Anglo-Saxon writs.
But to represent this as a contrast between English instruments and Norman or French instruments would be a mistake. In the first place, we have a few documents in writ-form that are older than the days of the Norman-hearted Edward. As already said, we have a writ from Cnut and it has all those features of Edward’s writs which have been considered distinctively foreign. We have another writ from the same king. The king addresses Archbishop Lyfing, Abbot Ælfmær, Æthelric the shireman ‘and all my thegns twelvehinde and twihinde.’ He tells them that he has confirmed the archbishop’s liberties and threatens with the pains of hell any one who infringes them[946]. We have a writ from Æthelred the Unready, and a remarkable writ it is. He addresses Ælfric the ealdorman, Wulfmær and Æthelweard and all the thegns in Hampshire and tells them how he has confirmed the liberties of bishop Ælfheah and how large tracts of land are to be reckoned as but one hide—an early example of ‘beneficial hidation[947].’ Secondly, the solemn charter with its invocation, its pious harangue, its dispositive words, its religious sanction, its numerous crosses, its crowd of attesting and consenting witnesses, was in use in Normandy before and after the conquest of England. Thirdly, the Norman kings of England used it upon occasion. Much they did by writ. The vast tracts of land that they had at their disposal would naturally favour the conciser form; but some of the religious houses thought it well to obtain genuine land-books of the old English, and (we must add) of the old Frankish type. The king’s seal was not good enough for them; they would have the king’s cross and the crosses of his wife, sons, prelates and barons. The ultimately complete victory of what we have called the writ-form over what we have called the charter-form may perhaps be rightly described as a result of the Conquest, an outcome, that is, of the strong monarchy founded by William of Normandy and consolidated by Henry of Anjou, but it can not be rightly described as the victory of a French form over an English form; and a very similar change was taking place in the chancery of the French kings[948].
Sake and soke appear when writs appear.
We may say then that the appearance of words clearly and indisputably conceding jurisdictional rights is contemporaneous with the appearance of a new class of diplomata, namely royal writs as contrasted with royal charters or land-books. We may add that it is contemporaneous with the appearance of royal diplomata couched in the vernacular language. This may well lead us to two speculations. In the first place, is it not very possible that many ancient writs have been lost? The writ was a far less solemn instrument than the land-book, and it is by no means certain that the writs of the Confessor were intended to serve as title-deeds or to come to the custody of those for whose benefit they were issued. King Edward greets the bishop of London, Earl Harold, the sheriff and all the thegns of Middlesex and tells them how he has given land to St. Peter and the monks of Westminster, and how he wills that they enjoy their sake and soke. The original document is presented to the bishop, the earl, or the sheriff (to all of them perhaps as they sit in their shire moot) and we can not be certain that after this the monks ought to have that document in their possession, that it ought not to be kept by the sheriff, or perhaps returned to the king with an indorsement expressive of obedience. Many hundred writs must King William have issued in favour of his barons—this is plain from Domesday Book—and what would we not give for a dozen of them? Secondly, it is well worth notice that ‘sake and soke’ begin to appear so soon as royal diplomata written in English become common, and when we observe the formulas which enshrine these words we find some difficulty in believing that such formulas are new or foreign. Let us listen to one.
saca and socne
toll and team
griðbrice and hamsocne
and foresteal
and alle oðre gerihte
inne tid and ut of tide