Superstition and Force / Essays on the Wager of Law, the Wager of Battle, the Ordeal, Torture

by Henry Charles Lea

CONTENTS.

[I.]
THE WAGER OF LAW.
[CHAPTER I.]
RESPONSIBILITY OF THE KINDRED.
	PAGE
Crime originally an offence against individuals	[13]
Tribal organization—Responsibility of kindred	[14]
Compensation for injuries—The Wer-gild	[17]
[CHAPTER II.]
THE OATH AND ITS ACCESSORIES.
Perplexities as to evidence	[21]
Guarantees required for the oath	[25]
[CHAPTER III.]
CONJURATORS, OR PARTAKERS IN THE OATH.
The Wager of Law a prehistoric Aryan custom	[33]
It is adopted by the Church	[35]
[CHAPTER IV.]
SELECTION OF COMPURGATORS.
They are originally the kindred	[38]
Strangers admitted	[41]
Numbers required	[43]
Modes of selection	47
[CHAPTER V.]
CONDITIONS OF COMPURGATION.
Employed in default of testimony	[52]
Except in Wales	[54]
Dependent on importance of case	[56]
As an alternative for the Wager of Battle	[57]
[CHAPTER VI.]
FORMULAS AND PROCEDURE.
Forms of compurgatorial oath	[58]
Modes of administration	[60]
Qualified confidence reposed in Compurgation	[61]
Conjurators liable to penalties of perjury	[63]
[CHAPTER VII.]
DECLINE OF COMPURGATION.
Early efforts to limit or abolish it	[67]
The oath no longer a positive asseveration	[71]
Influence of revival of Roman law	[73]
Conservatism of Feudalism	[76]
Gradual disappearance of Compurgation in Continental Europe	[78]
Preserved in England until 1833	[84]
Traces in the British colonies	[87]
Maintained in the Church and in the Inquisition	[88]
[CHAPTER VIII.]
ACCUSATORIAL CONJURATORS.
Employed by the Barbarians	[94]
Maintained until the sixteenth century	[98]
[II.]
THE WAGER OF BATTLE.
[CHAPTER I.]
Natural tendency to appeal to Heaven	[101]
Distinction between the Judicial Combat and the Duel	103
[CHAPTER II.]
ORIGIN OF THE JUDICIAL COMBAT.
A prehistoric Aryan custom	[107]
[CHAPTER III.]
UNIVERSAL USE OF THE JUDICIAL COMBAT.
Its form Christianized into an appeal to God	[117]
Causes of its general employment	[118]
Practice of challenging witnesses	[120]
of challenging judges	[123]
[CHAPTER IV.]
CONFIDENCE REPOSED IN THE JUDICIAL DUEL.
Its jurisdiction universal	[127]
Implicit faith reposed in it	[135]
[CHAPTER V.]
LIMITATIONS IMPOSED ON THE WAGER OF BATTLE.
Respective rights of plaintiff and defendant	[140]
Minimum limit of value	[147]
Questions of rank	[148]
Liability of women to the Combat	[152]
of ecclesiastics	[155]
The Combat under ecclesiastical jurisdiction	[161]
Not recognized in mercantile law	[165]
[CHAPTER VI.]
REGULATIONS OF THE JUDICIAL COMBAT.
Penalty for defeat	[166]
Lex talionis	[169]
Security required of combatants	[173]
Penalty for default	[174]
Choice of weapons	[176]
[CHAPTER VII.]
CHAMPIONS.
Originally kinsmen	[179]
Employment of champions becomes general	180
Hired champions were originally witnesses	[182]
Punishment for defeated champions	[184]
Professional champions—their disabilities	[186]
Efforts to limit the use of champions	[189]
Champions of communities	[196]
of the Church	[197]
[CHAPTER VIII.]
DECLINE OF THE JUDICIAL COMBAT.
Iceland and Norway the first to prohibit it	[199]
Opposition of the Municipalities	[200]
of the Church	[206]
Influence of the Roman law	[211]
Decline of the Judicial Duel in Spain	[214]
Struggle over its abolition in France	[216]
Reforms of St. Louis	[217]
Resistance of the Feudatories	[218]
Reaction after the death of St. Louis	[222]
Renewed efforts of Philippe le Bel	[222]
Continued by his successors	[227]
Occasional cases in fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries	[228]
Final disappearance	[235]
Its later history in Italy, Hungary, Flanders, Russia, Scotland	[235]
Maintained in England until the nineteenth century	[241]
Traces of its legal existence in the United States	[246]
[III.]
THE ORDEAL.
[CHAPTER I.]
UNIVERSAL INVOCATION OF THE JUDGMENT OF GOD.
Tendency of the human mind to cast its doubts on God	[249]
China an exception	[251]
The Ordeal in Japan	[253]
in Africa	[254]
in the Indian and Pacific Archipelagoes	[257]
among pre-Aryan Indian Tribes	[258]
Traces of the Ordeal in Egypt	259
Among Semitic Races—The Assyrians, Hebrews, Moslem	[260]
Among Aryans—Mazdeism	[265]
Hinduism—Buddhism	[267]
Hellenes and Italiotes	[269]
Celts, Teutons, Slavs	[272]
The Ordeal in the Barbarian occupation of Europe	[275]
Adopted by the Church	[276]
[CHAPTER II.]
ORDEAL OF BOILING WATER.
Details of its administration	[278]
Miracles reversing the ordinary process	[285]
[CHAPTER III.]
ORDEAL OF RED-HOT IRON.
Various forms of its administration	[286]
Examples of its use	[291]
Miracles reversing the ordinary process	[301]
[CHAPTER IV.]
ORDEAL OF FIRE.
Its prototypes	[303]
Examples of its use	[305]
Used to test relics	[314]
[CHAPTER V.]
ORDEAL OF COLD WATER.
Mode of administration	[318]
Supposed origin in ninth century	[320]
Received in general use	[322]
Prolonged employment in witchcraft cases	[325]
Occasionally used in nineteenth century	[332]
[CHAPTER VI.]
ORDEAL OF THE BALANCE.
Modes of administration	[334]
[CHAPTER VII.]
ORDEAL OF THE CROSS.
It is one of endurance	[336]
Its limited use and disappearance	338
[CHAPTER VIII.]
THE CORSNÆD.
Formula of employment	[339]
Examples of its use	[341]
[CHAPTER IX.]
THE EUCHARIST AS AN ORDEAL.
Superstitions connected with the Eucharist	[344]
Examples of its use as an ordeal	[347]
Still used in the seventeenth century	[351]
[CHAPTER X.]
ORDEAL OF THE LOT.
Various modes of its administration	[352]
Appeals to chance—Ordeal of Bible and key	[356]
Sieve-driving	[358]
[CHAPTER XI.]
BIER-RIGHT.
Doubtful origin	[359]
Examples of its use	[361]
It lingers to the present day	[367]
Attempts to explain it	[368]
Weight ascribed to it	[369]
[CHAPTER XII.]
OATHS AS ORDEALS.
Superstitions connected with the oath	[371]
Risks of perjury in oaths on relics	[372]
[CHAPTER XIII.]
POISON ORDEALS.
Used in India, not in Europe	[375]
[CHAPTER XIV.]
IRREGULAR ORDEALS.
Iron bands on murderers	[377]
Examples of miraculous interposition	379
[CHAPTER XV.]
CONDITIONS OF THE ORDEAL.
It is a regular judicial procedure	[383]
Compounding for ordeals	[383]
Ordeal for defeated accuser	[385]
Absence of testimony usually a prerequisite	[386]
Usually a means of defence	[389]
Used in failure of compurgation	[390]
Sometimes regarded as a punishment	[391]
Its use in extorting confessions	[394]
Practically amounts to torture	[395]
Influence of imagination	[396]
Champions in ordeals	[398]
[CHAPTER XVI.]
CONFIDENCE REPOSED IN THE ORDEAL.
Conflicting views as to its efficacy	[399]
Explanations of its unjust results	[401]
Regulations to enforce its impartial administration	[404]
Usually results in acquittal	[406]
Use of magic arts	[407]
[CHAPTER XVII.]
THE CHURCH AND THE ORDEAL.
Complex relations of the Church to the ordeal	[408]
Occasional opposition of the papacy	[409]
But it is sustained by the clergy	[409]
Its use in trials of heretics	[410]
Impressiveness of its ritual	[413]
Reasons of papal opposition	[414]
Advantages derived from it by the clergy	[415]
The popes at length accomplish its abolition	[417]
[CHAPTER XVIII.]
REPRESSIVE SECULAR LEGISLATION.
Forbidden in England in 1219	[420]
Gradually falls into desuetude	[422]
Persistence of superstition	427
[IV.]
TORTURE.
[CHAPTER I.]
TORTURE IN EGYPT AND ASIA.
The ordeal and torture are substitutes for each other	[429]
Torture in Egypt—in Assyria—not used by Hebrews	[430]
Not used by Oriental Aryans	[431]
Not used in China—used in Japan	[431]
[CHAPTER II.]
GREECE AND ROME.
Usages of torture in Greece	[432]
Rome—freemen not liable under Republic	[434]
Cæsarism extends the use of torture	[435]
Limited by Inscription and the Lex Talionis	[439]
Torture of witnesses	[440]
Liability of slaves to torture	[441]
Limitations on use of torture	[444]
Value of evidence under torture	[446]
[CHAPTER III.]
THE BARBARIANS.
Structure of Barbarian society	[449]
Freemen originally not liable—torture of slaves	[451]
Illegal torture of freemen by the Merovingians	[454]
[CHAPTER IV.]
THE GOTHS AND SPAIN.
Influence of Roman institutions on the Goths	[456]
Torture under the Ostrogoths	[457]
Employed by the Wisigoths—details of its use	[458]
Transmitted by them to modern Spain	[461]
Legislation of Las Siete Partidas	[462]
Final shape of torture system in Castile	466
[CHAPTER V.]
CARLOVINGIAN AND FEUDAL LAW.
Torture first used for witchcraft, under Charlemagne	[469]
The Church averse to it	[471]
Character of institutions adverse to its use	[471]
Feudalism not favorable to it	[472]
Torture used for punishment and extortion	[473]
Ecclesiastical influence adverse to its use	[477]
[CHAPTER VI.]
REAPPEARANCE OF TORTURE.
Influence of the Roman law	[479]
Torture first appears in Latin kingdom of Jerusalem	[480]
It is revived in Italy in the thirteenth century	[481]
Influence of the Inquisition	[483]
First appearance of torture in France, in 1254	[487]
Its gradual introduction—1283 to 1319	[491]
Resistance of the nobles in 1315	[494]
Permanently established in opposition to Feudalism	[497]
Examples of procedure in the Châtelet of Paris, 1389-1392	[500]
Introduction in Germany	[505]
in Italy	[506]
in Hungary—Poland—Russia	[508]
in the ecclesiastical courts	[510]
[CHAPTER VII.]
THE INQUISITORIAL PROCESS.
Secret proceedings and denial of opportunity for defence	[512]
Perfected by Francis I.	[514]
Revised under Louis XIV.	[517]
Torture avec réserve des preuves	[518]
Illegal extension of the system in the Netherlands	[521]
Germany—the Caroline Constitutions	[522]
[CHAPTER VIII.]
FINAL SHAPE OF THE TORTURE SYSTEM.
The Roman Law engrafted on German Jurisprudence	[524]
Theoretical exemptions practically annulled	[525]
Limitations disregarded in practice	527
Influence of the system on the judge	[534]
Arbitrary abuses	[539]
Torture of witnesses	[541]
Grades of torture	[543]
Denial of opportunities for defence	[544]
Confirmation of confession necessary	[548]
Inconsistencies in the torture system	[550]
Influence of witch-trials in aggravating the torture system	[553]
Use of charms to produce insensibility	[556]
Deceit used in failure of torture	[558]
Torture in monasteries	[560]
[CHAPTER IX.]
ENGLAND AND THE NORTHERN RACES.
Early use of torture in Iceland	[561]
Influence of the jury-trial in delaying introduction of Torture in Denmark,Norway, and Sweden	[562]
England—Torture unknown to the Common Law	[563]
Introduced as a concession to the royal prerogative	[566]
Influence of witch-trials	[570]
Scotland—frightful severity of torture trials	[572]
[CHAPTER X.]
DECLINE OF THE TORTURE SYSTEM.
Opponents arise—Vives, Montaigne, Gräfe, etc.—Discussion in theschools	[575]
Abolished in Prussia in 1740	[579]
in Saxony, Austria, Russia	[580]
Continued in Baden till 1831—Retention of the Inquisitorial Process,and Revival of Torture in the German Empire	[581]
Abolished in Spain in 1812	[582]
in France, 1780-1789	[583]
in Italy in 1786	[586]
Retained in Naples	[587]
Recent instances of its use	[588]

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[I.]
THE WAGER OF LAW.

[CHAPTER I.]
RESPONSIBILITY OF THE KINDRED.

The conception of crime as a wrong committed against society is too abstract to find expression in the institutions of uncivilized communities. The slayer or the spoiler is an enemy, not of his fellows in general, but only of the sufferer or of his kindred; and if society can provide means for the wronged to exact reparation, it has done its duty to the utmost, and has, indeed, made a notable advance on the path that leads from barbarism to civilization. How recent has been our progress beyond this stage of development is illustrated in the provisions of a code granted so lately as 1231 by the Abbey of St. Bertin to the town of Arques. By these laws, when a man was convicted of intentional homicide, he was handed over to the family of the murdered person, to be slain by them in turn.[1] It still was vengeance, and not justice, that was to be satisfied.

In early times, therefore, the wrong-doer owed no satisfaction to the law or to the state, but only to the injured party. That injured party, moreover, was not a mere individual. All the races of the great Aryan branch of mankind have developed through a common plan of organization, in which each family—sometimes merely the circle of near kindred, at others enlarged into a gens or sept—was a unit with respect to the other similar aggregations in the tribe or nation, presenting, with respect to personal rights, features analogous to their communal holding of land.[2] Within these units, as a general rule, each individual was personally answerable for all, and all were answerable for each. A characteristic incident of this system was the wer-gild or blood-money, through which offences were condoned and the aggrieved were satisfied by a payment made, when the crime was homicide, to the kindred of the slain, and generally contributed by the kindred of the slayer.

