: that the year 1350 saw England with
more than half its population serfs, while the year 1600 saw
England without a single serf left in the realm. We can see
several large-scale causes for this—the scarcity of labour after
1349; the new system of stock and land leases: the compelling
attraction of the towns: the growing belief that money rents were
more advantageous to the lord than the ancient feudal services—
but the documentary evidence surviving and available so far is
comparatively small. And in the earlier centuries it is even
smaller, but it is sufficient to encourage us to examine this weak
spot in the great structure of the manorial system. What were
the possibilities before a determined man of the thirteenth or
fourteenth century who wished to free himself of the ties holding
him to the soil where he was bom? Before we discuss this we
must emphasise the one tremendous fact which must ever have
been in the mind of the would-be runaway, and must have kept
thousands on the manors. To leave “the villein nest” meant
adventuring into the unknown without more than he could carry
on his back.

For the majority of them livelihood and training were in¬
extricably linked up with their fields, their flocks, and the little
cot and close about it which they called home. None of these
could they take with them: asinglemanmightthinkthe riskworth

278 THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

while—the married man was forced to hesitate, and often to
draw back. So that the possibilities of freedom limit themselves
as soon as the serf begins to think out their consequences. But
besides absolute freedom there were states of comparative free¬
dom which also held their attractions, and some of these were
more easily within his reach. At the moment we may compre¬
hensively group together all the various alleviations of his con¬
dition that the serf might obtain—commutation of works and
personal services for money rents, freedom from the payments
of such servile dues as tallage and merchet, and so on—and say
that the serf moved a step towards a freer condition by getting
quit of these, although he still remained a serf. To become a free
man was more difficult: the safe and straightforward way was to
win a manumission from his servile state from his lord. Then
(more adventurous) was the temptation to run to the nearest
town, hoping to win shelter within its walls; and, if fortune were
kind, complete freedom would follow in due course. Lasdy,
there was the bold, hazardous, adventure of flight without definite
objective, and with o nly a hope of better things to sustain him. In
all these various ways the serf was attempting to gain his free¬
dom. It will be our object in the following pages to see how this
all worked out in practice; and, more difficult, to see how it
all appeared to the serf.

We have already seen that by the thirteenth century a great
many lords felt it necessary to have prepared elaborate extents or
surveys of their lands and of their tenants, and from then on¬
wards such documents give us invaluable evidence of the rela¬
tion between lord and tenant. And among other things they
allow us to watch the first efforts on the part of the unfree to
shake off their servile obligations—be they of recent creation or
of long standing—obligations which were now part of their daily
being. Naturally, among the earliest ways of alleviating matters,
men conceived the idea of flight. What this involved will be
considered later.

At the moment all that is necessary is to make clear the mani¬
fold temptations which the serf saw attracting him in the haze of
distance. We are not now concerned with what actually awaited
him in the world, so much as with trying to ascertain how he was
lured away to it. To a proportion of the workers on the manor

THE DESIRE FOR FREEDOM 279

any change seemed good; and it is natural enough that some were
for drastic and others for mild methods of relief. But, as I have
said, to leave the manor altogether without the lord’s leave was
too drastic for the majority, since it involved leaving wellnigh
everything. Yet, in spite of this risk, every manor in England
knew of so and so who had gone and was now living a free man
in the nearby town, or farming his own acres as a free man in
some distant manor. Every manor could recall how such and
such ran away to marry outside the manor and refused every
order from the Manor Court demanding his return. Every manor
knew how difficult it was to lay hands on one of their number once
he had got a few miles away. All these things must have been
constantly brought forcibly to the notice of manorial lords, and
the majority of them bowed to the necessity of coming to terms
with their natives. 1 Ajid, as the serf gathered more and more
control over his own affairs, so the movement gathered momen¬
tum, and the fifteenth century saw its rapid consummation. Two
points in particular may be stressed as having contributed most
strongly to the desire for emancipation: the dislike of fixed
services and works to be rendered to the lord, and a hatred of
exactions such as tallage or the fine on marriage—in short a
hatred of all charges which were characteristic of serfdom.

The dislike of fixed works and services is easily understand¬
able: as we have seen on many manors they were a heavy burden,
and often made vexatious and inconvenient demands on the serfs
at moments when their own crops most needed their attention.
At the same time it was often the lord who wished to make a
change: “customary servants neglect their work, and it is neces¬
sary to guard against their fraud”, says Walter of Henley. 2 Many
lords saw that the forced work system was injurious to hus¬
bandry in the long run, and that they could do better with hired
labour than with forced. The serfs naturally tried to buy off their
more vexatious services, and relief from week-work with its
ploughings, carryings and sowings was bargained for; and, on
many manors, there came a day when all the various kinds of
work were valued in money. This was advantageous to both
parties: the lord knew what the works were worth and could take
cash when it suited his purpose, while the serf knew the penalty
1 For all this see below p. 291. 2 Op. tit. 11.

2 8 o the road to freedom

for each work left undone. In general it was the week-works
which were most easily commuted, since they went on through¬
out the year and the lord could plan to hire labour to cover any
defaults. Harvest-works—the boon-works—were not so easily
redeemed, as it was so very advantageous to the lord to have his
labour on the spot, and available at any moment that should
seem propitious for gathering his crops.

But we must beware of introducing system and uniformity
where neither in fact ever existed. The question of commutation
has been discussed by scholars at some length during the past
half century, and there is still much dispute and much to be done
before any valuable generalisations can be made. 1 Nevertheless,
all investigators are agreed that commutation was a very un¬
certain thing: it depended on a mass of conditions to which we
have lost the key: it varied from manor to manor; it changed
from year to year. On some manors its progress was steady, on
others it was irregular. Miss Levett has pointed out that William
of Wykeham’s need of ready money with which to maintain New
College had a far greater effect on commutation in his manors
than had “that traditional parent of all economic development,
the Black Death” ; 2 and we may suspect that the progress of com¬
mutation on every manor was conditioned more by local and
personal causes than by any wide-reaching economic forces. Be
this as it may, all we are concerned with is the fact that as a result
of such causes, the serfs gradually won a measure of freedom.
True they were still bound to the soil, but that uncertainty,
which Bracton noted as characteristic of serfdom, is to some
extent lessened; and, for the greater part of their time, they could
carry on their own work unvexed by constant seigneurial demands.

1 The whole problem of commutation may be profitably studied in the
following: T. W. Page, The End of Villainage in England\ H. L. Gray, “The
Commutation of Villein Services in England before the Black Death” in
E.H.R. xxrx; A. E. Levett, The Black Death on the Estates of the See of
Winchester ; E. E. Power, The Effects of the Black Death on Rural Organisation
in England in History , ill, and E. Lipson, Economic History , cap. ill. The last
two volumes give an admirable survey of the problem and of the controversies,
which I have very rapidly sketched above. There remains much work to be
done in this field, but it is a full-time occupation for a whole band of students.
A valuable contribution has been made by E. A. Kosminsky in his “ Services
and Money Rents in the Thirteenth Century”, Econ. Hist. Rev. Vol. v, No. z,
pp. 24 ff*

* Levett, op. cit. 160.

THE CHURCH AND FREEDOM 281

Perhaps even deeper than their dislike of services was the serf’s
hatred of all those fines and charges which the lord could make,
and which were so marked an indication of servile status. The
nature and burden of such a fine as tallage has already been dis¬
cussed, 1 and besides this there were a number of other fines
which emphasised the gulf between free and serf. When the serf
wished to marry his daughter, or sell or exchange his colts or
steers, both were equally matters in which the lord interested
himself, and in which he exacted a money payment before he
would allow the peasant to do what he wished. 2 And this really
states the whole matter in a sentence: to the lord the sale or
alienation of a serf’s daughter, or the sale of a serf’s colt were
much the same thing. Both were begotten on his manor by
creatures of his, and before either could be disposed of he had a
right to be consulted. What wonder if the serf hated conditions
such as these, and tried his utmost to gain his liberty and freedom
from these degrading obligations! He realised from an early
hour that such servile dues were incompatible with any real
notion of freedom, and they became an early object of attack.
As well as this, once the peasant had succeeded in persuading his
lord to accept a money rent in lieu of services, the road to freedom
was enormously widened and the way to full emancipation.in
sight. In sight only, for the promised land was not easily won,
and the serf, desirous of emancipation, had many difficulties
before him which we must examine.

Since Church and State were in such close relation throughout
the Middle Ages we may begin by asking what attitude the
Church took to this question of serfdom and freedom. The answer
is clear: there can be no question that the Church recognised
serfdom as reasonable and necessary. St Thomas Aquinas de¬
fends servitude as economically expedient, and it was recognised
and enforced by Canon Law. 3 Indeed the Church could do little
else, for by the acquisition of property the great religious orders
had become important landowners, and a very great number of

1 See above, p. 138. 2 See above, p. 240.

8 Summa Theol. 1 a, zae, quaest. 94, art. 5. iii; Gratian, Decretum, Causa x,
Quaest. ii, c. 3, and Causa xn, Quaest. ii, c. 39. In this latter case bishops are
severely condemned for freeing serfs of the Church. The whole question of
the attitude of the Church to serfdom is discussed by Dr Coulton in his
Medieval Village , chapters xii-xiv.

282

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

serfs were contributing daily to their wealth and sustenance. To
have denied serfdom would have been wellnigh an impossibility
for them in practice, but at least we might have expected from
them some theoretical expression of a higher view. Yet, as
Pollock and Maitland write: “It is to the professed in religion
that we may look for a high theory of justice; and when we find
that it is against them that the peasants make their loudest com¬
plaints, we may be pretty sure that the religion of the time saw
nothing very wrong in the proceedings of a lord who without any
cruelty tried to get the most he could out of his villein tene¬
ments”. 1 Certainly the Church saw nothing very wrong with it,
for it was her own practice, and the manumission of any serf
represented a loss of property, and of present and future service
to the Church, and was, therefore, strictly forbidden by Canon
Law, unless there was a definite reason for the manumission. 2 It
was the hope of a definite return that doubtless allowed the
Bishop of Worcester to manumit a serf of his who had done good
service as a bailiff. In the charter of manumission the Bishop
says that he has acted thus so that the man “may with the more
spirit devote himself to her [the Church of Worcester’s] rights
and business; and that others, in hope of the like reward, may
with the more vigour and fidelity discharge the duties entrusted
to them”. 8

Naturally, from time to time both ecclesiastical and lay
lords found it to their own interests to free some serf. Then it is
that the fine-sounding phrases are rolled forth: it is pious and
meritorious to restore men to that state of natural freedom which
originally belonged to all human beings; it is an act of charity and
piety, acceptable to God and delightful to men and so on. But
these are, in general, but “common form” phrases, copied
mechanically by one scribe from another, and their effect is con¬
siderably lessened when we observe that the lord often extracts a
handsome monetary payment for the enfranchisement he confers.

1 Op. cit. 1, 378. For the Anglo-Saxon period see Vinogradoff, Growth of
the Manor, 332, where he says, “ Manumissions of this period are best ex¬
plained by the operation of economic and social considerations. Not philan¬
thropy or influence of Christianity have reduced slavery to the modest
dimensions of Domesday. }>

* See above, and cf. Cal Papal Regs . Papal Letters , 1, 505; iv, 398; v, 71 ;
Hist. MSS. Com. Bath , ii, 36.

8 Wore. Liber Albus , ed. J. M. Wilson, 223.

MANUMISSION

283

Both lay and ecclesiastical lords made the best of both worlds:
their charters were embellished with the words of God, but their
account rolls noted with exactitude the “eight marks of silver”,
or the £10 “legalis monete Anglie” which went with them. 1

But seldom do we find the lord’s motives so candidly expressed
as they are in a charter of 1355 whereby Grandisson (one of our
greatest bishops) freed one of his serfs. He writes:

Whereas thou, being now come to thy fifty years, hast no longer
any wife or offspring lawfully begotten of thy body, and art so in¬
sufficient in worldly goods that thou must needs live from thine own
labour, and knowest no art but that of a boatman, having learned none
other from thy youth upward, therefore we cannot hold it unprofitable
to us or to Our Church of Exeter to restore thee to thy natural liberty.
Wherefore, in order that thou mayest be able to labour more freely
and seek thy daily food and clothing by boatmanship, in considera¬
tion of the aforesaid facts and moved by pity, We do hereby, insofar
as pertaineth to Ourselves, manumit thee and restore to natural
liberty both thyself and all goods and chattels whatsoever, occupied
or possessed by thee in any manner, specially reserving for Ourselves
and Our successors and Our Church the patronage of thyself, and all
thine offspring if perchance thou do beget any such . 2

Without wife or children, and growing old with straining at the
oar, he was no doubt of little use to the Bishop (although it will
be noted that a “patronage ” 3 of him is reserved), but what future
had this serf, and what kind of piety was it that liberated him?

The fact that the majority of manumissions of which we have
record are accompanied by an entry of the price paid for such
freedom is one of great significance. Economic pressure in
various directions rather than humanitarian sentiments were the
dissolving agents employed. “Ah! Freedom is a noble thing!”
cried the poet Barbour (although, in passing, it may be noted that
he himself was an owner of serfs and a seller of serfs). But noble
things are not to be had merely for the asking, and so the peasant

1 A fair number of these charters have survived, but in general our in¬
formation comes from the compoti and entries in court rolls and business
documents. For the former, e.g. see Manydown, 102; Crondal , 34; Eynskam
Cart. 11, 268; V.C.H. Durham , 11, 207, etc. For entries in compoti , etc., see
Winton Pipe Roll , 28, 74; Vale Royal Ledger , 28, 29; Selden Soc. 11, 175;
Blomfield, Bicester , 145; Glouc. Cart, ill, 190; Hales Rolls , 421, etc.

2 Reg. Grand. 1159.

8 By this the Bishop probably reserved his right of a heriot, etc. See p. 143.

284 THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

found when he approached his lord. Indeed, but for the need of
money and the changing conditions in England as the centuries
wore on, the serf might long have continued to desire freedom
without more than a few of his number ever gaining it. But the
growing luxury of the aristocracy and their retainers, the Royal
exactions for personal and general purposes, the wars at home
and overseas, and the constant difficulty of all medieval landlords
in finding ready money all helped the serf. We frequently find
lords entering into agreements with their serfs which relieve
them of all their servile duties for an annual cash payment. By
this means villages won for themselves what practically amounted
to emancipation; for, although the lord sometimes reserved cer¬
tain services, as at South Biddock in 1183, where the serfs have
to find 160 men to reap in autumn and 36 carts to carry the com
to Houghton, yet otherwise they are their own masters, when
once the yearly rent is paid. 1 In the same way, the register of the
Priory of St Mary Worcester shows that by the mid-thirteenth
century the serfs on many of the manors had bought off a great
deal of their services and payments by contributing a lump sum
annually. 2 At Carthorpe in Yorkshire an inquisition of 1245
tells us that the villeins did no work but had farmed the manor
from the lord for a fixed rent. 3 Again a document of about 1270
says there are no serfs on the lands of John FitzWarin because
the heir’s father sold to them all his villein rights, 4 and so on. 5 No
doubt it was of mutual advantage to the parties to make such
arrangements as these, and we cannot but believe that these
changes encouraged men on neighbouring manors to strive for
like privileges as they observed what freedom or quasi-freedom
others had won. Occasionally it so happened that a body of serfs
would be given their freedom outright, as in the mid-thirteenth
century, when Herbert de Chaury freed fifteen men and women,
for which they paid one mark of silver and submitted to an annual
increase of fourteen pence in their rents, and promised to plough
atthree fixed seasonsfor one day, so long as they had plough teams

1 Boldon Book (Surtees Soc.), 47.

a Wore . Priory Reg. xxm and passim . Cf. Gloue. Cart . ni, 37.

8 Yorks Inquis. I, 3 ; and cf. Cal . Inquis . Misc. 1, Nos. 43, 60, 846.

1 Cal. Inquis. Misc . 1, No. 416.

5 For other examples, see Reg. T. de Cantilupe , 22; E.H.R. xv, 35; Yorks
Inquis. 1, 216; Cal . Pat . Rolls, 6 Ed. Ill, z\Econ. Docs . (Tawney), 81-2.

CONDITIONAL MANUMISSION 285

and the lord fed them. 1 Sometimes men were given their freedom
only to suit the lord's convenience, and at the price of abandoning
their holdings altogether. When the Earl of Lincoln wished to
found Revesby Abbey, in 1142, he offered all the men of the three
villages involved in his new foundation either fresh land in ex¬
change for their holdings, or leave to “go and dwell where they
will”. Six accepted land (and the charter sets out their holdings
and services), but 31 left the Earl's lands to seek new habitations. 2
Again, when Henry II was founding the Carthusian Priory of
Witham in Somersetshire, he cleared the villeins off the land, but
gave each of them the choice of freedom or a tenement on any
royal manor that he might choose. 3

Generally, however, freedom came by direct action on the
part of the serf himself. Bit by bit, we may imagine him saving
enough to offer to his lord as a fair sum for his charter of manu¬
mission. Medieval records, as noted above, are full of such
entries, and we need not be surprised to find that the sums paid
to the lord vary very considerably. All that is recorded is the
sum paid: the willingness or unwillingness of the lord or the
reasons for the release are seldom apparent; and, as we have seen,
even if reasons are given, they are not always to be taken at their
face value.

Even when the lord consented to free a man he was not always
willing to give away all his rights. The Prior of Bath manumits a
serf, but only on condition that he serves the priory all his life
in his office of plumber and glazier; 4 the Chapter of Canterbury
confirm a manumission by the Archbishop of a bondman and
his sons, with the reservation that his youngest son is to remain a
serf and stay on the manor with the family fixtures and live¬
stock. 5 The Bishop of Winchester grants a charter to J. de
Wamblesworth and his children, but does not include John's
tenants, nor does he excuse John and his heirs from certain
duties such as suit of court, and payment of pannage and heriots
on their death. 6 And so the list might be continued endlessly;

1 Bed. Hist. Rec. Soc. 11, 239-40.

2 Northants. Record Soc. 1930, 4; and cf. Monasticon Anglicanum, ed.
Caley and Ellis, v, 454; and see for KIrkstall, v, 530.

8 Hugh, St (R.S.), 68.

4 Hist. MSS. Com. Bath, II, 164.

6 Lit . Cant, u, 411.

• Reg. Pontissara, 274#

286 THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

everywhere we find the lord only willing to allow just so much
as suits his purpose. The serf’s aspirations mean little or nothing
to him.

While all this was going on the lawyers were far from certain
about their law. Glanvill (c. 1187) lays down his view in some
detail. 1 He says that a serf is unable to buy his freedom, sV e
he has nothing but what belongs eventually to his lord. “Hence,
if the latter liberates him in consideration of a sum of money
then a difficulty arises; this is met by the intermediation of a third
person who purchases the serf nominally with his own, though
really with the serf’s money ”. 2 Glanvill seems to imagine that
a lord can manumit his serf so as to make him free as regards
himself, while he remains still a serf as regards all other men.
The whole conception is puzzling, and neither Vinogradoff nor
Pollock and Maitland have been able to clear up the involved
law as stated by Glanvill. 3 By Bracton’s time (c. 1250), how¬
ever, things had changed, and he reports cases of serfs buying
their freedom with their own money, 4 although the older prac¬
tice was still known. The law on the subject was still fluid; and,
as Vinogradoff has pointed out, “ Everything seems in a state of
vacillation and fermentation during the thirteenth century”. 5

Besides difficulties arising from these straightforward types of
manumi ssion medieval lawyers wrangled a great deal over certain
actions which, as some held, carried with them a recognition of
free status. Of these the most important was whether by entering
into an agreement with a serf his lord confers freedom on him:
by treating him as a free man does he make him free? Vino¬
gradoff points out that “the line between covenant and enfran¬
chisement was so easily passed, and an incautious step would
have such unpleasant consequences for landlords, that they kept
as clear as possible of any deeds which might destroy their claims
as to the persons of their villeins”. 6 Nevertheless, instances can

1 Op. cit. Bk. v, 5.

* Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. 1, 447, 438 n. 1. For examples of
manumission through a third person, see Saizman, Charters Sele Priory,
No. 118; Hist. MSS. Com. Wells, 1, 6a, 138; Derby Arch. Soc. Joum. rvx,
166.

* Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. 1, 437-9; Villainage, 86-8.

* B.N.B. Nos. 31, 343.

* Op. cit. ia8.

* Op. at. 73.

CONSTRUCTIVE MANUMISSION 287

be shown where such agreements have been made; 1 and, what is
more to the point, we have instances which reveal that some
lords were aware of the risk and acted accordingly. Thus, when
the Chapter of Wells made a grant in 1247 to a villein who held
z\ acres of their demesne, they added a clause which stated that,
“nevertheless he and his heirs should not be free men by means
of the said grant but perform rents and services as before”. 2
The risks the unwary lord ran are well illustrated by the case in
Bractoris Note Book where a certain Roger de Sufford gave a
piece of land to one of his villeins, William Tailor, to hold freely
by free services, and when Roger died, his son and heir William
de Sufford confirmed the lease. The lord afterwards ejected the
tenant who brought an action against him and recovered posses¬
sion. 3 Here, it is clear that the lawyers considered the serf had
acquired the freehold by reason of the free services attached to it,
and therefore they decided that, before the law, he was a free man.

By Britton’s time (c. 1291) a great many things were taken by
the lawyers to imply constructive manumission: 4

A villain may recover his freedom several ways, as if his Lord enfeoff
him of any tenement to him and his heirs, whether he receive his
homage or not.... A bondman also becomes free if he marries his Lady,

as well as abondwoman whenher Lord marries her_When any bond-

man or bondwoman once becomes free, or is enfranchised by the free
bed of his Lord or of any other, we ordain in favour of freedom and of
matrimony that they and their issue shall for ever be held free... .A
bondman may be enfranchised by the recognisance of his Lord, as
if his Lord has acknowledged him to be free in a court of record....
Likewise by writing of his Lord as if his Lord has for himself and for
his heirs quitclaimed to the bondman and his heirs all manner of
right.. .by reason of the bondage of his blood.... So also where the
bondman can prove by record of our court that the Lord has knowingly
suffered him to be upon juries and inquests in our courts as a
freeman.

The above passage may serve as a comprehensive statement of
the law concerning such manumissions, and undoubtedly it
aided a number of men to win their freedom. But the law of the
King’s Courts was not a thing easily comprehended by the

1 Pollock and Maitland, op. cit . I, 418; Cal. Ittquis. Misc. 11, 473.

* Hist. MSS. Com . Wells, 1, 72. In 1327 another grant makes similar
reservations; 1, 216.

* B.N.B. No. 184.

4 Op. cit . I, 198-209 passim •

288

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

majority of peasants, who were only aware in the vaguest way
that, afar off in London, or may be at some distant city, the
King’s justices dealt with problems arising from the plaints of
men so insignificant as themselves.

No very explicit grounds for desiring freedom are generally
given in manumission charters, and none are necessary, for it is
obvious that all men knew what a difference there was between
the free and the servile state in innumerable ways. Most freed
men had no desire to leave their village: they remained peasants,
and continued to work on their fields, but no longer burdened
with rents and services as before. They longed to call their cots
their own, and to do what they would in their own way, and
especially no longer to hear the hated epithet “rustic” or “serf”,
hurled at them from time to time. A few exceptions to this
general rule must be noted, however, in which an external
motive encouraged a man to seek his freedom. No medieval
family was so ignorant as not to realise the power and prestige
of the Church, and few did not know at first hand that the
Church offered a safe honourable career to those who were her
servants. Even the poorest village priest was high above his
peasant parishioners in status; and, in general, on level terms
with the best of them in worldly goods. Hence the Church and
its service were constantly absorbing recruits from the villages;
and, as the centuries wore on, the call became more and more
insistent. But both Canon Law and civil law demanded that all
who would take orders should be free of any defect of birth, and
hence it was necessary for serfs who wished their sons to be¬
come clerics to gain their freedom. 1 “The villain redeems his
son from the Lord, and on each side covetousness fights and
wins when freedom is confirmed on freedom’s foe”, writes
Walter Map bitterly as he observes this going on about him,*
and finds it matter for complaint that serfs were trying to educate
their “ignoble and degenerate offspring”. But he was powerless
to stop this movement which continued to the end of the Middle
Ages. Langland, nearly two centuries later than Map, voices the
same grievance:

1 Gratian, Decretum , pars i, distinctio liv; Const, of Clarendon, § 16; and
see below.

1 De Nugis Curialmm (ed. M. R. James), 7.

THE PEASANT AND HOLY ORDERS 289

For shold no clerk be crouned bote yf he ycome were
Of franklens and freemen and of folke yweddede.

