We have been suggesting and shall continue to suggest that at a very early time, a time beyond which our land-books will not carry us, the king is beginning to discover that the whole land which he rules is in a certain and a profitable sense his land. He can give it away; he can barter it in exchange for spiritual benefits, and this he can do without wronging the free landholders who are in possession of that land, for what he really gives is the dues (it is too early to say the ‘service’) that they have owed to him and will henceforth owe to his donee. Let us remember that his successors will undoubtedly be able to do this. In a certain sense, Henry II., for example, will have all England to give away. If we were to put an extreme case, we might have to reckon with possible rebellions; but every single hide of England Henry can give without wronging any one. Suppose that C has been holding a tract as the king’s tenant in chief by service worth £5 a year, Henry can make a grant of that land to B, and by this grant C will not be wronged. Henceforth C will hold of B, and B of the king. Suppose that, on the occasion of this grant, services worth £2 a year are reserved, then the king has it in his power to grant the land yet once more: to grant it, let us say, to the Abbot of A, who is to hold in frankalmoin; C will not be wronged, B will not be wronged. What the king has done with one hide he can do with every hide in England; piece by piece he can give all England away. We have been suggesting and shall continue to suggest that at a very early time, even in the first days of English Christianity, the king is beginning to discover that he has some such power as that which his successors will exercise. This barbarous chieftain learns that his political sway over the folk involves a proprietary and alienable element of which he can make profit. It involves a right to feorm and a right to wites. The beef and the cheese and the Welsh ale that he might have levied from a district he invests, if we may so speak, in what he is being taught to regard as the safest and most profitable of all securities. He obtains not only remission of his sins, but also the friendship and aid of bishops and clergy. And so large stretches of land are ‘booked’ to the churches. It is to be feared that if the England of the sixth century had been visited by modern Englishmen, the Saxon chieftains would have been awakened to a consciousness of their ‘booking’ powers by offers of gin and rifles.
Book-land and church right.
In its original form and when put to its original purpose the land-book is no mere deed of gift; it is a dedication. Under the sanction of a solemn anathema, a tract of land is devoted to the service of God. A very full power of disposing of it is given to the bishop or the abbot, who is God’s servant. As yet the law has none of those subtle ideas which in after ages will enable it to treat him as ‘a corporation sole’ or as ‘a trustee,’ nor can the folk-law meddle much with the affairs of God. The bishop or abbot must be able to leave the land to whom he pleases, to institute an heir. Thus ‘book-land’ stands, as it were, outside the realm of the folk-law. In all probability the folk-law of this early period knows no such thing as testamentary power. Testamentary power can only be created by the words of a book, by an anathema. But laymen are not slow to see that they can make use of this new institution for purposes of their own, which are not always very pious purposes. By a pretext that he is going to construct a minster, a man will obtain a book garnished with the crosses of bishops. One day calling himself an abbot and the next day calling himself a king’s thegn, a layman among ecclesiastics, an ecclesiastic among laymen, he will shirk all duties that are owed to state and church. Already Bede complains of this in a wise and famous letter. He advocates a resumption of these inconsiderate and misplaced gifts, and reproves the prelates for subscribing the books[899]. His letter may have done good; but laymen still obtained books which authorized them to hold land ‘by church right.’ Thus Offa of Mercia gave to an under-king lands at Sedgebarrow ‘in such wise that he might have them during his life, and in exercise of full power might leave them to be possessed by church right[900].’ Thereupon the subregulus, as a modern English lawyer might say, executed this power of appointment in favour of the church of Worcester. The same Offa gave land to his thegn Dudda so that by church right he might enjoy it during his life and leave it on his death to whom he would[901]
Book-land and testament.
We must wait for a later age before we shall find the kings freely booking lands to their thegns without any allusion to ecclesiastical purposes. Indeed it may be said that the Anglo-Saxon land-book never ceases to be an ecclesiastical instrument. True that in the tenth century the kings are booking lands to their thegns with great liberality; true also that there is no longer any pretence that the land so booked will go to endow a church; but let us observe these books and let us not ignore the recitals that they contain. Why does the king make these grants? He says that it is because he hopes for an eternal reward in the everlasting mansions. This has perhaps become an empty phrase: but it has a history. Also it is needed in order to make the deed a logical whole. Let us observe the sequence of the clauses:—‘Whereas the fashion of this world passeth away but the joys of heaven are eternal; therefore I give land to my thegn so that he may enjoy it during his life and leave it on his death to whomsoever he pleases, and if any one shall come against this charter may he perish for ever; I have confirmed this gift with the sign of Christ’s holy cross[902].’ Some piety in the harangue (arenga) is necessary in order to lead up to the anathema and the cross; it justifies the intervention of the bishops, who also will make crosses and thereby will be denouncing the church’s ban against any one who violates the charter. And who, we may ask, is likely to violate the charter? The donee’s kinsfolk may be tempted to do this if the donee makes use of that testamentary power which has been granted to him (as, for instance, by leaving the land to a church) more especially because it may be very doubtful whether in impeaching such a testament they will not have the folk-law on their side. Such in brief outline is—so we think—the history of book-land. It is land (or rather in many cases a superiority) held by royal privilege[903] under the sanction of the anathema.
§ 2. Book-land and Folk-land.
What is folk-land?
With ‘book-land’ is contrasted ‘folk-land.’ Therefore of folk-land a few words must be said. What is folk-land? A few years ago the answer that historians gave to this question was this: It is the land of the folk, the land belonging to the folk. Dr Vinogradoff has argued that this is not the right answer[904]. His argument has convinced us; but, as it is still new, we will take leave to repeat it with some few additions of our own.
Folk-land in the texts.