The fragments of the Avesta are the earliest records of Aryan legislation that have reached us, and in them we find distinctly marked evidence of this common responsibility of the kindred.[3] Among the Hindus, the ancient code, known as the Manava Dharma Sastra, represents a highly complex social organization, in which primitive institutions have been completely overlaid by the later and antagonistic elements of caste and Brahmanism, but yet it reveals the existence of village communities which were a direct development of the primal system of the family;[4] and the ancient solidarity of these communities is shown in the provision that if a murder or robbery could not be traced, the village in which it occurred was obliged to make it good, or that to which the track of the offender could be followed.[5] In the adventures of the Kauravas and Pandavas, moreover, the Mahabharata preserves fragments of traditions conveying some indications of a pre-existing solidarity among kindred.[6] Much more clearly defined were the Hellenic organizations of the patræ and phratriæ; while the institution of the wer-gild is seen in the wages earned by Heracles in serving Omphale, to be paid to the kinsmen of the murdered Iphitus; and its existence can be traced to historic times in the payments provided by the Trallian laws to the families of the subject Leleges and Minyans who might be slain. Sir Henry Maine has acutely suggested, also, that the belief in an hereditary curse, which plays so awful a part in Grecian legend, is derived from the primal idea of the solidarity of the family group.[7] In Rome, notwithstanding the powerful Latin tendency to absorb all minor subdivisions into the state, the institution of the gens, and the relationship between the patron and his clients, bear striking analogies to the organizations which we find among the Teutonic tribes as they emerge into history; while the fine imposed on the elder Horatius, to expiate for his son the crime of slaying his sister, shows a remnant still existing of the wer-gild levied on the relatives.[8] The early legislation of the Celts, both in the Irish and Welsh tribes, as we shall presently see, carried the solidarity of the family to its highest point of development. The same institutions form a prominent feature of social organization among the Slavs. The Russian Mir, or communal society, is evidently a development of the original family; while the Ruskaia Prawda, the earliest extant code, promulgated by Yaroslav Vladomirovich in the eleventh century, allows the relatives of a murdered man either to kill the murderer or to accept a wer-gild from him. The district, moreover, in which a homicide occurs is liable to a fine, unless the victim is an unknown stranger: as such, there are none to claim compensation for him, he is outside of all family organization, and the law has no protection for him.[9] In Poland, the laws in force until the close of the fifteenth century provided no other penalty for murder than a wer-gild to be divided among the kindred and friends of the slain; and during the fifteenth century there was only a short term of imprisonment added.[10] Among the southern Slavs the Zadruga takes the place of the Russian Mir, and is a still more absolute and primitive form of family organization.[11]

In obedience to this all-pervading tendency of organization, the barbarian tribes which overthrew the Roman Empire based their institutions on two general principles—the independence of the individual freeman and the solidarity of the family group—and on these were founded their simple forms of jurisprudence. As the criminal was not responsible to the state, but to the injured party, personal punishments were unknown, and the law made no attempt to decree them. All that it could do was to provide rude courts before which a plaintiff could state his case, and a settled tariff of pecuniary compensation to console him for his sufferings.[12] If he disdained this peaceful process, he was at liberty to assemble his kindred and friends, and exact what satisfaction he could with sword and axe. The offender, moreover, could not legitimately refuse to appear when summoned before the mallum, or judicial assembly of the tribe; nor could he, as a rule, claim the right of armed defence, if the complainant preferred to receive the money payment provided for the offence of which he might prove his antagonist guilty.

This wer-gild was in no sense a fine inflicted as a punishment for guilt, but only a compensation to induce the injured party to forego his right of reprisals, and the interest which society felt in it was not in the repression of crime, but in the maintenance of peace by averting the endless warfare of hostile families. An Anglo-Saxon proverb, quoted approvingly in the laws of Edward the Confessor, as collected by William the Conqueror, says: “Bicge spere of side oðer bere”—Buy off the spear from thy side or endure it.[13] The application of the system is to be seen in the minute and complex tariffs of crime which form so large a portion of the barbarian codes. Every attempt against person and property is rated at its appropriate price, from the theft of a sucking pig to the armed occupation of an estate, and from a wound of the little finger to the most atrocious of parricides. To what extent this at last was carried may be seen in the Welsh codes, where every hair of the eyelash is rated at a penny.[14]

This system introduced into legal proceedings a commercial spirit which seems strangely at variance with the savage heroism commonly attributed to our barbarian ancestors. In the translation by Mr. Dasent of the old Icelandic Saga of Burnt Njal is vividly set forth the complex procedure which arose from the development of these principles, whereby suits could be sold and assigned by one party to another, and a plaintiff with a promising claim for damages would part with it to some speculator who undertook the chances of the suit; or, if the prospects were not encouraging, he would pay some shrewd lawyer or mighty warrior to prosecute it in his stead. As either party in the primitive Icelandic code could at any moment interrupt the proceedings with a challenge to single combat, or a powerful pleader might collect his friends for a raid on the Althing, and thus break up the court, this traffic in suits was a speculation well fitted to vary the monotony of a sea-rover’s life on shore.

In the application of this principle of compensation the solidarity of the family bore a part as conspicuous as in the alternative of private warfare. The kindred of the offender were obliged to contribute shares proportionate to their degrees of relationship; while those of the man who was wronged received respective percentages calculated on the same basis. Thus the most ancient Barbarian code that has reached us—that of the Feini, or primitive Irish—in a fanciful quadripartite enumeration of the principles in force in levying fines, alludes to the responsibility of kindred—“And because there are four things for which it is levied: ‘cin’ (one’s own crime), and ‘tobhach’ (the crime of a near kinsman), ‘saighi’ (the crime of a middle kinsman), and the crime of a kinsman in general.”[15] A very complete example of the development of this system is to be found in the Icelandic legislation of the twelfth century, where the fines exacted diminish gradually, as far as the relatives in the fifth degree on both sides, each grade of the criminal’s family paying its rate to the corresponding grade of the sufferer’s kindred.[16] When, however, the next of kin were females, and were thus incompetent to prosecute for murder, the person who undertook that office was rewarded with one-third of the fine.[17] It was not until about 1270 that King Haco, in his unsuccessful attempt to reform these laws, ventured to decree that in cases of murder the blood-money should not be divided among the family of the victim, but should all be paid to the heir.[18] On the other hand, in Denmark, Eric VII., in 1269, relieved the kindred of the murderer from contributing to the wer-gild, although it continued to be divided among the relatives of the slain.[19]

Among the Welsh the provisions for levying and distributing the fines were almost as complex as those of the early Icelandic law, one body of jurisprudence extending the liability even as far as sixth cousins;[20] and perhaps the quaintest expression of the responsibility of the kindred is to be found in the regulation that if any one should draw blood from the abbot of either of the seven great houses of Dyved, the offender should forfeit seven pounds, while a female of his kindred should become a washerwoman in token of disgrace.[21] The firm hold which this practical solidarity of the family had upon the jurisprudence of the European races is shown by a clause in the statutes of the city of Lille, as late as the fourteenth century, where the malefactor had the right to collect from his relatives a portion of the wer-gild which he had incurred; and elaborate tables were drawn up, showing the amount payable by each relative in proportion to his degree of kinship, the liability extending as far as to third cousins.[22] A still more pregnant example of the responsibility of kindred is found in the customs of Aspres, in 1184, where the kindred of a homicide, if they would abjure him by oath on relics, were entitled to the public peace; but, if they refused to do so, it became the duty of the Count of Hainault, the Abbot of St. Vaast, and the relatives of the slain, to hunt them down, and seize all their property.[23]

The introduction of Christianity, with the all-pervading sacerdotalism of the church, rendered necessary an innovation on the primeval form of social organization, for ecclesiastical ties dissolved those of the family. By the Carlovingian legislation, when a priest was slain his wer-gild was paid to the church, which was held to be nearer to him than any relative,[24] though this regulation subsequently was modified so as to divide the composition into three parts, of which one was paid to the church of the deceased, one to his bishop, and the third to his kindred.[25] As a general rule, therefore, the clerk could claim no share of the blood-money collected for the murder of his kinsmen; nor be called upon to contribute to that incurred by his family;[26] though it is true that, by the Welsh laws of Hoel the Good, compiled in the tenth century, children, even prospective, were a link through which the liability might be again incurred. “Neither clerks nor women are to have a share of the galanas, since they are not avengers; however, they are to pay for their children or to make oath that they shall never have any.”[27]

With this exception, therefore, in its relations to the community, each family in the barbaric tribes was a unit, both for attack and defence, whether recourse was had to the jealously preserved right of private warfare, or whether the injured parties contented themselves with the more peaceful processes of the mallum or althing. This solidarity of the kindred is the key to much that would otherwise appear irrational in their legislation, and left, as we have seen, its traces late in the customary law.

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[CHAPTER II.]
THE OATH AND ITS ACCESSORIES.

Between the commission of an offence and its proof in a court of justice there lies a wide field for the exercise or perversion of human ingenuity. The subject of evidence is one which has taxed man’s reasoning powers to the utmost; and the subtle distinctions of the Roman law, with its probatio, præsumptio juris, præsumptio juris tantum: the endless refinements of the glossators, rating evidence in its different grades, as probatio optima, evidentissima, apertissima, legitima, sufficiens, indubitata, dilucida, liquida, evidens, perspicua, and semiplena; and the artificial rules of the common law, so repugnant frequently to human common sense, all alike show the importance of the subject, and its supreme difficulty. The semi-barbarian, impatient of such expenditure of logic, arrived at results by a shorter process.

The time has passed for the romantic school of writers who assume that the unsupported oath of the accused was originally sufficient to clear him of a charge, when the fierce warrior disdained to shrink from the consequences of his act. It was not, indeed, until long after the Teutonic tribes had declined from the assumed virtues of their native forests, that an unsupported oath was receivable as evidence, and the introduction of such a custom may be traced to the influence of the Roman law, in which the importance of the oath was overwhelming.[28] The Wisigoths, who moulded their laws on the Roman jurisprudence, were the only race of barbarians who permitted the accused, in the absence of definite testimony, to escape on his single oath,[29] and this exception only tends to prove the rule, for at the council of Valence, in 855, the Wisigothic custom was denounced in the strongest terms as an incentive to perjury.[30] It is true that the oath of a master could clear a slave accused of certain crimes,[31] which was no less an incentive to perjury, for the master was liable in case of conviction, but presumably in such case he took upon himself the responsibility and laid himself open to an accusation of perjury. As a rule, however, we may assume that the purgatorial power of a single oath was an innovation introduced by the church, which was trained in the Roman institutions and claimed for its members the privilege, when testimony was deficient, of clearing themselves by appealing in this manner to God.[32] Continued contact with the remains of Roman civilization strengthened the custom, and its development was to a great extent due to the revival of the study of the imperial jurisprudence in the twelfth century.[33] The primitive principle is well expressed in the Frisian code, where the pleader says, “I swear alone, if thou darest, deny my oath and fight me,”[34] where the oath is only the preliminary to proof by the judgment of God.

The exceptions to this in the early legislation of the barbarians are merely special immunities bestowed on rank. Thus in one of the most primitive of the Anglo-Saxon codes, which dates from the seventh century, the king and the bishop are permitted to rebut an accusation with their simple asseveration, and the thane and the mass-priest with a simple oath, while the great body both of clerks and laymen are forced to clear themselves by undergoing the regular form of canonical compurgation which will be hereafter described.[35] So, in the Welsh legislation, exemption from the oath of absolution was accorded to bishops, lords, the deaf, the dumb, men of a different language, and pregnant women.[36] Instances of class-privileges such as these may be traced throughout the whole period of the dark ages, and prove nothing except the advantages claimed and enjoyed by caste. Thus, by the law of Southern Germany, the unsupported oath of a claimant was sufficient, if he were a person of substance and repute, while, if otherwise, he was obliged to provide two conjurators,[37] and in Castile, the fijodalgo, or noble, could rebut a claim in civil cases by taking three solemn oaths, in which he invoked on himself the vengeance of God in this world and the next.[38]

So far, indeed, were the Barbarians from reposing implicit confidence in the integrity of their fellows that their earliest records show how fully they shared in the common desire of mankind to place the oath under the most efficient guarantees that ingenuity could devise. In its most simple form the oath is an invocation of some deity or supernatural power to grant or withhold his favor in accordance with the veracity of the swearer, but at all times men have sought to render this more impressive by interposing material objects dear to the individual, which were understood to be offered as pledges or victims for the divine wrath. Thus, among the Hindus, the ancient Manava Dharma Sastra prescribes the oath as satisfactory evidence in default of evidence, but requires it to be duly reinforced—

“In cases where there is no testimony, and the judge cannot decide upon which side lies the truth, he can determine it fully by administering the oath.

“Oaths were sworn by the seven Maharshis, and by the gods, to make doubtful things manifest, and even Vasishtha sware an oath before the king Sudama, son of Piyavana, when Viswamitra accused him of eating a hundred children.

“Let not the wise man take an oath in vain, even for things of little weight; for he who takes an oath in vain is lost in this world and the next.