Bondmen and bastardes and beggers children,

Thuse by-longeth to labour and lordes kyn to seruen
Both god and good men as here degree asketh;

But sith bondemenne bames han be mad bisshopes,

And barnes bastardes han ben archidekenes,

And sowters and here sones for seluer han be knyghtes,

And lordene sones here labores and leid here rentes to wedde

Lyfe-holynesse and loue han ben longe hennes,

And wole, til hit be wered out or otherwise ychaunged . 1

The whole opposition to these upstarts thrusting their way into
the Church and thence into high places came to a head in the
famous petition to Richard II, asking him to forbid villeins to
send their sons to school “to learn clergee”. 1 This plea was re¬
fused, and in 1406 an enactment in Parliament secured the right
“of every man or woman, of what state or condition he be,.. .to
set their son or daughter to take learning at any school that
pleaseth them within the realm”. 2

Before this statute every serf wishing to leave the manor for
this purpose, or wishing to get leave for his son to do so had to
plead for, and usually to buy, his freedom from his lord. The
accounts and Court Rolls are full of these happenings. Thus in
1295, Walter, son of Reginald the carpenter, presented by the
manorial jury of Hemingford Abbots, Hunts, for being or¬
dained without leave, appeared before the lord, the Abbot of
Ramsey, and by special grace was licensed to attend school and
take all orders, without being reclaimed as a serf. For this he was
to recite the whole of the psalms ten times for the soul of the late
Abbot William and also to pay a fine of ten shillings. 3 When we
remember that the yearly wages of a first-class agricultural
labourer at that time (exclusive of his keep) were seldom more
than half this sum we can realise the importance the lord attached

1 Piers Plowmariy C. vi, 63-81. There was a good deal of truth in this
statement. Cutts {op. cit. 133) tells us that of Archbishops of Canterbury,
Winchelsey was probably of humble birth; Reynolds, the son of a Windsor
baker and Chichele, a shepherd boy.

2 7 Henry IV, cap. 17.

* Leach, Schools Medieval England , 206, and cf. 236.

BL

19

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

290

to this permission. On the Halesowen manor two men are dis¬
trained because their sons have gone ad scholas ckricales without
first getting leave, 1 and year by year the Court at Ingoldmells
ordered a certain Peter, son of Reginald Saffron, to be attached
because he was ordained without license of the lord. 2 In 1330
the Archbishop of Canterbury directs his bailiff to take security
for the payment of a fine from two bondmen who had caused
their sons to receive Holy Orders; and a fewyears later he warns
his Chancellor that it is Unlawful to ordain men of servile con¬
dition without the consent of their lords. 3 These instances from
a crowd of similar records will serve sufficiently to show the im¬
portance attached to this method of gaining freedom. The lawyers,
however, insisted that, in order to retain this freedom the reci¬
pient must continue to live as a cleric: if he relapsed into secular
life his serfdom revived. 4 But this was little more than an ex¬
pression of legal opinion, and must have happened extremely
rarely.

So too with knighthood. There was nothing to prevent a serf
becoming a knight according to the lawyer’s theory, however rare
it was in practice; but, should he be degraded, he at once re¬
verted to his servile state. When we remember, however, the
disdain with which the chivalric romances look down upon the
peasant, it is hard to believe that many rose from the ranks of the
serfs to become knights. It is a pleasing fancy: The Squire of
Low Degree and the romance of Guy of Warwick remind us of its
attractiveness as legend; but, even here, are we dealing with any¬
thing more degraded than impoverished gentlemen, or at very
least with free men? No doubt a generation or two made all the
difference; Sir William Paston, one of the King’s justices in the
early fifteenth century, was accused by the “unfriendly hand”

1 Hales Rolls , 193, 205. “Scholas clericales”, i.e. a grammar School, at
lowest, with its tonsure. No doubt, if there were a parish school, it was not
prohibited.

2 Ingoldmells Rolk, 34, 35, 40.

8 Lit. Cant . (R.S.), m, 389; 1, 307. Similarly we have records of arrange¬
ments being entered into by religious houses not to receive recruits without
the lord’s leave; and, if this should be done unwittingly, they agree to expel
the postulant so long as his period of probation is not yet ended. See Bed.
Hist. Rec. Soc. xm, No. 240.

4 Br acton, ff. 5,1906; Britton, 1, 200,208; Fleta , m; Pollock and Maitland,

1, 429.

THE ATTRACTION OF THE TOWNS 291

of being but one generation from servile stock; and we may well
believe that it took something like this to shake off one’s servile
origins. 1

Our enquiry, up to this point, therefore, shows us that although
medieval England saw a large part of its population of servile
condition, this state of affairs was not willingly assented to by
the serfs themselves, and unceasing attempts were made by them
to alleviate their condition. They took whatever opportunity
arose of buying themselves free from various services and obliga¬
tions; individuals and sometimes whole villages bought them¬
selves complete freedom, and in various other ways the yoke of
servitude was shaken off. These were not the only means of
obtaining freedom, however, and we must now pass on to con¬
sider how far the towns, so seemingly secure and desirable within
their walls, and dowered with privileges, acted as magnets to
untold numbers of men.

The long struggle which the serfs had to wage before they
became free men was materially influenced by the freedom
possessed by dwellers in boroughs, and we shall find it difficult
to overestimate the part played by the towns in aiding the steady
emancipation of the peasants. From the earliest times we find
the burghers setting an example. Living as they did, with their
houses oftentimes clustered round some episcopal palace, or
lying in the shadow of the fortress of their feudal lord, they had
ample opportunity of realising the ever-present burdens these
great ones imposed on them; for we find them subject to services,
to tallages, or to heriots, as were their brothers of the fields. But,
unlike their brothers, they realised at an earlier stage that these
conditions were not inevitable, and that means could be found
of overcoming seigneurial exploitation. As towns became more
and more attractive, by reason of their natural and other
advantages, so they drew within their walls some of the richest,

1 Luchaire (Social France at the time of Philip Augustus ), 271, says: “ In the
chansons de geste villeins who had succeeded in emerging from their status,
entering the military class and reaching knighthood are sometimes mentioned;
but in such a case, the poet never fails to put strong protests in the mouths of
his noble characters. It is true that in real life this transformation did occur,
especially in southern France, where the gulf between the classes was
narrower; but, on the whole, the occurrence was rare." See also p. 346, where
an account is given from Garin le Lorrain of the knighting of a serf, but it is
made ridiculous.

IQ-2

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

292

most intelligent and most enterprising men of the nation. At the
same time, these men came into contact with traders and others
from foreign countries, and so gleaned from them new and dis¬
turbing ideas of the steps taken by men of such towns as Rouen,
or of Laon, to win free from the control of feudal lords. Gradually
arose the imperious need to be masters in their own town, and
they agitated for their freedom.

But, as we have seen, freedom was not gained merely for the
asking. A multiplicity of reasons actuated the holders of the
franchises; but, generally speaking, no liberty was won except
at the expense of much effort and much gold. Nevertheless, we
must remember that some lords realised it would be to their own
advantage to establish a free borough, well knowing that the de¬
velopment of such a borough with its accruing profits from fairs,
markets, tolls, etc., would more than compensate them for the
loss of the services of their sometime serfs. At times a lord would
find that the granting of a charter of burgess rights was the most
fruitful method of restoring a dwindling revenue, or a dwindling
population, as William FitzAlan found about 1190, when he
granted a charter undertaking to protect his burgesses of
Oswestry who took messuages from his bailiff ‘* ad emendationem
mercati mei ”. 1 Everywhere suchlocal conditions had their effect;
yet, it is true that, in the majority of cases, the towns bought their
franchises from impoverished and needy overlords.

The process was gradual, going on step by step, faster here, and
more slowly there, according as circumstances favoured the towns,
and the chances of buying their own freedom occurred; the needs of
the nobles who were setting out for the East gave the opportunity of
bargaining for grants of privilege; and similarly the towns were able
to secure many immunities from royal interference at times when
Richard I started for the Holy Land, and when it was necessary to
raise money for his ransom. 2

Even when necessity or expediency dictated the abdication of
some of his powers, the lord did not part with his franchises at a
blow. Only bit by bit, in many cases, could the burgesses win
completely free. We may see this struggle for freedom taking
place all over the country. It was long, for example, before either
Sheffield or Manchester gained complete freedom; the men of

1 EJI.R. xv, 532. * Cunningham, op. cit. 211, 212.

TOWNS PARTIALLY FREE 293

Wells were continuously at variance with their overlord; while
in countless cases the lord reserved certain rights over his men.
At Morpeth, in Northumberland, Roger de Merlai gave to his
free burgesses “all liberties and all free customs to be held and
had to them and their heirs of me and my heirs for ever,
honourably and freely and completely, as the charter of my Lord
the King defines”. 1 Nevertheless, from subsequent agreements
made with his heirs, we find that the men of Morpeth lacked
many of the essentials of complete freedom although they were
paying £10 yearly in rent for their franchises. For years after
this charter the lord held a common bakehouse, a mill at which
the burgesses were forced to grind the corn grown on the lord’s
lands, and a stall where meat and fish were sold till noon to the
exclusion of their rights. Besides this, the lord received a fine for
every gallon of ale they brewed, and another for every one of their
cattle straying in the fields. 2

Such incidents of servage still remained in many other boroughs:
we find the burgesses must ride with the lord when summoned
for an expedition; they must give tallage when required; they are
forced to render the old-time ploughings or reapings, or to do suit
of mill and oven. But even so, the situation of the burgesses
is most favourable compared with that of the villagers, for
their charter gives them great privileges—they are no longer
at the will of the lord and their services and payments are fixed
and regulated. Mr Ballard thus sums up the advantages of the
burghers’ situation:

In the first place, their burgage tenure enabled the burgesses to
dispose of their houses in the borough almost as easily as their chattels,
and freed them from death duties in the shapes of heriots and reliefs.
Then, by having a court of their own.. .they were tried by their
fellow townsmen. Then, there was often some limitation of the amount
of fines that could be levied in the borough court, for instance, in the
boroughs that received the law of Breteuil, whereas there was no such
[definitely legal] limitation on the fines imposed by the manorial
court. In many cases the burgesses were free of toll, not only in the
market of the borough, but also throughout the possessions of their
lord. 3

1 Hodgson, Hist. Northumberland , u, 2, 480-8.

2 Ballard, op. cit. 1, 89, 91, 94, 96; 11, 114-15, Ii6ff., 121, 122ff.

8 Op. cit. I, xciv.

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

294

The possession of these advantages by the towns must con¬
stantly be borne in mind when we are considering the various
agencies which slowly brought about the emancipation of the
English countryside. Every one of these towns, with its charters
and privileges, was a constant challenge: to the serf, they
reminded him of the difference between his manorial tenure and
that of his more fortunate brother of the borough; to the lord,
they were an ever-present threat to his autocracy. Therefore, in
order to retain his peasants on the manor, he was often obliged to
allow their conditions to approximate to those of the nearby
borough.

But when we have discussed the long struggle waged by most
boroughs for their freedom, and their attraction to the serfs, as
places of refuge, once they had gained this freedom, we are only
at the outset of our task. It is obvious that this slow winning of
self-government represents, in effect, the gradual acquisition of
personal freedom for the burgesses. Men who owe merchet, and
are forced to render agricultural services, or to give heriots, are
clearly sprung from the unfree population of the villages. But
we may go further than this, and say that in many cases these
burgesses of the thirteenth century were the villeins of the
twelfth. Maitland has taught us that the medieval burgher was a
“ rustic”, and that the investigators of the early history of towns
“will have fields and pastures on their hands”. And so con¬
versely. If we have any doubt of this we may see the serf trans¬
formed into a freeholding burgess by a stroke of the pen. On
St Gregory’s Day, in 1251, the Earl of Derby founded his borough
of Higham Ferrers. No less than 92 men, whose names are all
recited in the charter, therefore rose in the morning as serfs, and
by evening were free men, “ so that from them and their families
{sequela), with all their lands and tenements and chattels, the
Earl and his heirs could not from henceforth have or exact any
servitude from them or from their issue ”. 1 Many of the boroughs
founded in the late twelfth and thirteenth centuries (especially

1 Ballard, op. cit. n, 47, 142; cf. Latin text in E.H.R. vn, 290, and in-
speximus of charter in Cal. Charter Rolls , 1, 372. The Rev. W. J. H. Kerr, who
has an intimate knowledge of the H.F. documents, tells me that there were 92
names in the original and that" it is obvious from the small aggregate of land
held by them that they were the very lowest type of bondmen”. By 1314
there were 101 burgages and they held in all only 30J acres.

TOWN AND VILLAGE

295

the seigneurial boroughs) have a similar history behind them, and
are therefore of great importance to our study of the methods by
which the villein won his freedom. When we read, for example,
that the Knutsford burgages were measured in selions and ridges,
do we not at once see the little borough arising from the midst
of an agricultural community? 1 and when we read that the
burgesses of Leicester were freed from their reaping services, or
their fellows of Lancaster from their ploughing and other servile
customs, it is clear enough that the village community has but
recently become the town community. 2

The serf, then, always had the chance that his lord, for one
reason or another, might enfranchise the village, and make it a
borough. But, in the nature of things, this chance was slight, and
even slighter than may appear at first sight, since a large number
of medieval boroughs only kept their municipal status for a time,
and then relapsed again into villages as conditions changed. 3 But
it is not only the actual borough itself we have to consider, for its
influence was not confined within its walls. First, as we have
seen, the presence of this highly privileged locality was both an
attraction to fugitive and restless serfs, and also an exemplar to
them of privileges to be won. And even more important was its
effect on the immediately surrounding countryside. The common
fields of the town marched side by side with those of innumerable
surrounding manors. How could the manorial peasant be pre¬
vented from grumbling when he found himself with innu¬
merable burdens, while his neighbour of the next field went free?
How often must he have yielded to the temptation to pass across
the narrow strip which would give him the safe shelter, and oft-
times the welcome, of the town? The records of our towns show
clearly enough how they were constantly receiving an influx of
“foreigners”. At Norwich, for example, from an examination
of the list of citizens at the end of the thirteenth century,

1 Ballard, op. cit . n, 52.

2 Ibid. 1, 94,95. We might also note the importance attached in the charters
to the abolition of merchet and suit of mill or oven.

8 For instance Prof. Tait tells us that “ of the 23 boroughs created in the
poor and backward county of Lancaster between 1066 and i37 2 > with
burgesses ranging in number from six up to one hundred and fifty or so, only
four retained an established borough status at the end of the Middle Ages
Proc. Brit. Acad. vol. x. So also at Halesowen, where the borough never
appears to have enjoyed any vitality. V.C.H. Wore. m, 139 ff.

296 THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

Mr W. Hudson was able to tell us that they are drawn from
more than 450 localities in Norfolk and Suffolk. 1 The other side
of the picture is made clear enough by looking over the Court
Rolls of any manor situated near to a town: again and again men
are reported as being fugitives, and dwelling in the neighbouring
town; and, although order is given that they be brought back, the
town continued to shelter them, and generally their names drop
out of the Rolls after these ineffective commands have been
made for several years. 2

From their side the burgesses frequently helped the unfree,
for once they were secure themselves, it was not long before
prosperity caused them to find their borough too small, and they
cast envious eyes on some manor whose fields were contiguous
to their own. A few examples will make this clear. In the year
1256 the men of Scarborough found themselves cramped, and
got a charter from the King allowing them “for the increase of
their borough”, to absorb the King’s own manor of Walles-
grave [Palsgrave] with all its appurtenances and 60 acres in the
fields of Scarborough”. 3 Now, although the men of Scarborough
absorbed this manor for their own ends, so far as the dwellers on
that manor were concerned they became, ipso facto , men of
Scarborough, and entitled to its privileges and rights. We find
similar things happening all over the country. The Abbot of
Burton-on-Trent founded the borough there before 1213,
granting burgess tenure to all who took burgages in the street
extending from the great bridge of Burton to the new street of
Homingclawe. By 1273 he was obliged to enfranchise another
part of the little town, and yet again, in 1286, he enlarged the
confines of the borough. 4 In similar fashion the new lands and
burgages at Berry Pomeroy were added to the town of Bridge¬
town Pomeroy by a confirmation and extension of the original
charter of 1268. 5 Lastly, let us examine the very instructive
proceedings at Newcastle-on-Tyne. Here the foundation charter
dates from the time of Henry I; but, by 1298, the town was ready
for expansion, and so it got a grant from the King of
all the lands in Pampadene [Pandon] in Byker, adjoining the said town

a ^ rc ^‘ XII > 46. 2 Hales Rolls , passim and below, 308, 309.

Cal Charter Rolls , hi, 190. 4 Hist. MSS . Com . xv, part vii, 134-5*

4 Arch. Jowrn. vii, 422 ft.

THE NEW BOROUGHS 297

of Newcastle, with all the rents and services of all the tenants there,
.. .to be held by the said burgesses and good men of Newcastle and
their heirs from the King for the same sums, which they render to the
King from the town of Newcastle, with all the appurtenances, to be
united with and included in the said town for the bettering and se¬
curing thereof. And the said burgesses shall have in Pampadene a free
borough as in Newcastle; and the said lands and tenements shall be
free burgages and held in free burgage; and they shall have in Pampa¬
dene all the liberties and customs as in Newcastle, and Newcastle and
Pampadene shall be one borough . 1

As an outward and visible sign of this unity, when the citizens
built their new wall a few years later, it made a considerable
detour in order to enclose the newly enfranchised portion. 2
Henceforth the sometime rustics could sleep safely: all danger of
their reverting to their former servile status was past.

It was not only the enfranchisement of townships and the
absorption of the neighbouring manors that offered oppor¬
tunities to the serf. For some time, especially during the reign
of Edward I, there was the constantly recurring opportunity
offered by the creation of entirely new towns. Hitherto we have
seen the serfs of a certain village transformed into burgesses by
the formation of a borough from the village; yet, important as
this was in many ways, its initial advantage was obviously
limited to those happy few who had the fortune to reside there
at that moment. With new boroughs it was different. Here a
town was deliberately created on a spot where, hitherto, nothing
but waste, or, at the most, a few wretched huts had stood. It was,
therefore, essential to bring settlers to such places, and so all
were welcomed. The King (for they are mainly royal creations)
offered land and burgage rights to every one who would come
and take up residence in the new borough. Thus, in 1286, the
King appointed two men

to lay out, with sufficient streets and lanes, and adequate sites for a
market and church, and plots for merchants and others, a new town
with a harbour in a place called Gotowre-super-mare [co. Dorset]...
which was formerly of R. de Muchgros, and contiguous to the said
place, the lands and tenements of the which said town'the King is

1 Cal. Close Rolls , II, 474.

2 R. Welford, History of Newcastle , 1, x.

298 THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

prepared to commit to merchants and others willing to take them, and
to enfeoff them thereof for building and dwelling purposes. 1

A further example is to be found in the Welsh border, where
the harassed countryside was to be repopulated, and “all who
wish to become feoffees or farmers ” are ordered to appear before
the King’s officers at Hereford or Shrewsbury, while those
wishing for the further security of the town might apply to the
Justice of Chester and his fellow, who had power “to assign
places in Rhuddlan to all who desire to receive and hold the
same from the King”. 2 So also at Chard, at Kingston-on-Hull,
and at other places, we see the opportunity offered to the ad¬
venturous; and, so far as the documents go, there is nothing to
make us believe that the serf was barred. 3

It is clear from our survey that the towns offered great
opportunities and had great advantages, but we have still to in¬
vestigate these opportunities and advantages in so far as they
concerned the serf. It was not sufficient for him merely to pass
through the town gate to win his freedom: during the first four
days of his absence from the manor the lord might pursue him,
and bring him back from wherever he found him. After that it
was another matter, for by then he was in possessions libertatis ,
and the lord would have to seek the aid of the courts to get
possession of him. 4 Therefore, the serf was not really free: his
seisin of liberty must be clearly distinguished from the full and
lawful liberty he desires, and it is here that the towns played so
great a part, for by dwelling within the walls of a chartered town
or royal demesne for a year and a day, a serf acquired a certain
freedom. But here we must go warily: it is by no means clear
that simple residence in a borough or city gave a serf the privi¬
leges which some writers have assigned to him. Pollock and
Maitland, as we should expect, put it guardedly: “The serf

1 Cal. Pat . Rolls , 14 Ed. I, m. 24, and cf. Cal. Chart. Rolls f 11, 337. For the
fate of this borough see Tait, Proc. Brit. Acad, x, 6.

2 Op. dt. 8 Ed. I, m. 21 (p. 366); cf. S6e, op. cit. p. 298, n. 2: “dansles
bastides se r£fugier un grand nombre de serfs.”

8 Indeed, the Chard document expressly states the Bishop’s offer is to
all persons. Cal. Pat. Rolls> 14 Ed. I, m. 24 (p. 216).

4 Bracton, op. dt. f. 6 b. It should be noticed, however, that Britton, op. dt.
I. 201, says that the fugitive may be pursued and brought back within a year
and a day. For an account of how his lord regained possession of his serf, see
below, p. 309,

“A YEAR AND A DAY”

299

who dwells in [the borough] for a year and a day, at all events if
he has become a burgess or a member of the merchant guild,
becomes free, or at least cannot be claimed by his Lord so long
as he remains within the borough.” 1

This guarded statement is necessary, for the actual position is
uncertain, and it may well be that for a considerable time it was
constantly changing. Not every city or borough was a chartered
town or royal demesne, and without such a status the town could
afford the serf but little protection. The widest claim is to be
found in the laws called Willelmi Articuli Retractati , where it is
stated, “If slaves {servi) have remained a year and a day without
being claimed, in our cities or in our walled boroughs or in our
castles, from that day they shall become free men and shall
remain for ever free from the yoke of slavery”. 2 These laws,
however, do not date in their present form from the time of the
Conqueror, although no doubt they are expanded from some
earlier enactments. As we now have them they appear to be
written after 1200, 3 but before that date we have much evidence
which modifies their force. Glanvill, in a well-known passage,
says that the serf who dwells in a privileged town without
challenge for a year and a day, “so that he shall have been re¬
ceived like a citizen into their common gild, he will be liberated
from serfdom by that very fact”. 4 It will be noted that it is not
mere residence, but reception in the gild that is the essence of this
case. And this insistence on something more than residence is
to be noticed in the charters which the towns were acquiring
from the twelfth century onward. Thus at Newcastle, the town
charter, which dates before 1135, insists that the serf {rusticus)
must stay his year and a day, as a burgess (sicut burgensis ); or, as
another charter at Lincoln (1157) has it, “he is free if he dwells a
year and a day and pays the customs of the city”. At Northamp¬
ton, in 1190, the custom was shown to require the would-be
citizen to be resident and at hearth and home and lot and scot
with the citizens for a year and a day, and similar laws obtained
at Dunwich and Hereford in 1215. Furthermore, a careful ex-

1 Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. I, 648.

2 A. J. Robertson, Laws of Kings of England from Edmund to Henry I,
cap. 16.

8 Liebermann, Gesetze der Angelsachsen , in, 278.

4 Glanvill, op. cit. Bk. v, cap. 5.

3oo THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

animation of the Charter Rolls shows that only very occasionally
(as at Pembroke, Nottingham and Derby) did the charter allow
simple residence as a sufficient reason. The qualifying phrases
vary, but all have the implication that the citizens are ready to
receive the outsider who has shown a willingness to accept
communal burdens, and who wishes to be part of the borough
and not a mere parasite upon it. The lawyers do not go quite as
far as this: Bracton says that freedom is acquired by dwelling
for a year and a day in any privileged town, or on the royal
demesne; and Britton and the author of Fleta at the end of the
thirteenth century say much the same. 1 But the citizens and the
lawyers are not dealing with quite the same matter, though the
two things have become hopelessly entangled in subsequent dis¬
cussion. Mere residence in the borough undoubtedly gave the
serf a seisin of liberty, so long as he remained there, and it is
this that the lawyers are concerned with. If he wished to be
more than this—a freeman not merely a free man—then it was
necessary for him to associate himself very closely with the
townsfolk.

