The villein’s land and the geld.
Still we take it that for one most important purpose the villein’s land is the lord’s land:—the lord must answer for the geld that is due from it. Not that the burden falls ultimately on the lord. On the contrary, it is not unlikely that he makes his villeins pay the geld that is due from his demesne land; it is one of their services that they must ‘defend their lord’s inland’ against the geld. But over against the state the lord represents as well the land of his villeins as his own demesne land. From the great levy of 1084 the demesne lands of the barons had been exempted[176], but no doubt they had been responsible for the tax assessed on the lands held by their villani. We much doubt whether the collectors of the geld went round to the cottages of the villeins and demanded here six pence and there four pence; they presented themselves at the lord’s hall and asked for a large sum. Nay, we believe that very often a perfectly free tenant paid his geld to his lord, or through his lord[177]. Hence arrangements by which some hides were made to acquit other hides; such, for example, was the arrangement at Tewkesbury; there were fifty hides which had to acquit the whole ninety-five hides from all geld and royal service[178]. And then it might be that the lord, enjoying a special privilege, was entitled to take the geld from his tenants and yet paid no geld to the king; thus did the canons of St. Petroc in Cornwall[179] and the monks of St. Edmund in Suffolk[180]. But as regards lands occupied by villeins, the king, so it seems to us, looks for his geld to the lord and he does not look behind the lord. This is no detail of a fiscal system. A potent force has thus been set in motion. He who pays for land,—it is but fair that he should be considered the owner of that land. We have a hint of this principle in a law of Cnut:—‘He who has “defended” land with the witness of the shire, is to enjoy it without question during his life and on his death may give or sell it to whom he pleases[181].’ We have another hint of this principle in a story told by Heming, the monk of Worcester:—in Cnut’s time but four days of grace were given to the landowner for the payment of the geld; when these had elapsed, anyone who paid the geld might have the land[182]. It is a principle which, if it is applied to the case of lord and villein, will attribute the ownership of the land to the lord and not to the villein.
The villein’s services.
And then we would ask: What services do the villeins render? A deep silence answers us, and as will hereafter be shown, there are many reasons why we should not import the information given us by the monastic cartularies, even such early cartularies as the Black Book of Peterborough, into the days of the Confessor. No doubt the villeins usually do some labour upon the lord’s demesne lands. In particular they help to plough it. A manor, we can see, is generally so arranged that the ratio borne by the demesne oxen to the demesne land will be smaller than that borne by the villeins’ oxen to the villeins’ land. Thus, to give one example out of a hundred, in a Somersetshire manor the lord has four hides and three teams, the villeins have two hides and three teams[183]. But then the lord gets some help in his agriculture from those who are undoubtedly free tenants. The teams of the free tenants are often covered by the same phrase that covers the teams of the villeins[184]. Radknights who are liberi homines plough and harrow at the lord’s court[185]. The very few entries which tell us of the labour of the villeins are quite insufficient to condemn the whole class to unlimited, or even to very heavy work. On a manor in Herefordshire there are twelve bordiers who work one day in the week[186]. On the enormous manor of Leominster there are 238 villani and 85 bordarii. The villani plough and sow with their own seed 140 acres of their lord’s land and they pay 11 pounds and 52 pence[187]. On the manor of Marcle, which also is in Herefordshire, there are 36 villani and 10 bordarii with 40 teams. These villani plough and sow with their own seed 80 acres of wheat and 71 of oats[188]. At Kingston, yet another manor in the same county, ‘the villani who dwelt there in King Edward’s day carried venison to Hereford and did no other service, so says the shire[189].’ On one Worcestershire manor of Westminster Abbey 10 villeins and 10 bordiers with 6 teams plough 6 acres and sow them with their own seed; on another 8 villeins and 6 bordiers with 6 teams do the like by 4 acres[190]. This is light work. Casually we are told of burgesses living at Tamworth who have to work like the other villeins of the manor of Drayton to which they are attached[191], and we are told of men on a royal manor who do such works for the king as the reeve may command[192]; but, curiously enough, it is not of any villeins but of the Bishop of Worcester’s riding men (radmanni) that it is written ‘they do whatever is commanded them[193].’
Money rents paid by villeins.
