APPENDICES. (continued 2)

APPENDIX K. GERVASE DE CORNHILL.

(See p. 121.)

Few discoveries, in the course of these researches, have afforded me more satisfaction and pleasure than that of the origin of Gervase de Cornhill, the founder of an eminent and wealthy house, and himself a great City magnate who played, we shall find, no small part in the affairs of an eventful time.

The peculiar interest of the story lies in the light it throws on the close amalgamation of the Normans and the English, even in the days of Henry I., thereby affording a perfect illustration of the well-known passage in the Dialogus:—

"Jam cohabitantibus Anglicis et Normannis, et alterutrum uxores ducentibus vel nubentibus, sic permixtæ sunt nationes, ut vix discerni possit hodie, de liberis loquor, quis Anglicus, quis Normannus sit genere."[881]

It also affords us a welcome glimpse of the territorial aristocracy of the City, as yet its ruling class.

It has hitherto been supposed, as in Foss's work, that Gervase de Cornhill first appears in 1155-56 (2 Hen. II.), in which year he figures on the Pipe-Roll as one of the sheriffs of London. I propose to show that he first appears a quarter of a century before, and so to bridge over Stephen's reign, and to connect the Pipe-Roll of Henry I. with the earliest Pipe-Rolls of Henry II. The problem before us is this. We have to identify the "Gervasius filius Rogeri nepotis Huberti," who figures prominently on the Pipe-Roll of 1130 (31 Hen. I.), with "Gervase, Justiciary of London," who meets us twice under Stephen, with "Gervase" who was one of the sheriffs of London in 1155 and 1156, and with Gervase de Cornhill, whose name occurs at least twice under Stephen, and innumerable times under Henry II., both in a public and private capacity.

Let us first identify Gervase de Cornhill with Gervase, the Justiciary of London. The latter personage occurs once in the legend on the seal affixed to "a 'star' with Hebrew words," which reads, "Sigillum Gervas' justitia' Londoniar';"[882] and once in a charter which confirms this legend, dealing, as it does, with a grant: "Gervasio Justic' de Lond'."[883] But the land (in Gamlingay) granted to "Gervase, Justiciary of London," is entered in a survey of the reign of John as held by "the heirs of Gervase de Cornhill" (see p. 121). Similarly, the land mortgaged in the former transaction to "Gervase, Justiciary of London," is afterwards found in possession of Henry, son and heir of Gervase de Cornhill. Thus is established the identity of the two.

The identity of the Gervase who thus flourished in the reigns of Stephen and Henry II. with the Gervase fitz Roger of 1130 must next occupy our attention. Here are the entries relating to the latter:—

"Radulfus filius Ebrardi debet cc marcas argenti pro placitis pecunie Rogeri nepotis Huberti."

"Andreas bucca uncta reddit compotum de lxiiij libris et vii solidis et viiij denariis pro xx libratis terre de terra Rogeri nepotis Huberti."

"Johannes filius Radulfi filii Ebrardi et Robertus frater suus reddunt Compotum de dcccc et ij marcis argenti iiij denarios minus de debitis Gervasii filii Rogeri pro totâ terrâ patris sui exceptis xx libratis terræ quas rex retinuit ad opus Andr' bucca uncta.... Et Idem debent iij marcas auri pro concessione terrarum quas Gervasius eis dedit."

"Ingenolda uxor Rogeri Nepotis Huberti debet ij marcas auri ut habeat maritagium et dotem et res suas."

"Gervasius filius Rogeri nepotis Huberti debet vj libras et xii solidos et vj denarios de debitis patris sui."

"Robertus filius Radufi et Johannes frater ejus reddunt Compotum de iij marcis auri ut rex concederet eis vadimonium et terras quas Gervasius eis concessit."[884]

These entries are explained by the charter subjoined, which shows how John and Robert came to have charge of the estate:—

"H. rex Angl[orum] Vic' Lund' et omnibus Baronibus et Vicecomitibus in quorum Bailiis Gervasius filius Rogeri terram habet salutem. Precipio quod Gervasius filius Rogeri sit saisitus et tenens de omnibus terris et rebus patris sui sicut pater ejus erat die quo movit ire ad Jerosolimam.... Et ipse et tota terra sua interim sint in custodia et saisina Johannis et Roberti filiorum Radulfi.... T. Comite Gloecestrie. Apud West'."[885]

John fitz Ralph (fitz Ebrard) was another London magnate, who was more or less connected with Gervase throughout his career. He is found with him at St. Albans, late in Stephen's reign, witnessing a charter of the king;[886] and the two men, as "Gervase and John," were joint sheriffs of London in 2 Hen. II. He is also the first witness to one of Gervase's charters after his brother Alan.[887]