And this was not always a simple matter. Sometimes there
would be a limiting clause in the town charter which refused any
such privileges to the serf. Thus at Plympton, in 1242, Baldwin,
Earl of Devon, in giving a charter to the borough definitely
excluded from its terms “our bom serfs, who if they happen to
remain or sojourn in the aforesaid borough, cannot claim or usurp
any liberty by reason of the aforesaid liberty granted to our
aforesaid burgesses, without our consent”. 2 Similar instances
may be seen at Weymouth in 1252, and at Bridgetown Pomeroy
in 1268. 3 Even if there were no such clause in the charter there
was a great gulf between the citizen and the serf—a gulf which
often could not be crossed, and which, in any case, required a
deal of negotiating. At London, for example, it was comparatively
easy to obtain personal freedom, for the section of the Willelmi
Articuli Retractati quoted above was there regarded as authori¬
tative and often pleaded in the courts. 4 But such freedom was

1 Bracton, 0 p . cit. f. 190 b; Britton, op. cit . I, 200, 209; Fleta , 111, 235.

Devon. Assoc, xix, 561; Ballard, op. cit. 11, 141, 143; Eyton, Shropshire ,
X, 133. Cf. Luchaire, Communes Frangaises, 58.

z Ballard, op. cit. 11, 142, 143. * Letter Books , A 170: K 90.

THE GILDS AND THE PEASANT

301

restricted: it gave no right of entry to the gilds or of protection
without the city. Freedom, indeed, was an essential condition of
membership of a gild, and the gilds were autocratic institutions,
and exercised a rigorous scrutiny over candidates for admission.
By the fourteenth century this had gone so far that villein origin
was regarded as tainting the blood. In an ordinance of 1387 it is
laid down that no “ foreigner ” should be enrolled as an appren¬
tice unless he first swore that he was a free man and not a serf,
and later on a serf is defined as the son of a man who was a serf
at the time of the boy’s birth. From this it would seem that if a
villein became free by residence in the city, his sons born after
this would be eligible for membership of a gild, but those born
earlier were of servile origin and were excluded. We may under¬
stand the reason for this decision by recalling the well-known
case of Simon de Paris, mercer, alderman and sheriff of London.
Simon had been a freeman of the City since 1288; but, in 1306,
while visiting his home at Necton in Norfolk, he was seized by
the lord’s bailiff who ordered him to serve as reeve, arrested
him on his refusal, and kept him in prison from tierce to vespers.
Simon brought an action against his lord, pleading that he was
a free citizen of London. His lord pleaded that he was a villein,
taken in his “villein nest”, and therefore liable for service.
Justice Bereford here interposed: “I have heard tell that a man
was taken in a brothel and hanged, and if he had stayed at home
no ill would have befallen him. So here. If he was a free citizen
why did he not stay in the City?” The jury, however, refused to
entertain the view of Simon’s opponent; and, no doubt, jealous
for the liberties of the City, found for him, and declared that he
was a free man, and had suffered damage by his few hours’ im¬
prisonment to the sum of ^ioo. 1 No wonder the gilds were
chary of accepting any one whose blood was not completely free,
when a few days spent without the walls might lose them the
services of apprentice or journeyman.

Much the same conditions prevailed elsewhere: at York, at
Andover, at Lynn, for example, no one of servile birth could gain
entrance to the gild—their birth was an absolute bar, 2 At

1 Y.B. 1 Ed. II (Selden Soc.), nff.

2 Hist. MSS. Report , 1, 109 a; Gross, op. cit . n, 164, 317; T. Jones, Hist.
Brecknock , n, 786.

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

302

Norwich, it was not an impossibility, but the citizens required
the serf to produce his lord’s licence before they would admit
him to their number, 1 and in the fifteenth century free condition
was made an essential for entry to the gilds. 2 An early poem,
dealing with the mason’s craft, may perhaps be taken as
summarising the general view:

The fowrthe artycul thys moste be,

That the mayster hym wel be-se
That he no bondemon prentys make,

Ny for no covetyse do hym take;

For the lord that he ys bonde to,

May fache the prentys wheresever he go. 3

To sum up: the towns, on the whole, certainly gave a consider¬
able measure of protection to the serf, so long as he exercised due
caution in leaving the town. In general, however, their bene¬
ficent activities stopped here. The advancement of the serf was
not particularly dear to the citizens’ hearts: indeed I think we
shall not be far wrong if we look at it in quite another light. To
the majority of townsmen the landless serf was like the casual
labourer is to the contractor to-day. He assumes little responsi¬
bility for him, but uses him as and when and where required,
and then turns him adrift. In the medieval town there was great
demand for casual labour; and the more highly organised the
gilds became, the more they found it beneath their dignity to
carry out the many necessary functions of day-to-day town life.
This is where the fugitive found his opportunity. We may
imagine him employed on sporadic scavenging; on digging the
foundations for buildings and doing navvy’s work on the City
walls; acting as porter and carrying heavy loads from river to
warehouse; hanging about the inns and assisting carriers and
ostlers; doing the rough work incident on the housing and feeding
of a master’s apprentices and journeymen. There was no end to
the work constantly to be done, and many serfs found they had
but exchanged the service of their manorial lord for that of a
burgher.

1 Norf. Arch . xii, 78.

* Norwich Records , ed. Hudson and Tingey, n, 291.

* J. O. Halliwell, Early History of Freemasonry, 16 (quoting from MS.
Reg. 17 A, f. 3). Knoop and Jones, The Mediaeval Mason, 107,168. Fache—
bring back.

PRIVILEGES OF TOWNS

3°3

Here we may conveniently pause to examine the results of these
changes we have been discussing. When Higham Ferrers was
made a borough, the 92 burgesses of the new borough became
free men and a self-governing commonalty. They retained all
their lands and had in them the possibilities of a livelihood, but
in addition their charter gave them their own tithings, their own
three-weekly court for small pleas and transfer of burgage tene¬
ments and a half-yearly view of frankpledge for their own men.
In short, they were completely their own masters, while around
them on all sides they saw others still subject to the manorial
lord’s courts and services. So too in the New Boroughs esta¬
blished by the King’s command: the new citizens had the full
enjoyment of all the privileges given to them by their new
charter. At Kingston-on-Hull, for example, the inhabitants of
the newly created borough were to have all the liberties per¬
taining to a free borough, with two markets a week and a yearly
fair. The burgesses had the right to make wills, to have their own
coroner, to plead in their own borough court only, to have the
return of royal writs, etc. 1 Again when the burghers of New¬
castle enlarged their borough boundaries so as to include the
former manor of Pandon, their charter explicitly stated that
“they should have in Pandon all the liberties and customs as in
Newcastle; and Newcastle and Pandon should be one borough”.

Thus far, then, it is clear that any serfs fortunate enough to be
on the spot at the birth of boroughs such as these were in an
enviable condition as compared with that of their fathers. They
were free in the eyes of the law, masters of their own property
and holdings, and able to participate in all the communal
activities of their new town. In short, their opportunities were
what they made of them, and many might have cried “ Bliss was
it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven”.
When we turn to the serf who came into an already existing
town, we see that his condition was by no means so blissful; and,
unfortunately for him, it was to the existing towns that he and his
fellows fled for the most part. True by such flight and residence
within the town they acquired a seisin of liberty, and in due
time became free men—at least in the eyes of the law. But what
freedom had they in actual fact? Had they done much more than
1 Cal,. Pat. Rolls (1299), 475; and compare pp. 216, 296, 366.

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

304

escape from one evil to others that they knew not of? Instead of
the certain dues and services to be rendered to the manorial lord
they had to face the uncertainties of the changing economic
conditions, and the whims and fancies of their new master in the
town. Their work was sporadic, seasonal, at the will of their
employer—it is difficult to see how many of the peasants found
the exchange worth while. And we must remember that the
peculiar organisation of town life did not help them. Around
them they saw the great ones of the town: the merchant gild,
which in many places had assumed control of the town-govern¬
ment, and the craft gilds, which controlled almost every worth¬
while trade in the borough. “If ordinary inhabitants were
allowed to buy and sell food or the bare necessities of life, all
profitable business was reserved as the monopoly of the full
citizen.” And, beside the full citizen, various privileged classes
may be discerned in the towns: the tenants and dependents of
bishop, or abbot, or of a lord, who lived within the liberties of the
borough and had limited trading rights; the “foreigners” who
lived without the walls, but who were allowed within it for trade
“according to the town’s discretion and convenience”. And so
on down by subtle gradations till we reach our men from the
countryside—the non-burgesses—without rights, without cham¬
pions, without traditions. Yet, though many of them must often
have longed for their fields and the comfort which comes from
“use and wont”, and often, at the end of a long arduous day spent
at wretched and unremunerative toil, must have wondered what
the end of it all was to be: even so, it was a necessary phase in the
history of emancipation. Though John-atte-Grene himself was
little better off as a free man in the town of Leicester than his
father had been as a serf of the Earl, yet a generation or two
hence saw John Green an alderman of the city and one of the
controllers of his craft. His father, like a multitude of other
fugitives in the towns, may indeed have “bought his blood” at a
heavy price, but future generations were to bless him for it.

Litde wonder then that when all other methods failed him
the peasant’s thoughts turned to the possibilities of flight. Indeed,
in some ways, the prospects in a nearby town or at a distance
often must have seemed so rosy that we must ask ourselves:
“What, then, keptthe majority of the peasant population fixed to

REASONS FOR IMMOBILITY

305

the soil?” Many things, no doubt; but one was of overwhelming,
importance: a sense of fair play and an ability to compromise.
We have seen that changing conditions were forcing men to view
things in a new light: little by little even the most grasping lords
were relinquishing some of their immemorial rights. Here and
there up and down the countryside, week-works were dying out as
the lord and his serfs found their interests marching side by side
in exchanging a service rent for one of money. Again, we have
seen the constant challenge of the towns: privileged, compara¬
tively safe, seemingly luxurious—they were throughout these
centuries a magnet which attracted a percentage of those
peasants living around them—how large a percentage we cannot
tell. But there they were; and, as we have seen, the lord with
average foresight Imew he must deal with them. Once let the
opinion gain ground that the manorial conditions were unfairly
exacting, and flight became a subject of discussion within the
village ale-house, and in the moments of rest in the fields and at
the plough. The Abbot of Burton may have won the applause of
lawyers when he told his serfs that they had nothing of their own
save their bellies ( nihil praeier ventrem), but he was a foolish
fellow nevertheless. 1 Again, the story of Bury St Edmunds shows
clearly enough what difficulties landlords created for themselves
by a resolute refusal to see how the times were changing. 2 In
general, however, lord and peasant found it mutually convenient
to compromise—the well-known phrase of the customals “and
he shall serve ad voluntatem domini et secundum consuetudinem
manerii” shows how custom had taken its place in manorial life,
and that “the will of the lord” had been softened by the passage
of time, so that it had now to be interpreted by the custom of the
manor. 3 The majority of peasants were kept on the manor by
a reluctance to leave home, and a general belief that their lot
was not unduly hard but approximated to that of their neigh¬
bours. 4

1 Wm. Salt Soc. v, 82.

2 See Jocelin of Brakelond, passim , and compare conditions at Dunstable in
1229 (Ann. Dunst. R.S. 122), or at Damall and Over in 1326 and 1336
(Vale Royal Ledger Book , 378. and 1178.).

3 See above, p. 100.

4 Compare V.C.H. Herts, iv, 186, where it says that flight was rare in the
thirteenth century, for as commutation increased there was less necessity to
bind tenants to the soil.

BL

20

3 o6 the road to freedom

Notwithstanding this, when once the serf made up his mind to
run away it was difficult to restrain him. Once the four days had
elapsed in which the lord could pursue his serf and take him
wherever he found him, henceforth he had power of arrest
only in his own manor. The serf, therefore, had only to get out¬
side the manor—which in many cases simply meant crossing a
road and walking a mile to the town—and in a few days he had
sufficient preliminary protection to keep his lord at bay. Hence¬
forward, if the lord wanted him, he must take due legal action to
get him, and in the meanwhile he might disappear again. 1

Naturally the lord did what he could to insist on the immo¬
bility of his peasantry. Every serf was a potential source of in¬
come, and was not lightly to be allowed to escape from his
obligations. Hence it is that in such comprehensive instructions
as we find the Abbot of Gloucester issuing to his officials, he
includes clauses which prohibit the practice of leaving the manor
without leave, 2 while the Prior of Worcester in his inquiry into
the state of his manors demands an account of those who have
left them and by what authority. 3 But such instructions, in the
nature of things, were more academic than practical. No doubt
the officials did their best, and the steward at the Manor Court
often explained that the whole duty of man was to stay where he
was put, yet something more than words was needed on many
occasions. It frequently happened that the lord got to know that
a man was uneasy and threatened to desert, 4 so that he was able
to take precautionary measures. In general these took the form
of requiring the suspect to produce pledges for his good be¬
haviour: John Boneffant, in 1275, was forced to find two pledges
that he would not withdraw himself from the lord’s land, and that
he would be prompt to obey the lord’s summons. 5 On some
manors sureties had to be found to answer that the man would
not remove his goods and chattels from the lord’s manor, 6 or in
others his cattle are seized into the lord’s hands in the hope of
keeping him from flight. 7 A man’s relatives are at times held

1 For all this see below, p. 309, and compare V.C.H. Sussex , 11, 178, n. 63,
x>n the difficulty of recovering a fugitive serf.

2 Glouc. Cart . in, 218, and compare 176. 8 Wore. Priory Reg . 256.

4 Page, op. cit . 8 Selden Soc. n, 22.

,fl Wakefield Rolls, 1,252,257; 11, xix; and cf. Econ. Documents (Tawney), 69.

15 Hales Rolls , 120, 121, 124, 125, 169, etc.

LEAVE OF ABSENCE

307

responsible for him, as at Cuddington in 1331 where five villeins
had fled. The Manor Court ordered their return, and added that
if they were not present at the next court their relatives were to
be distrained in all their lands and tenements. 1 Such measures
as these were everywhere in operation, but even so, migration
still went on. Very occasionally we hear of severe repressive
measures being taken, such as confinement to the stocks, or even
the use of chains to hold an unwilling serf; but, in general, if
milder measures failed and the serf absconded, the lord had to
make the best of it, or pursue his man with the aid of the courts. 2

In early times, at least, the King’s aid could be prayed, and
about 1160 the Abbot and monks of Colchester got a charter
from Henry II ordering the delivery to them of their fugitives
with all their goods ubicunque inventi fuerint upon threat of a fine
of no less than £io. 3 A similar writ in 1271 to the Prior of Tyne¬
mouth suggests that this method of regaining recalcitrant serfs
may have been used to some considerable extent, 4 the more so as
we have a charter of Earl Hugh II of Chester giving to the Abbot
of St Werburgh exactly the same rights within his lands. 5 It may
be that lords acted together in a common interest and allowed
access to their lands in order that fugitives might be arrested; 6
but, for the most part, it is clear that a writ from the courts was
necessary. It is for such a writ that the Bishop of Chichester’s
steward writes to him on more than one occasion. 7 But this was a
slow business, and as the steward well knew, involved expense,
risk and often disaster. 8

Often, therefore, the lord felt it wisest to bow to the inevitable,
and to give leave of absence where he could scarce withhold it,
and to retain some appearance of authority and control. This he
did by exacting an annual payment, which was called chevage,
from all those who wished to live outside the manor. In general
the sum exacted was quite small—a few pence or a couple of
capons at Christmas, etc., but sometimes the lord added a clause
to the effect that the villein should come when required, or that
he should attend the half-yearly Leet Courts. These permissions

1 Page, op . cit. 36 n. 1. Cf. Hales Rolls , 562, 565, 569, 577.

2 Jacob's Well (E.E.T.S.), 186; Selden Soc. 1, 2.

8 CoL Cart . 40. 4 Cal. Charter Rolls , II, 172.

6 Chester Cart . 73. # Glympton , 10, 11.

7 Sussex Arch. Soc. in, 51, 68. 8 See below, p. 309.

20-2

308 the road to freedom

to leave the manor were granted at the Manor Court, and en¬
rolled in the Court Rolls; first, in order that no question might
arise as to the legality of the serf’s absence, and secondly to
impress on his fellows that there was a right and a wrong way of
doing these things. 1

Nevertheless, despite all the efforts on the part of the manorial
authorities to check the exodus, men constantly fled from the
manor. So long as they were unnecessary to the manorial
economy, their lords may have relinquished them, more or less
reluctantly, at any rate feeling they were not worth the expense
and bother of fetching back. At the same time it was a more
serious matter when one who held land and a cot took to his
heels cum omni sequela sua . Then the manorial machinery was
put in motion against him: he was proclaimed as a fugitive in the
court and ordered to return, and any goods left behind were
sequestrated. But, despite all the steward’s admonitions to the
homage, when once a man’s name appeared as a wanderer it was
seldom removed by his return. At meeting after meeting the
court orders his return “as many times before”, his neighbours
are ordered to produce him at the next court, but the years
pass by, and he does not return, until after some ten or twelve
years hope finally dies, and these useless commands to the
peasants are allowed to lapse. 2 The ineffectiveness of these
courts, especially after the Black Death, is well shown on the
manors of the monks of Eynsham. To take one example:

At a court held on 30 April 1382, it was presented that several natvoi
had withdrawn from [the manor]; and an order is made in one case
to the father, in other cases to the homage as a whole, to see that the
culprits are brought back. Similar presentments are made at every
Court down to 1462; but from 1469 onwards the matter is not men¬
tioned. Although injunctions were always given to the next of kin, or
the homage, to bring back those who had escaped, and sometimes a
fine of 6 s. 8 d. or even 20$. was threatened, yet nothing was done either
by the lord, or the homage; the fines were not inflicted, nor were the
nativt produced. At the court held in 1437 when it was presented that

1 These licences are everywhere to be seen in Court Rolls. See e.g. Hales
Rolls , 58, 361, 485; Selden Soc. 11, 24; Tooting Bec y 239; Winton Pipe , 17;
Kettering Ccmpotus, 13; Levett, op. cit . 29, 135; V.C.H. Berks , 1, 187;
Durham Hahnote Rolls , xvn, 185, etc.

* See Econ. Documents (Tawney), 73; Hales Rolls , 116, 117, 501; Durham
Halmote Rolls, 21.

THE LAW AND THE FUGITIVE 309

John Rogers, a nativus who had not resided [on the manor] for more
than 30 years, was living at “Hongrynge Aston”, the homage was
commanded to bring him back “or to answer for his ‘chevage’
henceforth ”, but no “ chevage ” was paid in this or in any other case.
Not that there was any difficulty in finding these nativu 1 They were
living in neighbouring villages whither they had removed, probably to
obtain better land_The Abbot’s remedy would have been to pro¬

cure the King’s writ to recover his villeins, and on many occasions the
entry runs “the Lord’s Council should be consulted concerning a
writ”, but it does not appear that this step was taken. 2

Why this step was not taken will appear clearly enough when we
turn to the King’s courts, and the attitude of the law towards
the runaway villein.

“In the beginning, every man in the world was free, and the
law is so favourable to liberty that he who is once found free and
of free estate in a court of record, shall be holden free for ever,
unless it be that some later act of his own makes him villein.” 3
These words, spoken in 1309 by a great medieval lawyer,
Justice Herle, indicate clearly the difficulties besetting a lord who
craved the aid of the courts to recover his fugitive serf. He had,
as we have seen, four days for “self aid”—days during which he
need evoke no other power than his own forces. But once these
were elapsed the serf had a seisin of liberty, and his lord must
turn to the courts for aid. 4 His first step was to sue out a writ
de nativo habendo . By this writ the Sheriff of the county was
ordered to deliver the villein up to his lord—but only if he
admitted he was a villein. If he asserted he was a free man the
Sheriff could not seize him, and the lord was forced to sue forth
a pone to remove the plea before the justices of the Common
Bench, either in London or on circuit. The other course open to

1 Cf. the numerous records which state the dwelling places of absentees:
Tooting Bee Rolls > 235; Hales Rolls , 230; Ramsey Cart . m, 252, 257; Ingold -
mells Rolls , 38,104; Cal. Inquis. Misc. II, 34, 473 ; Boon. Documents (Tawney),
72 and Bans lead, 149, where a serf tells of his four sons and two daughters.
"‘John who is a carpenter, and is engaged, and his fiancee dwells at South¬
wark: the second is called John, and is a butcher, and dwells at Bletchingly;
the third is called William, and he knows not where he dwells; the fourth is
called Richard and dwells at Handon in Hedenhall and sells timber boards.
Joan is married to G. Taylor and dwells at Claydon, and the other daughter,
Emma, is married to R. Halcote and dwells in Bletchingly.” But they are all
out of the control of their lord.

a Eynsham Cart . 11, xxvi-xxvii. 8 Y.B. 3 Ed. II, 94 (Selden Soc).

* Bracton, op. cit . f. 191; Britton, op. cit. 1, 201.

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

3 10

the villein, and a most valuable protection, if he had fallen into
his lord’s hands, was to bring a writ of de homine replegiando .
Such a writ ordered the Sheriff to set free the villein from whom¬
soever had custody of him, or failing his surrender, to seize the*
person holding the villein, until he produced him. 1 Upon the
serf giving security that he would appear to answer the charge of
villeinagebrought against him, the Sheriff would free him for the
time being.

An even more powerful weapon was available to the serf in the
shape of the writ de libertate probanda . This was the writ used
by the man who feared his status was in question and was deter¬
mined to clear the matter up, once for all, in a court of record;
and it was also the writ used by the man who, rightly or wrongly,
was accused of being a serf, but who believed the lord had in¬
sufficient evidence to prove him so. 2 Such a writ stayed all
proceedings against him until the next coming of the itinerant
justices. When the case came to trial the lord was under serious
disabilities, because of the growing belief that “judgment must
be given in favour of liberty”. 3 The onus was upon him to prove
his case, and

the defendant was not called on to plead to the claim of villeinage
unless the Lord at the time of declaring on his title brought his wit¬
nesses with him into court, and they acknowledged themselves
villeins, and swore to their consanguinity with the defendant; and if
the plaintiff failed in producing such evidence, the judgment of the
court was that the defendant should be free for ever, and the plaintiff
was amerced for his false claim. 4

Further, it was imperative that the kinsfolk produced should not
be less than two in number, and also they must be males, for
women were too frail to stand as witnesses in such a matter. 5
Again, the defence was allowed to set up two or three pleas

1 Prof. W. S. Holdsworth says: “As early as the reign of Henry III the
group relating to personal freedom followed the writs connected with waste.
This group naturally attracted others to it. The replevin of a prisoner con¬
nects itself with the replevin of cattle. The writs connected with villein
status were also allied.” Op. cit. n, 434, and cf. 1, 95.

2 This writ was taken away from the serf by 25 Ed. Ill, cap. 18, but the
writ de homine replegiando remained to him. See Rot. Pari . II, 242a.

3 Bracton, op. cit. ff. 1916, 193.

4 Sommersett’s Case, fol. 20, State Trials , 43. The pleading of Hargrave

in this case is of great interest and embodies the fullest presentation of the
law and the cases on it that we have. 5 Britton, I, 207.

THE PEASANT IN THE COURTS 311

against their opponents, despite the rule forbidding duplicity in
pleading. This leaning in favour of liberty also declared that a
bastard was a filins nullius , and that therefore it could not be
presumed that he was of villein stock. 1 The law also assumed that
a stranger settling on the land was a free man, and the courts
declined to construe any uncertainty of condition against him. 2
Again, the justices were willing to allow the defence to take full
advantage of any slip in pleading or any technical error. These
and other difficulties 3 which beset the lord will become clearer if
we examine some actual cases.