“Let the judge swear the Brahman by his truth; the Kshatriya by his horses, his elephants, or his arms; the Vaisya by his cows, his corn, and his gold; the Sudra by all crimes.”[39]

And in the more detailed code of Vishnu there is an exceedingly complicated system of objects to be sworn upon, varying with the amount at stake and the caste of the swearer.[40]

We see the same custom in Greece, where Homer represents Hera as exculpating herself by an oath on the sacred head of Zeus, and on their marriage-bed, a practice which mortals imitated by swearing on the heads of their children, or on that of their patron, or of the king.[41] Under the Roman law, oaths were frequently taken on the head of the litigant, or on those of his children.[42] The Norse warrior was sworn, like the Hindu Kshatriya, on his warlike gear:

“Oaths shalt thou

First to me swear,

By board of ship,

By rim of shield,

By shoulder of steed,

By edge of sword,

That thou wilt not slay

The wife of Volund,

Nor of my bride

Cause the death.”[43]

When these material pledges were not offered, the sanctions of religion have in all ages been called into play to impress the imagination of the swearer with the awful responsibility incurred, the presence of the deity being obtained by the offer of a sacrifice, or his interposition being assured by the use of some object of peculiar sacredness. In Deuteronomy, when the corpse of a murdered man was found, the elders of the nearest city disculpated themselves and their fellow-citizens before the Levites over the body of a heifer slain for the purpose.[44] We see the same principle applied to promissory oaths in the horse which Tyndareus sacrificed and buried when he exacted from the suitors of Helen the oath that they would accede to her choice of a bridegroom and defend her and her husband against all comers;[45] and it is only necessary to allude to the well-known Ara Maxima of Hercules in Rome to show the prevalence of the same customs among the Italiotes. Similar practices were familiar to the Norsemen. Among them the Godi was both priest and judge, the judgment-seat adjoined the temple, and all parties to a suit, including judge and witnesses, were solemnly sworn upon the sacred ring kept for that purpose on the altar. It was sprinkled with the blood of a sacrificial bull, and then the oath was taken by invoking Freyr and Niord, and the almighty As to help the swearer as he should maintain truth and justice.[46] Yet so little did all these precautions serve to curb the untruthfulness of the cunning sea-kings that in Viga-Glums Saga we find Glum denying a charge of murder by an oath taken in three temples, in which he called Odin to witness in words so craftily framed that while he was in reality confessing his guilt he apparently was denying it most circumstantially.[47]

Similarly in Christian times, the most venerated forms of religion were, from a very early period, called in to lend sanctity to the imprecation, by devices which gave additional solemnity to the awful ceremony. In this the natural tendency of the church to follow the traditional customs of the populations from which its members were drawn was reinforced by the example of the practices of Judaism. The “covenant between the pieces,” by which Yahveh confirmed his promises to Abram, and by which the Jews renewed their promises to him, was a sacrificial ceremony of the most impressive character, only to be used on occasions of supreme importance. As soon as a permanent place of worship was provided, the altar in the temple was resorted to by litigants in order that the oath might be taken in the presence of Yahveh himself; and so powerful was the impression of this upon the Christian mind that in the early ages of the church there was a popular superstition that an oath taken in a Jewish synagogue was more binding and more efficient than one taken elsewhere.[48] These beliefs developed into a great variety of formulas, which would reward an examination more detailed than that which I can give them here.

In the middle of the sixth century, Pope Pelagius I. did not disdain to absolve himself from the charge of having been concerned in the troubles which drove his predecessor Vigilius into exile, by taking a disculpatory oath in the pulpit, holding over his head a crucifix and the gospels;[49] and in the eighth century a priest accused without witnesses to prove his guilt was enabled to absolve himself by placing the cross upon his head and declaring his innocence by the Everlasting God.[50] So, when the holy Gregory of Tours was accused of reproachful words truly spoken of Queen Fredegonda, a council of bishops decided that he should clear himself of the charge by oaths on three altars, after celebrating mass on each, which he duly performed, doubtless more to his corporeal than his spiritual benefit.[51] This plan of reduplicating oaths on different altars was an established practice among the Anglo-Saxons, who, in certain cases, allowed the plaintiff to substantiate his assertion by swearing in four churches, while the defendant could rebut the charge by taking an oath of negation in twelve.[52] Seven altars are similarly specified in the ancient Welsh laws in cases where a surety desired to deny his suretyship;[53] and, according to the Fleta, as late as the thirteenth century, a custom was current among merchants of proving the payment of a debt by swearing in nine churches, the abuse of which led to its abrogation.[54]

The intense veneration with which relics were regarded, however, caused them to be generally adopted as the most effective means of adding security to oaths, and so little respect was felt for the simple oath that, ere long, the adjuncts came to be looked upon as the essential feature, and the imprecation itself to be divested of binding force without them. Thus, in 680, when Ebroin, mayor of the palace of Burgundy, had defeated Martin, Duke of Austrasia, and desired to entice him from his refuge in the stronghold of Laon, two bishops were sent to him bearing the royal reliquaries, on which they swore that his life should be safe. Ebroin, however, had astutely removed the holy remains from their cases in advance, and when he thus got his enemy in his power, he held it but a venial indiscretion to expose Martin to a shameful death.[55] How thoroughly this was in accordance with the ideas of the age is shown by the incorporation, in the canons of the church, of the doctrine that an oath was to be estimated by its externals and not by itself. The penitential of David, dating from the latter half of the sixth century, provides that perjury committed in a church shall be punished by a fine of four times the value of that for which the false oath was taken,[56] but no penalty is provided for false swearing elsewhere. As the theory developed itself this tacit condoning of such perjury was boldly declared to be good ecclesiastical law, and the venerable code of morality which passes under the name of Theodore Archbishop of Canterbury assumes that a false oath taken on a consecrated cross requires, for absolution, three times the penance necessary in cases where the oath had been taken on an unconsecrated one, while, if the ministration of a priest had not been employed, the oath was void, and no penalty was inflicted for its violation.[57] In a similar mood the penitential known as that of Gregory III. provides that three years’ penance will absolve for perjury committed on a consecrated cross or on the hand of a bishop or priest, while seven years are requisite if the oath has been taken on the gospels or on an altar with relics.[58] This rule took its final shape in the canon law, which provides one year’s penance for perjury committed on an unconsecrated cross, and three years’ for that on a consecrated one, or on the hand of a bishop.[59]

These principles were adopted as the fundamental basis of all legal procedures in Wales. Every prosecution and defence required relics to give validity to the oaths of both parties, and even in the fifteenth century a collection of laws declares that a plaintiff coming into court without a relic on which to make his oath, not only lost his cause, but incurred a fine of nine-score pence. The same tendency is shown in the rule by which a man who suspected another of theft could go to him with a relic, and in the presence of witnesses demand an oath of negation, a failure in which was a conviction of the crime imputed, without further trial.[60] In the same spirit, ecclesiastical authority was even found to admit that a powerful motive might extenuate the sin of perjury. If committed voluntarily, seven years of penitence were enjoined for its absolution; if involuntarily, sixteen months, while if to preserve life or limb, the offence could be washed out with four months.[61] When such doctrines were received and acted upon, we can hardly wonder at the ingenious device which the sensitive charity of King Robert the Pious imitated from the duplicity of Ebroin, to save the souls of his friends. He provided two reliquaries on which to receive their oaths—one for his magnates, splendidly fabricated of crystal and gold, but entirely empty, the other for the common herd, plainer and enshrining a bird’s egg. Knowing in advance that his lieges would be forsworn, he thus piously sought to save them from sin in spite of themselves, and his monkish panegyrist is delighted in recounting this holy deceit.[62]

It was easy, from a belief such as this, to draw the deduction that when an oath was sworn on relics of peculiar sanctity, immediate punishment would follow perjury; and thus it followed that some shrines obtained a reputation which caused them to be resorted to in the settlement of disputed judicial questions. Even as early as St. Augustin there are traces of such practices, which that Father of the Church not only records, but imitated,[63] and at a later period the legends are numerous which record how the perjured sinner was stricken down senseless or rendered rigid and motionless in the act of swearing falsely.[64] From this point of view oaths were really ordeals, and as such we shall consider them hereafter. At present it suffices to observe that the profit which the church derived from thus administering oaths on relics affords an easy explanation of her teachings, and of the extension of these practices. Their resultant advantages are well illustrated by the example of the holy taper of Cardigan, in Wales. A miraculous image of the Virgin was cast ashore, bearing this taper burning in its hand. A church was built for it, and the taper “contynued styll burnynge the space of nyne yeres, without wastynge, until the tyme that one forsware himselfe thereon, so then it extincted, and never burned after.” At the suppression of the house under Henry VIII., the prior, Thomas Hore, testified: “Item, that since the ceasynge of burnynge of the sayd taper, it was enclosed and taken for a greate relyque, and so worshipped and kyssed of pylgremes, and used of men to sweare by in difficill and harde matters, whereof the advauntage admounted to greate sommes of money in tymes passed, payenge yerely to the same XXti nobles for a pencion unto thabbott of Chersey.”[65]

In all this Spain would seem to be exceptional. In the thirteenth century the rule is expressed that a pleader must take the oath required of him by his antagonist; if he is required to swear by God, it will not suffice for him to swear by some saint, or by his own head. Oaths could indeed be taken on crosses or altars, but they could also be reduced to the simplest asseveration. Thus, there is a provision that if one party says “Swear to me on your simple word,” then the reply “know that it is so,” or “believe me that it is so,” suffices, and has all the force of the most solemn adjuration.[66]

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[CHAPTER III.]
CONJURATORS, OR PARTAKERS IN THE OATH.

Notwithstanding the earnestness with which these teachings were enforced, it may readily be believed that the wild barbarian, who was clamoring for the restoration of stolen cattle, or the angry relatives, eager to share the wer-gild of some murdered kinsman, would scarce submit to be balked of their rights at the cost of simple perjury on the part of the criminal. We have seen that both before and after their conversion to Christianity they had little scruple in defiling the most sacred sanctions of the oath with cunning fraud, and they could repose little confidence in the most elaborate devices which superstition could invent to render perjury more to be dreaded than defeat. It was therefore natural that they should perpetuate an ancestral custom, which had arisen from the structure of their society, and which derived its guarantee from the solidarity of families alluded to above. This was the custom which was subsequently known as canonical compurgation, and which long remained a part of English jurisprudence, under the name of the Wager of Law. The defendant, when denying the allegation under oath, appeared surrounded by a number of companions—juratores, conjuratores, sacramentales, collaudantes, compurgatores, as they were variously termed—who swore, not to their knowledge of the facts, but as sharers and partakers in the oath of denial.

This form of procedure derives importance from the fact that it is an expression of the character, not of an isolated sept, but of nearly all the races that have moulded the destinies of modern Europe. Although unknown to the Roman law, there are traces of it in the ancient Hellenic legislation.[67] The Ostrogoths in Italy, and the Wisigoths of the south of France and Spain were the only nations in whose extant codes it occupies no place, and they, as has already been remarked, at an early period yielded themselves completely to the influence of the Roman civilization.[68] On the other hand, the Salians, the Ripuarians, the Alamanni, the Baioarians, the Lombards, the Frisians, the Norsemen, the Saxons, the Angli and Werini, the Anglo-Saxons, and the Welsh, races whose common origin must be sought in the prehistoric past, all gave to this form of purgation a prominent position in their jurisprudence, and it may be said to have reigned from Southern Italy to Scotland.[69]

The earliest text of the Salic law presents us with the usages of the Franks unaltered by any allusions to Christianity, and it may therefore be presumed to date from a period not later than the conversion of Clovis. In this primitive code there are directions for the employment of conjurators, which show that the procedure was a settled and established form at that period.[70] So in the Frisian law, which, although compiled in the eighth century, still reveals pagan customs and the primitive condition of society, the practice of compurgation evidently forms the basis of judicial proceedings. The Islands Landnamabok also exhibits it as a form of regular procedure among the heathen Norsemen. Although the other codes have only reached us in revisions subsequent to the conversion of the several tribes, still, the universal use of the practice shows that its origin must be traced to a period anterior to the separation of the several races from the original common stock.

The church, with the tact which distinguished her dealings with her new converts, was not long in adopting a system which was admirably suited for her defence in an age of brute force. As holy orders sundered all other ties, and as the church was regarded as one vast family, ecclesiastics speedily arrogated to themselves and obtained the privilege of having men of their own class as compurgators, and, thus fortified for mutual support, they were aided in resisting the oppressors who invaded their rights on every hand. This claim, with all its attendant advantages, was fully conceded when Charlemagne, in the year 800, went to Rome for the purpose of trying Pope Leo III. on a grave charge, and in that august presence the Pontiff, whom no witnesses dared to accuse, cleared himself of the crimes imputed to him by solemnly taking the oath of denial in company with twelve priests as compurgators.[71] Three years afterwards, the Emperor decreed that, in all doubtful cases, priests should defend themselves with three, five, or seven ecclesiastical compurgators, and he announced that this decision had been reached by the common consent of pope, patriarchs, bishops, and all the faithful.[72] It is true that a few months later, on being shown a decretal of Gregory II.[73] ordering the clergy to rebut with their single oaths all accusations unsupported by witnesses, he modified his previous command, and left the matter to the discretion of his prelates; but this had no practical result, for Charlemagne’s capitulary was adopted in the canon law and ascribed to Leo himself.[74] The custom soon received the papal sanction again in the most solemn manner. In 823, Pope Pascal I. was more than suspected of complicity in the murder of Theodore and Leo, two high dignitaries of the papal court. Desirous to avoid an investigation by the commissioners sent by Louis le Débonnaire, he hastily purged himself of the crime in anticipation of their arrival, by an oath taken with a number of bishops as his compurgators;[75] and it is a striking example of the weight accorded to the procedure that, although the assumed fault of the victims had been their devotion to the imperial party, and though the pope had by force of arms prevented any pursuit of the murderers, the emperor was powerless to exact satisfaction, and there was nothing further to be done. Pope Pascal stood before the world an innocent man.

It is true that, in the tenth century, Atto of Vercelli complains bitterly that a perverse generation refused to be satisfied with the single oath of an accused priest, and required him to be surrounded by compurgators of his class, which that indignant sacerdotalist regarded as a grievous wrong.[76] As the priesthood, however, failed in obtaining the entire immunity for which they strove during those turbulent times, the unquestioned advantages which compurgation afforded recommended it to them with constantly increasing force. Forbidden at length to employ the duel in settling their differences, and endeavoring, in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, to obtain exemption from the ordeal, they finally accepted compurgation as the special mode of trial adapted to members of the church, and for a long period we find it recognized as such in all the collections of canons and writings of ecclesiastical jurists.[77] From this fact it obtained its appellation of purgatio canonica, or canonical compurgation.

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[CHAPTER IV.]
SELECTION OF COMPURGATORS.

