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

by Frederic William Maitland

In the first place, it has a right to the feorm, the pastus or victus that the king has hitherto exacted. We should be wrong in thinking that in the ninth century (whatever may have been the case in earlier times) this exaction was a small matter. In 883 Æthelred ealdorman of the Mercians with the consent of King Alfred freed the lands of Berkeley minster from such parts of the king’s gafol or feorm as had until then been unredeemed. In return for this he received twelve hides of land and thirty mancuses of gold, and then in consideration of another sixty mancuses of gold he proceeded to grant a lease of these twelve hides for three lives[1101]. The king had been deriving a revenue from this land ‘in clear ale, in beer, in honey, in cattle, in swine and in sheep.’ In Domesday Book a ‘one night’s farm’ is no trifle; it is all that the king gets from large stretches of his demesne[1102]. Having become entitled to this royal right, the church would proceed to make some new settlement with the villagers. Perhaps it would stipulate for a one night’s farm for the monks, that is to say, for a provender-rent capable of supporting the convent for a day. In the middle of the ninth century a day’s farm of the monks of Canterbury comprised forty sesters of ale, sixty loaves, a wether, two cheeses and four fowls, besides other things[1103]. When once a village is charged in favour of a lord with a provender-rent of this kind, the lord’s grip upon the land may easily be tightened. A settlement in terms of bread and beer is not likely to be stable. Some change in circumstances will make it inconvenient to all parties and the stronger bargainer will make the best of the new bargain. The church will be a strong bargainer for it has an inexhaustible treasure-house upon which to draw. We, however, concerned with legal ideas, have merely to notice that the law will give free play to social, economic and religious forces which are likely to work in the lord’s favour.

Provender rents and the manorial economy.

But a village charged with a ‘provender-rent’ may seem far enough removed from the typical manor of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. In the one we see the villagers cultivating each for his own behoof and supplying the lord at stated seasons with a certain quantity of victuals; in the other the villagers spend a great portion of their time in tilling the lord’s demesne land. In the latter case the lord himself appears as an agriculturist: in the former he is no agriculturist, but merely a receiver of rent. The gulf may seem wide; but it is not impassable. One part, the last part, of a process which surmounts it is visible. In the eleventh and twelfth centuries the lords, though they have much land in demesne, still reckon the whole or part of what they are to receive from each manor in terms of ‘farms’; the king gets a one night’s farm from this manor, the convent of Ramsey gets a fortnight’s farm from that manor[1104]. But we can conceive how the change begins. The monks are not going to travel, as a king may have travelled, from village to village feasting at the expense of the folk. They are going to live in their monastery; they want a regular supply of victuals brought to them. They must have an overseer in the village, one who will look to it that the bread and beer are sent off punctually and are good. In the village over which they already have a superiority they acquire a manse of their very own, a mansus indominicatus as their foreign brethren would call it. When once they are thus established in the village, piety and other-worldliness will do much towards increasing their demesne and strengthening their position[1105].

The church and the peasants.

We have argued above that in the first instance it was not by means of the petty gifts of private persons that the churches amassed their wide territories. The starting point is the alienation of a royal superiority. Still there can be little doubt that the small folk were just as careful of their souls as were their rulers. They make gifts to the church. Moreover, the gift is likely to create a dependent tenure. They want to give, and yet they want to keep, for their land is their livelihood. They surrender the land to the church: but then they take it back again as a life-long loan. Thus the church has no great difficulty about getting demesne. But further, it gets dependent tenants and a dependent tenure is established. Like enough on the death of the donor his heirs will be suffered to hold what their ancestor held. Very possibly the church will be glad to make a compromise, for it may be doubtful whether these donationes post obitum[1106], or these gifts with reservation of an usufruct, can be defended against one, who, not having the fear of God before his eyes, will make a determined attack upon them. Gradually the church becomes more and more interested in the husbandry of the village. It receives gifts; it makes loans; it substitutes labour services to be done on its demesne lands for the old feorm of provender. It is rash to draw inferences from the fragmentary and obscure laws of Ine; but one of them certainly suggests that, at least in some district of Wessex, this process was going on rapidly at the end of the seventh century, so rapidly and so oppressively that the king had to step in to protect the smaller folk. The man who has taken a yard of land at a rent is being compelled not only to pay but also to labour. This, says the king, he need not do unless he is provided with a house[1107].

Growth of the manorial system.

Now we are far from saying that the manorial system of rural economy is thus invented. From the time of the Teutonic conquest of England onwards there may have been servile villages, Roman villas with slaves and coloni cultivating the owner’s demesne, which had passed bodily to a new master. We have no evidence that is capable of disproving or of proving this. What we think more probable is that in those tracts where true villages (nucleated villages, as we have before now called them[1108]) were not formed, the conquerors fitted themselves into an agrarian scheme drawn for them by the Britons, and that in the small scattered hamlets which existed in these tracts there was all along a great deal of slavery[1109]. But, at any rate, the church was a cosmopolitan institution. Many a prelate of the ninth and tenth centuries, Bishop Oswald for one, must have known well enough how the foreign monasteries managed their lands, and, whatever controversies may rage round questions of remoter history, there can be no doubt that by this time the rural economy of the church estates in France was in substance that which we know as manorial. Foreign precedents in this as in other matters may have done a great work in England[1110]. All that we are here concerned to show is that there were forces at work which were capable of transmuting a village full of free landholders into a manor full of villeins.

Church-scot and tithe.

Besides the rights transferred to it by the king, the church would have other rights at its command which it could employ for the subjection—we use the word in no bad sense—of the peasantry. By the law of God it might claim first-fruits and tenths. The payment known as ciric-sceat, church-scot, is a very obscure matter[1111]. Certainly in laws of the tenth century it seems to be put before us as a general tax or rate, due from all lands, and not merely from those lands over which a church has the lordship. On the other hand, both in earlier and in later documents it seems to have a much less general character. In some of the earlier it looks like a due, we may even say a rent (ecclesiasticus census) paid to a church out of its own lands, while in the later documents, for example in Domesday Book, it appears sporadically and looks like a heavy burden on some lands, a light burden on others. The evidence suggests that the church had attempted and on the whole had failed, despite the help of kings and laws, to make this impost general. That in some districts it was a serious incumbrance we may be sure. On those estates of the church of Worcester to which we have often referred, every hide was bound to pay upon S^t. Martin’s day one horse-load (summa) of the best corn that grew upon it. He who did not pay upon the appointed day incurred the outrageous penalty of paying twelve-fold, and in addition to this a fine was inflicted[1112]. If the bishop often insisted on the letter of this severe rule, he must have reduced many a free ceorl to beggary. It is by no means certain that the duty of paying tithe has not a somewhat similar history. Though in this case the impost became a general burden incumbent on all lands, it may have been a duty of perfect obligation for the subjects of the churches, while as yet for the mass of other landowners it was but a religious duty or even a counsel of perfection. At any rate, this subtraction of a tenth of the gross produce of the earth is no light thing: it is quite capable of debasing many men from landownership to dependent tenancy.

Jurisdictional rights of the lord.