It is not likely, I think, that the large majority of serfs who
appeared in the courts can be thought of as representing the
average of their class. It required both brains, courage and
money to set in motion the machinery of the medieval lawyers,
and only a few would dare attempt it. It meant the delay until
the itinerant justices should come: it meant the employment of
an attorney and the production of the necessary witnesses, etc.
Small wonder that comparatively few serfs cared to enter the
courts of law and those that did so deserved all the protection
that a tolerant judge could give them. But although the law was
favourable, it never denied the rights of the master over his serf.
When, in 1302, A. acknowledged himself to be R.’s villein.
Justice Brumpton said to R.: “Take him by the neck as your
villein, him and his issue for ever.” 4 Often it would seem that a
lord would take a recalcitrant serf into the courts so as to make
clear for ever his condition. There are numerous cases which
show that the wretched serf put up little or no fight once in the
presence of the overwhelming majesty of the judges and their
ceremonial. Again and again the records, mutatis mutandis , say
that “H. Pilcher was attached to answer W. le Waleys in a plea
ofnaifty. H. could not deny his naifty and so W. had him”. 5 Or

1 See Y.B. 5 Ed. II (Selden Soc.), 113.

2 Villainage> and 19 Ed. Ill (R.S.), no.

8 The Statute of Merton (20 Henry III) limited the time within which a
writ de nat. hab. could be brought, and henceforth it was not to exceed “the
last return of King John into England” (i.e. 1210). By 38 Henry VIII, cap.
2, the period was limited to sixty years. Also this writ could only be used by a
lord who had inherited a villein, and not by one who had an interest for a
term of years, etc. See Bracton, f. 1956. * Y.B. 30 Ed. I (R.S.), 200.

5 Chester Rolls , 73; cf. Lane . Assize Rolls , 19,40,43; North . Assize Rolls , 34,
146, 225. Wm. Salt Soc. vi, 71. Naifty=the state of being a serf.

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

3i2

again: “ A. B. sues for his serf C. D. who takes a writ of de libertate
probanda , and they come to the Assize. There, C. D. acknow¬
ledges himself the serf of A. B. Therefore it is ordered that A. B.
shall receive C. D. as his villein with all his cattle and children,
and C. D. is liberated to him in full court. At the same time
C. D. and his pledges are fined because he has not prosecuted
his writ”. 1

In these, as in many other cases, it is obvious that the serf has
no case, and is forced to acknowledge his condition. This is final:
for an acknowledgement thus made in a court of record can
always be appealed to, and once the serf has admitted his status
his hopes are for ever gone. 2 Indeed, to make doubly sure, his
lord may even insist on his repeating the scene at home in his own
manorial court, as we see happened, in 1239, when the Abbot of
Ramsey forced Gilbert Harding to acknowledge himself a
villein and subject to all servile dues levied in his manor of
Brancaster, although Gilbert had previously admitted all this at
an Assize at Norwich. 3

For men like this, who were forced to admit their status, the
law could do little, although it is worth remarking that the judges
refused to allow villeinage to be confessed “except by the party
himself in court in propria persona 99 . 41 Apart from this, however,
the law was powerless, unless the man himself put up some show
of defence. Then, at once, as we have seen, everything that could
be used in his favour was used. The lord’s word was insufficient,
and he had to produce his witnesses from the defendant’s own
kin. Hence, when a man was claimed before the justices at
Chester on a writ of de nativo habendo , he said he was not bound
to appear, because no serf of his kin was brought forward to
prove his servitude. 5 Some years later in the same court the
defendant made a similar plea. The plaintiff said that production
of kin was not necessary until it had been demanded by the other
side, but the judges were against him and the defendant was set
free. 8

'The plaintiff came into court with his witnesses and opened
his case by pleading:

1 North . Assize Rolls (iz8o), 225. 8 See Bracton, op. cit. passim .

3 Ramsey Cart. 1, 423. 4 Y.B. 7 Ed. II (Selden Soc.), 17 2, n. 1.

8 Chester Rolls , 14. ^ 6 Ibid. 44.

THE PRODUCTION OF KINSFOLK 313

John who is here declareth this to you, that Peter who is there
wrongfully fled from him, and herein wrongfully, that he is our
villein who fled from his land within the term etc., 1 and of whom he
was seized as of his villein until such a year when he fled from him,
and if he denies this, he denies it wrongfully, for the plaintiff hath
good suit and sufficient. 2
Then, says Britton,

immediately let the suit be examined, not only by taking their acknow¬
ledgements whether they are villeins to the plaintiff, but whether he
against whom the plaint is prosecuted was ever upon the land of the
plaintiff, and in what manner the plaintiff was seized of him. And if
the suit be found to disagree, in so much it is bad and defective, and
the plaint shall be lost. 2

The plaintiff may well have hesitated, for the production of
kin was a risky business. They could evidently be driven into
court, but once there, it was by no means certain what they
would say. A man produced in court to prove the unfree condi¬
tion of his brother, on being questioned says he is a free man and
no villein, and the lord’s case promptly collapses. 3 And so with
many cases: the men are not of close enough kin, or indeed turn
out not to be kinsmen at all. A plaintiff brings forward two men
whom he says are serfs of his, and kinsmen of the defendant, but
the defendant says he never had a grandfather bearing either of
their names, and h? ^oes free. 4 Again, in an interesting case in
Northumberland, in 1280, there are produced as witnesses a
man’s sister as well as two of his more distant relatives—a William
Rudd and Cristina his sister. The defendant at once takes ex¬
ception to these on the score that women ought not to be ad¬
mitted in such a suit, being of a more fragile nature than are
males, and the court decided that th 3 plaintiff was wrong to bring
such feeble witnesses, and inferred that he could find no satis¬
factory male evidence, and declared for the liberty of the
defendant. 5 Cases such as this show that a clever attorney could
often take full advantage of the many opportunities the law
offered him.

But we must not imagine that such suits were, in general,

1 The term allowable by the statute. See above, p. 311, n. 3.

2 Britton, I, 204.

3 Fitzherbert, Abridgement , Villeinage, § 39; and cf. B.NJB. No. 1812.

4 Chester Rolls, 86.

4 North. Assize Rolls , 274; and see Britton, I, 207; Villainage , 84.

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

3H

unsuccessful. It is not possible to give any precise figures, but a
general impression after looking over a great many of these cases
leads me to believe that the lord was the victor roughly three
times out of four. It is clear that many lords took great care in
getting their evidence together and were able to present a very
strong case to the court. Vinogradoff says (with perhaps some
exaggeration) that e 4 villeins born had their pedigrees as well as
the most noble among the peers. They were drawn up to prevent
any fraudulent assertion as to freedom, and to guide the lord if
he wanted to use the native’s kin in prosecution of an action de
nativo halendo ”. 1 Howuseful such a document would be, can be
seen from what has already been said, and from such a case as
that reported in 1312. 2 In this case William of Cressy claimed
William, son of Siward, as his serf. Further he produced no less
than six of his kin against him, all of whom acknowledged them¬
selves to be serfs. To meet this formidable array, the attorney of
the defendant pleaded that for various reasons they ought not to
be admitted. The case illustrates so well the intricacy and possi¬
bilities of a medieval action of this kind that I give the rest in
full from the record.

And the aforesaid William, son of Siward, cometh and doth deny
the right of William of Cressy and all naifty.. .and he saith that he is
a free man and of free estate. For he saith that the aforesaid Harry,
Richard, William, Nigel, Gregory and Robert, whom William bringeth
into his proof to show that he, William, son of Siward, must answerto
this writ ought not to be admitted in such proof. And as to Richard,
son of Robert that is brother of the aforesaid Siward, of whom the
aforesaid Roger, father of the claimant, was seized, he doth answer
and say that he ought not to be admitted into the claimant’s proof,
because Robert, his father, is alive and not present; and while his
father is alive, not being present, he himself cannot make answer. And
as to William, son of William, son of Hugh, brother of the aforesaid
Siward, whom he produceth in proof, he ought not to be admitted,

1 Villainage , 143; and see Appendix xfor one such elaborate pedigree. Com¬
pare also V.C.H. Lines , 11, 300, where such a pedigree is successfully sustained
in court by the lord, and The Times , Jan. 23, 1933, where Miss H. M. Cam
is quoted as saying that u she had been surprised at the precision with which
family trees were produced and cited in the lowest levels of society in the
twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Not only a serf but his Lord could trace the
serfs descent and collateral relationship back for 4 generations.”

2 The editor of the Year Book thinks, however, that it was really heard
temp . Ed. I.

COMPLICATIONS OF PLEADING 315

because William, his father, was not bom in lawful wedlock, but
during the widowhood of his mother. And if William his father, son
of Hugh, were alive, he would not be admissible in proof, because he
was a bastard. And the said William, his son, cannot be in a better
condition than William, his father. And he asketh judgment if he
ought to be admitted, etc. And as to the aforesaid, Nigel, Gregory
and Robert, sons of Denise, sister of the said Siward, whom the
claimant bringeth in proof, etc., they ought not to be received, be¬
cause Denise, their mother, was espoused to a certain free man of W.;
and he saith that the aforesaid Nigel, Gregory and Robert were bom
in lawful wedlock, and ought, therefore, to follow their father and not
their mother, and he asketh judgment whether they are receivable to
prove that any man of the issue of their mother must answer a writ
of naifty. And as to Harry, son of Robert, son of Siward, he saith that
he is not receivable in proof, because he is alone, and the testimony of
a single person is as the testimony of no one. And he saith further that
if the Court shall rule that the aforesaid men whom the claimant
offereth in proof are admissable, the aforesaid reasons and challenges
notwithstanding, then he saith as before that he is a man of free
estate, and he saith that the aforesaid Harry, Richard, William, Nigel,
Gregory and Robert are free men, unless in the King’s Court they
confess that they be villeins. And he saith that one Otes, father of the
aforesaid Siward, is and was a free man, and came as an adventif 1 from
the neighbourhood of Northfield and took [land] in villeinage from
the ancestors of the aforesaid William of Cressy to have and to hold
at their will, and he is ready to aver this in such a way as the Court of
the lord King shall award... .And the said William of Cressy saith
that the aforesaid Otes, father of the aforesaid Siward, was a villein
through his grandfather and his great-grandfather, and was bom on
his land; and he asketh that this be inquired of by the neighbourhood.
And William the son of Siward asketh the like. So the Sheriff is
commanded, etc. 2

1 An adventif is one who comes onto the manor from outside, and is always
presumed to be a free man (see above, p. 311).

2 Y.B. 5 Ed. II, 121-3. The relations between the various parties will be
easily seen from the following:

Otes

Siward Robert Hugh Denise

William Robert Richard William Nigel Gregory Robert

(The defendant) | |

Henry William

The underlined names are those of the kinsmen present in court.

THE ROAD TO FREEDOM

316

Unfortunately we do not know how this action was concluded,
and can only admire the resourcefulness of the attorney’s
pleading and the skilful way in which he tried to dispose of his
opponents. Generally the records do not give us so detailed an
account as this, but merely say that the kinsmen were produced
against the man and he was found to be of servile condition. 1
But the brevity of the record must often hide pleas as elaborate
as the one set out above; we have only to look at, Bracton’s
treatise to see this, where on turning to Book iv, chapter 23, we
may read of the difficulties of pleading when villein status was in
question, and from which it is obvious a clever attorney could
put up a bewildering variety of defences. In his earlier account
Britton says that the defendant shall “aid himself with excep¬
tions to the judge, and then to the person of the plaintiff, and
afterwards to his own person; and next by exception to the writ
if there is any defect or error; and afterwards to the declaration,
if there is any defect, omission, or variance in it; and lastly to the
action”. 2 He then gives an example of how to except against
the kinsmen, which evidently was in the mind of the attorney
who defended William, son of Siward, and goes on to an elaborate
exposition of other defences which could be urged.

One more point may be noted. We have extant a considerable
number of cases in which the lord failed to prosecute when it
came to the day of the Assize. 3 They are not sufficient, perhaps,
to afford good grounds for any argument, but the comparative
frequency of these defaults encourages the belief that the writ
was sometimes used ad terrorem , in the hope that the serf would
not face the dangers, anxiety and expense of an assize. The
default of the lord automatically ended his claim, and he was at
once subjected to a fine for false plea, and the Sheriff instructed
to see that he ceased to aggrieve the defendant in the future. 4

Here our enquiry may well end. The courts of the fourteenth
century and later were making it more and more clear that serf¬
dom was repugnant to the law of England, whatever precedents
drawn from Roman Law, or the subtle arguments of theologians

1 See e.g. BNT.B. No. 1005; Curia Regis Rolls , 1, 22, 45, 67, 187, 263.

* Britton, 1, 206. For a good example see North. Assize Rolls, 195.

8 For such cases see, e.g., B.N.B. No. 1934; Line . Assize Rolls , 32, 35;
Lane . Assize Rolls , 28, 34; North. Assize Rolls, 25, 38, 61, 156, 170, 172, 177.

* Britton, 1, 202; cf. B.N.B. No. 1934.

CONTRIBUTORY CAUSES

3*7

and schoolmen might declare. There was indubitably a general
movement towards freedom, although we may find it difficult to
see clearly how an incident here, or a manumission there, could
do much to aid its forward march. So, at times, we look at a
mountain stream a few miles from its source and marvel at its
impetuous volume, but our wonder would be lessened by a better
knowledge of the hills through which it has passed, and of the
innumerable freshlets which have each contributed their store of
waters, gathered in their turn from vast areas of forest or snow-
field. Our knowledge of the medieval world is much less than
our knowledge of the mountain stream. All we can do is to
assemble our little groups of facts from wherever we can find
them, and try to see how they fit together. The slow march of
the peasant towards freedom is one to which many circumstances
contributed: the harshness of overbearing lords, the attraction of
the towns, the growing realisation that forced labour was not so
profitable in the long run as hired labour, the pressure of events
when war, famine or pestilence depleted the manorial population
and thus left the lord with holdings on his hands which he was
glad to let at a money and not a servile rent—all these, and many
others, were so many contributory causes which finally brought
the manorial system to an end—and with it came the end of
personal subjection and all its humiliating consequences.

The Church

CHAPTER XII

THE CHURCH

I N my first chapter I stressed the importance of the Church
and of religion to medieval man, and now that we have seen
many other sides of his activity, it is time to return to con¬
sider the part played by religion in the lives of the peasants. Of
all our investigations this is perhaps the most difficult, for here
we are dealing with something that was so much a part of every¬
day life that many of its most common details have left but little
trace. What it was everyone’s business to observe it was no one’s
business to record. Who should trouble to note down the multi¬
tudinous details concerning matters which were part of everyday
life—nay more, were part of the whole surrounding scheme of
things and of the very air men breathed ? Most medieval peasants,
if questioned about their beliefs, would have been unable to
answer any more explicitly than can their present-day brothers
in any mountain village of Catholic France or Switzerland. They
do what has always been done. The services, the ceremonial, the
offerings, the obligations—all are part of the scheme of things,
not to be questioned, save by the wicked, and even they, in
articulo mortis , are often not so sure.

Obviously, the peasant’s attitude to religion is not a matter we
can dogmatise about, any more than we have found we can dog¬
matise about his status, obligations or privileges. His religion,
to be sure, was not so much a matter of geography: the devout
believer was much the same everywhere, while the doubter and
blasphemer were animated by like prejudices wherever they were
to be found. In speaking of the peasant’s religion, therefore, we
may assume that the majority were believers, although the fer¬
vour and sincerity of their belief is much more difficult to
estimate. The heretic, declared, was rare, and not to be envied.
He was an outcast from the great body of the faithful, and was
made to feel his exile. Most men feared the isolation of such a
position, and were liable to suffer more than loneliness once the
Church took active steps against them. If we leave them on one
side and concentrate on the faithful, we shall be considering the
great body of medieval peasantry.

BL

31

THE CHURCH

322

Let us start with the village church and the services which the
peasant was accustomed to attend there. The building itself was
symbolic of security, although it was rarely in England that it
became literally the one place of safety, as so often in Germany
and Switzerland, when people sheltered themselves behind its
walls and doors, and the passage of the enemy left of their frail
houses only wreckage and smouldering ruins. Besides giving a
sense of security, the comparative magnificence of many village
churches must have made a deep impression on the simple mind.
The lofty tower, the spacious nave, together with the tracery of
the windows and the carvings on capital and portal, gave men a
sense of “other-worldliness”, while the comparison between the
peace and dignity of God’s house and the squalor and turmoil of
their own hovels made its constant appeal—not very consciously,
perhaps—but inevitably and as part of the whole ethos of the
religious world.

There the church stood, and the peasant could not but be
aware of it, as he passed it on his way to his fields, or as lie heard
the Mass bell sounding as he worked in the meadows or on some
distant forest clearing. How often he entered it is another
matter. We have already seen conclusive evidence that on some
manors the lord was unwilling that his work should cease because
a holy-day strictly required his serf’s attendance at the church;
and we may well conclude that any theory that the majority of
men and women spent their holy-days, as well as Sundays, at
church has no foundation in actual fact. Even writers such as
Myrc do not seem to contemplate any very serious attempt by
ordinary folk to attend all such services. 1 We shall probably be
near the truth if we think of the peasant as attending Mass on
Sunday, and on a few great festivals, such as Christmas and
Easter, on the name-day of the patron saint of the church, and
on days when some special local ceremony, such as carrying the
Virgin from the church to a little chapel on the edge of the parish,
was performed. Otherwise, church-going was much as it is now
—a matter of daily refreshment and happy duty for some, and
only a matter of “use and wont” for many, for whom the
Sunday and other special services sufficed.

Such attendance, however, had more importance than we are

1 Manning, op. ciu 5.

THE CHURCH SERVICES 323

at first inclined to attribute to it, for medieval religion centred
mainly in the building itself. No doubt a limited amount of
simple instruction was given by parents in answer to childish
questions. The crossing at prayers or thanksgiving; the holy
wells and the use of holy water; the sight of the priest carrying
the sacred oils to the house of the sick—these and many other
daily events necessarily provoked enquiry, but it was mainly, if
not solely, in the church itself that instruction was given. ‘ 4 What
mean ye by this service?” would have been a hard question for
the peasant to answer, and he would rightly have said that it was
a matter for the priest and not for him. Indeed, his knowledge
and understanding of what went on in church was not very pro¬
found. He was ignorant, unlettered, without other means of
instruction than that which could be imparted to him by his
village clergy, or by a passing friar. More he only got by his
attention to the details of the service, and to the ideas and stories
embodied in sculpture and painting within and without the
church. These could do something to help educate the peasant;
but, for most of them, their religion was less a matter of thought
than a matter of habit. In common with all their neighbours
they held certain beliefs, did certain things and made certain
donations because, as far as they knew, people had always thus
behaved. The services, themselves, were mysterious to them for
the most part, since the vast majority of medieval congregations
were unable to follow one word of the Latin in which they were
said. The priest rehearsed the words and performed various
actions, while they repeated such prayers and devotions as they
knew. Not that these were many: the Pater Noster and the Ave
were generally known, but even this minimum could not be
assumed; and, although the Apostles’ Creed was looked on as
the layman’s creed, many were ignorant of this. The most that
could be expected from the earnest peasant was the Creed, Pater
and Ave , with, perhaps, the Commandments, and the devout
recital of these was expected to occupy him during the saying of
the Mass. He was thus thrown on his own spiritual resources to
a considerable extent, but this was no real solution and for the
majority some more practical help was necessary.

To meet this need the Church had strained every resource.
Music, painting, miming, imagery—all played their part. The

21-2

324 THE CHURCH

central service of the Church—the Mass—was one great mimetic
rite, and

in the ceremonial of the Mass there was set forth every detail and
every aspect of the atonement of mankind. Not a dogma was omitted,
not the minutest event in Christ’s passion but was commemorated
there. From an art symbolism had been transformed into a science.
Every faculty of man, every property of nature had been captured
and subdued for that supreme drama of worship. Music and silence,
colour and distance, light and darkness, imagery and gesture, all
contributed to the final result. The church itself, even the humblest,
was the poor man’s service book_All helped to make real the un¬

seen things that are eternal. Earth was 4 4 crammed with heaven and
every common bush afire with God”. 1

We must not stress unduly the statement that the church was
44 the poor man’s service book”, for the church could only show
a limited number of Biblical episodes, and many important
aspects of the teaching,of Christ were not easily conveyed in
paint. Nevertheless, the wavering and credulous mind was much
impressed by the wall paintings which showed in crude colours
some of the major events of Biblical history, often depicted with
such a realism that our softer age rapidly covers them up when
they are now disclosed at a cleaning or restoration of a church.
The horrors of hell, or the anguish of the Crucifixion, came
home to the peasant, either soon or late, as week by week his
wandering gaze fell upon them, and half-remembered snatches
of sermons reminded him of that 4 4 fearful place and a dyrke
wher-in appered a fornace all brennyng within; and that fyr had
not elles to brenne bot fendes and quyke sowlys ”. 2 Such scenes
as these, or that of the Last Judgment, could not but have their
effect, and men felt about them the presence of an unseen yet
all-pervading deity, attended by his cohorts of angels, and ever
at war with the powers of darkness.

Further help was less general and less certain in its effect.
Symbolism was much used in medieval ceremonial, but most of
it had no very clear interpretation, especially for the peasant, so
that its force was dissipated and it became the occasion for the
most absurd deductions. In any case very little of it appeared in
the humble village churches—certainly not sufficient to be as

1 Manning, op. cit. 12.

* Revelations of S. Birgitta (E.E.T.S.), 44.

The Last Judgment

y *v

* \

“DUMB DOGS” 335

effective as half-a-dozen straightforward sermons from a wise
village priest would have been.

Here we begin to come to grips with the root weakness of the
medieval Church. Wherever we are able to examine the relation
between clergy and parishioners we are forced to the conclusion
that most of the ordinary parish clergy were inefficient, ill-
educated, undistinguished men. It is unwise to indict a whole
class, but it seems clear that much that was weakest in the
medieval religious system was primarily due to the ill-trained,
ill-educated parish clergy. This, certainly, was the view of some
of the greatest prelates from the thirteenth to the sixteenth cen¬
tury. The unworthy clergy of Archbishop Stephen Langton’s
day were still sufficiently prevalent in Wolsey’s time for him to
be forced to take action against their ignorance and slack be¬
haviour. Indeed it is evident from the reiterated exhortations of
Archbishops and Bishops that they were painfully aware that all
was not well with the clergy. Throughout the four centuries
preceding the Reformation there was a growing feeling that the
condition of the Church would never be improved until the
quality of her clergy was improved. From the thirteenth century
onward we have a series of pronouncements from Church
synods and convocations. Archbishop Peckham’s well-known
constitution of 1281 runs: “The ignorance of the priests casteth
thfi.people into the ditch of error; and the folly or unlearning of
the clergy, who are bidden to instruct the faithful in the Catholic
faith, sometimes tendeth rather to error than to sound doctrine.”
This had been preceded by Langton’s description of some of
the clergy as “ dumb dogs”, whose ability to read the Canon of the
Mass he casts in doubt; and so the plaint goes on down the ages
to the time of Wolsey, who in 1518 tells the synod of York that
he republishes the time-worn constitutions because they had
been ignored in the past, and for emphasis repeats Peckham’s
words. This matter is so important to a proper understanding of
village life that a brief account of the parish priest and his educa¬
tion must be given here.

The crux of the whole matter was put into one of F. W.
Maitland’s revealing statements, when he spoke of the clergy as
belonging to the manorial aristocracy—perhaps at the head of that
aristocracy—but essentially of it. We have evidence in plenty of

THE CHURCH

326

the way in which the clergy of the thirteenth and fourteenth
centuries were recruited from the peasant class, and fourteenth-
century writers draw attention to beggar’s brats who have risen
even to the rank of bishops, and of men, like Chaucer’s parson,
whose brothers were ploughmen. Few of them, indeed, could
hope for much advancement or for rich livings, but they were glad
to serve in more humble positions as vicars and drudges for richer
and more influential men who were seldom seen in their parishes.
Langland’s seemingly autobiographical references in Piers Plow¬
man picture one such type of man—of peasant stock, roaming
from place to place and “singing for silver” at funerals or other
ceremonies, or striving to “pierce heaven with a pater-noster”,
and making a bare living “in London and on London both”.