As already remarked, the origin of the custom is to be traced to the principle of the unity of families. As the offender could summon his kindred around him to resist an armed attack of the injured party, so he took them with him to the court, to defend him with their oaths. Accordingly, we find that the service was usually performed by the kindred, and in some codes this is even prescribed by law, though not universally.[78] This is well illustrated in the Welsh laws, where the raith, or compurgation, was the basis of almost all procedure, and where consequently the system was brought to its fullest perfection. Complicated rules existed as to the proportion of paternal and maternal kindred required in various cases, and the connection between the wer-gild and the obligation of swearing in defence of a kinsman was fully recognized—“Because the law adjudges the men nearest in worth in every case, excepting where there shall be men under vows to deny murder,” therefore the compurgators were required to be those “nearest to obtain his worth if killed.”[79] Under these circumstances, the raith-man could be objected to on the score of not being of kin, when the oaths of himself and his principal were received as sufficient proof of relationship;[80] and the alltud, or foreigner, was not entitled to the raith unless he had kindred to serve on it.[81] How the custom sometimes worked in practice among the untameable barbarians is fairly illustrated by a case recounted by Aimoin as occurring under Chilperic I. in the latter half of the sixth century. A wife suspected by her husband offered the oath of purgation on the altar of St. Denis with her relatives, who were persuaded of her innocence; the husband not yet satisfied, accused the compurgators of perjury, and the fierce passions of both parties becoming excited, weapons were speedily drawn, and the sanctity of the venerable church was profaned with blood.[82]

It was manifestly impossible, however, to enforce the rule of kinship in all cases, for the number of compurgators varied in the different codes, and in all of them a great number were required when the matter at stake was large, or the crime or criminal important. Thus when Chilperic I. was assassinated in 584, doubts were entertained as to the legitimacy of his son Clotair, an infant of four months—doubts which neither the character of Queen Fredegonda nor the manner of Chilperic’s death had any tendency to lessen—and Gontran, brother of the murdered king, did not hesitate to express his belief that the royal child’s paternity was traceable to some one of the minions of the court, a belief doubtless stimulated by the promise it afforded him of another crown. Fredegonda, however, repaired her somewhat questionable reputation and secured the throne to her offspring, by appearing at the altar with three bishops and three hundred nobles, who all swore with her as to the legitimacy of the little prince, and no further doubts were ventured on the delicate subject.[83] A similar case occurred in Germany in 899, when Queen Uta cleared herself of an accusation of infidelity, by taking a purgatorial oath with eighty-two nobles.[84] So in 824, a dispute between Hubert, Bishop of Worcester, and the Abbey of Berkeley, concerning the monastery of Westbury, was settled by the oath of the bishop, supported by those of fifty mass-priests, ten deacons, and a hundred and fifty other ecclesiastics.[85] These were, perhaps, exceptional instances, but in Wales the law required, as a regular matter, enormous numbers of compurgators in many cases. Privity to homicide, for instance, was divided into three triads, or nine classes of various degrees of guilt. Of these, the first triad called for one hundred raith-men to establish the denial; the second triad, 200, and the third, 300;[86] while, to rebut an accusation of killing with savage violence or poisoning, the enormous number of six hundred compurgators was considered necessary.[87] Even these armies of oath-takers did not widen the circle from which selection was allowed, for the law absolutely specifies that “the oaths of three hundred men of a kindred are required to deny murder, blood, and wound,”[88] and the possibility of finding them is only explicable by the system of tribes or clans in which all were legally related one to another. This is illustrated by a further regulation, according to which, under the Gwentian code, in an accusation of theft, with positive evidence, the thief was directed to clear himself with twenty-four raith=men of his own cantrev or district, in equal number from each cymwd or sub-district.[89]

Under a different social organization, it is evidently impossible that a kindred sufficiently large could have been assembled in the most numerous families, and even when the requirements were more reasonable, the same difficulty must frequently have occurred. This is recognized in the Danish laws of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, where the conjuratorial oaths of kindred, known as neffn i kyn, were requisite, unless the accused could swear that he had no relations, in which case he was allowed to produce twelve other men of proper character, lag feste men.[90] In a constitution of Frederic II. in 1235, the compurgators are required to be of the same class as their principal, and to be sinodales homines, men of undoubted character.[91] Thus the aid of those not connected by ties of blood must often have been necessary, and as it was a service not without danger, as we shall see hereafter, it is not easy to understand how the requisite number was reached. In certain cases, no doubt, the possibility of obtaining those not bound by kindred to undertake the office is traceable to the liability which in some instances rested upon a township for crime committed within its borders;[92] while the system of guilds in which the members shared with each other a responsibility resembling that of kinship rendered participation in the oath of denial almost a necessity when a comrade was prosecuted.[93]

It would be endless to specify all the variations in the numbers required by the different codes in all imaginable cases of quarrel between every class of society. Numerous elements entered into these regulations; the nature of the crime or claim, the station of the parties, the rank of the compurgators, and the mode by which they were selected. Thus, in the simplest and most ancient form, the Salic law merely specifies twenty-five compurgators to be equally chosen by both parties.[94] Some formulas of Marculfus specify three freeholders and twelve friends of the accused.[95] A Merovingian edict of 593 directs the employment of three peers of the defendant, with three others chosen for the purpose, probably by the court.[96] Alternative numbers, however, soon make their appearance, depending upon the manner in which the men were chosen. Thus among the Alamanni, on a trial for murder, the accused was obliged to secure the support of twenty designated men, or, if he brought such as he had selected himself, the number was increased to eighty.[97] So, in a capitulary of 803, Charlemagne prescribes seven chosen conjurators, or twelve if taken at random,[98] a rule which is virtually the same as that laid down by the Emperor Henry III. in the middle of the eleventh century.[99] In 922 the council of Coblentz directs that accusations of sacrilege could be rebutted with twenty-four chosen men, or seventy-two freemen not thus selected.[100] In Bigorre the law thus discriminated against the cagots—an infamous wandering race of uncertain origin—for cases in which the oaths of seven conjurators ordinarily sufficed required thirty cagots, when the latter were called upon to act.[101] In an English record of the fifteenth century we find a defendant called upon to prove his innocence with six of his neighbors or twelve strangers.[102]

Strangely enough, the church at one time adopted the principle that the higher the rank of the accused the more he must present of his peers as compurgators. Thus the bishop required eleven bishops, the priest five priests, and the deacon two deacons; but Cardinal Henry of Susa who enunciates this says it is an error, and that the number is at the discretion of the judge.[103] The rule, moreover, that the compurgators must be of the same rank and class as the accused was waived when they were presumably inimical to him or the proper number could not be had, and thus a cleric might be cleared by the oaths of laymen.[104]

Variations likewise occur arising from the nature of the case and the character of the plaintiff. Thus in the Scottish law of the twelfth century, in a criminal charge, a man could defend himself against his lord with eleven men of good reputation, but if the king were the accuser, twenty-four were requisite, who were all to be his peers, while in a civil case twelve were sufficient.[105] So in the burgher laws of David I., ordinary cases between citizens were settled with ten conjurators, but eleven were necessary if the king were a party, or if the matter involved the life, limb, or lands of one of the contestants; and in cases occurring between a citizen and a countryman, each party had to provide conjurators of his own class.[106] In the complicated rules for compurgation which form the basis of the Welsh jurisprudence, there are innumerable details of this nature. We have seen that for some crimes many hundred raith-men were required, while similar numbers were enjoined in some civil suits respecting real property.[107] From this the number diminishes in proportion to the gravity of the case, as is well illustrated by the provisions for denying the infliction of a bruise. If the mark remained until the ninth day, the accused could deny it with “two persons of the same privilege as himself;” if it remained until the eighteenth day, the oaths of three conjurators were necessary; if till the twenty-seventh day, four raith-men were required.[108]

The character of the raith-men also affected the number demanded. Thus, in a collection of Welsh laws of the fifteenth century there is an explanation of the apparent anomaly that privity to theft or homicide required for its defence a vastly greater number of compurgators than the commission of the crime itself. The large bodies prescribed for the former consisted simply of any men that could be had—of course within the recognized grades of kindred—while, for the latter, rules of varying complexity were laid down. Thus, of the twenty-four required for theft, in some texts it is prescribed that two-thirds are to be of the nearest paternal kin, and one-third of the nearest maternal; or, again, one-half nod-men.[109] So, in accusations of homicide, the same proportions of paternal and maternal kindred were required, all were to be proprietors in the country of the raith, and three, moreover, were to be men under vows of abstinence from linen, horses, and women, besides a proper proportion of nod-men.[110]

Instances also occur in which the character of the defendant regulated the number required. Among the Welsh, the laws of Hoel Dda provide that a wife accused of infidelity could disprove a first charge with seven women; if her conduct provoked a second investigation, she had to procure fourteen; while, on a third trial, fifty female conjurators were requisite for her escape.[111] Another application of the same principle is found in the provision that when a man confessed a portion of the crime imputed to him and denied the remainder, an augmented raith was required to support his denial, because it is more difficult to believe a man who has admitted his participation in a criminal act. Thus when only fifty men were requisite to rebut a charge of homicide, and the accused admitted one of the accessories to homicide, his denial of the main charge had to be substantiated by one hundred, two hundred, or three hundred men, according to the nature of the case. On the other hand, where no criminal act was concerned, confession of a portion diminished the raith for the remainder. Thus in a claim for suretyship, six compurgators were necessary to the defendant; but if he admitted part of the suretyship, his unsupported oath was sufficient to rebut the remainder, as the admission of a portion rendered him worthy of belief.[112] In the Anglo-Saxon jurisprudence, the frangens jusjurandum, as it was called, also grew to be an exceedingly complex system in the rules by which the number and quality of the conjurators were regulated according to the nature of the crime and the rank of the accused. In cases of peculiar atrocity, such as violation of the sanctity of the grave, only thanes were esteemed competent to appear.[113] In fact, among the Anglo-Saxons, the value of a man’s oath was rated according to his rank, that of a thane, for instance, being equal to those of seven villeins.[114] The same peculiarity is observable among the Frisians, whose laws required that compurgators should be of the same class as their principal, and the lower his position in the State, the larger was the number requisite.[115]

It was, however, not only the number of compurgators required that affected the result, but the method by which they were chosen, and this gave rise to wide variations in practice. Originally, it is probable that the selection was left to the accused, who gathered them from among his kindred. This would lead almost inevitably to his acquittal, as forcibly pointed out by Hincmar in the ninth century. In objecting to admit the purgation of an offending priest with ecclesiastics of his own choice, he states that evil-minded men combined together to defeat justice and secure immunity for their crimes by serving each other in turn, so that when the accused insisted on offering his companions to the oath, it was necessary to make them undergo the ordeal to prove their sincerity.[116] His expressions indicate that the question of selection at that time was undecided in France, and the alternative numbers alluded to above show one of the methods adopted to meet the evident evils of the process. Other nations devised various expedients. The original Lombard law of King Rotharis gave to the plaintiff the privilege of naming a majority of the compurgators, the remainder being chosen by the defendant,[117] but even in this the solidarity of the family was recognized, since it was the duty of the plaintiff to select the nearest relatives of his adversary, provided they were not personally hostile to the accused.[118] This same spirit is shown even so late as 1116, in a charter by which Baldwin VII. of Flanders gratified the citizens of Ypres by substituting among them the process of compurgation for the ordeal and battle trial. According to this, the accuser selected four of the relatives of the accused to take the purgatorial oath; if they refused through known enmity, he was bound to select four other of the kindred, and if none such were to be found then four legal men sufficed.[119] The English law was the first to educe a rational mode of trial from the absurdity of the barbaric traditions, and there the process finally assumed a form which occasionally bears a striking resemblance to trial by jury—in fact, it insensibly runs into the latter, to the rise of which it probably contributed. By the laws of Canute, in some cases, fourteen men were named to the defendant, among whom he was obliged to find eleven willing to take the purgatorial oath with him.[120] The selection of these virtual jurors was probably made by the gerefa, or sheriff;[121] they could be challenged for suspicion of partiality or other competent cause, and were liable to rejection unless unexceptionable in every particular.[122] Very similar to this was the stockneffn of the ancient Danish law, by which, in cases where the relatives were not called upon, thirteen men were chosen, a majority of whom could clear the accused by taking the oath with him. They were nominated by a person appointed for the purpose, and if the court neglected this duty, the privilege enured to the plaintiff.[123] More facile for the defence was a process prescribed in a Spanish charter of 1135, where, in cases of homicide, it sufficed for the accused to obtain five conjurators out of twelve selected by the magistrates.[124] A method combining selection and chance is described in the custumal of Ipswich in the twelfth century, to decide questions of debt between the townsfolk. The party on whom proof was incumbent brought in ten men; these were divided into two bands of five each, and a knife was thrown up between them; the band towards which the point of the knife fell was taken, one of the five was set aside, and the remaining four served as conjurators.[125]

The Northern nations were evidently less disposed to favor the accused than the Southern. In Sweden and Denmark, another regulation provides that although the defendant had a right to demand this mode of purgation, yet the plaintiff had the selection of the twelve men who served as conjurators; three of these the accused could challenge for enmity, but their places were supplied by the plaintiff.[126] The evanescent code compiled for Iceland by Haco Haconsen and his son Magnus, towards the close of the thirteenth century, is more equitable in its provisions. Though it leaves the nomination of the conjurators to the defendant, the choice is subject to limitations which placed it virtually in the power of the court. They were required to be men of the vicinage, of good repute, peers of the accused, and in no way connected with him by blood or other ties.[127] The more lasting code promulgated at the same time by Magnus for his Norwegian dominions, a code which became the common law of Norway for 500 years, provides, for cases in which eleven conjurators are required, that seven of them shall be selected of intelligent men of full age, and in no way related to the accused, yet residents of the vicinage, and acquainted with the facts; the accused can then add four more of good character, himself making the twelfth.[128] We see here, as in the English jurisprudence, how nearly the conjuratorial process approaches to the jury-trial, and how completely it has departed from its origin in the solidarity of the family.

Such care in the selection of those on whom duties so responsible devolved did not prevail among the more Southern races at an earlier age. Among the Lombards slaves and women in tutelage were often employed.[129] The Burgundians required that the wife and children, or, in their absence, the father and mother of the accused should assist in making up the number of twelve,[130] the object being evidently to increase the responsibility of the family for the action of its head. The abuses of this custom, however, caused its prohibition under Charlemagne for the reason that it led to the swearing of children of tender and irresponsible age.[131] That legislator, however, contented himself with forbidding those who had once been convicted of perjury from again appearing either as witnesses or conjurators;[132] and the little care that was deemed necessary in their selection under the Carlovingian jurisprudence is shown by a law of Louis le Débonnaire ordering that landless freemen should be allowed to serve as conjurators, though ineligible as witnesses.[133] A truer conception of the course of justice is manifested, some centuries later, by the Béarnese legislation, which required that the seguidors or conjurators, as well as the testimonis or witnesses should be men able to pay the amount at stake, together with the fine incurred by the losing party,[134] or that they should be fair and loyal men, not swayed by enmity.[135]

In ecclesiastical trials it would seem that the selection of compurgators rested with the bishop. In a case occurring in the thirteenth century, of a priest accused of homicide who failed in his compurgation, he appealed to the Holy See on the ground that his accusers were perjurers and that the bishop had chosen the compurgators to suit himself.[136] As a matter of course, the result of the trial depended, as it does with the modern jury, on the fairness with which the choice was made, and in the universal corruption of the middle ages there is no reason to suppose that favoritism or bribery was not a controlling influence in a majority of cases.

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[CHAPTER V.]
CONDITIONS OF COMPURGATION.