With our thirteenth century cartularies before us, we might easily underrate the amount of money that was already being paid as the rent of land at the date of the Conquest. In several counties we come across small groups of censarii, censores, gablatores who pay for their land in money, of cervisarii and mellitarii who bring beer and honey. Renders in kind, in herrings, eels, salmon are not uncommon, and sometimes they are ‘appreciated,’ valued in terms of money. The pannage pig or the grass swine, which the villeins give in return for mast and herbage, is often mentioned. Throughout Sussex it seems to be the custom that the lord should have ‘for herbage’ one pig from every villein who has seven pigs[194]. But money will be taken instead of swine, oxen or fish[195]. The gersuma, the tailla, the theoretically free gifts of the tenants, are sums of money. But often enough the villanus is paying a substantial money rent. We have seen how at Leominster villeins plough and sow 140 acres for their lord and pay a rent of more than £11[196]. At Lewisham in Kent the Abbot of Gand has a manor valued at £30; of this £2 is due to the profits of the port while two mills with ‘the gafol of the rustics’ bring in £8. 12s.[197] Such entries as the following are not uncommon—there is one villein rendering 30d.[198]—there is one villein rendering 10s.[199]—46 cotarii with one hide render 30 shillings a year[200]—the villeins give 13s. 4d. by way of consuetudo[201]. No doubt it would be somewhat rare to find a villein discharging all his dues in money—this is suggested when we are told how on the land of St. Augustin one Wadard holds a large piece ‘de terra villanorum’ and yet renders no service to the abbot save 30s. a year[202]. At least in one instance the villeins seem to be holding the manor in farm, that is to say, they are farming the demesne land and paying a rent in money or in provender[203]. We dare not represent the stream of economic history as flowing uninterruptedly from a system of labour services to a system of rents. We must remember that in the Conqueror’s reign the lord very often had numerous serfs whose whole time was given to the cultivation of his demesne. In the south-western counties he will often have two, three or more serfs for every team that he has on his demesne, and, while this is so, we can not safely say that his husbandry requires that the villeins should be labouring on his land for three or four days in every week.
The English for villanus.
As a last question we may ask: What was the English for villanus? It is a foreign word, one of those words which came in with the Conqueror. Surely, we may argue, there must have been some English equivalent for it. Yet we have the greatest difficulty in finding the proper term. True that in the Quadripartitus and the Leges villanus generally represents ceorl; ceorl when it is not rendered by villanus is left untranslated in some such form as cyrliscus homo. But then ceorl must be a wider word than the villanus of Domesday Book, for it has to cover all the non-noble free men; it must comprehend the numerous sochemanni and liberi homines of northern and eastern England. This in itself is not a little remarkable; it makes us suspect that some of the lines drawn by Domesday Book are by no means very old; they can not be drawn by any of those terms that have been current in the Anglo-Saxon dooms or which still are current in the text-books that lawyers are compiling. To suppose that villanus is equivalent to gebúr is impossible; we have the best warrant for saying that the Latin for gebúr is not villanus but colibertus[204]. Nor can we hold that the villanus is a geneat. In the last days of the old English kingdom the geneat, the ‘companion,’ the ‘fellow,’ appears as a horseman who rides on his lord’s errands; we must seek him among the radmanni and rachenistres and drengi of Domesday Book[205]. We shall venture the guess that when the Norman clerks wrote down villanus, the English jurors had said túnesman. As a matter of etymology the two words answer to each other well enough; the villa is the tún, and the men of the villa are the men of the tún. In the enlarged Latin version of the laws of Cnut, known as Instituta Cnuti, there is an important remark:—tithes are to be paid both from the lands of the thegn and from the lands of the villeins—‘tam de dominio liberalis hominis, id est þegenes, quam de terra villanorum, id est tuumannes (corr. tunmannes)[206].’ Then in a collection of dooms known as the Northumbrian Priests’ Law there is a clause which orders the payment of Peter’s pence. If a king’s thegn or landlord (landrica) withholds his penny, he must pay ten half-marks, half to Christ, half to the king; but if a túnesman withholds it, then let the landlord pay it and take an ox from the man[207]. A very valuable passage this is. It shows us how the lord is becoming responsible for the man’s taxes: if the tenant will not pay them, the lord must. It is then in connexion with this responsibility of the lord that the term townsman meets us, and, if we mistake not, it is the lord’s responsibility for geld that is the chief agent in the definition of the class of villani. The pressure of taxation, civil and ecclesiastical, has been forming new social strata, and a new word, in itself a vague word, is making its way into the vocabulary of the law[208].
Summary.
The class of villeins may well be heterogeneous. It may well contain (so we think) men who, or whose ancestors, have owned the land under a political supremacy, not easily to be distinguished from landlordship, that belongs to the king; and, on the other hand, it may well contain those who have never in themselves or their predecessors been other than the tenants of another man’s soil. In some counties on the Welsh march there are groups of hospites who in fact or theory are colonists whom the lord has invited onto his land[209]; but this word, very common in France, is not common in England. Our record is not concerned to describe the nature or the origin of the villein’s tenure; it is in quest of geld and of the persons who ought to be charged with geld, and so it matters not whether the lord has let land to the villein or has acquired rights over land of which the villein was once the owner. Therefore we lay down no broad principle about the rights of the villein, but we have suggested that taken in the mass the villani of the Confessor’s reign were far more ‘law-worthy’ than were the villani of the thirteenth century. We can not treat either the legal or the economic history of our peasantry as a continuous whole; it is divided into two parts by the red thread of the Norman Conquest. That is a catastrophe. William might do his best to make it as little of a catastrophe as was possible, to insist that each French lord should have precisely the same rights that had been enjoyed by his English antecessor; it may even be that he endeavoured to assure to those who were becoming villani the rights that they had enjoyed under King Edward[210]. Such a task, if attempted, was impossible. We hear indeed that the English ‘redeemed their lands,’ but probably this refers only to those English lords, those thegns or the like, who were fortunate enough to find that a ransom would be accepted[211]. We have no warrant for thinking that the peasants, the common ‘townsmen,’ obtained from the king any covenanted mercies. They were handed over to new lords, who were very free in fact, if not in theory, to get out of them all that could be got without gross cruelty.