If we imagine how such men became priests it seems probable
that many of them found themselves being slowly drawn into the
ecclesiastical machine without any very active efforts on their
own part. Perhaps a boy started, to the delight of a pious mother,
as server to the village priest. He would receive the first tonsure,
and afterwards, if still willing to continue, was gradually (or at
times en bloc) promoted through the four minor orders of clergy.
A kindly and lettered priest might teach a promising boy the
elements of Latin, so that he could follow the service and join in
the responses. Sometimes, again, such a boy was made “holy-
water clerk”, and thus got a small income which enabled hirn-to
remain a servant of the Church; and, where it was possible, to
gain a little learning from a private teacher or at a local grammar
school. Learning, however, was not very easily come by for such
men, and those who had the advantage of the formal training at
the grammar school or even at a university found themselves at
the end of it all with what we should consider a very narrow
education. Latin and cognate subjects occupied their studies,
and such things as mathematics, science, history or geography
did not come their way. Nor was there any training peculiarly
fitted to instruct them in their pastoral office. At best, a man
returned from the university a competent Latinist, able to dis¬
pute with some readiness, and the imperfect master of such
fragments of the schoolmen, and of the Fathers and such ancient
authors as his course had set before him. But for the majority
not even this was possible: a moderate ability to read and con-

STIPENDS OF THE CLEftGY 327

strue the Latin of the service books, and a knowledge of the
Church services, gained by years of experience, was all their
stock in trade.

With a limited training such as this, it was the fortune of many
to find themselves serving first as deacons, and then as priests in
the smaller rectories and the vicarages in town and country. The
value of many rectories made them a close preserve of the rich
or influential, but there were a large number of vicarages for
which an absentee rector required a deputy, and there were also
the subordinate positions, such as that of the stipendiary chap¬
lain or the assistant priest to be filled. Thus there were plenty of
opportunities for those men, from whom not over much would
be expected, and who could not look forward to a very generous
stipend or allowances. Mr H. G. Richardson puts it clearly:

Vicars probably had a higher average annual income than the mere
stipendiary chaplains and assistant priests. A great many vicars, how¬
ever, received but five or six marks and even less a year, and though
rectorial incomes ruled higher, yet there were some who must have
been very badly off, particularly if they endeavoured to dispense any
measure of hospitality in addition to meeting the various claims that
fell on an incumbent in respect of the maintenance of the church and
its services.... We cannot go far wrong if we consider the stipendiary
chaplains and assistant priests as forming the lowest-paid grade of
the body of priests and beneficed clergy. Below them come the un¬
beneficed minor clergy, a little above them the perpetual vicars and
poorest rectors, and on an altogether different economic and social
plane the rectors of the really valuable churches. If, further, we
suppose the average chaplain to have had from all sources before the
Black Death an income of six or seven marks (say 90 shillings), and
accept forty-eight shillings as a moderate estimate of the income of a
first-class agricultural labourer, such as a ploughman or carter, at the
same period, we have some indication of whereabouts in the social
scale to place the great mass of poorly paid parish clergy. 1

It is evident then that neither birth, training nor emoluments
was peculiarly favourable to the production of a priesthood of
outstanding merit, and the records, both historical and literary,
bear damning witness of their shortcomings. Such records as
survive of official enquiries into the intellectual state of the
village clergy are staggering. We have, for example, the visitation

1 “The Parish Clergy of the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries,”
Trans. Roy. Hist. Soc . Third Series, vol. vi, 1912.

THE CHURCH

328

by the Dean of Sarum, in 1222, of the clergy of Sonning and the
neighbourhood, in which he found that five of the clergy serving
some seventeen parishes were unable to construe the central
portion of the service of the Mass. The curate of Sonning, who
had been a priest for four years, was unable to understand the
gospel for the First Sunday in Lent, and could not construe the
first words of the Canon of the Mass, nor could he tell the dif¬
ference between one antiphon and another. Another curate, who
had been priested four years previously, was reported as knowing
nothing of reading or singing. Another could give no answer to
simple questions; and the next examined is reported as knowing
nothing. 1

It was to men such as these that the peasant turned, perforce,
in his time of need. Sometimes he was lucky, and found a man
as humane and clear as to his pastoral duties as was Chaucer’s
parson; sometimes he was unlucky, and had a man as weak and
idle as those pilloried in the visitations, or in Langland or Gower.
But, good or bad, their help was limited, for they had had no
systematic training in theology or pastoral duties, and could offer
little more than sympathy and an imperfect exposition of the
mysteries of the Faith. Even the simple eloquence of man y a
latter-day preacher in his weekly sermon was not theirs, for ser¬
mons were far from frequent, and the ordinary priest but little
skilled in preaching. He was, indeed, ordered to deliver four
sermons a year by Archbishop Peckham, and in the thirteenth
century we find frequent sermons advocated. But sermon
making was an art beyond the ordinary priest: he left that to
those trained rhetoricians—the friars; and, for his own part,
endeavoured to explain the tenets of the Faith, and to give
elementary instruction to his parishioners. T his was, however,
all very elementary, and his own limited intelligence and reading
were reflected in his teaching. The best he could do was to
administer the sacraments and to conduct the services in an
orderly and decent manner.

The fact that he, himself, was frequently of peasant stock
made him the more capable of understanding his parishioner’s
point of view. What would have been sheer heresy or gross
superstition to a better informed man was frequently part of his
1 Reg. S. Osmund. (R.S.), 1, 304®.

THE PEASANT-PRIEST

329

own intellectual make-up, and he therefore kept a closer contact
with his flock than a more erudite but less sympathetic mind
would have done. It is of the greatest importance that we should
emphasise this identity of interests: indeed, it has remained a
strength (despite its many drawbacks) of the Catholic Church
until to-day. The ample priest, with his soiled soutane and
heavy boots, who clambers into the local French autobus, and after
greeting most of the passengers settles down in happy converse
with them en route to their village, is the modem descendant of
most medieval parish priests. No one can view such a group
without realising that there is some close relation between such
people which the parson of the average English country parish,
drawn as he is from a different social status and educated at the
university and clergy school, will not easily achieve.

Were there no more to be said, we might be inclined to feel
that on balance the peasant-priest was the right man in the right
place. But, unfortunately, there is more in it than this; the priest
must live, and, as we have seen, his stipend was not a princely
one. Certainly it put him on a level with the largest holders in the
fields, but often no more than this, and it must be remembered
that his salary had to support not only himself, but sometimes one
or more clerics who assisted him, as well as a “hearth-mate 55 —a
frequent inhabitant of clerical homes, even though Canon Law
an^i Church discipline refused her the title of wife. In conse¬
quence, many incumbents found it impossible to exist solely on
their ecclesiastical income, and were therefore forced to partici¬
pate in worldly matters, which in general meant agriculture.

Indeed, practically all had a certain amount of land, called
glebe, assigned to them in the manor by virtue of their office.
This glebe land was at times scattered over the common fields,
and at other times was consolidated in blocks or closes, and the
parson cultivated it himself, or let it out to others. These
44 Church furlongs 55 or “parson’s closes 55 forced the clerics to
take part in the agricultural life of the village, and many, for
economic reasons, were obliged to go further than this, and to
engage in the common agricultural routine and organisation of
the open-field system. In stepping down in this way into the
area of everyday affairs they lost something by way of prestige,
and were drawn into economic and petty quarrels of a most

THE CHURCH

330

undesirable nature. For example, they were forced to enter into
open competition for the sale of surplus stock and crops, and to
indulge in buying and selling, although this was against Church
law, which a long series of admonitions tried in vain to enforce.
And with all this went other scandals. Priests found them¬
selves haled before Manor Courts; accused of various manorial
offences; fined, admonished, and treated in many ways like their
peasant flock to the detriment of their position. Not only this,
the priest constantly found his worldly ends conflicting with
those of his parishioners, who were his rivals at a fair, or were his
competitors for some piece of assart, or favoured close, which each
wished to control. The claims of strict business and those of true
religion marched ill together, and hot blood engendered in the
market-place was not easily cooled elsewhere, so that the priest
and a number of his flock were liable to find themselves at
loggerheads, almost despite themselves, as a consequence of the
system which controlled them both.

In addition to the difficulties which arose in these ways, there
was the ever-present difficulty of tithe. Then, as now, men paid
tithes very reluctantly, and with many a curse against the Church
(and sometimes its agents) which extracted them. Tithe seemed
unreasonable to many, since to their way of thinking it took part
of their small property and bestowed it upon a man, certainly no
worse off than themselves for the most part, and frequently^
man who was comparatively well-to-do. The Church, moreover,
did not help matters by the severity with which she had laid
down what things were tithable, and by the rigour with which
she insisted on their due payment. In addition to the great
tithes, which were principally taken on corn, there were the
lesser tithes, and these were wellnigh all-embracing.

The tithes constituted a land tax, income tax and death duty far
more onerous than any known in modem times, and proportionately
unpopular. The farmers [were] bound to render a strict tenth of all
their produce—theoretically, at least, down to the very pot-herbs of

their gardens-Moreover, the law was pitiless to the peasant. Tithes

of wool were held to include even the down of his geese; the very
grass he cut by the road side was to pay its due toll; the farmer who
deducted working expenses before tithing his crops damned him¬
self thereby to hell... .We need scarcely wonder that the laity, thus
situated, excogitated many subterfuges of “excessive malice.. .to the

TITHES

33i

manifest prejudice of ecclesiastical rights and liberties, and to the
grievous harm of their own souls” which may be found set out at
length in Stratford’s constitutions and elsewhere. 1

The multiplicity of things tithable suggests how important a
source of income tithes represented to the Church, and it is,
therefore, not surprising to find that they were exacted with con¬
siderable pressure where this was necessary. “Full loath were
him to cursen for his tithes*’, says Chaucer of his model parish
priest, and few of his contemporaries would have failed to
recognise how rare a man this made him. The fiercest curses of
the Church were stored up for those who were recalcitrant, and
the priest was instructed to pronounce their excommunication
with book, bell and candle.

It is without question that these demands for tithe, con¬
tinuously asserted and enforced as they were, led to frequent
difficulties, and tended to estrange the priest from his flock.
Men could not see why they should make these payments to a
man, whom, although a priest, they knew to be drawn from their
own ranks, and whose parents and brethren, nay, often himself,
still worked side by side with them in their unending struggle to
win a living from the soil.

The priest, then, needed to be a man of unusual character
to overcome these many difficulties, and we must always bear
this in mind before we condemn him for the innumerable
lapses that undoubtedly occurred. Throughout these centuries
we need not doubt that many priests tried, and did their utmost
—so far as their birth, education and the system would allow—
to be true shepherds to their flocks. Medieval England would
have been immeasurably the poorer without them: their presence
in the parish gave a natural leader to those forces and aspirations
making for good, even amidst the dangerous passions of a half-
civilised world. Whether from love or fear, many peasants were
kept within bounds by the occasional rebuke or the kindly re¬
monstrance of their village priest, and their influence in this way
was undoubtedly considerable.

Yet, it still remains true that, wherever we can glimpse the
actual life of the medieval clergy, it falls far short of what would
seem desirable, even at a moderate estimate. The opportunity
1 G. G. Coulton, Ten Medieval Studies , 124.

THE CHURCH

33^

was much greater than the fulfilment. From time to time
(though, unfortunately, not often within the period mainly
dealt with here) a “close-up” of religious life in the parish is
given by means of an episcopal or archidiaconal visitation. On
such occasions, as is well known, the worst side of affairs is
presented: it is as though we had to judge the morality and con¬
duct of a town or country solely by its police-court records.
Nevertheless, the damning facts remain: the evil is there, how¬
ever much it may be set off by the good, and when the evil in a
parish finds its focus in the clergy, and within his house, do what
we will, we cannot but admit that this is peculiarly potent. The
clergy may well be considered as the salt of the earth, but what if
the salt hath lost its savour, or, as Chaucer put it, “ If gold ruste,
what shal iren do?” The visitation documents, it must be ad¬
mitted, show a very tarnished gold in many parishes. The
Hereford visitation of 1397 is the fullest we have left, and even
when we make every allowance for it being a border diocese, and
for the influence of “Wild Wales”, the total effect of the evidence
is so startling as to be almost incredible to modern readers. 1 The
condition of affairs in 281 parishes is surveyed, and in 44 of these
the jury report that all is well. In some of the remaining parishes
the main offenders are the laity, but with surprising frequency the
clergy also are involved. Their offences come under many heads:
gravest of all is the constant charge of immorality. There are,
more than sixty cases mentioned of clerical offenders—rectors,
vicars, chaplains—all are again and again denounced as forni¬
cators and adulterers, and as keeping women from their hus¬
bands. When we notice the monotonous regularity with which
men and women in almost every parish are accused of this same
offence, it is impossible to ignore the part played by this evil
clerical example. Complaints against the clergy are distressingly
frequent: John Pole, the chantry priest at Weston, absents him¬
self for weeks at a time from his church, and his Mass is not said;
the vicar of Werley similarly neglects his cure; the rector of
Monesley does not reside as he should and the divine services go
unsaid, for neither here, nor at Cowarne Parva, is any deputy
provided by the absent rector. With this neglect to provide a
deputy go other wrongs: here at Cowarne the chancel of the
1 E.H.R. XLIV, 279-89, 444-53; XLV, 92-101; 444-63.

AN EPISCOPAL VISITATION

333

church is dilapidated, with broken windows, and leaky roof, and
the rectory house is falling to pieces for want of repair. At
Peterchurch, the rector refuses to provide the necessary service-
books, or to mend a breach in the churchyard wall, or to repair
the chancel. At Werley, the rector is accused of threshing his
corn in the churchyard, and is ordered not to do so again; but
an accusation that the vicar pastures his horses, cows and ducks
therein is expressly denied. Parish after parish presents similar
pictures: the vicar or the chaplains are absentees or irregular;
the services are neglected or hurriedly said: at Garwy, where
Welsh and English both were spoken, the parson could not
understand many of his congregation who spoke only Welsh.
Some parsons were ill-famed of tavern-haunting and drunken¬
ness; others were common traders, “buying and selling various
goods and taking money therefor ”; others, again, refused to bury
the dead, or to baptise, or to administer the last sacrament with¬
out giving sufficient reason. The chaplain of Colwall is accused
of forging a will, and naming himself as executor; while the
vicar of Yazore, and the vicar of Erdesley are both known as
common usurers.

So we might go on with this wearisome list. If we turn to look
at the individual parishes in detail some astounding complaints
come to light. To take one or two examples, almost at random.
The parishioners complain that the rector of Wentnor does not
efficiently conduct the Mass and other services, that he has
allowed his manse to fall into disrepair, and that he frequents
taverns by day and night to the scandal of religion. This, how¬
ever, he denies. They also assert that he does not provide the
vestments as he is bound to do, and that he had “put his benefice
to hire” to John Bent, a dishonest and uncapable chaplain, who
still retains some of the church ornaments, and who is ill-famed
with a certain Meveddus. The affairs of another parish (North
Lydbury), which were dealt with the same day, showed that the
chancel needed repair, and the necessary vestments were lacking,
both by the rector’s neglect. The deacon neglected the bell¬
ringing, and the vicar absented himself from Michaelmas on¬
wards, but drew his salary all the time. The deacon was accused
of having lost a chalice, while the vicar was said to have com¬
mitted adultery with Johanna Staltoghe. The same day, the

THE CHURCH

334

parishioners of Clun said that their parish chaplain provoked
quarrels and strife in the parish; he refused to take the sacrament
to a dying man, who therefore died unshriven; while another
was buried without the funeral Mass and prayers by his neglect.
He also absented himself on Corpus Christi Day, and was in¬
continent with a married woman, and actually baptised his own
child by her, and afterwards had by her another infant.

These two pages must suffice. They are neither better nor
worse than the average presented by this visitation, and even
when we have made all allowances for village gossip, malice and
ignorance, what a picture they present! In a few parishes all is
well; but the others unroll a continuous story of indifference,
neglect and worse. The parson of Eardisley, at war with his
parishioners, served by his two maid servants at Mass, and gravely
suspect of his relations with them, is pictured for us as he buries
a parishioner, and shouts at the corpse, “Lie you there, ex¬
communicate ”. John, the chaplain of Kilpeck, is another strange
cleric who, the villagers say, “seemeth to them by no means
firm in the faith, for he hath oftentimes conjured by night with
familiar spirits” (fecitpompam suarn tempore nocturno cum spiritis
fantastids). Richard Sterre, although he has been convicted of
adultery and excommunicated by the bishop, still continues to
celebrate in the church at Scheldesley, and is accused of con¬
tinuing his luxury with the woman, even within the church itself^
and is also ill-famed of her sister. He and his fellow chaplain go
about armed by night, chattering and frightening the parishioners.
The shortcomings of these Hereford clerics would be un¬
believable, were they not recorded item by item as a result of
this official enquiry. 1

“As the shepherd, so are the sheep.” These same documents
show us the low state of morality and of devotion to the Church
in the villages of this diocese. Adultery and immorality are
widespread; men and women refuse to come to church, and go
about theirwork on holy-days and Sundays; theyneglect to pro¬
vide the necessary lights for the church, or to repair the nave
and churchyard wall when necessary. Mortuaries and tithes are
evaded, and the pants benedictus is not presented by some in their

1 A detailed examination and commentary on this visitation will be found
in G. G. Coulton, Old England, Chapter 14.

“THE POURE PARSON OF A TOWNE” 335

due turn. Superstition is an integral part of life, and some are
even accused of witchcraft. These things required a strong good
clergy to control them, for men will listen to those whom they
know to have convictions—even though they are inclined to
dispute them: but many a priest was obviously a by-word in
these parishes, just as Sloth the Parson was in his parish, and
men could attach but little credence or respect to anything
they said.

Let us leave them on one side, and take a man as capable and
sincere as Chaucer’s “poure parson of a towne”, and try to
imagine what was his influence in his parish. In the first place,
he stood for something outside the daily round of toil and
bartering, and only reluctantly entered the arena if forced to do
so by stubborn or hostile parishioners who denied him his dues
or privileges. These, undoubtedly, he was forced to stand up
for; but, given a man such as Chaucer’s parson, we may well
imagine that he got what was his without undue friction.
Secondly, small though his learning was, he was frequently the
only “ clerk” in the village. His superior knowledge and reputed
wisdom settled many disputes, both at the formal “love-days”,
and at other times when occasion offered. He could make the
rough account for the reeve, and the preliminary survey called
for by the lord’s steward. But, above all, his sacred calling gave
him an authority and a special place which were generally un¬
challenged. The Church and its ministers, as we have seen, stood
for much in medieval life, and most villagers went without ques¬
tion to their parish church week by week, as well as in moments
of exaltation or of despair. The priest consoled, advised, ad¬
monished, encouraged: he was with them at the great moments
of life and death, and for good or ill he was emphatically the
parson—that is the person of the village. Hence we may well
regard him as a focus of all those forces making for good in the
parish, and a constant warrior against evil and superstition.

Evil and superstition, as we have seen, were ever present in
the medieval village; but the Church standing in the centre of
things was a constant reminder to the peasant of that great un¬
seen cloud of saints and believers who had gone before, and whose
witness encouraged him to believe in the omnipotence of God
and of His Holy Angels, and in the salvation only to be found

THE CHURCH

336

in the Church, 44 the Mother of us all 55 . These beliefs were part
of his life, only counterbalanced to some degree by his fear of
the Devil and his agents, and by his credulous anxiety to do what
he could to avert the evil eye or the machinations of some malign
spirit. Whether his parish was served by a good or a bad parson,
and whether his own faith was strong or otherwise, he could
not resist the constantly recurring thought that he was living
in a world in which these clashing forces of good and evil were
ever at war—a war in which his own soul and eternal future
was the stake. Few men, if pressed, would have denied this; and,
as it coloured the whole of their thought, so we, in our turn, must
try to see the medieval peasant living under its dominating
shadow.

GLOSSARY

affeer. To settle the amount of an amercement, to assess.
assart. A piece of forest or waste, converted into arable by grubbing up
the trees and brushwood.

assize of bread and ale. The statutory regulation or settling of the price
of bread and of ale, with reference to that of grain, in accordance
with the ordinance of 51 Henry III.
balk. A ridge left between two furrows, or a strip of ground left un¬
ploughed as a boundary line between two ploughed portions.
boon-work. A day’s work, given gratuitously to a lord by his men on
a special occasion.

“ Borough English” The name of a form of land-tenure whereby a man’s
property descended to his youngest son.
bovates . An ox-gang, or as much land as an ox could plough in a
year; varying in amount from 10 to 18 acres according to the
system of tillage.

chevage. An annual payment made to a lord by each of his unfree
tenants.

court-leet. A court held periodically in a lordship or manor, before the
lord or his steward, having jurisdiction over petty offences and the
civil affairs of the district.

croft . A piece of enclosed ground, generally adjacent to a house, used
for tillage or pasture.

curtilage . A small court, yard, or piece of ground attached to adwelling-
„ o house, and forming one enclosure with it.
customal. A written collection or abstract of the customs of a manor.
dooms . Judgments or decisions made formally by the suitors or the
jury of the Manor Court. ,

essoin . The allegation of an excuse for non-attendance at a court at the
appointed time.

extents. The formal recitation and valuation of the various lands of a
manor, and also of the services, rents, profits, etc. of the same.
eyre. The circuit court held by the justices in eyre (Lat. in itinere , on a
journey).

fire-bote. The wood granted to the tenants by a lord for the purpose of
fuel.

frank-pledge. The system whereby every member of a tithing (q.v.)
was answerable for the good conduct of, or the damage done by,
any one of the other members.

— view of. A court held periodically for the production of the members
of a tithing, later of a hundred or manor.
bl 22

338 GLOSSARY

gavelkind . The name of a form of land-tenure whereby a man’s property
was divisible among his sons.

gersuma. A fine paid to the lord on entering upon a holding.
gestum. A guest’s portion: an allowance of meat and drink.

Gules of August. The first day of August.

haye~bote. The right to take wood or thorns for the repair of fences
granted to the peasant by the lord.
hayward . A manorial officer having charge of the enclosures, especially
in haymaking or harvest times.

heriot. The surrender of the best live beast or dead chattel of a deceased
tenant due by custom to the lord of whom he held.

Hock Day . The second Tuesday after Easter Sunday; in former times
an important term-day, on which rents were paid, Hock-day and
Michaelmas dividing the rural year into its summer and winter
halves.

homage. A body of persons owning allegiance, and attending a
manorial court.

hous-bote . The right of a tenant to take wood from his lord’s estate for
the repair of his house.

infangenethef. Jurisdiction over a thief apprehended within the lord’s
manor; the right of a lord to try and amerce a thief caught within
his manor.

medale . A drinking festivity after the lord’s meadows had been mowed.
medkniche. A haymaker’s fee, viz. as much hay as the hayward can lift
with his middle finger to his knees.
merchet. A fine paid by a servile tenant to his lord for liberty to give
his daughter in marriage.

messor. An official appointed to oversee the manorial reapers or mowers.
messuage . A portion of land occupied as a site for a dwelling-house and
its appurtenances.

mortuary. A customary gift (usually the second best animal) paid to the
parish priest from the estate of a deceased parishioner.
naifty. The state of being bom in bondage or serfdom.
nativi. Persons of servile birth.

outfangenethef. The lord’s right to pursue a thief outside his own
jurisdiction, bring him back to his own court for trial, and keep
his forfeited chattels on conviction.
pannage. The payment made to the lord for the privilege of feeding
beasts in the woods about the village.
pinfold. A place for confining stray or impounded cattle, horses, etc.;
a pound.

pittancer. An officer of a religious house who had the duty of distri¬
buting charitable gifts or allowances of food.

GLOSSARY

339

pone . A writ, whereby an action could be removed from the county
court into the royal court.
pytel. A small field or enclosure; a close.

rebeck. A musical instrument, having three strings, and played with a
bow; an early form of the fiddle.

reeve. A manorial official, usually of servile status, appointed to oversee
the general working of the manor.

sake and soke. A right of jurisdiction claimed by some manorial lords.
seisin. Possession.

selions. A ridge or narrow strip lying between two furrows formed in
dividing an open field.

sheriffs tourn . The turn or circuit made by the sheriff of a county
twice a year, in which he presided at the hundred-court in each
hundred of the county.

stinting . Limiting, especially the rights of pasture.
suit of mill. The obligation of tenants to resort to a special mill (usually
that of their lord) to have their com ground.
tallage. A tax levied by a manorial lord upon his unfree tenants.
tally. A notched stick, which was split in two, one half being kept by
the seller and the other half by the receiver.
tithing. A company (originally) of ten householders in the system of
frank-pledge.

tithingman. The chief man of a tithing.
toft. The site of a house and its outbuildings.

virgate. A measure of land, varying greatly in extent, but very frequently
averaging 30 acres.

~zueek-work. Work done for the lord by his bond-tenants so many days
a week.