The conditions under which resort was had to this mode of deciding litigation have been the subject of some discussion. It has been assumed that, in the early period, before the ferocious purity of the Barbarians had become adulterated under the influence of Roman civilization, it was used in all description of cases, at the option of the defendant, and was in itself a full and satisfactory proof, received on all hands as equal to any other.[137] The only indication that I have met with, among the races of Teutonic stock, tending to the support of such a conjecture, occurs in the Lombard code, where Rotharis, the earliest compiler of written laws, abolishes a previously existing privilege of denying under oath a crime after it had been confessed.[138] A much more powerful argument on the other side, however, is derivable from the earliest text of the Salic law, to which reference has already been made. In this, the formula shows clearly that conjurators were only employed in default of other testimony;[139] and what lends additional force to the conclusion is that this direction disappears in subsequent revisions of the law, wherein the influences of Christianity and of Roman civilization are fully apparent. No safe deductions, indeed, can be drawn from mere omissions to specify that the absence of witnesses was necessary, for these ancient codes are drawn up in the rudest manner, and regulations which might safely be presumed to be familiar to every one would not, in their curt and barbarous sentences, be repeated with the careful redundancy which marks our modern statutes. Thus there is a passage in the code of the Alamanni which declares in the most absolute form that if a man commits a murder and desires to deny it, he can clear himself with twelve conjurators.[140] This, by itself, would authorize the assumption that compurgation was allowed to override the clearest and most convincing testimony, yet it is merely a careless form of expression, for another section of the same code expressly provides that where a fact is proved by competent witnesses the defendant shall not have the privilege of producing compurgators.[141]

It therefore seems evident that, even in the earliest times, this mode of proof was only an expedient resorted to in doubtful matters, and on the necessity of its use the rachinborgs or judges probably decided. A case recorded in the Landnamabok certainly shows that among the heathen Norsemen the Godi or priest-judge had this power, for when Thorbiorn Digre prosecuted Thorarin of Mafahlid for horse-stealing, and demanded that he should produce twelve conjurators, Arnkell, the Godi, decided that the accused might clear himself with his simple oath on the holy ring of the altar, and thus the prosecution came to naught except as leading to a bloody feud.[142] That this discretion was lodged in the court in subsequent times is generally admitted. It is scarcely worth while to multiply proof; but a few references will show the light in which the custom was regarded.[143]

As employed by the Church, the rule was distinctly enunciated in the thirteenth century that the accused was not to be allowed to clear himself by canonical purgation when the crime was notorious or when the accuser offered to prove the charge.[144]

The Welsh, however, were exceptional in this respect. The raith was the corner-stone of their system of jurisprudence. It was applied to almost all actions, whether of civil or criminal law, and even cases of doubtful paternity were settled by it, no woman, except one “of bush and brake” who had no legal kindred, being allowed to give testimony or take an oath with respect to the paternity of her illegitimate child.[145] It excluded and superseded all other procedures. If the accused declined to take the oath of denial, then testimony on both sides could be introduced, and the case be settled on the evidence adduced;[146] but where he chose to abide by the raith, the Book of Cynog formally declares that “Evidences are not to be brought as to galanas [homicide], nor saraad [insults], nor blood, nor wound, nor ferocious acts, nor waylaying, nor burning buildings, nor theft, nor surety, nor open assault, nor adultery, nor violence, nor in a case where guardians should be, nor in a case where an established raith is appointed by law; because evidences are not to extinguish a raith.”[147] Indeed, the only case which I have found wherein it was refused is where a priest of the same parish as one accused of theft testifies to have seen him in open daylight with the article stolen in his possession, when apparently the sacred character of the witness precludes a denial on the part of the defendant.[148]

Among other races confidence in its ability to supplement absent or deficient testimony was manifested in another form—the juramentum supermortuum—which was employed by various nations, at wide intervals of time. Thus, in the earliest legislation of the Anglo-Saxons, we find that when the defendant or an important witness was dead, the oath which he would have taken or the deposition which he would have made was obtained by proceeding to his tomb, where a certain number of conjurators swore as to what he could or would have done if alive.[149] Two centuries later, the same custom is alluded to in the Welsh laws of Hoel Dda,[150] and even as late as the thirteenth century it was still in force throughout Germany.[151] There were other cases in which evidence of any kind was almost impossible, and in these the wager of law offered a convenient resource. Thus, Frederic II., in 1235, decreed that a man harboring an outlaw should himself be outlawed, but he was allowed to prove with six conjurators that he was ignorant of the outlawry.[152]

A remarkable use of conjurators to confirm the evidence of witnesses occurs in 850 in a dispute between Cantius, Bishop of Siena, and Peter, Bishop of Arezzo, concerning certain parishes claimed by both. The occasion was a solemn one, for it was before a council held in Rome presided over jointly by Pope Leo IV. and the Emperor Louis II. Peter relied upon written charters, while Cantius produced witnesses. The Emperor pronounced the claim of the latter to be just, when he and twelve priests swore that the oaths of the witnesses were true and without deceit, whereupon the disputed parishes were adjudged to him.[153]

The employment of compurgators, however, depended frequently upon the degree of crime alleged, or the amount at stake. Thus, in many codes, trivial offences or small claims were disposed of by the single oath of the defendant, while more important cases required compurgators, whose numbers increased with the magnitude of the matter in question. This principle is fairly illustrated in a charter granted to the Venetians in the year 1111 by Henry V. In suits which involved only the value of a silver pound, the oath of the party was sufficient; but if the claim amounted to twelve pounds or more, then twelve chosen men were requisite to substantiate the oath of negation.[154]

In England in the thirteenth century we find compurgation very generally employed in the manorial courts for the settlement of petty criminal actions. So general was its use, indeed, that it obtained the name of “law,” as the legal method par excellence, and the process is curtly described in the reports as “facere legem,” “esse ad legem,” “vadiare legem,” whence is derived the term “wager of law.” The number of compurgators was generally two or five, and they seem to have been left, as a rule, to the choice of the defendant, so that failure to procure the requisite number was very unusual.[155]

In later times, compurgation was also sometimes used as an alternative when circumstances prevented the employment of other popular modes of deciding doubtful cases. Those, for instance, who would ordinarily be required to defend themselves by the wager of battle, were permitted by some codes to substitute the oaths of a certain number of conjurators, when precluded by advanced age from appearing in the arena. The burgher law of Scotland affords an example of this,[156] though elsewhere such cases were usually settled by the substitution of champions. Class privileges also manifested themselves in this as in so many other features of mediæval law, and we sometimes find compurgation allowed as a favor to those of gentle birth. Thus, in the Council of Reims in 1119, among the provisions for the enforcement of the Truce of God, accusations of its violation are rebutted by knights with six compurgators, while common people are required to undergo the ordeal.[157]

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[CHAPTER VI.]
FORMULAS AND PROCEDURE.

The primitive lawgivers were too chary of words in their skeleton codes to embody in them the formula usually employed for the compurgatorial oath. We have therefore no positive evidence of its nature in the earliest times; but as the forms made use of by several races at a somewhat later period have been preserved, and as they resemble each other in all essential respects, we may reasonably assume that little variation had previously occurred. The most ancient that I have met with occurs in an Anglo-Saxon formulary which is supposed to date from about A. D. 900: “By the Lord, the oath is clean and unperjured which N. has sworn.”[158] A century later, in a compilation of the Lombard law, it appears: “That which the accused has sworn is true, so help me God.”[159] The form specified in Béarn, at a period somewhat subsequent, is curt and decisive: “By these saints, he tells the truth;”[160] while the code in force in Normandy until the sixteenth century directs an oath identical in spirit: “The oath which William has sworn is true, so help me God and his saints.”[161] It will be observed that all these, while essentially distinct from the oath of a witness, are still unqualified assertions of the truth of the principal, and not mere asseverations of belief or protestations of confidence. The earliest departure from this positive affirmation, in secular jurisprudence, occurs in the unsuccessful attempt at legislation for Norway and Iceland by Haco Haconsen in the thirteenth century. In this, the impropriety of such oaths is pointed out, and it is directed that in future the compurgator shall swear only, in confirmation of his principal, that he knows nothing to the contrary.[162] In the similar code promulgated in 1274 by his son Magnus in Norway, it is directed that the accused shall take a full oath of denial, and the conjurators shall swear in the same words that his oath is true, and that they know nothing truer.[163]

We shall see that, before the custom fell into total disuse, the change which Haco vainly attempted, came to be generally adopted, in consequence, principally, of the example set by the church. Even before this was formally promulgated by the Popes, however, ecclesiastics occasionally showed that they were more careful as to what they swore, and at a comparatively early period they introduced the form of merely asserting their belief in the oath taken by their principal. Thus, in 1101, we find two bishops endeavoring to relieve a brother prelate from a charge of simony, and their compurgatorial oath ventures no further than “So help me God, I believe that Norgaud, Bishop of Autun, has sworn the truth.”[164]

In the form of oath, however, as well as in so many other particulars, the Welsh had a more complicated system, peculiar to themselves. The ordinary raith-man only was required to take an oath “that it appears most likely to him that what he swears to is true.” In many aggravated crimes, however, a certain proportion, generally one-half, had to be nod-men who were bound to a more stringent form, as the law specifies that “the oath of a nod-man is, to be in accordance with what is sworn by the criminal.”[165] The difference, as we have seen, in the numbers required when a portion were nod-men shows how much more difficult it was to find men willing to swear to an absolute denial, and how much more weight was attached to such a declaration than to the lax expression of opinion contained in the ordinary oath of the raith-man.

Variations are likewise observable in the form of administering the oath. Among the Alamanni, for instance, the compurgators laid their hands upon the altar, and the principal placed his hand over the others, repeating the oath alone;[166] while among the Lombards, a law of the Emperor Lothair directs that each shall take the oath separately.[167] It was always, however, administered in a consecrated place, before delegates appointed by the judges trying the cause, sometimes on the altar and sometimes on relics. In the Welsh laws of the fifteenth century it is specified that all raiths shall be administered in the parish church of the defendant, before the priest shall have disrobed or distributed the sacramental bread.[168] At an earlier period a formula of Marculfus specifies the Capella S. Martini, or cope of St. Martin,[169] one of the most venerated relics of the royal chapel, whence we may perhaps conclude that it was habitually used for that purpose in the business of the royal Court of Appeals.

Notwithstanding the universality of the custom, and the absolute character of the decisions reached by the process, it is easy to discern that the confidence reposed in it was of a very qualified character, even at an early period. The primitive law of the Frisians describes some whimsical proceedings, prescribed for the purpose of determining the responsibility for a homicide committed in a crowd. The accuser was at liberty to select seven from among the participants of the brawl, and each of these was obliged to deny the crime with twelve conjurators. This did not absolve them, however, for each of them was also individually subjected to the ordeal, which finally decided as to his guilt or innocence. In this, the value of the compurgation was reduced to that of the merest technical ceremony, and yet a failure to procure the requisite number of supporters was tantamount to a conviction, while, to crown the absurdity of the whole, if any one succumbed in the ordeal, his conjurators were punished as perjurers.[170] A similar want of confidence in the principle involved is shown by a reference in the Anglo-Saxon laws to the conjurators of an accused party being outsworn (overcythed), when recourse was likewise had to the ordeal.[171] Among the heathen Norsemen, indeed, an offer by either party to produce conjurators could always be met by the antagonist with a challenge to the duel, which at once superseded all other proceedings.[172] As regards the church, although the authoritative use of compurgation among ecclesiastics would seem to demand for it among them implicit faith in its results, yet we have already seen that, in the ninth century, Hincmar did not hesitate to require that in certain cases it should be confirmed by the ordeal; and two centuries later, a remark of Ivo of Chartres implies a strong degree of doubt as to its efficacy. In relating that Sanctio, Bishop-elect of Orleans, when accused of simony by a disappointed rival, took the oath of negation with seven compurgators, he adds that the accused thus cleared himself as far as he could in the eyes of man.[173] That the advantages it offered to the accused were duly appreciated, both by criminals and judges, is evident from the case of Manasses, Archbishop of Reims. Charged with simony and other offences, after numerous tergiversations he was finally summoned for trial before the Council of Lyons, in 1080. As a last effort to escape the impending doom, he secretly offered to Bishop Hugh, the Papal legate, the enormous sum of two hundred ounces of gold and other presents in hand, besides equally liberal prospective payments, if he could obtain the privilege of compurgation with six suffragan bishops. Gregory VII. was then waging too uncompromising a war with the corroding abuse of simony for his lieutenant to yield to any bribe, however dazzling; the proffer was spurned, Manasses confessed his guilt by absence, and was accordingly deposed.[174] Incidents like this, however, did not destroy confidence in the system, for, some sixty years later, we find Innocent II. ordering the Bishop of Trent, when similarly accused of simony, to clear himself with the oaths of two bishops and three abbots or monks.[175]

The comparative value attached to the oaths of conjurators is illustrated by the provisions which are occasionally met with, regulating the cases in which they were employed in default of witnesses, or in opposition to them. Thus, in the Baioarian law, the oath of one competent witness is considered to outweigh those of six conjurators;[176] and among the Lombards, an accusation of murder which could be met with three witnesses required twelve conjurators as a substitute.[177]

It is therefore evident that conjurators were in no sense witnesses, that they were not expected to give testimony, and that they merely expressed their confidence in the veracity of their principal. It may consequently at first sight appear somewhat unreasonable that they should be held guilty of perjury and subject to its penalties in case of unluckily sustaining the wrong side of a cause. It is probably owing to this apparent injustice that some writers have denied that they were involved in the guilt of their principal, and among others the learned Meyer has fallen into this error.[178] The proof, however, is too clear for dispute. We have already seen that the oath was an unqualified assertion of the justice of the side espoused, without reservation justifying the escape of the compurgators from the charge of false swearing, and one or two incidental references have been made to the punishments inflicted on them when subsequently convicted of perjury. The code of the Alamanni recognized the guilt involved in such cases when it denied the privilege of compurgation to any one who had previously been more than once convicted of crime, giving as a reason the desire to save innocent persons from incurring the sin of perjury.[179] Similar evidence is derived from a regulation promulgated by King Liutprand in the Lombard Law, by which a man nominated as a conjurator, and declining to serve, was obliged to swear that he dared not take the oath for fear of his soul.[180] A case in point occurs in the life of St. Boniface, whose fellow-laborer Adalger in dying left his property to the church. The graceless brothers of the deceased disputed the bequest, and offered to make good their claim to the estate by the requisite number of oaths. The holy man ordered them to swear alone, in order not to be concerned in the destruction of their conjurators, and on their unsupported oaths gave up the property.[181]

