Domesday Book and Beyond: Three Essays in the Early History of England

by Frederic William Maitland

No doubt the theory to which we have been led implies that in the eighth or even in the seventh century, there were in England ‘immunists’ who had jurisdiction within their territories, and further it implies that a royal grant of land in the ninth and tenth centuries generally included, and this as a matter of ‘common form,’ a grant of jurisdiction. We cannot see either in the history of England or in the history of the Frankish Empire any reason why we should shrink from these conclusions. Further, it must be admitted that if the clause of immunity conveys, or permits the growth of, seignorial jurisdiction, this jurisdiction is of an exalted kind, for no causes are excepted out of it, unless it be by the words about the ángild, and even those words drop out from the charters in course of time. Those words about the ángild imply, to our thinking, that the immunist will have jurisdiction over any dispute which arises between two men of the enfranchised territory, and also that if an action against one of these men be brought by a ‘foreigner’ in a court outside the precinct, the immunist can obtain ‘cognizance’ of the action by appearing in that court and paying the ángild. When the words about the ángild disappear, this means that the immunist is obtaining a yet further measure of ‘liberty’:—whenever one of his men is sued he can ‘crave his court’ and need not, as a condition for obtaining it, offer to pay what is due to the plaintiff. The highest criminal jurisdiction was probably excepted from the grant. Being a grant of wites, it will not extend to the ‘bootless’ the ‘unemendable’ crimes. But Cnut’s attempt to save for himself certain pleas of the crown looks to us like the effort of a strong king to recover what his predecessors have been losing[997]. And then Cnut himself and the Confessor,—the latter with reckless liberality—expressly grant to the churches just those very reserved pleas of the crown. The result is that the well endowed immunist of S^t. Edward’s day has jurisdiction as high as that which any palatine earl of after ages enjoyed. No crime, except possibly some direct attack upon the king’s person, property or retainers, was too high for him. It is the reconstruction of criminal justice in Henry II.’s time, the new learning of felonies, the introduction of the novel and royal procedure of indictment, that reduce the immunist’s powers and leave him with nothing better than an unintelligible list of obsolete words[998]. In this matter of seignorial justice England had little to learn from Normandy. On the contrary, the Norman counts and barons were eager to secure the uncouth phrases which gave to the English immunist his justice, ‘haute, moyenne et basse justice.’

Justice, vassalage and tenure.

Our next question must be whether in the days before the Conquest a franchise or immunity was the only root of private jurisdiction: in other words, whether any jurisdiction was implied in the mere relation between lord and man or between lord and tenant. This also is a question which will hardly be finally answered if regard be had only to the English documents. For France it is the question whether the senior, as such, has jurisdiction over his vassus, or again, whether he has jurisdiction over his vassus if, as is usually the case in the Carlovingian age, the vassus holds a beneficium given to him by his senior. The English dooms which deal with what we may call the justiciary relationship between lord and man closely resemble in many respects the Frankish capitularies which touch the same subject; both sets of documents seem to evade the simple question that we put to them. But as regards the continent it may here be enough to say that, though there have been many debates, the current of learning seems to have set decidedly in favour of the doctrine that neither in Merovingian nor yet in Carlovingian times had the senior, unless he was an immunist, a jurisdiction over his men. Such a jurisdiction has not been developed when the midnight hides everything from our view. When the morning comes, feudal justice stands revealed, though nowhere perhaps is it governed by that simple principle that ultimately prevailed in England, namely, that any and every lord, no matter his personal rank or the rank of his tenement, has civil justice over his tenants.

The lord’s duty when his man is accused.

The possibility of debate about this matter is afforded by texts of an earlier age, which at times seem to speak of the lord as ‘doing justice’ when a charge is brought against any of his men[999]. Our English run parallel with the Frankish texts. The state in its organization of justice and police does not treat the contract between man and lord, between senior and vassus, as a matter of indifference, still less as a danger to society. We must not think of feudalism or vassalism as of something which from the very first is anti-national and anarchic. In its earliest stages it is fostered by the state, by the king, by national law. The state demands that the lordless man of whom no right can be had shall have a lord[1000]. It makes the lord responsible for the appearance of his men in court to answer accusations[1001]. It is not unlikely that the whole system of frankpledge grows out of this requirement. In some instances the state may go further; it may treat the lord, not merely as bound to produce his man, but as responsible for his man’s evil deeds. But, at all events, any one who has a charge to make against a lord’s man must in the first instance demand justice of the lord. If without making such a demand, making it repeatedly, he brings the charge before the king, he must pay the same fine that the lord would have paid had he been guilty of a default of justice[1002]. ‘Of a default of justice’ we say and are compelled to say. It is phrases such as this that have occasioned controversy. To an ear attuned to the language of feudalism they seem to imply a seignorial court in which the lord ‘does justice’ or ‘holds full right’ to the demandant. But to all appearance they have gradually changed their meaning. Originally a lord ‘does right’ to the demandant by producing in a public court the man against whom the claim is urged; or he does it by satisfying the claim, and in that case he seems entitled to exact from his man, not merely a sum which will compensate the outlay, but also the ‘wite’ or fine which in another case would have gone to the king or some national officer. He has thus ‘done justice’ and may have the usual profit that comes of doing justice. Probably we ought to distinguish between a laxer and a stricter measure of responsibility, between the lord’s responsibility for his men in general and his responsibility for such of his men as form his familia, in the language of later days his mainpast; but our texts do not lay much stress upon this distinction, and, as a matter of remote history, the relation between lord and man may grow out of the relation between the head of a household and the members of it[1003].

Duty of the lord.

At any rate, in numberless cases the law begins to interpose a third person, namely, the wrong-doer’s lord, between the wrong-doer and the wronged: it is to this lord that the claimant should in the first instance address himself. The lord who does his duty by the king and the nation is he who keeps a tight hold on his men, who chooses them carefully, who dismisses them if they are bad subjects, who ‘does justice’ and ‘holds full right’ if any of them be accused. Then, on the other hand, he has the right and duty of ‘warranting’ his men. If, as will often happen, the bond between a lord and his man is complicated with the bond between landlord and tenant, then, as in later days, if the tenant’s title be impeached, he will vouch his lord to warranty and the lord will defend the action. But, besides this, within limits that are not well defined, the lord is the man’s defensor or tutor[1004]. It is expected of him by morality, if not by law, that he will take upon himself the responsibility for his man’s acts if they be not open crimes. He must stand by his men and see them through all trouble[1005].

The state requires the lord to ‘do right.’

For a while the state approves all this. The dangerous person is, not the lord, whose wide lands are some security for his good behaviour, but the lordless man of whom no right can be had. Somehow or another theft must be suppressed. This is the determination of our strongest kings, of our wisest ‘witan.’ That they are raising up over against the state another power, the power of seignorial justice, they do not see. And, after all, these ‘witan’ both laymen and clerks are themselves great lords, and the king is the lordliest of them all. Thus the foundation for a feudal jurisdiction is laid. Still between the lord’s duty of producing his men and his right to hold a court of and for his men there is to our eyes a great gulf. We have seen above that this gulf had not been bridged even in the Confessor’s, even in the Conqueror’s day[1006]. Nor to our thinking would it have been bridged but for the creation of ‘immunities’ upon a grand scale. The first origin of the immunity we have sought in the efforts of the clergy to obtain lands which should be utterly exempt from ‘all earthly burdens,’ ‘all worldly business.’ But this effort unites with the stream of tendency that we have now been watching. The state will be grateful to the church if it will ‘hold all the men of God to right’ and do judgment between them and upon them.

The land-ríca as immunist.