22-2

ABBREVIATIONS AND AUTHORITIES

ABBREVIATIONS

E.E.T.S. Early English Text Society.

E.H.R. English Historical Review.

R.S. Rolls Series, Chronicles and Memorials.

V.C.H. Victoria County Histories.

AUTHORITIES

This list makes no pretence to bibliographical completeness, but

endeavours to record the principal authorities consulted and quoted in

this volume.

Manuscript materials

Abbots Langley. Halimota tenta apud Langele (28 Hen. Ill—51 Ed. III).
Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge. MS. A. 1. 1.

C.R . Court Rolls preserved in the Public Record Office.

Ely Rolls. Rentals, Accounts, etc. preserved in the Muniment room of
the Bishop of Ely. (Ely Diocesan Registry.)

Min. Acc. Ministers* Accounts, preserved in the Public Record Office.

Rentals and Surveys . Rentals and Surveys, preserved in the Public
Record Office.

U.L.C. University Library, Cambridge, Manuscripts in.

Printed materials

A.A.S.R. Associated Architectural Societies' Reports and Papers.

. Lincoln, 1867- .

*Addy. S. O. Addy. The Evolution of the English House. (Social England
Series.) 1898.

Alphabet of Tales. An Alphabet of Tales in Northern English , from the
Latin. Ed. Mary M. Banks. (E.E.T.S. Original Series, 126, 127.)
1905-

Ambresbury Cust. Rentalia et custumaria Michaelis de Ambresbury ,
I2 35 "- 52 > etRogerideFora, 1252—61. Ed. T. S. Holmes. (Somerset
Record Society.) 1891.

Ancient Deeds. Ancient Deeds in the Public Record Office , Descriptive
Catalogue 0/, 1890-1900.

Ann. Dunst. Annales prioratus de Dunstaplia. Ed. H. R. Luard. (Rolls
Series.) 1866.

Arch. Joum. Journal of the British Archaeological Association. 1845- .

Ashley, Bread. Sir W. J. Ashley. The Bread of our Forefathers , an
inquiry in Economic History. Oxford, 1928.

Ashley, Econ. Hist. Sir W. J. Ashley. Introduction to English Economic
History and Theory, vol. 1. (Ninth impression.) 1913*

342 ABBREVIATIONS AND AUTHORITIES

Ault. W. O. Ault. Private Jurisdiction in England. (Yale Historical
Publications.) New Haven, 1923.

B.N.B. Bracton's Note Book. Ed. F. W. Maitland. 1887.

Ballard. British Borough Charters , 1042-1216. Ed. A. Ballard,
Cambridge, 1913.

Banstead . H. C. M. Lambert. History of Banstead. 1912.

Baskervill. C. R. Baskervill. Dramatic Aspects of Medieval Folk
Festivals in England . (Studies in Philology, Vol. xvn.) 1920.
Battle Cust. Battle Abbey , Customals of. Ed. S. R. Scargill-Bird.
(Camden Society.) 1887.

Bed. Hist. Rec. Soc. Bedfordshire Historical Record Society. Aspley
Guise, 1913- *

Benham, Red Book. The Red Paper Book of Colchester. Transcribed and
translated by W. G. Benham. Colchester, 1902.

Bensington . M.T. Pearman. History of the Manor of Bensington. 1896.
Bilsington Cart . The Cartulary and Terrier of the Priory of Bilsington ,
Kent . Ed. N. Neilson. (Records of the Social and Economic
History of England and Wales, vol. vii.) Oxford, 1928.

Black Book Aug. The Register of St Augustine's Abbey t Canterbury ,
commonly called the Black Book. Ed. G. J. Turner and Rev.
H. E. Salter. (Records of the Social and Economic History of
England and Wales, vol. n.) Oxford, 1916.

Bleadon. The customal of Bleadon -Ed. E. Smirke. (Royal Archaeo¬

logical Institute of Great Britain.) 1851.

Bloch. M. Bloch. Les Caracthres originaux de Vhistoire rurale frangaise.
(Instituttet for sammenlignende Kulturforskning, Serie B. xxx.)
Oslo, 1931.

Blount. T. Blount. Tenures of Land and Customs of Manors. New
edition by W. C. Hazlitt. London, 1874.

Bracton. De legibus et consuetudinibus Anglia e libri quinque. Ed. Sir
Travers Twiss. (Rolls Series.) 1878-83.

Bridges, Northants. The history and antiquities of Northamptonshire.
Compiled from the manuscript collections of...J. Bridges by
P* Whalley. Oxford, 1791.

Bristol and Glouc. Arch. Soc. Trans. Bristol and Gloucester Archaeo¬
logical Society. Transactions. Bristol, 1876- *

Britton. Britton; the French text...with translation. Ed. F. M.
Nichols. 1865.

Burton Cart. Abstract of the contents of the Burton Chartidary. Ed.
G. Wrottesley. (Wm Salt Archaeological Society, Collections V,
part 1.) 1884.

Cal. Charter Rolls. Calendar of the Charter Rolls , preserved in the
Public Record Office , Henry III- . 1903- .

Cal. Close Rolls. Calendar of the Close Rolls , preserved in the Public
Record Office , Edward I- . 1892- *

ABBREVIATIONS AND AUTHORITIES 343

Cal. Inquis. Misc. Calendar of Inquisitions Miscellaneous ( Chancery)
preserved in the Public Record Office , 1219- . 1916-.

Cal. Pat. Rolls. Calendar of Patent Rolls preserved in the Public Record
Office , Henry III- . 1891- .

Camb. Antiq. Soc. Proc. Cambridge Antiquarian Society. Proceedings.
Cambridge, 1859- .

Camb. Hist. Journ. The Cambridge Historical Journal. Cambridge,
1923- .

Castlecombe. G. P. Scrope. History of the Manor and Ancient Barony
of Castlecombe. 1852.

Catholicon. Catholicon Anglicum: An Early English Dictionary , 1483.
Ed. S. J. Herrtage. (E.E.T.S. Original Series, 75.) 1881.

Charters Salis. Charters and documents ... 0/ cathedral , city and diocese
of Salisbury. Ed. W. D. Macray. (Rolls Series.) 1891.

Chester Chartulary. The Chartulary or Register of the Abbey of S. Wer -
burgh, Chester. Ed. J. Tait. (Chetham Society, vol. lxxix, N.S.)
Manchester, 1920.

Chester Rolls. Calendar of County Court, City Court and Eyre Rolls of
Chester , 1259-1297. Ed. R. Stewart-Brown. (Chetham Society,
Vol. lxxxiv, N.S.) Manchester, 1925.

Clare. G. A. Thornton. A History of Clare , Suffolk. Cambridge,
1928.

Clutterbuck. R. Clutterbuck. The history and antiquities of Hertford.
1815-27.

Col. Cart. Cartularium monasterii S. Johamtis Baptiste de Colecestria.
Ed. S. A. Moore. (Roxburghe Club.) 1897.

* Com Milling. R. Bennett and J. Elton. History of Com Milling. 1898-
1904.

Coventry Leet Book. The Coventry Leet Book. Ed. M. Dormer Harris.
(E.E.T.S. Original Series, 134, 135, 138.) 1907-9.

Crawley. The Economic and Social History of an English Village
( Crawley , Hampshire). N. S. B. Gras and E. C. Gras. (Harvard
Economic Studies, xxxiv.) Cambridge, Mass. 1930.

Crondal Records. Records and documents relating to the hundred and
manor of Crondal. Ed. F. J. Baigent. (Hampshire Record Society.)
1891.

Crowland Estates. The Estates of Crowland Abbey. A Study in Manorial
Administration. F. M. Page. Cambridge, 1934.

Cumb. and West. Arch. Soc. Trans. Cumberland and Westmorland
Antiquarian and Archaeological Society. Transactions . Kendal,
1874- .

Cunningham. W. Cunningham. The Growth of English Industry and
Commerce during the Early and Middle Ages. 4^ edition. Cam¬
bridge, 1905.

344 ABBREVIATIONS AND AUTHORITIES

Cur . Regis Rolls. Curia Regis Rolls , preserved in the Public Record
Office , Richard I- . 1923- .

Cust. Rents. N. Neilson. Customary Rents. (Oxford Studies in Social
and Legal History, 11.) Oxford, 1910.

Cust. Roff. J. Thorpe. Custumale Roffeme. 17S8.

Cutts. E. L. Cutts. Parish Priests and their People in the Middle
Ages in England. 1898.

D.S.P. The Domesday of St Paul's of the year 1222. Ed. W. H. H. Hale.
(Camden Society.) 1858.

Dart. Pres. Assoc. S. A. Moore, Rights of Common upon the Forest of
Dartmoor and the Commons of Devon. (Dartmoor Preservation
Association Publications, 1.) 1890.

Davenport. F. G. Davenport. The Economic Development of a Norfolk
Manor , 1086-1565. Cambridge, 1906.

Delisle. L. Delisle. Etudes sur la condition de la classe agricole .. .en
Normandie au moyen-dge. fivreux, 1851. Repr. Paris, 1903.

Denton. W. Denton. England in the Fifteenth Century. 1888.

Derby Arch. Soc. Derbyshire Archaeological and Natural History
Society. Journal . London and Derby, 1879- .

Devon Assoc. Devonshire Association for the Advancement of Science,
Literature and Art. Transactions. Plymouth, 1863- .

Dives and Pauper. Anonymous dialogue, probably by a friar of about
1400, printed by W. de Worde in 1496. It is not paginated, but
divided into commandments and chapters.

Dugdale, Warwick. W. Dugdale. The antiquities of Wanoickshire y
illustrated. Coventry, 1765.

Dulwich. W. Young. The History of Dulwich College . 1889.

Dunstable Cartulary. A digest of the Charters preserved in the Cartulary
of the Priory of Dunstable. Ed. G. H. Fowler. (Bedfordshire
Historical Record Society, vol. x.) 1926.

Dur. Halmote Rolls. Halmota Prioratus Dunelmensis, 1296-1384. Ed.
W. H, D. Longstaffe and J. Booth. (Surtees Society.) Durham,
1889.

Econ. Documents (Tawney). English Economic history: select documents.
Compiled and edited by A. E. Bland, P. A. Brown and R. H.
Tawney, 1914.

Econ. Hist. Supplement to the Economic Journal. 1926- .

Econ. Hist. Rev. Economic History Review. 1927- .

Econ.Joum. The Economic Journal. 1891- .

Eliz. Eng. Elizabethan England: from “A Description of England" by
W. Harrison. Ed. L. Withington. N.D.

Eng. Farming. R. E. Prothero (Lord Ernie). English Farming Past and
Presents 1912.

ABBREVIATIONS AND AUTHORITIES 345

Essex Review. The Essex Review . 1892- .

Evolution Eng. Farm . M. E. Seebohm. The Evolution of the English
Farm. 1927.

Eynsham Cart. Eynsham Cartulary . Ed. H. E. Salter. (Oxford Histo¬
rical Society, 49, 51.) Oxford, 1907-8.

Eyre Kerct (Seld. Soc.). 77 ze Eyre 0/ JK’ewf, 6-7 Edward II. Ed. W. C.

Bolland. (Selden Society, 24.) 1910..

Eyton, Shrops. R. W. Eyton. Antiquities of Shropshire. 1854-60.

FestiaL J. Myrk. Mirk’s Festial. Ed. T. Erbe. (E.E.T.S. Extra Series,
xcvi.) 1905.

Feudal Docs. Feudal Documents from the Abbey of Bury St Edmunds.
Ed. D. C. Douglas. (Records of the Social and Economic History
of England and Wales, vol. vm.) Oxford, 1932.

Field Systems. H. L. Gray. English Field Systems . (Harvard Historical
Studies, xxii.) Cambridge, Mass. 1915.

Fitzherbert. The Book of Husbandry. (English Dialect Society.)
1882.

Fitzherbert, Abridgement . A. Fitzherbert. La Graunde Abridgement ,
I 5 i 4 -

Fleta. Ed. J. Selden. 1647.

Frideswide’s , St. Cart. The Cartulary of the Monastery of StFrideswide at
Oxford. Ed. S. R. Wigram. (Oxford Historical Society, 28, 31.)
Oxford, 1895-6.

Gale, Richmond. Registrum honoris de Richmond. Ed. R. Gale. 1722.
Gascoigne. Gascoigne’s Theological Dictionary — 1403-1458. Ed.
. «J. E. T. Rogers. 1881.

Glanvill. R. de Glanvill. Tractatus de legibus et consuetudintbus regni
Angliae. 1673 edition.

Glas. Rent. Rentalia et Custumaria Monasterii beataeMariae Glastioniae.
(Somerset Record Society.) 1891.

Glouc. Cart. Historia et Cartularium Monasterii Sancti Petri Glouces-
triae. (Rolls Series.) 1863—7.

Godstow Cart . The English Register of Godstow Nunnery. Ed. A. Clarke.

(E.E.T.S. Original Series, 129, 130.) 1905-6.

Gomme. G. L. Gomme. The Village Community. 1890.

Gower, Mir our. The Complete Works of John Gower , vol. 1. Ed. G. C.
Macaulay. Oxford, 1899.

Gower Surveys. Surveys of Gower and Kilvey. Ed. C. Baker and G. G.
Francis. (Cambrian Archaeological Association.) N.D.

Gross. C. Gross. The Gild Merchant. Oxford, 1890.

Growth of Manor. P. VinogradofL The growth of the Manor . Oxford,
1911.

346 ABBREVIATIONS AND AUTHORITIES

Guisborough Cart. Cartularium prioratus de Gyseburne. Ed. W. Brown.

(Surtees Society.) Durham, 1889-94.

Hales Rolls. Court Rolls of the Manor of Hales , 1272-1307. Ed.

J. Amphlett, etc. (Worcester Historical Society.) 1910-33.
Handlyng Synne. Robert \Mannyng\ of Brunne's Handlyng Synne
(1303). Ed. F. J. Furnivall. (E.E.T.S. Original Series, 119, 123.)

1901-3-

Hatfield's Survey. Hatfield's Survey , A Record of the Possessions of the
See of Durham. Ed. W. Greenwell. (Surtees Society.) Durham,

1857-

Helmbrecht. Peasant Life in old German Epics: Meier Helmbrecht and
Der Arme Heinrich . Trans, by C. H. Bell. New York, Columbia
University Press, 1931.

Higham Ferrers. W. J. B. Ker. Higham Ferrers and its ... Castle and
Park . Northampton, 1925.

Hist. MSS. Com. Historical Manuscripts Commission , Reports. 1874- .
Hist. Teachers' Misc. The History Teachers' Miscellany . Ed. H. W.
Saunders. Cambridge, 1922- .

Hodgson. J. Hodgson. A History of Northumberland. 1820-58.
Holdsworth. W. S. Holdsworth. A History of English Law* 3rd edition.
1922- .

Hone. N. J. Hone. The Manor and Manorial Records. (Antiquary’s
Books.) 1906.

Hugh , St. Magna vita S. Hugonis episcopi Lincolniensis. Ed. J. F.
Dimock. (Rolls Series.) 1864.

Icklingham Papers. H. Prigg. Icklingham Papers. Ed. V. B.

Redstone. Woodbridge, 1901. *

Ingoldmells Rolls. Court Rolls of the Manor of Ingoldmells , 1291-1569.
Ed. W. O. Massingberd. 1902.

Inquis. Non. Nonarum Inquisitiones . (Record Commission.) 1807.
Inquis. Post Mort. Calendar of Inquisitions Post Mortem and other
analogous Documents preserved in the Public Record Office , Henry
III- . 1904.

Jacob. G. Jacob. New Law Dictionary . 1761.

Jocelin of Brakelond. The Chronicle of Jocelin of Brakelond. Trans.
Sir E. Clarke. 1907.

Kettering Comp. Compotus of the Manor of Kettering , 1292. Ed.
C. Wise. 1899.

Kitchin. J. Kitchin. Le Court Leete et Court Baron . 1587 and 1651.

Kosminsky. E. A. Kosminsky. “The Hundred Rolls of 1279-80.’’

(Economic History Review , vol. in, No. 1.)

— “ Services and Money Rents in the Thirteenth Century.” {Economic
History Review , vol. v, No. 2.)

ABBREVIATIONS AND AUTHORITIES 347

Lane . Assize Rolls. A Calendar of the Lancashire Assize Rolls. Ed.
J. Parker. (Lancashire and Cheshire Record Society, vols. xlvii,
xlix.) 1904.

Land Tenure Reports. Reports from H.M. Representatives respecting the
tenure of land in.. .Europe. 1870.

Law Mag. The Law Magazine and Review. 1830- .

Leet Jurisdiction. F. J. C. Heamshaw. Leet Jurisdiction in England....
(Southampton Record Society, vol. v.) Southampton, 1908.

Letter Books. Calendar of Letter Books of the City of London. Ed. R. R.
Sharpe. 1899- .

Levett. A. E. Levett. The Black Death on the Estates of the See of
Winchester. (Oxford Studies in Social and Legal History, v.)
Oxford, 1916.

Line. Assize Rolls. The earliest Lincolnshire Assize Rolls , 1202-1209. Ed.
Doris M. Stenton. (Lincoln Record Society.) Lincoln, 1926.

Lipson. E. Lipson. The Economic History of England. 5th edition,

1929-

Lit. Cant. Literae Cantuarienses: the letter-books of the monastery of
Christ Churchy Canterbury. Ed. J. B. Sheppard. (Rolls Series.)
1887-9.

Lives of Berkeleys. J. Smyth. The Lives of the Berkeleys. Ed. Sir J.
Maclean. (Bristol and Gloucestershire Archaeological Society.)
Gloucester, 1883-5.

London Plea Rolls. Calendar of Plea and Memoranda Rolls.. .of the
City of London, 1364-1381. Ed. A. H. Thomas. Cambridge,

1929-

Lutlrell Psalter. The Luttrell Psalter , with introduction by E. G. Millar.
1932.

Lyndwood. W. Lyndwood. Provinciale . Oxford, 1679.

Maitland, Coll. Papers. F. W. Maitland. The Collected Papers of
F. W. Maitland . Cambridge, 1911.

Mamecestre. Mamecestre: chapters in the early history of...Manchester.
Ed. J. Harland. (Chetham Society.) Manchester, 1861-2.

Manning. B. L. Manning. The People’s Faith in the time of Wyclif.
Cambridge, 1919.

Manydown. The Manor of Many down. Ed. W. G. Kitchin. (Hampshire
Record Society.) 1895.

Med. Cheshire. H. J. Hewitt. Mediaeval Cheshire. An Economic and
Social History of Cheshire in the Reigns of the three Edwards.
Manchester, 1929.

Med. East Anglia. D. C. Douglas. The Social Structure of Medieval
East Anglia. (Oxford Studies in Social and Legal History, ix.)
Oxford, 1927.

348 ABBREVIATIONS AND AUTHORITIES

Med. Lore. Medieval Lore from Bartholomew Anglicus. R. Steele.
(King’s Classics.) 1905.

Med. Village . G. G. Coulton. The Medieval Village. Cambridge,
1925.

Melsa Chron. Chronica monasterii de Melsa. Ed. E. A. Bond. (Rolls
Series.) 1866-8.

Mon. Exon. G. Oliver. Monasticon dioecesis Exoniensis. Exeter, 1846.
Morris. J. E. Morris. The Welsh Wars of Edward I . Oxford, 1901.

Myrc. J. Myrc. Instructions for Parish Priests . Ed. E. Peacock.
(E.E.T.S. Original Series, 31.) 1868.

Neilson, Ramsey . N. Neilson. Economic Conditions of the manors of
Ramsey Abbey. Philadelphia, 1898.

Norf. Antiq. Misc. The Norfolk Antiquarian Miscellany . Ed. W. Rye.
Norwich, 1873-87.

Norf. Arch. Norfolk and Norwich Archaeological Society. Journal of.
Norwich, 1847- .

North. Assize. Assize Rolls for the County of Northumberland. Ed.
W. Page. (Surtees Society.) Durham, 1891.

Northants. Rec. Soc. Northamptonshire Record Society. Publications.
Kettering, 1926- .

Norwich Records. Records of the City of Norwich. Ed. W. Hudson and
J. C. Tingey. 1906.

Obed. Rolls S. Swithirt. Compotus Rolls of the Obedientiaries of
S. Swithun 9 s Priory , Winchester . Ed. G. W. Kitchin. (Hants
Record Society.) 1892.

Old Wardon: Cartulary of the Abbey of Old Wardon. Ed. G.* H.*
Fowler. (Bedfordshire Historical Record Society, vol. xm.) 1930.

Owst. G. R. Owst. Literature and Pulpit in Medieval England.
Cambridge, 1933.

Oxford Hist. Soc. Oxford Historical Society. Publications . Oxford,
1885- .

P.Q.W. Pladta de Quo Warranto. Ed. W. Illingworth. (Record
Commission.) 1818.

Page. T. W. Page. The End of Villainage in England. (Publications of the
American Economic Association, Third Series, vol. I, No. 2.)
New York, 1900.

Paroch. Antiq. W. Kennett. Parochial Antiquities attempted in the
history of Ambrosden, Burcester (Bicester), etc. Oxford, 1818.

Pecock's Reule. R. Pecock. The Reule of Crysten Religioun . Ed. W. C.
Greet. (E.E.T.S. Original Series, 171.) 1927.

Pemb. Survey . Survey of the Lands of William , First Earl of Pembroke .
Ed. C. R. Straton. (Roxburghe Club.) Oxford, 1909.

ABBREVIATIONS AND AUTHORITIES 349

Piers Plowman . W. Langland. The Vision of William concerning Piers the
Plowman. Ed. W. W. Skeat. Oxford, 1886.

Pollock and Maitland. Sir F. Pollock and F. W. Maitland. The History
of English Law before the time of Edward I. 2nd edition, Cambridge,
1898.

Powell. E. Powell. The Rising in East Anglia in 1381. Cambridge,
1896.

Prompt. Pare. Promptorium Parvulorum sive Clericorum. Ed. A. Way.
(Camden Society.) 1865.

Ramsey Cart. Cartularium Monasterii de Rameseia . Ed. W. H. Hart
and P. A. Lyons. (Rolls Series.) 1884-93.

Ramsey Rolls. Court Rolls of the Abbey of Ramsey and of the Honor
of Clare. Ed. W. O. Ault. (Yale Historical Publications, 9.) New
Haven, 1928.

Reg. Grand. The Register of John de Grandisson , 1327-69. Ed. F. C.

Hingeston-Randolph. London and Exeter, 1894-9.

Reg. Malm. Registrum Malmesburiense. Ed. J. S. Brewer. (Rolls
Series.) 1879-80.

Reg. Pontissara. Registrum Johannis de Pontissara (Diocesis Wyntoni-
ensis). Ed. C. Deedes. (Canterbury and York Society.) Oxford,
1913-24.

Reg. Roff. Registrum Roffense ... illustrating the history of the diocese and
cathedral of Rochester. Ed. J. Thorpe. 1769.

Reynolds’ Reg. The Register of Walter Reynolds , Bishop of Worcester ,
1308-1313. Ed. R. A. Wilson. (Dugdale Society, ix.) Oxford, 1928.
Rogers, Prices. J. E. T. Rogers. History of Agriadture and Prices in
England , 1259-1400. 1866.

— Wages. J. E. T. Rogers. Six Centuries of Work and Wages. 1890.
m Rossendale. G. H. Tupling. An Economic History of Rossendale. 1927.
Rotherfield . Catherine Pullein. Rotherfield , the story of some Wealden
Manors. Tunbridge Wells, 1928.

Rot. Hund. Hundredorum Rotuli {Temp. Henry III and Edward 2).
(Record Commission.) 1812-18.

Rot. Pari. Rotuli Parliamentorum, 1278-1503. (Record Commission.)
1767- .

Savine. A. Savine. English Monasteries on the Eve of the Dissolution.

(Oxford Studies in Social and Legal History, 1.) Oxford, 1909.
S6e. H. S6e. Les Classes Rurales et le Regime Domanial en France au
Moyen Age. Paris, 1901.

Seebohm. F. Seebohm. The English Village Community . 1890.

Selden Society. Select Pleas in Manorial Courts. Ed. F. W. Maitland.
Vol. 11.

The Court Baron. Ed. F. W. Maitland. Vol. iv.

Select Coroner’s Rolls. Ed. C. Gross. Vol. ix.