The law had no hesitation in visiting such cases with the penalties reserved for perjury. By the Salic code unlucky compurgators were heavily fined.[182] Among the Frisians, they had to buy themselves off from punishment by the amount of their wer-gild—the value set upon their heads.[183] A slight relaxation of this severity is manifested in the Carlovingian legislation, by which they were punished with the loss of a hand—the customary penalty of perjury—unless they could establish, by undergoing the ordeal, that they had taken the oath in ignorance of the facts; but even in trifling causes a defeated litigant could accuse his own conjurator of perjury, when both parties were sent to the ordeal of the cross, and if the conjurator broke down he lost a hand.[184] So late as the close of the twelfth century, we find Celestin III. ordering the employment of conjurators in a class of cases about the facts of which they could not possibly know anything, and decreeing that if the event proved them to be in error they were to be punished for perjury.[185] That such liability was fully recognized at this period is shown by the argument of Aliprandus of Milan, a celebrated contemporary legist, who, in maintaining the position that an ordinary witness committing perjury must always lose his hand, without the privilege of redeeming it, adds that no witness can perjure himself unintentionally; but that conjurators may do so either knowingly or unknowingly, that they are therefore entitled to the benefit of the doubt, and if not wittingly guilty, that they should have the privilege of redeeming their hands.[186]

All this seems in the highest degree irrational, yet in criticising the hardships to which innocent conjurators were thus exposed, it should be borne in mind that the whole system had become a solecism. In its origin, it was simply summoning the kinsmen together to bear the brunt of the court, as they were bound to bear that of battle; and as they were liable for a portion of the fine which was the penalty of all crimes—personal punishments for freemen being unknown—they could well afford to incur the risk of paying for perjury in order to avoid the assessment to be levied upon them in case of the conviction of their relative. In subsequent periods, when the family responsibility became weakened or disused, and the progress of civilization rendered the interests of society more complex, the custom could only be retained by making the office one not to be lightly undertaken. A man who was endeavoring to defend himself from a probable charge of murder, or who desired to confirm his possession of an estate against a competitor with a fair show of title, was expected to produce guarantees that would carry conviction to the minds of impartial men. As long as the practice existed, it was therefore necessary to invest it with every solemnity, and to guard it with penalties that would obviate some of its disadvantages.

Accordingly, we find that it was not always a matter of course for a man to clear himself in this manner. The ancient codes have frequent provisions for the fine incurred by those unable to procure the requisite number of compurgators, showing that it was an occurrence constantly kept in mind by legislators. Nor was it only landless and friendless men who were exposed to such failures. In 794, a certain Bishop Peter was condemned by the Synod of Frankfort to clear himself, with two or three conjurators, of the suspicion of being involved in a conspiracy against Charlemagne, and, small as was the number, he was unable to procure them.[187] So, in the year 1100, when the canons of Autun, at the Council of Poitiers, accused their bishop, Norgaud, of simony and other irregular practices, and he proposed to absolve himself with the compurgatorial oaths of the Archbishop of Tours and the Bishop of Rédon, the canons went privately to those prelates and threatened that in such event they would bring an accusation of perjury and prove it by the ordeal of fire, whereupon the would-be conjurators wisely abandoned their intention, and Norgaud was suspended.[188] I have already referred (p. 51) to a case before the Papal Penitentiary about 1240, in which a priest accused of homicide was put upon his purgation and failed, whereupon his bishop deprived him of function and benefice, and he hastened to Rome with a complaint that the bishop had not been impartial in the selection of compurgators. The most rigid compliance with the requisitions of the law was exacted. Thus the statutes of Nieuport, in 1163, provide a heavy penalty, and in addition pronounce condemnation, when a single one of the conjurators declines the oath.[189] It goes without saying that failure in compurgation was equivalent to conviction or confession.[190]

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[CHAPTER VII.]
DECLINE OF COMPURGATION.

In a system of which the fundamental principle was so vicious, the best efforts of legislation could prove but a slight palliation, and from an early period we find efforts made for its abrogation or limitation. In 983, a constitution of Otho II. abolished it in cases of contested estates, and substituted the wager of battle, on account of the enormous perjury which it occasioned.[191] In England, a more sweeping denunciation, declaring its abolition and replacing it with the vulgar ordeal, is found in the confused and contradictory compilation known as the laws of Henry I.[192]

We have already seen, from instances of later date, how little influence these efforts had in eradicating a custom so deeply rooted in the ancestral prejudices of all the European races. The hold which it continued to enjoy on the popular confidence is well illustrated by the oath which, according to the Romancero, was exacted of Alfonso VI. of Castile, by the Cid to clear him of suspicion of privity to the death of his brother and predecessor Sancho II. at the siege of Zamora, where he was slain by Bellido Delfos—

“Que nos fagays juramento

Qual vos lo querrán tomar,

Vos y doce de los vuesos,

Quales vos querays juntar,

Que de la muerte del Rey

Non tenedes que culpar....

Ni tampoco della os plugo,

Ni a ella distes lugar.”[193]

The same reliance on its efficacy is shown in a little ballad by Audefroi-le-Bâtard, a renowned trouvère of the twelfth century:—

LA BELLE EREMBORS.[194]

“Quand vient en mai, que l’on dit as lons jors,” etc.

In the long bright days of spring-time,

In the month of blooming May,

The Franks from royal council field

All homeward wend their way.

Rinaldo leads them onward,

Past Erembors’ gray tower,

But turns away, nor deigns to look

Up to the maiden’s bower.

Ah, dear Rinaldo!

Full in her turret window

Fair Erembors is sitting,

The love-lorn tales of knights and dames

In many a color knitting.

She sees the Franks pass onward,

Rinaldo at their head,

And fain would clear the slanderous tale

That evil tongues have spread.

Ah, dear Rinaldo!

“Sir knight, I well remember

When you had grieved to see

The castle of old Erembors

Without a smile from me.”

“Your vows are broken, princess,

Your faith is light as air,

Your love another’s, and of mine

You have nor reck nor care.”

Ah, dear Rinaldo!

“Sir knight, my faith unbroken,

On relics I will swear;

A hundred maids and thirty dames

With me the oath shall share.

I’ve never loved another,

From stain my vows are free.

If this content your doubts and fears,

You shall have kisses three.”

Ah, dear Rinaldo!

Rinaldo mounts the staircase,

A goodly knight, I ween,

With shoulders broad and slender waist,

Fair hair and blue eyes keen.

Earth holds no youth more gifted

In every knightly measure;

When Erembors beholds him,

She weeps with very pleasure.

Ah, dear Rinaldo!

Rinaldo in the turret

Upon a couch reposes,

Where deftly limned are mimic wreaths

Of violets and of roses.

Fair Erembors beside him

Sits clasped in loving hold,

And in their eyes and lips they find

The love they vowed of old!

Ah, dear Rinaldo!

In England, although as we have seen (p. 57), the wager of law was the customary resource of the manorial courts in disputed questions, the shrewd and intelligent lawyers who were building up and systematizing the practice of the royal courts were disposed to limit it as much as possible in criminal cases. Towards the close of the twelfth century, Glanville compiled his excellent little treatise “De legibus Angliæ,” the first satisfactory body of legal procedure which the history of mediæval jurisprudence affords. Complete as this is in all the forms of prosecution and defence, the allusions to conjurators are so slight as to show that already they were employed rather on collateral points than on main questions. Thus a defendant who desired to deny the serving of a writ could swear to its non-reception with twelve conjurators;[195] and a party to a suit, who had made an unfortunate statement or admission in court, could deny it by bringing forward two to swear with him against the united recollections and records of the whole court.[196] The custom, however, still maintained its hold on popular confidence. In 1194, when Richard I. undertook, after his liberation, to bring about a reconciliation between his chancellor William, Bishop of Ely, and the Archbishop of York, one of the conditions was that the chancellor should swear with a hundred priestly compurgators that he had neither caused nor desired the arrest of the archbishop.[197] In the next century Bracton alludes to the employment of conjurators in cases of disputed feudal service between a lord and his vassal, wherein the utmost exactness was rigidly required both as to the number and fitness of the conjurators,[198] and we shall see that no formal abrogation of it took place until the nineteenth century. An outgrowth of the custom, moreover, was the Inquest of Fame, by which “the general character of the accused, as found by a jury, was accepted as an indication of the guilt or innocence of the prisoner.”[199]

Soon after the time of Glanville, the system of compurgation received a severe shock from its most important patron, the church. As stated above, in proceedings between ecclesiastics, it was everywhere received as the appropriate mode of deciding doubtful cases. At the same time the absolute character of the compurgatorial oath was too strong an incentive to perjury, ignorant or wilful, for conscientious minds to reconcile themselves to the practice, and efforts commenced to modify it. About 1130 Innocent II., in prescribing compurgation for the Bishop of Trent, accused of simony, orders that the oath of the conjurators shall be simply as to their belief in the bishop’s oath.[200] Gratian inserted this in his Decretum, and a commentator soon afterwards speaks of it as an opinion held by some authorities.[201] It was reserved for Innocent III. to give this the full sanction of law as a general regulation. Compurgation was too valuable a resource for churchmen to be discarded, and he endeavored to check the abuses to which it led, by demanding conjurators of good character, whose intimacy with the accused would give weight to their oaths.[202] At the same time, in endeavoring to remove one of the objections to its use, he in reality destroyed one of its principal titles to respect, for in decreeing that compurgators should only be obliged to swear to their belief in the truth of the principal’s oath,[203] he attacked the very foundation of the practice, and gave a powerful impulse to the tendency of the times no longer to consider the compurgator as sharing the guilt or innocence of the accused. Such an innovation could only be regarded as withdrawing the guarantee which had immemorially existed. To recognize it as a legal precept was to deprive the proceeding of its solemnity and to render it no longer a security worthy the confidence of the people or sufficient to occupy the attention of a court of justice.

In the confusion arising from the long and varying contest as to the boundaries of civil and ecclesiastical jurisdiction, it is not easy to determine the exact influence which this decretal may have exercised directly in secular jurisprudence. We have seen above that the ancient form of absolute oath was still employed without change until long after this period, but the moral effect of so decided a declaration from the head of the Christian church could not but be great. Another influence, not less potent, was also at work. The revival of the study of the Roman jurisprudence, dating from about the middle of the twelfth century, soon began to exhibit the results which were to work so profound a change in the legal maxims and principles of half of Europe.[204] The criminal procedure of the Barbarians had rested to a great degree on the system of negative proofs. In the absence of positive evidence of guilt, and sometimes in despite of it, the accused was bound to clear himself by compurgation or by the ordeal. The cooler and less impassioned justice of the Roman law saw clearly the futility of such attempts, and its system was based on the indisputable maxim that it is morally impossible to prove a negative—unless, indeed, that negative should chance to be incompatible with some affirmative susceptible of evidence—and thus the onus of proof was thrown upon the accuser.[205] The civil lawyers were not long in recognizing the truth of this principle, and in proclaiming it far and wide. The Spanish code of Alfonso the Wise, in the middle of the thirteenth century, asserts it in almost the same words as the Roman jurisconsult.[206] Not long before, the Assises de Jerusalem had unequivocally declared that “nul ne peut faire preuve de non;” and Beaumanoir, in the Coutumes du Beauvoisis, approvingly quotes the assertion of the civil doctors to the same effect, “Li clerc si dient et il dient voir, que negative ne doit pas quevir en proeve.”

Abstract principles, however, though freely admitted, were not yet powerful enough to eradicate traditional customs rooted deeply in the feelings and prejudices of the age. The three bodies of law just cited contradict their own admissions, in retaining with more or less completeness the most monstrous of negative proofs—the ordeal of battle—and the introduction of torture soon after exposed the accused to the chances of the negative system in its most atrocious form. Still these codes show a marked progress as relates to the kindred procedure of compurgation. The Partidas, promulgated about 1262, record the convictions of an enlightened ruler as to what should be law rather than the existing institutions of a people, and were not accepted as authoritative until the middle of the fourteenth century. The absence of compurgation in Spain, moreover, was a direct legacy from the Wisigothic code, transmitted in regular descent through the Fuero Juzgo.[207] The Assises de Jerusalem is a more precious relic of mediæval jurisprudence. Constructed as a code for the government of the Latin kingdoms of the East, in 1099, by order of Godfrey of Bouillon, it has reached us only in the form assumed about the period under consideration, and as it presents the combined experience of the warriors of many Western races, its silence on the subject of conjurators is not a little significant. The work of Beaumanoir, written in 1283, is not only the most perfect embodiment of the French jurisprudence of his time, but is peculiarly interesting as a landmark in the struggle between the waning power of feudalism and the Roman theories which gave intensity of purpose to the enlightened centralization aimed at by St. Louis: and Beaumanoir likewise passes in silence over the practice of compurgation, as though it were no longer an existing institution. All these legislators and lawyers had been preceded by the Emperor Frederic II., who, in 1231, promulgated his “Constitutiones Sicularum” for the government of his Neapolitan provinces. Frederic was Latin, and not Teutonic, both by education and predilection, and his system of jurisprudence is greatly in advance of all that had preceded it. That conjurators should find no place in his scheme of legal procedure is, therefore, only what might be expected. The collection of laws known as the Êtablissements of St. Louis is by no means a complete code, but it is sufficiently copious to render the absence of all allusion to compurgation significant. In fact, the numerous references to the Digest show how strong was the desire to substitute the Roman for the customary law, and the efforts of the king to do away with all negative proofs of course included the one under consideration. The same may be said of the Livres de Jostice et de Plet and the Conseil of Pierre de Fontaines, two unofficial books of practice, which represent with tolerable fulness the procedures in vogue during the latter half of the thirteenth century; while the Olim, or records of the Parlement of Paris, the king’s high court of justice, show that the same principles were kept in view in the long struggle by which that body succeeded in extending the royal jurisdiction at the expense of the independence of the vainly resisting feudatories. In the Olim from 1254 to 1318, I can find but two instances in which compurgation was required—one in 1279 at Noyon, and one in 1284 at Compiègne. As innumerable decisions are given of cases in which its employment would have been equally appropriate, these two can only be regarded as exceptional, and the inference is fair that some local custom rendered it impossible to refuse the privilege on these special occasions.[208]

