Villainage in England: Essays in English Mediaeval History

by Paul Vinogradoff

Rolls of King's Ripton.

The rolls of King's Ripton are not less explicit in this respect. People are fined for selling land without the licence of the court, for selling it 'outside the court[827].' The judgment depends entirely on the verdict given by the community of suitors or its representatives the jurors. When the parties rely on some former decision, arrangement, or statement of law, they appeal to the rolls of the court, which, as has been said already, present nothing else but the recorded jurisprudence of the body of suitors[828]. The extent of the legal self-government of this little community may be well seen in the record of a trial in which the Abbot of Ramsey, the lord of the manor, is impleaded upon a little writ of right by one of his tenants[829]. But it is hardly necessary to dwell on so normal an event. I should like to take up for once the opposite standpoint, and to show that in these very communities on the ancient demesne elements are apparent which have thrived and developed in ordinary manors to such an extent as to obscure their self-government. In the Rolls of King's Ripton we might easily notice a number of instances in which the influence of the lord makes itself felt directly or indirectly through the means of his steward. We come, for instance, on the following forms of pleading: An action of dower is brought, and the defendants ask that the laws and customs hitherto used in the court should be observed in regard to them—they have a right to three summonses, three distraints, and three essoins, and if they make default after that, the land ought to be taken into the lord's hand, when, but only if it is not replevied in the course of fifteen days, it will be lost for good and all. All these demands are granted by the steward, with whom the decision, at least formally, rests[830]. Again, when we hear that the whole court craves leave to defer its judgment till the next meeting, it is clear that it rests with the steward to grant this request[831]. We may find now and then a consideration for the interests of the lord which transcends the limits of mere formal right, as in a case where a certain Margery asks the court, without any writ of right or formal action, that an inquest may be held as to a part of her messuage which is detained in the hands of the Abbot, although she performs the service due for it. The inquest is held, and apparently ends in her favour, but she is directed at the same time to go and speak with the lord about the matter. Ultimately she gets what she wants after this private interview[832]. The proceedings are irregular and interesting: the usual forms of action are disregarded; a verdict is given, but the material decision is left with the lord, and is to be sought for by private intercession. Quite close to this entry we find an instance which is in flagrant contradiction with such a considerate treatment of all parties. The jurors of the court are called upon to decide a question of testament and succession. They say that none of them was present when the testament was made, and that they know nothing about it, and will say nothing about it. 'And so leaving their business undone, and in great contempt of the lord and of his bailiffs, they leave the court. And therefore it is ordered that the bailiffs do cause to be levied a sum of 40 s. to the use of the lord from the property of the said jurors by distress continued from day to day[833].' This case may stand as a good example both of the sturdy self-will which the peasantry occasionally asserted in their dealings with the lord, and of the opportunities that the lord had of asserting his superiority in a very high-handed manner.

But we need not even turn to any egregious instances in which the lord's power is thus displayed. The usual forms of surrender are there to show that, as regards origins, we have the same thing here as in ordinary manors, although the peculiarities of the ancient demesne have brought forward the features of communal organisation in a very marked way, and have held the element of lordship in check.

Free suitors in the halimot.

We have seen that there was only one halimot in the thirteenth and the preceding centuries, and that the division into customary court and court baron developed at a later time. We have seen, secondly, that this halimot was a meeting of the community under the presidency of the steward, and that the relative functions of community and steward became very distinct only in later days. It remains to be seen how far the fundamental class division between free tenants and villains affected the management of the court. As there was but one halimot and not two, both classes had to meet and to act concurrently in it. The free people now and then assert separate claims: a chaplain wages his law on the manor of Brightwaltham that he did not defame the lord's butler, but when he gets convicted by a good inquest of jurors of having broken the lord's hedges and carried away the lord's fowls, he will not justify himself of these trespasses and departs in contempt, doubtless because he will not submit to the judgment of people who are not on a par with him[834]. Freeholders object to being placed on ordinary juries of the manor[835], although they will serve as jurors on special occasions, and as a sort of controlling body over the common presenters[836]. Amercements are sometimes taxed by free suitors[837]. But although some division is apparent in this way, and the elements for a separation into two distinct courts are gathering, the normal condition is one which does not admit of any distinction between the two classes. We come here across the same peculiarity that we have seen in police and criminal law, namely, that the fundamental line of civil condition seems disregarded. Even when a court is mainly composed of villains, and in fact called curia villanorum, some of its suitors may be freeholders[838]. Even in a court composed of free people, like that of Broughton, there may be villains among them[839]. The parson, undoubtedly a free man, may appear as a villain in some rolls[840]. Altogether, the fact has to be noticed as a very important one, that whatever business the freeholders may have had in connexion with the manorial system, this business was transacted by courts which consisted chiefly of servile tenants[841]. In fact the presenting inquests, on which the free tenants refused to serve, would not be prevented by their composition from attainting these free tenants.

Requirement of free suitors.