Select Pleas of the Forest. Ed. G. J. Turner. Vol. xiii.

350 ABBREVIATIONS AND AUTHORITIES

Som. Arch. Soc. Somersetshire Archaeological and Natural History-
Society.; Proceedings . Taunton, 1851- .

Som. Rec. Soc. Somerset Record Society. Publications. 1887- .
South Wales . W. Rees. South Wales and the March, 1284-1415.
Oxford, 1934.

Stapled on's Reg. The Register of Walter de Stapledon , Bishop of Exeter,
1307-1326. Ed. F. C. Hingeston-Randolph. London and Exeter,
1892.

State Trials . Trials, 1809-28.

Statutes of the Realm . Statutes of the Realm , vol. 1. (Record Commis¬
sion.) 1810.

Stenton. F. M. Stenton. Documents illustrative of the Social and
Economic History of the Danelaw . (Records of the Social and
Economic History of England and Wales, vol. v.) Oxford, 1920.

Suff. Inst. Arch. Suffolk Institute of Archaeology and Natural
History. Proceedings . Lowestoft, 1849- ,

Suss. Arch. Soc. Sussex Archaeological Society. 1848-.

Suss. Rec. Soc. Sussex Record Society. Publications . 1902- .
Swinburne. H. Swinburne. A briefe treatise of Testaments and Last
Wills . 1640.

Tatenhill. History of Parish of Tatenhill, Stafford. Ed. R. A. Hardy.
1907-8.

Templars Records. Records of the Templars in England in the Twelfth
Century. Ed. B. A. Lees. (Records of the Social and Economic
History of England and Wales, vol. ix.) Oxford, 1935.

Terrier of Fleet. A Terrier of Fleet, Lincolnshire. Ed. N. Neilson.
(Records of the Social and Economic History of England, ancj
Wales, vol. iv.) Oxford, 1920.

Thatcham. S. Barfield. Thatcham, Berks, and its Manors. 1901.
Thoresby Soc. Thoresby Society. Publications. Leeds, 1889- .
Tooting Bee Rolls. Court Rolls of Tooting Bee Manor. Ed. G. L. Gomme.
1909.

Towneley Plays. The Towneley Plays. Ed. G. England and A. W.

Pollard. (E.E.T.S. Extra Series, lxxi.) 1897.

Trigg Minor. J. Maclean. The parochial and family history of the
deanery of Trigg Minor. 1873-79.

Tusser. Thomas Tusser. His Farming in East Anglia. Ed. D. Hartley. 1931.
Vale Royal. The Ledger-Book of Vale Royal Abbey. Ed. J. Brownhill.

(Lancashire and Cheshire Record Society, vol. lxviii.) 1914.
Villainage. P. Vinogradoff. Villainage in England. Oxford, 1891.
Wakefield Rolls. Court Rolls of the Manor of Wakefield, 1274- . Ed.
W. P. Baildon, etc. (Yorkshire Archaeological Society Record
Series, xxix, xxxvi, lvii, lxxviii.) 1901- *

ABBREVIATIONS AND AUTHORITIES 351

Walter of Henley. Walter of Henley’s Husbandry , together with an
anonymous Husbandry , Seneschaucie , etc. Ed. E. Lamond. (Royal
Historical Society.) 1890.

Whitaker, Whalley. T. D. Whitaker. The history of the parish of
Whalley. 1872-6.

Whitby Cart. Cartularium abbathiae de Whitby. (Surtees Society.)
Durham, 1879-81.

Wilkins, Concilia. D. Wilkins. Concilia Magnae Britanniae et Hiberniae.
1737 *

Wilts Arch. Mag. The Wiltshire Archaeological and Natural History
Magazine. Devizes, 1854- .

Winton Pipe Roll. Winchester , Pipe Roll of the Exchequer of the See of,
1208-9. Ed. H. Hall. (Studies in Economics and Political Science.)
1903.

Wm. Salt Soc. The William Salt Archaeological Society. Publications.
Birmingham, 1880- .

Wore. Hist. Soc. Worcestershire Historical Society. Publications.
1893- .

Wore. Priory Reg. Registrum...prioratus beatae Mariae Wigorniensis.

Ed. W. H. Hale. (Camden Society.) 1865.

Wroxall Records. Records of Wroxall Abbey. Ed. J. W. Ryland. 1903.
Wykeham’s Reg. Wykeham’s Register (1366-1404). Ed. T. F. Kirby.

(Hampshire Record Society.) 1896-9.

Yeatman. J. P. Yeatman. The feudal history of the county of Derby. 1880.
Yorks Inquis. Yorkshire Inquisitions of the reigns of Henry III and
Edward I. Ed. W. Brown. 1892.

INDEX

No attempt has been made to index the names of individuals or of separate
manors, unless of considerable importance.

Accounts, manorial, 165,175,186 ff.;
arrears in, 190, 192; clergy and,
187, 188; duplicate acquittance
sewn on to, 192; heard yearly, 189;
scribe’s fee for writing, 187;
specimen forms of, 188; value of
manor courts noted in, 219; and
see Auditors

Acquittance, chirograph, 166, 192
Addy, S. O., 227

Agriculture, medieval, Ch. 11, passim ,
Ch. iv, passim ; average yield of
crops, 86 ff.; contemporary opinion
of, 50; co-operation in, 44 ff., 51,
70, 80; festivals connected with,
269; field-systems in, 43, 56;
instruments used in, 237; pre-
Christian ceremonies relating to,
35 ff.; routine of, 260; unprogres¬
sive nature of, 149, 237
Ale, s, 13, 17, hi, 235, 236; assize
of, 23, 211, 218; brewing of, 89,
266, 293; compulsory purchase of,
164, 266; penny-, 13, 234
Ale-house, 11, 14, 24, 124, 186,
" 2&>ff., 274; celebrations at, after

marriage, 264; Langland’s picture
of, 267

Ale-tasters, 156

Ales, 265,266; bride, 264 ff.; church,
265

Alfriston, clergy house at, 225
Allowances to manorial servants, 88,
184, 185; and see Bailiff, Carters,
Hayward, Ploughmen, Reeve, etc.
Alphabet of Tales , 48
Alphabetum Narrationum , 35
Amerciament, 218

Amusements, see Sports and pastimes

Ancient demesne, 206

Animals, the peasants’, 89 ff., 218;

and see Cows, Horses, etc.

Apples, 4, 232
Aquinas, Thomas, 34, 281
Arable lands, 43 ff., 56; and see
Common fields

Archidiaconal courts, 247
Arms, assize of, 119
Articles of the view, see Frank-pledge
Ashdown Forest, 58
Ashley, Sir William, 42, 87,156,182,
235

Assarts, 19,24,44,51 ff., 66, 69,160;
formation of, 52 ff.; licences to, 19,
51, 57; limited privileges attaching
to, 52, 57

Assessment Rolls, 90
Assize of ale, 23, 211, 218

— of Arms, 119

— of bread, 211

Assizes of justices, 173, 198, 310 ff.
Aubrac, mountains of, 238
Auditors, the manorial, 158, 165,
175, 188ff.; discretionary powers
of, 191; give chirograph acquit¬
tance, 166; qualities desirable in,
189; social status of, 190; and see
Accounts

Augustine, St, 35 n.

Ault, W. O., 49, 211

Austria, village life in, 225, 230 n. 1

Averagia , see Carrying services

Bacon, boiled, 18
Bacon, Roger, 35

Bailiff, 100,155 ff.; acquittance given
to, 166; auditors and, 165, 166;
corrupt, 102; duties of, 113,163 ff.,
202; dwelling-place of, 163, 164;
Hospitality provided by, 165; letters
of authorisation produced by, 163;
manages several manors, 162;
manumitted, 282; oppression by,
164, 165; oversees wills,’ 251;
procedure on leaving office, 166;
rewards given to, 163, 164; status
of, not clearly defined, 156, 162;
sworn to fealty, 163
Baker, the village, 136; and see Oven
Ball, John, 137
Ballard, A., 293
Baptism, 29, 334

BL

23

INDEX

354

Barbour, John, 283
Barley, 77 , 87, 89
Battle, Manors of the monks of:
carrying services on, 109; election
of reeve on, 170; harvest meals on,
235; harvest supper given on, 111;
reeve’s salary paid by serfs on, 175,
176

Beadle, 15, 21, 156, 169, 179, 181,
182, 205; duties of, 179, 181, 202

— and hayward confused, 179
Beans, 80, 81, 87, 232, 234
Beds, 161, 233

Belknap, Justice, 240
Bennett, Mr M. K., 86
Bereford, Justice, 301
Berkeley, Maurice II, Lord, 50

— Maurice IV, Lord, 265

— Thomas, Lord, 122
Berkeleys, Lives of tke, 50,122,188,265
Berkhamsted, steward of, 158
Berry Pomeroy, 296

Beveridge, Sir W., 86, 87
Bible, the, 35, 324
Bird-snaring, 93
Bishop, Mr T. A. M., 54
Black Death, the, 219, 308; effect on
condition of peasants, 280; effect
on population, 239, 240
Boniface, Archbishop of Canterbury,
249

“Boon-works” (precariae ), 15 ff.,

83 ff., 106, xio, hi; commuted,
280; dry, 19, in ; wet, 16, 19,111;
and see Works
Borough, see Towns
“Borough English”, 256 and note
Boundary stones, 48, 220
Bracton, 103, 149, 201, 243, 280,
286, 300, 316

Bracton's Note Book quoted, s8 n. 2,
287

Bradwater, Richard, 215 ff.
Brakelond, Jocelin of, 129 n. 1, 305
n. 2

Bread, 17,87 n. 1, 89; assize of, 2x1;
baking of, 135ff-; rye, 184, 235;
rye and wheat ( maslin ), 235;
wasted, 262; wheat, 184, 235; and
see Baker, Oven
Brewing, 180; and see Ale
“Bride ales”, 264 ff.

Bridgetown Pomeroy, 296, 300
Britton, 149, 243, 300, 3x3, 316
Bromyard, 267, 269

Brumpton, Justice, 311
Burton, Manors of the monks of:
borough founded on, 296; revolts
on, 102,170; treatment of serfs on
249 , 30S

Bury St Edmunds, revolt at, 305
By-laws, manorial, 49, 89, 213

Cabbages, 232

Caesarius of Heisterbach, see Heister-
bach

Cam, Miss H. M., 3140. 1
Canon Law, 245, 281, 282, 288
Canterbury, Manors of the Arch¬
bishop of, 54

— Manors of the monks of, 163,192
Capital pledges, 211; and see Frank¬
pledge

Carpenter, the village, 66, 67, 107,
227

Carriage super dorsum , 109
Carrying services, 109, no, 164
Carters, allowances to, 88; salary of,
175

Caterpillars, 36

Chambers, Sir E. K., The Medieval
Stage , 263

Champion, quoted, 137
Charter Rolls, 300
Chase, the, 269 ff.

Chaucer, 135, 226, 247, 33L 33^5
The Canterbury Tales quoted, 135,
167, 234, 239 » 264, 331, 332, 335
Chaucer’s poor parson, 331, 332-5 335,
Cheese, 13, 18, 91, 184, 234, 235
Cherries, 4, 232
Chestnuts, 232
Chevage, 307 ff.

Chichester, Manors of the Bishop
of, 66; agricultural services on,
107; audit of the accounts on, 189;
building operations on, 229; holy-
days not observed on, 1x6, 117;
hospitality demanded from men
on, 143; sick-leave on, 113, 114;
steward’s coming on, x6i
Chickens, 3, 92, 99, 234; at Christ¬
mas, 307; at mills, X35
Children, 7, 18, 185, x86, 237 #•;
arrange for old age of parents, 253,
254; education of, for Holy Orders,
326; “ mixed ” marriages and, 242,
243

Christmas customs, 37, 118, 202,
262 ff., 307

INDEX

355

Christmas game, the, 262
Chroniclers, the, 34
Church, the medieval, Ch. 1, passim ,
Ch. XII, passim ; attitude towards
death, 9, 31, 248, 321; desire for
Holy Orders by peasant and, 288,
289; heretics and, 321; holy-days
and, 6, 13, 106, 114 ff.; immorality
and, 246 ff.; mortuary claims by,
144; serfdom and, 281, 282; tithe
and, 330, 331; wills and, 248 ff.
Church furlongs, the, 329
Church services, “Ales” and the,
265, 266; “Crawling to the

Cross”, 263; games and, 273;
going to, in Langland, 267; holy-
days and, 6ff., 322; in Latin, 9,
323; irreverence during, 10, 11;
peasant’s ignorance of, 9, 10, 323;
peasant’s participation in, 11;
talking during, 11; Vespers, 13,

115

Churches (medieval), Ch. 1, passim ,
Ch. xii, passim ; comparative
safety of, 322; impression made
by, 30, 322; instruction mainly
given in, 323; paintings in, 9, 32,
323, 324; rich and poor in, 8;
seating in, 8, 10; size and beauty
of, 4 , 30 , 322
Church-scot, 31

Churchyards, desecrated by animals,
7 , 333

^Cidsr, 108, 235, 236
* Cirencester, Abbot of, seizure of
horse and com by, 131; seizure of
millstones by, 132
Clearings, see Assarts
Clergy (parish), as agriculturalists,
33, 329, 330; education and

training of, 33, 326, 327; income
of, 16, 327; inefficiency of, 33, 325,
328, 332ff.; immorality of, 160,

332 ff.; important part played by,
331, 335 5 instruction given by, 10,
33, 323; lowly origin of many, 9,
10, 288, 325, 326; poaching by, 93;
preaching by, 10,33,328; “ worldly
offices” and, 187, 188, 329, 330,

333

Clerks, the lord’s, 21, 65, 160, 187 ff.
“Close”, the, 44, 51, 82, 95
“Close, the parson’s”, 329
Cloth, 160

Clothes, the peasant’s, 185, 186

Cob buildings, 227
Cod, 184

Colchester, Red Paper Book of, 135
Commissioners of array, the King’s,
120 ff.

“Common, right of”, 56ff., 89
Common appurtenant, 57
“Common fields”, the, Ch. 11,
passim, 43, 44, 66, 70, 79, 84, 217;
by-laws for, 49, 89, 213 ; composi¬
tion of, 55; conditions on, 49, 51;
consolidation of holdings in, 49 ff.;
co-operation in, 44 ff., 80; diffi¬
culties in working, 46 ff.; privileges
of holders in the, 52, 57; sub¬
division of, 46; and see Selions
Commons, the, 31, 56 ff., 213, 217;

and see Inter-commoning
Community rights, 55, 56
Commutation of works and services,
68, 72, 103, 105, 183, 278 ff.,
280 n. 1; partial nature of, 284,
285; uncertain progress of, 280
Compoti , see Accounts
Compurgation, 212, 216
Conquest, the Norman, 72, 100, 239
Conscription of peasants, see Military
service

Cooking utensils, 232 ff.
Co-operation among peasants, 44 ff.,
51, 70, 80

Com, defamed, 218
Coroner, 7, 197, 198, 205 n. 3, 303
Corpus Christi, festival of, 264, 273
Cottages, see Houses
Cottars, 63, 64 n. 1, 184
Coulton, G. G., Social Britain ,
34 n. 2; Ten Medieval Studies ,
330, 331; The Medieval Village ,
43, 45, 139, 245, 269 n. 1, 281 n. 3
Counterpanes, 161
Court baron, 198, 219

— customary, 198

— Leet, 21, 195, 199 , 200, 205, 307

— Rolls, 21 ff., 132, 149, 156, 160,
199, 220, 308; copy of, 221; num¬
bers of, 205; published, 206;
record change of holdings, 251;
record exemptions, 242, 252, 253;
record names of fugitives, 296;
and see Manor Court

“Court of record”, 198, 220, 310,
312

Courts, see King’s Courts, Leet Court,
Manorial Court

23-2

INDEX

356

Coventry Leet Boob, The, 135
Cows, 4, 6, 90, 91; value of, 91
Cr6cy, peasant soldiers at, 1 24
Criminals serve as soldiers, 125
Crofters, 63, 64 n. 1, 65 ff.

Crops, carrying of a neighbour’s, 48,
218

Crowland, Abbot of, 196
— Manors of the monks of: heriot
on the, 148, 149; juries on, 212;
provision for old age on, 254
Crucks, 226

Cunningham, Dr W., 115, 155
Custom, force of, 44,49, 51, 58,178,
242, 252

“Custom of the country”, 116, 118,
242

“Custom of the Manor, the”, 15,
58, 100 ff., 131, 150, 154, 208,
219, 305; fine according to, 219;
tallage according to, 138
Customals, 17, 65, 102, 154, 164,
190, 262, 305; exactness in de¬
fining duties and privileges in,
105, 178; origination of, 101

Dancing, 13, 269; attitude of Church
to, 14, 269; on feast-days, 264,
269 n. 1

Danelegh, the, 41, 42 n. 4
Dartmoor Forest, 58
Death-dues, see Heriot, Mortuary
Deer, 182

Delisle, Leopold, 155
Demesne, the Lord’s, 66, 70, 85,
153, 176; cultivation of, 182, 183;
distribution of, 106, 107; meadows
form part of, 176; peasant’s
animals folded on, 77, 78, 91, 108;
ploughed by serfs, 64, 70, 107;
yield of wheat on, 86, 87
Demons [Devil], belief in, 36, 37, 336
Denton, W., 78, 115
“Devil’s chapel, the”, 267
Ditching, 82

Dives and Pauper quoted, 116
Domestic utensils, 229, 230, 232 ff.
Dominic, St, 36

“Dooms”, the, 100,101,206 ff.; and
see Jury, Manor Court
Douglas, Mr D. C., 42 n. 4, 72
Dovecotes and doves, 93, 94; value
of, 94 n. 2

Drink, of peasants: ale, 5, 13, 17,
m, 235,236; cider, 108,111, 23s,

236; milk, 90, 91; penny-ale, 13,
334

“Dry” boons, 19, hi
D unstable, peasants’ revolts at, 102,
139

Durham, Manors of the Bishop of:
carrying services on the, 109, no,
161; forced hospitality on, 161;
multure on, 133; repairs to mill by
tenants of, 135; steward of, 143,161
Durham Hahnote Rolls , 233, 254

Easter, holidays at, 118, 262, 273
Ecclesiastical courts, 217, 247
Edward I, 120, 123, 124, 297, 298
Edward III, 120, 124
Eels, 95

Eggs, gift of, to lord, 99
Ely, Bishop of, court of, 122
Enfranchisement, see Freedom
Ernie, Lord, 115 n. 4, 229, 230
Essoins, 21, 205, 206, 220; and see
Manor Court

Evans, Joan, Medieval France , 81
n. 5, 82 n. 3

Exeter, Bishop Grandisson of, see
Grandisson

— Synod of (1287), 249
Extents, 65, 69, 71, 149, *54> 164,

190, 278; difficulties of inter¬
preting, 106; nature of, 154
Eynsham, Manors of monks of:
flight from manors of, 308, 309;
reeve excused rent on, 176 • f

Eyre, 173; and see Assizes

Fairs, 77, 173; courts of, 206

— West of England, 160

— Winchester, 160

Fallow, the, 5, 77, 79, 82, 84, 89, gz
Family, the, Ch. ix, passim , 51, 69,
103; arrangements for old age
made by, 253, 254; average num¬
ber of the medieval, 240; death
duties and the, 145 ff.; grain con¬
sumption of, 88; produced to
prove servile status, 312ff.; rate
of increase of, 239, 240
Famine, 237 and n. 2; see also
Plagues

Famuli, 182 ff.; allowances and pay¬
ments to, 184; and see Carters,
Ploughmen, etc.

Farm buildings (atria), 17, 18, 163,
164, 184; repairs to, 107, 108

INDEX

357

Fealty, 22, 163
Feast-days, see Holy-days
fenestralls , 228
Fens, the, 182
Festivals, agricultural, 269
Field-systems, 43, 56
Filberts, 232
Filins nullius , 311
Fire-bote, see Wood
Fish, 234, 235; dried, 235
Fishing, 94, 95, 270
Fishing-rights, 95, 270
Fitzherbert, A., Book of Husbandry
/IS34), 81 n. 1, 83 n. 2
Fitzstephen, 260 ff.

Flail, 85

Flax, 82, 83, 230

Fleta> 155 ff., 166, 300; quoted,
158

Fold, the lord’s, 77, 78, 91, 108
Food (peasants), 5, 6, 12, 13, 24,
i 85, 234 ff., 253; at harvest, 17 ff.,
hi; at Yuletide, 262; and see
Bacon

— carriage of lord’s, 109, no;

demanded by lord’s officers, 143
Ford, Ford Madox, 187
Forest, 51 ff., 269; assarting in, 52,
53; and see Woods and forests
— Court of the, 53
“Forest, Beasts of the”, 94
Forester, 182
forismaritagium , 241, 242
# “ Farmariage”, see forismaritagium
France, scene in mountain village of,
238; village house in, 225, 226;
village life in, 225, 236, 237,
245

Frank-pledge, view of, 158,195, 199,
200, 208, 218; and see Capital
pledges

Free labourers, 65

Free man, acts as manorial official,
157; advantages enjoyed by, 99;
attends Manor Court, 199, 201,
202, 204, 208, 209, 211; bears
arms, 119, 120; by flight, 279;
claim to be a, 309; gives verdicts in
Manor Court, 208, 209; marriage
of, with unfree, 243; pays no
tallage, 140; pays smaller multure,
135; refuses to serve as reeve, 169;
renders week-works, 103; rents
and services of, 154; stranger
settling in a vill is deemed a, 311

“Freebench”, 251, 252
Freedom (peasant’s), Ch. xi, passim;
causes working toward, 277;
methods of gaining, 298, 306 ff.;
states of comparative, 278, 284;
and see Liberty, seisin of. Manu¬
mission, Writs
Freemasons, 302
“Free-warren”, 94
Fruit, 232; and see Apples, Pear trees,
etc.

Funerals, 265; feasting at, 265
Furlongs, 44, 63

Furniture (peasant’s), 6 ff., 12, 13,
232 ff., 238

Gallows, 196 ff.

Garden produce (peasant’s), 4, 5,
232

Gardening (medieval), 232 and note
Gardinum , 232
Garlic, 232

Gavelkind, see “Borough English”
Geese, 92, 234; at mills, 135
gersuma y 251
Gesta Romanorum , 36
gestum, 262

Gilds, admission to, of serfs, 301,
302; despotic nature of, 304
Giraldus Cambrensis on St Hugh of
Lincoln, 147
gtte , see Hospitality
Glanvill, 149, 242, 243, 286, 298
Glastonbury, Manors of the monks
of: ales on the, 266; bailiffs
powers on, 164; feasting at Christ¬
mas on, 262; reeve’s privileges on,
176; scot-ales at, 266; serfs food
at, 262

Glebe lands, 329

Gloucester, Manors of the monks of,
105: accounts on, 187; communal
responsibility of peasants on, 171;
fulstingpound on, 231; harvest
customs on, 112; leave of absence
required on, 306; tallage on, 141
Gloves for harvesting, 84
Goose, 185; and see “Rep-goose”
Gower, J., 247, 328
Grandisson, Bishop of Exeter, 283
Grasses, 77

Gray, H. L., English Field Systems f
43 n* 3 , 72

Great Plague, see Black Death
Gregory die Great, 35 n.

INDEX

358

Halesowen, Manor of: essoins on the,
205, 206; fine for entry onto, 148;
heriot on the, 148 ff.; incontinency
on, 246; military service by
peasants of, 121, 122; suit of mill
owed on, 131

Hallmote, 198, 203, 208; and see
Manor Court
Hanging, see Gallows
Hardy, Thomas, quoted, 3, 227 n. 3
Harrison, W., 228, 233
Harrow, 81, 82
Harrowing, 81, 107
Hartley, Miss D., Life and Work of
the People of England (Fourteenth
Century), 81 n. 2; Thomas Tusscr y
81 n. 2, 82 n. 3

Harvest, 69, 82; customs, noff.;
extra rations at, 17 ff., 105, in;
extra work at, notice of, 1S1; extra
work demanded at, 105, no, in;
festivals associated with, 262; food
at, 235; hay ward and, xy ff., 180;
hours of work at, 104, 105; mis¬
demeanours at, 22, 112, 113;

overseers at, 64, 177, 180, 181;
reeve and, 177; whole family works
at, 15, 83, 104, no, in; works
last to be commuted, 280
Hastings, Rape of, 121
Haye-bote, see Wood
Hayward, 15, 21, 55, 113, 178ff.;
bribed to excuse military service,
122; and beadle confused, 179;
dishonest, 180, 181; duties of,
179ff.; election of, 180; rewards
of, 180

Hayward’s horn, 17 ff.