All these were the works of men deeply imbued with the spirit of the resuscitated jurisconsults of Rome. Their labors bear testimony rather to the influences tending to overthrow the institutions bequeathed by the Barbarians to the Middle Ages, than to a general acceptance of the innovations attempted. Their authority was still circumscribed by the innumerable jurisdictions which yet defied their gradual encroachments and resolutely maintained ancestral customs. Thus, in 1250, we find in the settlement of a quarrel between Hugues Tirel Seigneur of Poix in Picardy and the commune of that place, that one of the articles was to the effect that the mayor with thirty-nine of the bourgeois should kneel before the dame de Poix and offer to swear that an insult inflicted on her had not been done, or that if it had, it had been in honor of the Seigneur de Poix.[209] Even an occasional instance may be found where the central power itself permitted the use of compurgation, showing how difficult it was to eradicate the prejudices transmitted through ages from father to son, and that the policy adopted by St. Louis and Philippe le Bel, aided by the shrewd and energetic civil lawyers who assisted them so ably, was not in all cases adhered to. Thus, in 1283, when the bailli of Amiens was accused before the Parlement of Paris of having invaded the privileges of the church by trying three clerks accused of crime, it was decided that he should swear with six compurgators as to his ignorance that the criminals were ecclesiastics.[210] So, in 1303, a powerful noble of the court of Philippe le Bel was accused of a foul and treacherous murder, which a brother of the victim offered to prove by the wager of battle. Philippe was endeavoring to abolish the judicial duel, and the accused desired strongly to escape that ordeal. He was accordingly condemned to clear himself of the imputed crime by a purgatorial oath with ninety-nine nobles, and at the same time to satisfy the fraternal claim of vengeance with an enormous fine[211]—a decision which offers the best practical commentary on the degree of faith reposed in this system of purgation. Even the Parlement of Paris in 1353 and a rescript of Charles le Sage in 1357 allude to compurgation as still in use and of binding force.[212]

It was in the provinces, however, that the system manifested its greatest vitality, protected both by the stubborn dislike to innovation and by the spirit of independence which so long and so bitterly resisted the centralizing efforts of the crown. The Roman law concentrated all power in the person of the sovereign, and reduced his subjects to one common level of implicit obedience. The genius of the barbaric institutions and of feudalism localized power. The principles were essentially oppugnant, and the contest between them was prolonged and confused, for neither party could in all cases recognize the ultimate result of the minuter points involved, though each was fully alive to the broad issues of the struggle.

How obstinate was the attachment to bygone forms may be understood when we see even the comparatively precocious civilization of a city like Lille preserve the compurgatorial oath as a regular procedure until the middle of the fourteenth century, even though the progress of enlightenment had long rendered it a mere formality, without serious meaning. Until the year 1351, the defendant in a civil suit was obliged to substantiate the oath of denial with two conjurators of the same sex, who swore to its truth, to the best of their belief.[213] The minutest regulations were enforced as to this ceremony, the position of every finger being determined by law, and though it was the veriest formality, serving merely as an introduction to the taking of testimony and the legal examination of the case, yet the slightest error committed by either party lost him the suit irrecoverably.[214]

Normandy was even more faithful to the letter of the ancient traditions. The Coutumier in use until the revision of 1583 under Henry III. retains a remnant of the practice under the name of desrene, by which, in questions of little moment, a man could rebut an accusation with two or four compurgators, even when it was sustained by witnesses. The form of procedure was identical with that of old, and the oath, as we have already seen (page 58), was an unqualified assertion of the truth of that of the accused.[215] Practically, however, we may assume that the custom had become obsolete, for the letters patent of Henry III., ordering the revision in 1577, expressly state that the provisions of the existing laws “estoient la pluspart hors d’usage et peu ou point entendu des habitants du pays;” and that compurgation was one of the forgotten formulas may fairly be inferred from the fact that Pasquier, writing previous to 1584, speaks of it as altogether a matter of the past.[216]

The fierce mountaineers of Béarn were comparatively inaccessible to the innovating spirit of the age, and preserved their feudal independence amid the progress and reform of the sixteenth century long after it had become obsolete elsewhere throughout Southern Europe. Accordingly, we find the practice of compurgation maintained as a regular form of procedure in the latest revision of their code, made by Henry II. of Navarre in 1551, which continued in force until the eighteenth century.[217] The influence of the age is shown, however, even there, in a modification of the oath, which is no longer an unreserved confirmation of the principal, but a mere affirmation of belief.[218]

In Castile, a revival of the custom is to be found in the code compiled by Pedro the Cruel, in 1356, by which, in certain cases, the defendant was allowed to prove his innocence with the oath of eleven hidalgos.[219] This, however, is so much in opposition to the principles of the Partidas, which had but a few years previous been accepted as the law of the land, and is so contrary to the spirit of the Ordenamiento de Alcalà, which continued in force until the fifteenth century, that it can only be regarded as a tentative resuscitation of mere temporary validity.

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The Northern races resisted more obdurately the advances of the reviving influence of the Roman law. Though we have seen Frederic II. omitting all notice of compurgation in the code prepared for his Neapolitan dominions in 1231, he did not attempt to abrogate it among his German subjects, for it is alluded to in a charter granted to the city of Regensburg in 1230.[220] The Schwabenspiegel, which during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries was the municipal law of Southern Germany, directs the employment of conjurators in various classes of actions which do not admit of direct testimony.[221] The code in force in Northern Germany, as we have already seen, gave great facilities for rebutting accusations by the single oath of the defendant, and therefore the use of conjurators is but rarely referred to in the Sachsenspiegel, though it was not unknown, for either of the parties to a judicial duel could refuse the combat by procuring six conjurators to swear with him that he was related to his antagonist.[222] In the Saxon burgher law, however, the practice is frequently alluded to, and it would seem from various passages that a man of good character who could get six others to take with him the oath of denial was not easily convicted. But where there was satisfactory proof, compurgation was not allowed, and in homicide cases, if a relative of the slain decided to proceed by the duel, his claim of vengeance was supreme, and no other process was admissible.[223] It is evident, however, that compurgation retained its hold on popular respect when we see, about 1300, the Emperor Albert I. substituting it for the duel in a considerable class of criminal cases.[224] In the early part of the sixteenth century, Maximilian I. did much to diminish the use of the compurgatorial procedure,[225] but that he failed to eradicate it entirely is evident from a constitution issued by Charles V. in 1548, wherein its employment is enjoined in doubtful cases in a manner to show that it was an existing resource of the law, and that it retained its hold upon public confidence, although the conjurators were only required to swear as to their belief in the oath of their principal.[226]

In the Netherlands it likewise maintained its position. Damhouder, writing in 1554, after describing its employment in the Courts Christian, adds that by their example it was occasionally used also in secular tribunals.[227]

In Scotland, as late as the middle of the fourteenth century, its existence is proved by a statute which provides that if a thief escaped from confinement, the lord of the prison should clear himself of complicity with the evasion by the oaths of thirty conjurators, of whom three were required to be nobles.[228]

The Scandinavian nations adhered to the custom with even greater tenacity. In the code of Haco Haconsen, issued towards the close of the thirteenth century, it appears as the basis of defensive procedure in almost all criminal cases, and even in civil suits its employment is not infrequently directed, the number of conjurators being proportioned to the nature of the crime or to the amount at stake, and regulations for administering the oath being given with much minuteness.[229] In Denmark it was not abolished until near the middle of the seventeenth century, under Christiern IV., after it had become a crying abuse through the habit of members of families, and even of whole guilds, entering into formal engagements to support each other in this manner.[230] The exact date of its abrogation is a matter of uncertainty, and the stubbornness with which the people clung to it is shown by the fact that even in 1683 Christiern V., in promulgating a new code, found it necessary formally to prohibit accused persons from being forced to provide conjurators.[231] In Sweden, its existence was similarly prolonged. Directions for its use are contained in the code which was in force until the seventeenth century;[232] it is constantly alluded to in the laws of Gustavus Adolphus;[233] and an edict of Charles XI. in 1662 reproves the readiness with which men were everywhere prompt to serve as compurgators, and requires the judges, before admitting them, to investigate whether they are proper persons and what are their reasons to believe in the innocence of their principal.[234] By this time, therefore, though not yet witnesses, they were becoming assimilated to them.

The vitality of communal societies among the Slavs naturally led to the maintenance of a custom which drew its origin from the solidarity of families, and it is therefore not surprising to find it in Poland described as in full force as late as the eighteenth century, the defendant being obliged to support his purgatorial oath with conjurators, who swore as to its truth.[235] Yet among the Poles confidence in it as a legal proof had long been undermined. In 1368 Casimir III. decreed that a man of good repute, when accused of theft, could clear himself by his own oath; but if his character was doubtful, and compurgation was prescribed, then if he fell short by one conjurator of the number required, he should satisfy the accuser, though he should not be rendered infamous for the future. This led to an increase of crime, and a hundred years later Casimir IV. proclaimed a law by which compurgation was only allowed three times, after which a persistent offender was abandoned to the full severity of the law, as being presumably guilty and not deserving of escape. At the same time any one summoned to compurgation, and appearing before the judge without compurgators, was ipso facto pronounced infamous. From a case recorded it would appear that twelve conjurators were required to outweigh the single oath of the accuser.[236] Among the southern Slavs the custom was likewise preserved to a comparatively late date. An edict of Hermann, Ban of Slavonia, in 1416, orders that any noble accused of neglect to enforce a decree of proscription against a malefactor, should purge himself with five of his peers as conjurators, in default of which he was subject to a fine of twenty marcs.[237]

The constitutional reverence of the Englishman for established forms and customs, however, nominally preserved this relic of barbarism in the common law to a period later by far than its disappearance from the codes of other nations. The system of inquests and ordeals established by the Assize of Clarendon in 1166 and the rise of the jury system led to its being superseded in criminal matters, but in civil suits it held its own. According to Bracton, in the thirteenth century, in all actions arising from contracts, sales, donations, etc., when there was no absolute proof, the plaintiff came into court with his secta, and the defendant was bound to produce two conjurators for each one advanced by the plaintiff, the evidence apparently preponderating according to quantity rather than quality.[238] From the context, it would appear that the secta of the plaintiff consisted of his friends and followers willing to take the oath with him, but not absolutely witnesses. The Fleta, however, some twenty-five years later, uses the term in the sense of witnesses, and in actions of debt directs the defence to be made with conjurators double in number the plaintiff’s witnesses,[239] thus offering an immense premium on dishonesty and perjury. Notwithstanding this, the nobles and gentry who came to London to attend the court and Parliament apparently were subjected to many annoyances by the citizens who strove to collect their debts, and in 1363 Edward III. relieved them by abrogating the wholesome rule laid down by Bracton, and enacting that a debtor could wage his law with a sufficient number of conjurators in spite of any papers put forward in evidence by the creditor, who is curtly told to find his remedy in some other way.[240] The unquestionable advantages which this offered to not the least influential part of a feudal community probably had something to do with its preservation. The “Termes de la Ley,” compiled in the early part of the sixteenth century, states as the existing practice that “when one shall wage his law, he shall bring with him 6, 8, or 12 of his neighbors, as the court shall assign him, to swear with him;” and when in a statute of 1585 imposing severe fines for using wood or charcoal in iron manufacture it is provided that offenders shall not be entitled to defence by the wager of law, it shows that proceeding to be still in common use, though it was recognized as a means of eluding justice.[241] Style’s “Practical Register,” published in 1657, also describes the process, but an absurd mistake as to the meaning of the traditional expression “jurare manu” shows that the matter was rather a legal curiosity than a procedure in ordinary use; and, indeed, the author expressly states that the practice having been “abused by the iniquity of the people, the law was forced to find out another way to do justice to the nation.” Still the law remained unaltered, and a case is recorded occurring in 1708, known as Gunner’s case, where “the plaintiff became nonsuit, when the defendant was ready to perfect his law,”[242] and Jacob, in his “Review of the Statutes,” published not long after, treats of it as still part of the existing judicial processes. As the wager of law came to be limited to simple actions of debt, shrewd lawyers found means of avoiding it by actions of “trespass upon the case,” and other indirect forms which required the intervention of a jury, but Burn in his Law Dictionary (Dublin, 1792) describes the whole process with all its forms as still existing, and in 1799 a case occurred in which a defendant successfully eluded the payment of a claim by producing compurgators who “each held up his right hand, and then laid their hands upon the book and swore that they believed what the defendant swore was true.” The court endeavored to prevent this injustice, but was forced to accept the law of the land. Even this did not provoke a change. In 1824, in the case of King v. Williams (2 Barnewell & Cresswell, 528), some black-letter lawyer revived the forgotten iniquity for the benefit of a client in want of testimony, and demanded that the court should prescribe the number of conjurators necessary for the defence, but the court refused assistance, desiring to give the plaintiff the benefit of any mistake that might be made. Williams then got together eleven conjurators, and appeared in court with them at his back, when the plaintiff, recognizing the futility of any further proceedings, abandoned his case in disgust.[243] Still, the fine reverential spirit postponed the inevitable innovation, and it was not until 1833 that the wager of law was formally abrogated by 3 and 4 William IV., c. 42, s. 13.[244]

English colonists carried the ancestral custom across the sea and seem to have resorted to it as an infallible mode of settling certain cases for which no positive evidence could be had. Small as was the infant colony of Bermuda, its court records for a little more than six months show four instances of its use, all of which occur in deciding cases of “suspition of incontinency” regularly presented by the grand jury or the ecclesiastical authorities.[245]

Doubtless if the early records of Virginia and Massachusetts could be searched similar evidence of its use would be found in them. Indeed it is quite possible that, strictly speaking, the wager of law may still preserve a legal existence in this country. In 1712 an act of the Colony of South Carolina, enumerating the English laws to be held as in force there, specifically includes those relating to this mode of defence, and I am not aware that they have ever been formally abrogated.[246] In 1811 Chancellor Kilty, of Maryland, speaks of the wager of law as being totally disused in consequence of the avoidance of the forms of suit which might admit of its employment, but he evidently regards it as not then specifically abolished.[247]