This seems strange and indeed anomalous. One point remains to be observed which completes the picture: although the great majority of the thirteenth century peasantry are mere villains, although on some manors we hardly distinguish freeholders, there is a legal requirement that there should be at least a few freeholders on every manor. Later theory does not recognise as a manor an estate composed only of demesne land and copyhold. Freeholds are declared to be a necessary element, and should they all escheat, the manor would be only a reputed one[842]. We have no right to treat this notion as a mere invention of later times. It comes forward again and again in the shape of a rule, that there can be no court unless there are some free tenants to form it. The number required varies. In Henry VIII's reign royal judges were contented with two. In John's time as many as twelve were demanded, if a free outsider was to be judged. The normal number seems to have been four, and when the record of the proceedings was sent up to the King's tribunal four suitors had to carry it. The difference between the statement of Coke and the earlier doctrine lies in the substitution of the manor for the court. Coke and his authorities, the judges of Henry VIII's reign, speak of the manor where the older jurisprudence spoke of the court. Their rule involves the more ancient one and something in addition, namely, the inference that if there be no court baron there is no manor. Now this part of the doctrine, though interesting by itself, must stand over for the present. Let us simply take the assertion that free suitors are necessary to constitute a court, and apply it to a state of things when there was but one strictly manorial court, the halimot. In 1294 it is noted in the report of a trial that, 'in order that one may have a court he must have at least four free tenants, without borrowing the fourth tenant[843].' Now a number of easy explanations seem at hand: four free tenants at least were necessary, because four such tenants were required to take the record up to the king's court and to answer for any false judgment; a free tenant could protest against being impleaded before unfree people; some of the franchises could not be exercised unless there were free suitors to form a tribunal. But all these explanations do not go deep enough: they would do very well for the later court baron, but not for the halimot. It is not asserted that free suitors are necessary only in those cases where free tenants are concerned—it is the court as such which depends on the existence of such free suitors, the court which has largely, if not mostly, to deal with customary business, and consists to a great extent of customary tenants. And, curiously enough, when the court baron disengages itself from the halimot, the rule as to suitors, instead of applying in a special way to this court baron, for which it seems particularly fitted, extends to the notion of the manor itself, so that we are driven to ask why the manor is assumed to contain a certain number of free tenants and a court for them. Why is its existence denied where these elements are wanting? Reverting to the thirteenth century, we have to state similar puzzling questions: thus if one turns to the manorial surveys of the time, the freehold element seems to be relatively insignificant and more or less severed from the community; if one takes up the manorial rolls, the halimot is there with the emphatically expressed features and even the name of a court of villains; but when the common law is concerned, this same tribunal appears as a court of freeholders. The manors of the Abbey of Bec on English soil contained hardly any freeholders at all. Had the Abbey no courts? Had it no manors from the standpoint of Coke's theory? What were the halimots whose proceedings are recorded in the usual way on its manorial rolls? In presence of these flagrant contradictions I cannot help thinking that we here come across one of those interesting points where the two lines of feudal doctrine do not meet, and where different layers of theory may be distinguished.

Free suitors and freeholders.

Without denying in the least the practical importance of such notions as that which required that one's judges should be one's peers, or of such institutions as the bringing up of the manorial record to the King's Court, I submit that they must have exercised their influence chiefly by calling forth occasions when the main principle had to be asserted. Of course they could not create this principle: the idea that the halimot was a communal court constituted by free suitors meeting under the presidency of the steward, must have existed to support them. That idea is fully embodied in the constitution of the ancient demesne tribunal, where the suitors were admitted to be the judges, although they were villains, privileged villains and nothing else. Might we not start from the original similarity between ancient demesne and ordinary manors, and thus explain how the rule as to the necessary constitution of the manorial court was formed? It seems to me a mere application of the higher rule that a court over free people must contain free people, to a state of things where the distinction between free and unfree was not drawn at the same level as in the feudal epoch, but was drawn at a lower point. We have seen that a villain was in many respects a free man; that he was accepted as such in criminal and police business; that he was free against everybody but his lord in civil dealings; that the frank-pledge system to which he belonged was actually taken to imply personal freedom, although the freeholders ultimately escaped from it. I cannot help thinking that a like transformation of meaning as in the case of frank-pledge did take place in regard to the free suitors of the manorial court. The original requirement cannot have concerned freeholders in the usual legal sense, but free and lawful men, 'worthy of were and wite'—a description which would cover the great bulk of the villains and exclude slaves and their progeny. When the definitions of free holding and villainage got to be very stringent and marked, the libere tenentes assumed a more and more overbearing attitude and got a separate tribunal, while the common people fell into the same condition as the progeny of slaves. In a word, I think that the general movement of social development which obliterated the middle class of Saxon ceorls or customary free tenants (leaving only a few scattered indications of its existence) made itself felt in the history of the manorial court by the substitution of exceptional freeholders for the free suitors of the halimot. Such a substitution had several results: the diverging history of the ancient demesne from that of the ordinary manorial courts, the elevation of the court baron, the growth of the notion that in the customary court the only judge was the steward. One significant little trait remains to be observed in this context. It has been noticed[844] that care seems to be taken that there should be certain Freemen or Franklains in every manor. The feature has been mentioned in connexion with the doctrine of free suitors necessary to a court. But these people are by no means free tenants; in the usual legal sense they are mostly holding in villainage, and their freedom must be traced not to the dual division of feudal times, but to survivals of the threefold division which preceded feudalism, and contrasted slave, free ceorl, and military landowner.