Headlands, 44

Heamshaw, Prof. F. J. C., 205,
210 n. 1

Hedges, 44, 82; absence of, 5
Heisterbach, Caesarius of, Dialogus
Miraculorum, 36, 48
Hell, pictures of, on church walls, 9,
33 , 334
Hemp, 82, 83

Henley, Walter of, 79, 81, 86, 90, 91,
92,113,117,155,166,189,190,279
Henry II, 285
Herbs, 232

Hereford, visitation of, 1397, 332 ff.
kergeat, see Heriot

Heriot, 31, 101, 102, 143 ff., 188,
35 i) 393, 294; heriot and “relief”

confused, 148, 149; income arising
from, 147; intricate problems con¬
cerning, 149; not claimed, 146,
147; oppressive nature of, 145,
146; theory of, 143, 144
Herle, Justice, 309
Herrings, 184, 235
Hewitt, Mr H, J., 53, 54
Higham Ferrers, manor of, 303:
borough founded on, 294; doves
at, 94; rabbits at, 93
Hired labourers, see Famuli
Hock Day, 269

Holy-days, 6, 9, 13, 106, 114#., 204;
number of, allowed to peasant,

117, 118; observance of,

334

Holy Orders, 288, 289
Holy-water carrier, 9, 326
“Hook or by crook, By”, 59, 131
Hopper, 80
Horses, 90
Hortus , 232

Hosehonderie quoted, 87, 88 n. 1, 90,
92, 171

Hospitality, forced, given to lord,
142, 143, 161; on manors, 165
Hous-bote, see Wood
Household furniture, see Furniture
— goods, 145 ff.

Houses, Ch. ix, passim; animals in,
225, 226, 239; chimneys in, 228;
construction of, 67, 226ff.; con¬
temporary pictures of, 231; fragile r
nature of, 22, 227, 230; interior of,
232, 238; repair of, 230; size of,
253; ventilation of, 228
How to hold Pleas and Courts ,
204

Hudson, Mr W., 104 n. 2, 105,

119 n. 3, 296
Hull, 141

Hundred Court, the, 173, 199
Hundred Rolls , The y 143, 184;

oppression by bailiffs in, 165
Hunting, 93, 94

Incontinency, 217; and see Leyrwite
Indenture system for soldiers, 125
infangenethefy 196, 198
Inn, see Ale-house
Inning, see Assarts
Innocent III, 245
Inquisitio Nonarum , 184
Inter-commoning, 58, 59

INDEX

Inventories, of livestock, 188; pea¬
sant, 233

Itinerant justices, 310, 311

Jolliffe, Prof. J. E., 72
joyeux av&nement , 142
Jurisdiction, manorial, Ch. vm,
passim

Jury, manorial, 206 ff.; selection of,
210; status of, 211

Jury of inquisition, 210, 212, 213;
duties of, 212, 213, 214; number
serving on, 212
Jury of presentment, 210, 211
Jusfaldae, see Fold
Jus viduae , 252

Kent, “Borough English” in, 256
King’s Courts, 196 ff.; villein in, 64,
308 ff.

Kingston-on-Hull, 303
Knighthood, 290, 219 n.

Kosminsky, Prof. E. A., 41, 67, 72,
280 n. 1

Labour (manual), see Holy-days,
Works

Lammas lands, 55; and see Meadows
Langland, William, 33,116,235,326;
Piers Plowman quoted or referred
to, 14, 33, 45, 48, 80 n. 5, 96, 115,
124, 228, 232, 234, 267, 289
Langton, Archbishop Stephen, 325
* Last Judgment, the, 9, 31, 324
Lay Folks' Mass Book , The , 32
Leeks, 232

Lees, Miss B. A., 130
Leet Court, see Court Leet
Leges Henrici, 243

Lennard, Mr R., 78 n. 2, 84 n. 4,

87

Letters and writs, carrying of, 70, 71
Levett, Miss A. E., 106, 280
Lex Maneriorum, 218
Leyrwite , 217, 246 ff.

Liberty, Law is favourable to, 309,

— seisin of, 298, 300, 303, 309
Light-scot, 31
Lincoln, 299

Lipson, Mr E., 65, 280 n. 1
Livestock, inventories of, 188
London, freedom of, 300, 301
Lord, power of the manorial, 100 ff.,
150, 305

359,

“Lot-meadows”, 55; and see Mea¬
dows

“ Love-boon ”, see “ Boon-works ”
Lundenarii , 64 n. 1
Luttrell Psalter, illustrations in the,
81, 81 n. 3, 82, 83 n. 2, 84, 84 n. 2,
92 n. 1

Lyndwood, Bishop, 116, 118; Pro-
vinciale quoted, 116

“Mad sheep”, 19, in, 268
Mainmorte y see Heriot, Mortuary
Maitland, F. W., 42, 94 n. 3, 206 ff.,
246, 294, 325; The Court Baron ,
137

Mallets, wooden, 82
Malt, 160, 184

Manning, B. L., The People's Faith
in the Time of Wyclif 34, 324
Mannyng of Brunne, Robert, Hand -
lyng Synne y 45, 273
Manor, farmed, 284
Manor Court: adjourned through
paucity of suitors, 208; advocates
in, 221; attendance at, excuses
work, 114, 115; beadle and, 181;
behaviour in, 214, 215; business
transacted at, 20 ff., 49, 217 ff.;
chevage paid at, 307, 308; clerk
of, 205; delay in, 220; demands
return of fugitives, 279; develop¬
ment of jury system in, 209, 210;
“dooms” in, 100, 101, 206ff.;
essoins in, 21, 205, 206, 220; fines
in, 130, 131; freeman in, 199, 201,
202, 204, 208, 209, 211; frequency
of, 200; guides to the holding
of, 205, 206; hayward and, 180;
judgments in, 206 ff.; jury of, 64,
174, 218, mixed nature of, 211,
neglect orders, 214, packed, 214,
select class form, 211, selection of,
210, status of, 211; non-attendance
at, 203 ff.; not a Court of Record,
220; powerlessness of, 219, 220;
powers of, 195, 210; precedents
for use in, 270; priests before, 330;
profits from, 214, 218, 219; record
of the, 213; secrecy of jury de¬
liberations in, 214; status in, 64,
199, 201; summons to, 201 ff.;
technicalities in, 219; uncertainty
of action of, 220; value of, 218,
219; verdict given by freemen in,
208, by serfs in, 208

INDEX

360

Manorial administration and organi¬
sation, Ch. vn passim, 65
Manorial jurisdiction, types of, 198,

199 .

Manorial officers, Ch. vii, passim ;
and see Bailiff, Beadle, Hayward,
Reeve, Sergeant, Steward
Manorial population, Ch. in, passim
Manorial servants, 69, 103, 112,177,
184 ff.; corn allowances to, 88; and
see Carters, Ploughmen, etc.
Manorial system, 99, 100
Manorial treatises, 155 ff.

Manors, continuous struggle on the,
100, 101; variation of custom on
individual, 156, 176
Mansfield, Sir Gerald de, 134
Manuals of etiquette, 237
Manumission, 16, 278, 282 ff.; char¬
ters of, 282, 283; conditional, 285,
286; constructive, 286 ff.; for
orders, 288 ff.; law concerning,
286 ff.; payments for, 282 ff., 289;
and see Freedom
Manure, 77 ff., 84, 108
Map, Walter, 288
Market, town, 292 ff.

Marl, 78, 84

Marlborough, Statute of (1267), 201,
202

Marriage, 8, 51, 240ff.; celebrations
at, 264; compulsory, 244, 245;
fines for, 99, 240 ff., 278, 294,
295 n. 2; inheritance and, 243;
kinsfolk and, 245; “mixed”, 242,
243, 287; re-marriage of widows,
243, 255; right of, bought by serfs,
242

“Marrows”, 16, 45
Martham, manor of, 50, 142, 184,
185

Marvell, A., The Coy Mistress , 31
maslin, see Bread

Mass, the, 32, 33, 36, 323, 324,
328 ff.; attendance at, 115, 322;
clergy’s ignorance of, 328; neglect
of, 332; superstition arising from,
36

Mass bell, 322

Mass, Canon of the, 325, 328
Mass clock, 6, 12
Mass penny, 31, 250
May Day, 35, 264, 273
Meadows, 5, 43, 55, 56, 82, 176;
held in common, 55

Meals, 236 ff.

Meat, 235

Meaux, peasants’ revolts at, 102
“medkniche”, 112
Medlars, 232

Meopham, Simon, Archbishop of
Canterbury, 116

Merchet, 99, 240 ff., 278, 294, 295
n. 2; and see Marriage
Merton, Statute of (1235), 57
Messor, see Hayward
Middleton, Richard, 139
Midsummer Watch, the, 35, 263,
269

Military service, n8ff., 144, 293;

peasants forced to render, 118 ff.
Milk, 90, 91
— sheep’s, 91

Miller, the village, 67; character
of, 135; extortion of, 133; over¬
worked, 131, 132
Millet, J. F., 30

Mills, Ch. vi, passim , 60, 293; farmed
out, 129; hand-, 131 ff.; numbers
of, 129, 130; pond of, 133; profits
on, 130, 130 n. 1; stones for, 173;
structure and working of, 134;
tenants obliged to grind at lord’s
mill, 130 ff., to repair lord’s mill,
?34> 135; windmills, 129 n. 1
Ministers’ Accounts, 139, 140, 155,
167; described, 186 ff.; and see
Auditors

Miracle-plays, 11, 12, 274 r *
Money payments by serf, 99, 102,
103

Moots, moot-halls, 203
More, Sir Thomas, The Four Last
Things, 31

Morris, Dr J. E., The Welsh Wars of
Edward /, 120, 123, 124
Morte D*Arthur, 290
Mortmain, see Heriot, Mortuary
Mortuary, 30, 144 ff., 250; oppres¬
sive nature of, 145 ; theory of, 144,
145

Multure ( Multurd ), 133
Mum and the Sothsegger quoted, 25,
26

Mummers’ play, the, 263
Murder, 218
Murrain, 91, 186
Mustard, 232
Muster Rolls, 121
Musters, 122, 124

INDEX

Myrc, Instructions for Parish Priests ,
30, 203, 322

Neilson, Miss N., A Terrier of Fleet,
58; Customary Rents , 99, 169; The
Bilsington Cartulary , 54
Nelson, W., Lea: Maneriorum, , 218
New Forest, 58

Newcastle-on-Tyne, conditions of
becoming a citizen of, 299; ex¬
tension of borough of, 296, 297
Nicholas, Chaucer's, 274
Northampton, 299
Northumbrian manors, 42 n. 4
Norwich, 184; status of serf gaining
freedom in, 302; “ foreigners ” in,
296

Nun's Priest's Tale , quoted, 234

Oatcake, 13
Oats, 87, 89, 104
Onions, 232
outfangenethefy 196
Oven, the lord's, 135 ff., 293, 295 n.
2; fines for not using, 136; rented
to peasants, 135, 136; repairs to,
136; scene at, 137; value of, 136
Owst, Dr G. R., 267, 269 n. 1
Oxen, 90, 91; price of, 91
Oxherd, the lord's, 182, 183
Ox-shed, 160

Pagan rites and customs, 35 ff., 262
m Pag*, Dr F. M., 212, 254
Pampadene (Pandon), 296, 297, 303
Parchment, 187
Paris, Simon de, 301
Parish clerk, the, 8; and see Holy-
water carrier

Parlement of the Tkre Ages , The ,
quoted, 270 ff.

Parsley, 232
Paston, Sir W., 290
Poston Letters, The , 237
Pasture, common of, 57; the lord’s,
183 *

Peak, Forest of the, 52, 53
Pear trees, 232
Peas, 80, 81, 87, 232, 234
Peasant, circumscribed world of, 34,
118, 119; depressed status of, 72;
immobility of, 109, no, 305;
knighthood and the, 290, 29m.;
learning and the, 9, 22, 288ff,;
resources of the, Ch. rv, passim ;

361

revolts of, 170, 277; standard of
living of, 234 ff.

Peasants' Revolt, the, 277
Peckham, Archbishop, 33, 325, 328
Pecock, Bishop, 187
Pembroke, William, first earl of, 231
Penance by serfs, 247, 248
Pepys, 237
Peter's pence, 31

Pierce the Ploughman's Crede, 185,
186

Pigs, 4, 12, 92; price of, 92; vilified
(vilipendelant ), 218
Pike, L. O., 240

Plagues, 239; and see Black Death,
the, Famine
Plough Monday, 269
Plough teams, 64, 80, 107, 284
Ploughings, communal, 66, 80, 107
Ploughmen, the lord's, 182; allow¬
ances to, 88, 183; holdings allo¬
cated to, 183; salary of, 175
Poaching, 24, 93 ff., 236, 269 ff.
Pollock, F. and Maitland, F. W.,
History of English Law , quoted,
144, 282, 286, 299
Poor Man's Bible, the, 9, 32, 324
Poore, Bishop, 264
Population of England in Middle
Ages, 239, 240
Porridge, oatmeal, 234
Pottage, 12, 13, 18, 89, in, 184,
235

Pound, the village, 23
Power, Prof. Eileen, 90 n. 2, 280 n. 1
Preachers, itinerant, 29, 35
Preaching by medieval clergy, 10,
33, 328

Priesthood, the medieval, see Clergy
“Principal”, see Mortuary
Prisoners, guarding of, 70
Prisons, 70

Promptorium Parvulorum, 45
Purpresture, 53
Pytel, 63, 64

Quinces, 232

Quo Warranto proceedings, 195

Rabbits, 93, 94, 236, 269
Ramsey, Manors of the monks of:
carrying services on, 109; harvest
rewards on, in, 112; heriot on
the, 148, 149; holy-days not ob¬
served on, 117; incontinency on.

INDEX

362

246, 247; jury on, 206, 212; mills
and milling conditions on, 130 ff.;
scythale on, 268; sedge cut for
thatch on, 228; sick-leave on, 113,
114; stewards of, 157, 158; wills
on, 251

Rebinatium , see “ Second-stirring”
redemptio , 241, 242
Reeds for thatch, 228
Reeve, 15, 21, 155 ff., 166ff.; ac¬
cused in Manor Court, 174; ac¬
quittance given to, 192; arrears
of, 190, 192; attends Assizes and
Hundred Court, 173; auditors
and, 167, 175, 186 ff.; compulsory
election as, 170; controls work of
serfs, 174; dishonesty of, 174;
duties of, 172 ff.; election of,
169 ff.; excused rent, 176; excused
works, 177; finds sureties, 192;
forgiven shortcomings, 191; lands
elected to office of, 171, 172; leads
rebel serfs, 173; length of service
as, 167, 168, 178; payments to
avoid serving as, 171; “pivot
man” of manor, 168; rewards of,
158, 175 ff.; seizes land for lord,
146; servile origin of, 166 ff.;
tallies and the, 191; week-works
and, 106, 174, 177; wills and, 251
Rentals, see Extents
Rents and Services, Ch. v, passim;
and see Works

“Rents of assize”, 141, 141 n. 8, 188
“Rep-goose”, 185 n. 1
Revesby Abbey, 285
Richard II, 289
Richardson, Mr H. G., 327
“ Right of Common”, see “ Common,
right of”

Rochester, Manors of the Bishop of:

death duties on, 146
Rogers, J. E. T., 92; History of Prices,
81 n. 6, 86, 92 n. 2; Six Centuries
of Work and Wages, 234
Romney Marsh, assarting in, 54
Rossendale, 59
Rotation of crops, 77
Rothamsted experiments, 78
Rural dean, 246, 247
Ruridecanal courts, 247, 248
Rushes, 161

“Rustic” as term of reproach, 288
77, 87, 184, 23s
Rypon, Bishop, 267

St Albans, manors of the monks of:
great court of, 203; hand-mills of
peasants of, destroyed, 133; wills
of peasants on, 251; windmill on
property of, 129 n. 1
St Hugh of Lincoln, 147
Saint Paul's, Manors of the Canons
of: carrying services on, 109;
feasting at Christmas on, 262
Saint’s days, see Holy-days
Salmon, 95

Sarum, Visitation of the Dean of
328

Scarborough, enlargement of bo¬
rough of, 296

Schools, 22; serf pays fine to go to,
99

Scotus, Duns, 139
Scythes, 16, 82
“Second-stirring”, 82
Sedge, 85

“Sedge silver”, 228
S<?e, M. Henri, 236, 237
Seebohm, F., 71
Seed-lip, 80, 81

Seisin of liberty, 298, 300, 303,

309

Select Pleas in Manorial Courts
quoted, 206, 207
“Self aid”, 309
Selions (strips), 12, 44, 82, 295
Seneschal, see Steward
Seneschaucie quoted, 83, 179, 189
Senlis, Simon of, 159, 160, 162*
sequela , 240

Sergeant (serviens) of the manor,
155 ff., 162
Sermons, 10, 328

Services, Ch. v, passim , 64, 278 ff.;

and see Carrying services, Works
Shaftesbury, Manors of the Abbess
of, 252
Shallots, 232

Sheep, s, 90 ff, 160, 186; as heriot,
101, 102; folding of, 77
Sheets, x6x, 233

Shepherd, the lord’s, 77, 108, 182,
186 ff.; allowances to, 88, 183
Sheriff, 309 ff.

Sheriff’s tourn, 199
Sickle, 83

Sickness of lord’s tenants, 113 ff.

Skelton, J., 267

Slavery, 299

Smith, the village, 66

INDEX

Smyth, J., Lives of the Berkeley
Family quoted, 50, 122, 188, 190,

191, 265

Soil, alleged exhaustion of, 78, 79
“Somour games”, 264, 273; and see
Sports and pastimes
Sowing, 107

Spigumel, Justice, 197, 198
Sporting chance, the, 20, 112
Sports and pastimes, Ch. x, passim
Squire of Low Degree, The, 290
Standard, Battle of the, 119
Statuta Pistorum, 133
Stenton, Prof. F. M., 72
Steward (Seneschal), 20 ff., 100,
157 ff., 270; accounts and, 189;
advent of, 20,143,161; description
of, in Fleta, 158; duties of, 158 ff.;
emoluments of, 158; oath taken by,
159 n.; presides at Manor Court,

158, 160, 161, 206; qualities of,

159, 160; servants of, i43> 161;
status of, 157,158; warning tenants
of coming of, 70

Stocks, 192

Stonor Letters, The, 237
Stow, John, Survey of London
quoted, 260, 261

Straw, 80, 232; for thatching, 228
Stubble, 85, 229
Stukeley, Sir Joscelin of, 157
— Sir Walter of, 158
Supernatural, appeal to the, 212,
. 21-3

Superstition, 34 ff., 321, 334 *

335

Swineherd, the village, 92, 108
Switzerland, village life in, 225, 228,
237 , 245, 32i
Symbolism, 32, 33, 324

Tables, trestle, 12, 17, 233, 234
Tallage, 138 ff., 278, 279 , 293; ad
voluntatem domini, 138, 139; as¬
sessment of, 141; by force and
oppression, 139, 140; commuted,
141; fixed, 140, 141
Tally, 161, 181, 186, 187, 191
Taxes, on movables, 90; one-
fifteenth, 119

“Teapot Hair’, Lincolnshire, 226
Templars, mills of the, 130
Testament, last, see Wills
Thatch, 227, 228
Thatcher, 228, 229

363

Thatching, 60, 85, 108
Three-field system, 56, 77, 79; and
see Field-systems
Threshing, 85, 104
Timber rights, 230, 231; and see
Wood

Tithe, 30, 84, 84 n. 4, 113, 144, 33°,
33 i

Tithing, 23, 303
— men, 22, 23, 169, 218
Tofts, 65

Tooting Bee, Manor of, heriot on the,
149

Towneley Plays, The , 30
Towns, advantages of, 294ff*; at¬
traction of, to serfs, 277, 278,
291 ff.; buy their freedom, 292 ff.;
“chartered”, 299; citizenship of,
300; created, 297, 298; “for¬
eigners” in, 295, 296, 304; free¬
man of, 300; partially free, 293;
residence in, by serfs, 298 ff.;
rights of privileged classes in, 304
Trades and occupations, 66 ff.
Trulliber, Parson, 31
“Two-field system”, 56, 77; and see
Field-systems

Undermanm, 59, 65 ff., 95; as

manorial servants, 182, 183

Vale Royal, Manors of the Abbey of:
heriot demands by, 101, 102, 146;
mortuary demands by, 146, 250;
wills of serfs invalid on, 250
Valle Dei (Vaudey), 160
“Verge”, the, 21, 221 and n. 1
Vetches, 77

Village, the, 41; size of average
English, 240
“Villein nest”, 301
Vinogradoff, Sir Paul, 65, 71, 100,
138, 139 n., 14a, 156, 166, 203,
221, 240, 286, 314
Virgaters, 89

Visitation of the diocese of Hereford,
248, 332 ff*

Visitation records, 332 ff.; and see
Hereford, Sarum
Visitations, clerical, 327 ff.

Vitry, Jacques de, 150

“Wakes”, see Funerals
Wall paintings, 9, 32, 323, 324
Walnuts, 232

INDEX

364

Walter of Henley, see Henley, Walter
of

War, peasant and, 118 ff., 144, 239
“Warren, beasts of the”, 94
“Waste”, economic importance of,
59. 6o, 93

— the, 43, 54, 56, 58 ff., 93
Wattle-and-daub, 227
Weeds, 23, 82, 83

“Week-work”, 106, 279; com¬

muted, 183; and see Works
Wells, Manors of Dean and Chapter
of, 285, 287; allowances to reeve
on, 176

— Precentor of, 159
Welsh marched, 120, 121, 298
Westminster, Manors of the monks

of, 167

— Second Statute of (128$), 57
“Wet” boons, 16, 19, in
Whalley, district of, 58

Wheat, 77, 83, 86 ff., 184, 235;
bushels sown per acre, 86, 87;
price per quarter, 89; threshing of,
104; yield per acre, 86, 87
Wheelwright, 229
Whitsun, holidays at, 118
Widow, 21, 102; freebench of, 251,
25a; re-marriage of, 243 ff., 255;
rights of, 252; surrender of holding
by, 252; unchastity of, 252, 255
“Will of the lord, the” (1 voluntas
domini ), 100 ff.

Willelmi Articuli Retractati , 299,
300

Wills (citizens), 303

— (peasants), 248 ff.; attitude of
Church to, 249, 250; attitude of
clergy to, 250; attitude of lords to,
249, 251; nuncupative, 249

Winchelsey, Archbishop of Canter-

.

f—'r - ■

Ago. .

I

I ; ' .

1

: f ‘Giaa;.; ;■ ..

Winchester, Manors of the bishop of:
commutation on, 280; election of
reeve on, 170; hospitality on, 165;
week-works on, 106, 114; yield of
corn on, 86

— Statute of (1285), 120, 124

— Synod of (1308), 250
Winchester fair, 160
Wine, 160
Winnowing, 85
Witham, Priory of, 285
Wolsey, Archbishop, 33, 325
“Wonders of the world”, the, 34
Wood, carriage of, no; for house

repairs, 230, 231; importance of
in medieval life, 59, 60, 84, 229 ff.
“Wood-penny”, 99
Woods and forests, 43, 84, 85, 231,
269 ff.

Woodward, 182, 231 *

Wood wright, see Carpenter
Work (peasant’s), controlled by
bailiff or reeve, 164,174; definition
of what constitutes a day’s, 104,
105; dislike of forced, 279;*
excused, 117, 118, 204; exemption
from, 113 ff. ^money value of, 106,
279; and see Boon-work, Com¬
mutation

Works, Ch. V, passim; and see
Carrying services, Commutation
Writs, 308 ff.; de homine replegiando ,

31 o; libertate probanda , 310,312;
de nativo habendo , 309, 312,*314
pone , 309

Wykeham, William-of, 280

Year and a day, 298 ff.

Year Books, quoted, 197, 198
Yield of crops, 86 ff.; on demesne,
86; on peasants’ land, 87
Yule log, 262

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