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While the common sense of mankind was gradually eliminating the practice from among the recognized procedures of secular tribunals, the immutable nature of ecclesiastical observances prolonged its vitality in the bosom of the church. We have seen above that Innocent III., about the commencement of the thirteenth century, altered the form of oath from an unqualified confirmation to a mere assertion of belief in the innocence of the accused. That this at once became the standard formula in ecclesiastical cases is probable when we find it adopted for the oaths of the compurgators who, during the Albigensian persecution, were required by the nascent Inquisition in all cases to assist in the purgation of such suspected heretics as were allowed to escape so easily.[248] And this is no doubt the “congruous purgation” to which Innocent III. and Gregory IX. alluded as that by which suspected heretics should clear themselves.[249] Zealous inquisitors, however, paid little attention to such forms which allowed their victims a chance of escape, for it is related of Conrad of Marburg, who for a short time spread terror and desolation throughout Germany, that when the accused confessed he subjected them to torture and the frightful penance provided by the church, but that when they denied their guilt he sent them at once to the stake. The compurgatorial process, however, vindicated itself in a notable manner when Conrad’s cruelties at length aroused effective opposition. Count Sayn, whom he had accused, was virtually acquitted at the Council of Mainz, July, 1233, soon after which Conrad was assassinated: the count, however, required formal vindication, and at the Diet of Frankfort, in February, 1234, he cleared himself of the charge of heresy in the most imposing manner with a train of compurgators comprising eight bishops, twelve Cistercian abbots, twelve Franciscan and three Dominican monks, and a number of Benedictine abbots, clergy, and noble laymen. After this, in April, the Council of Mainz declared him and others of Conrad’s victims to be innocent and to be restored to reputation and to their possessions.[250]

The practice of compurgation thus introduced at the foundation of the Inquisition was maintained to the last by that terrible tribunal. “Our holy mother church,” says Simancas, Bishop of Badajos, a writer of the sixteenth century, “can in no way endure the suspicion of heresy, but seeks by various remedies to cure the suspect. Sometimes she forces them to abjure or to purge themselves; sometimes she elicits the truth by torture, and very often she coerces them with extraordinary punishments.” Therefore, any one whose orthodoxy was doubtful, if he was unwilling to clear himself, at the command of the judge, was held to be convicted of heresy. By the secular law he had a year’s grace before condemnation, but under the ecclesiastical law he was instantly punishable.[251]

Canonical purgation, according to the rules of the Inquisition, was indicated when public report rendered a man suspected and there was no tangible evidence against him. The number of compurgators was left to the discretion of the judge, who at the same time decided whether the deficiency of one, two, or more would amount to a condemnation. They were to be peers of the accused; and though he was allowed to select them, yet the qualification that they were to be good men and orthodox practically left their nomination to the officials—even as the customary accusation by the promotor-fiscal was held to be in itself the requisite amount of suspicion required as a condition precedent for the trial. The greater the suspicion, however, the larger was the number of compurgators to be adduced.

When the accused had chosen his men, and they were accepted by the judge, they were summoned, and each one examined separately by the Inquisitors as to his acquaintance with the defendant—a process by which, it may readily be conceived, the terrors of the Holy Office might easily be so used as to render them extremely unwilling to become his sponsors. They were then assembled together; the accused was brought in, the charge against him was read, and he took an oath denying it. Each conjurator was then taken separately and sworn as to his belief in the truth or falsity of the oath of denegation, and according as they expressed their conviction of the veracity of the accused the sentence was usually rendered, absolving or condemning him.

No process of administering compurgation can well be conceived more shrewdly adapted to reduce to a minimum the chances of acquittal, or to leave the result subject to the wishes of the officials. The testimony of the doctors of law, both civil and canon, accordingly was that it was blind, deceitful, and perilous.[252] In fact, it is easy to conceive of the difficulty of finding five, or nine, or eleven men willing to risk their lives and families by standing up in support of any one who had fallen into the grasp of the Holy Office. The terrible apprehension which the Inquisition spread abroad among all classes, and the dread which every man felt of being suspected and seized as an accomplice of heresy, are unconsciously intimated by Simancas when, arguing against this mode of trial, he observes that “the morals of mankind are so corrupt at the present day, and Christian charity has grown so cold, that it is almost impossible to find any one willing to join in clearing his neighbor, or who does not easily believe the worst of him and construe all doubtful things against him. When it is enough for the condemnation of the accused that the compurgators shall declare that they are ignorant or doubtful as to his innocence, who is there that will not express doubt when they know that he would not have been condemned to purge himself if he had not been violently suspected?” For these reasons he says that those of Moorish or Jewish stock should never be subjected to it, for it is almost impossible not to think ill of them, and, therefore, to send them to purgation is simply to send them to the stake.[253]

For all this, there was a lively discussion in the time of Simancas, whether if the accused succeeded in thus clearing himself, it was sufficient for acquittal. Many Inquisitors, indeed, held to the older practice that the accused should first be tortured, when if no confession could be forced from him he was put on his purgation; if he passed safely through this, he was then made to abjure the errors of which he had not been convicted, and after all this he was punished at the discretion of the judge.[254] Such an accumulation of injustice seems incredible, and yet Simancas feels himself obliged to enter into an elaborate discussion to prove its impropriety.

In countries where the Inquisition had not infected society and destroyed all feeling of sympathy between man and man this process of purgation was not impossible. Thus, in 1527, during one of the early persecutions of the reformers under Henry VIII., while numbers were convicted, two women, Margaret Cowbridge and Margery Bowgas, were allowed to clear themselves by compurgators, though there were several positive witnesses against them. It is also noteworthy that in these cases a portion of the compurgators were women.[255]

In the regular ecclesiastical courts the practice was maintained. When the Council of Constance, in its futile efforts at reformation, prepared an elaborate code of discipline, it proposed strenuous regulations to correct the all-pervading vice of simony. To prevent the sale of benefices this project of law decreed deprivation of all preferment as the punishment for such offences, and as transactions of the kind were commonly accomplished in secret, it ordained that common report should be sufficient for conviction; yet it nullified the regulation by permitting the accused to clear himself by canonical purgation.[256] Towards the close of the fifteenth century, Angelo da Chiavasco describes it as customary where there is no formal accuser and yet public rumor requires action, although the judge can also order it in cases of accusation: if the defendant fails of his purgation in the latter case he is to be punished as provided for his crime; if there is only rumor, then the penalty is discretional.[257] The judge determined the number of conjurators, who were all to be of good reputation and familiar with the life of the accused; if he were a monk, they ought if possible to be of the same order; they simply swore to their belief in his oath of denial.[258] A century later Lancelotti speaks of compurgation as the only mode of defence then in use in doubtful cases, where the evidence was insufficient.[259] This applied not only to cases between churchmen, but also to secular matters subject to ecclesiastical jurisdiction. Grillandus, writing about 1530, speaks of six conjurators of the kindred as the customary formula in proceedings for nullity of marriage, and mentions an instance personally known to him, wherein this procedure was successfully adopted by a wife desirous of a divorce from her husband who for three years had been rendered impotent by witchcraft, in accordance with the rules laid down in the canon law for such cases.[260] And among certain orders of monks within the last century, questions arising between themselves were settled by this mode of trial.[261]

In England, after the Anglican Church had received its final shape under Cranmer, during the reign of Edward VI., the custom appears in a carefully compiled body of ecclesiastical law, of which the formal adoption was only prevented accidentally by the untimely death of the young king. By this, a man accused of a charge resting on presumptions and incompletely proved, was required to clear himself with four compurgators of his own rank, who swore, as provided in the decretals of Innocent III., to their belief in his innocence.[262]

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[CHAPTER VIII.]
ACCUSATORIAL CONJURATORS.

Though not strictly a portion of our subject, the question is not without interest as to the power or obligation of the plaintiff or accuser to fortify his case with conjurators. There is little evidence of such a custom in primitive times, but one or two allusions to it in the Leges Barbarorum show that it was occasionally practised. Some of the earlier texts of the Salic law contain a section providing that in certain cases the complainant shall sustain his action with a number of conjurators varying with the amount at stake; a larger number is required of the defendant in reply; and it is presumable that the judges weighed the probabilities on either side and rendered a decision accordingly.[263] As this is omitted in the later revisions of the law, it probably was not widely practised, or regarded as of much importance. Among the Baioarians, a claimant of an estate produced six conjurators who took the oath with him, and whose united efforts could be rebutted by the defendant with a single competent witness.[264] These directions are so precise that there can be no doubt that the custom prevailed to a limited extent among certain tribes, and a clause in the Decree of Childebert in 597, providing that the oaths of five or seven impartial men of good character shall convict a thief or malefactor, would seem evidently to refer to conjurators and not to witnesses.[265] In the treaty between Childebert and Clotair in 593, an accuser in case of theft is obliged to give twelve conjurators, half of them selected by himself, to swear that a theft has really taken place.[266] That it was, indeed, more generally employed than the scanty references to it in the codes would indicate, may be inferred from one of the ecclesiastical forgeries which Charlemagne was induced to adopt and promulgate. According to this, no accusation against a bishop could be successful unless supported by seventy-two witnesses, all of whom were to be men of good repute; forty-four were required to substantiate a charge against a priest, thirty-seven in the case of a deacon, and seven when a member of the inferior grades was implicated.[267] Though styled witnesses in the text, the number required is so large that they evidently could have been only conjurators, with whom the complainant supported his oath of accusation, and the fabrication of such a law would seem to show that the practice of employing such means of substantiating a charge was familiar to the minds of men.

Among the heathen Northmen, as we have seen, every pleader, whether plaintiff or defendant, was obliged to take a preliminary oath on the sacred stalla hringr, or altar ring, duly bathed in the blood of an ox sacrificed for the purpose. This custom was preserved in England, where the Anglo-Saxon laws required, except in trivial cases, a “fore-oath” from the accuser (forath, antejuramentum, præjuramentum), and William the Conqueror, in his compilation of the laws of Edward the Confessor, shows that this was sometimes strengthened by requiring the addition of conjurators, who were in no sense witnesses, since their oath had reference, not to the facts of the case, but solely to the purity of intention on the part of the accuser.[268] Indications of the same procedure are to be found in the collection known as the laws of Henry I.[269] Probably to the development of this may be attributed the peculiar device of the secta already referred to (p. 84), consisting of those who supported the plaintiff by their oaths while in no sense absolute witnesses. They were not even examined unless the defendant demanded it. The bringing of the secta or suit remained a matter of form long after the actual production of the witnesses had become obsolete in the fourteenth century, and it was not finally abolished until 1852.[270]

In an age of comparative simplicity, it is natural that men should turn rather to the guarantees of individual character, or to the forms of venerable superstition, than to the subtleties of legal procedure. Even as the defendant was expected to produce vouchers of his truthfulness, so might the plaintiff be equally required to give evidence that his repute among his neighbors was such as to justify the belief that he would not bring a false charge or advance an unfounded claim. The two customs appear to arise from the same process of reasoning and to be identical in spirit, leading to a contest between the two parties as to which could bring forward the largest and most credible number of conjurators, and the position of the accused being outsworn was a recognized circumstance in jurisprudence. Thus, the Council of Tribur in 895 provides that in such case he must either confess or undergo the ordeal.[271] In process of time accusatorial conjurators became commonly used in many places. In Béarn the laws of the thirteenth century provide that in cases of debt under forty sous, where there was no testimony on either side, the claimant could substantiate his case by bringing forward one conjurator, while the defendant could rebut it with two.[272] A similar rule obtained in England in all actions arising from contracts and sales;[273] and in the laws of Soest in Westphalia, compiled at the end of the eleventh or the commencement of the twelfth century, an accusation of homicide could be proved by six conjurators swearing with the prosecutor, while if this failed the accused could then clear himself with eleven compurgators.[274] Throughout Germany, in the thirteenth century, we find the principle of accusing conjurators generally received, as is evident from the juramentum supermortuum already referred to, and other provisions of the municipal law.[275] So thoroughly, indeed, was this established that, in some places, in prosecutions for highway robbery, arson, and other crimes, the accuser had a right to require every individual in court, from the judge to the spectator, to help him with an oath or to swear that he knew nothing of the matter, and even the attorney for the defendant was obliged to undergo the ceremony.[276] In Sweden it was likewise in use under the name of jeff niteed;[277] and in the compilation of the laws by Andreas, Archbishop of Lunden, in the thirteenth century, there is a curious provision for cases of secret murder by which the accuser could force nine men successively to undergo the hot-iron ordeal, after which, if thus far unsuccessful, he could still force a tenth man to trial on producing twelve conjurators to swear to the guilt of the accused—these conjurators, in case of acquittal, being each liable to a fine of three marks to the accused and as much to the church.[278] In Norway and Iceland, in certain cases of imputed crime, the accuser was bound to produce ten companions, of whom eight appeared simply as supporters, while two swore that they had heard the offence spoken of, but that they knew nothing about it of their own knowledge—the amount of weight attached to which asseveration is shown by the fact that the accused required only two conjurators to clear himself.[279]

Perhaps the most careful valuation of the oath of a plaintiff is to be found in the Coutumier of Bordeaux, which provides that, in civil cases not exceeding four sols in amount, the claimant should substantiate his case by an oath on the Gospels in the Mayor’s Court; when from four to twenty sols were at stake, he was sworn on the altar of St. Projet or St. Antoine; from twenty sols to fifteen livres, the oath was taken in the cemetery of St. Seurin, while for amounts above that sum it was administered on the “Fort” or altar of St. Seurin himself. Persons whose want of veracity was notorious were obliged in all cases, however unimportant, to swear on the Fort, and had moreover to provide a conjurator who with an oath of equal solemnity asserted his belief in the truth of his companion.[280]

The custom of supporting an accusatorial oath by conjurators was maintained in some portions of Europe to a comparatively recent period. Wachter[281] prints a curious account of a trial, occurring in a Suabian court in 1505, which illustrates this, as well as the weight which was still attached to the oath of a defendant. A woman accused three men on suspicion of being concerned in the murder of her husband. They denied the charge, but when the oath of negation was tendered to them, with the assurance that, if they were Suabians, it would acquit them, they demanded time for consideration. Then the advocate of the widow stepped forward to offer the oath of accusation, and two conjurators being found willing to support him the accused were condemned without further examination on either side. A similar process was observed in the Vehmgericht, or Court of the Free Judges of Westphalia, whose jurisdiction in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries became extended over the whole of Germany. Accusations were supported by conjurators, and when the defendant was a Frei-graff, or presiding officer of a tribunal, the complainant was obliged to procure seven Frei-schöppen, or free judges, to take the accusatorial oath with him.[282]

The latest indication that I have met with of established legal provisions of this nature occurs in the custom of Britanny, as revised in 1539. By this, a man claiming compensation for property taken away is to be believed on oath as to his statement of its value, provided he can procure companions worthy of credence to depose “qu’ils croyent que le jureur ait fait bon et loyal serment.”[283] Even this last vestige disappears in the revision of the Coutumier made by order of Henry III. in 1580.

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[II.]
THE WAGER OF BATTLE.