We further find Gervase fitz Roger excused (in the Pipe-Roll of 1130) the payment of two shillings "de veteri Danegeldo" (? 1127-28) in Middlesex, and seven shillings "de preterito Danegeldo" (1128-29) because his land is "waste."[888] The inference to be drawn from all these passages is that Gervase had then (1130) recently succeeded his father, a man of unusual wealth and considerable property in land. We should therefore expect to find him, in his turn, a man of some importance, as was our own Gervase the Justiciar (alias Gervase de Cornhill), the only Gervase who meets us as a man of any consequence. Fortunately, however, we are not dependent on mere inference. The manor of Chalk was granted by the Crown to Roger "nepos Huberti;"[889] it was subsequently regranted to Gervase de Cornhill,[890] whom I identify with Gervase his son. Moreover, the adoption by Gervase of the surname "de Cornhill" can, as it happens, be accounted for. Among the records of the duchy of Lancaster is a grant by William, Archbishop of Canterbury (1123-1136), of land at "Eadintune" to Gervase and Agnes his wife, Agnes being described as daughter of "Godeleve."[891] By the aid of another document relating to the same property,[892] we identify this "Godeleve" as the wife of Edward de Cornhill. To the eye of a trained genealogist all is thus made clear.

But we now find ourselves in the midst of a most interesting family connection. For these same records carry us back to the father of this "Godeleve," namely, Edward of Southwark.[893] It is true that here he figures merely as a "æ. desudwerc," but we have only to turn to another quarter, and there we find "Edwardo de Suthwerke et Willelmo filio ejus" among the leading witnesses to the invaluable document recording the surrender by the English Cnihtengild of their soke to the priory of Christchurch (1125).[894] I need scarcely lay stress on the interest and importance of everything bearing on that remarkable and as yet mysterious institution. We find ourselves now brought into actual contact with the gild. For in one of its members, as named in that document, "Edwardus Hupcornhill," we recognize no other than that "Edward of Cornhill" who was son-in-law to "Edward of Southwark."[895] Following up our man in yet another quarter, we find him witnessing a London deed (temp. William the Dean),[896] and another one of about the middle of the reign of Henry I.,[897] though wrongly assigned in the (Hist. MSS.) Report to "about 1127."[898] Lastly, turning to still another quarter, we find his name among those of the witnesses to an agreement between Ramsey Abbey and the priory of Christchurch soon after 1125.[899]

We are now in a position to construct this remarkable pedigree:—

I say that this is a remarkable pedigree because, from the dates, Edward of Southwark must have been born within a very few years of the Conquest, and also because we can feel sure, in the case both of him and of his son-in-law, that we are dealing with men of the old stock, connected with the venerable gild of English "Cnihts." But it further shows us how the elder of the two bestowed on his English son the name of the Norman Conqueror, and how the Norman settlers intermarried with the English stock.

Let us now return to the father of Gervase, Roger "nepos Huberti." Here, again, there come to our help the records of the duchy of Lancaster. Among them are two royal charters, the first of which grants to Roger the manor of Chalk, in Kent,[900] while the second was consequent on his death,[901] and should be read in connection with the above extracts from the Pipe-Roll of 1130. This charter has a special interest from its mention of the fact that Roger had gone "ad Jerosolima." We may infer from this that he had died on pilgrimage.[902] As Gervase inherited from his father so large an estate, Roger must have been, in his day, a man of some consequence. It is, therefore, rather strange that his name does not occur in the report on the muniments of St. Paul's, nor in any other quarter to which I have been able to refer. Luckily, however, Stow has preserved for us the gist of a document which he had seen, when he tells us that on the grant of their soke, in 1125, by the Cnihtengild—

"The king sent also his sheriffs, to wit Aubrey de Vere and Roger nephew to Hubert, which (upon his behalf) should invest this church with the possessions thereof; which the said sheriffs accomplished, coming upon the ground, Andrew Buchevite[903] and the forenamed witnesses and others standing by."[904]

If we can trust to this passage, as I believe we certainly can, our Roger was a sheriff of London in 1125. This makes it highly probable that he was identical with the "Roger" named in a document addressed, a few years earlier:—

"Hugoni de Bocheland, Rogero, Leofstano, Ordgaro, et omnibus aliis baronibus Lundoniæ."[905]

I do not know of any other Roger who is likely to have been thus addressed.

We are given by Gervase de Cornhill a further clue as to his parentage in a charter of his, under Henry II., in which he mentions Ralph fitz Herlwin as his uncle ("avunculus"). Ralph fitz Herlwin was in 1130 joint-Sheriff of London.[906] This clue, therefore, is worth following up. Now, Ralph must either have been a brother of the father or of the mother of Gervase. It is highly improbable that Ralph "filius Herlwini" was a brother of Roger "nepos Huberti," each of the two being always mentioned by the same distinctive suffix. It may, therefore, be presumed that Ralph was brother to Roger's wife. Now, we happen to have two documents which greatly concern this Ralph and his son, and which belong to one transaction, although they figure widely apart in the report on the muniments of St. Paul's.[907] Nicholas, son of Ælfgar, parish priest of the church of St. Michael's, Cheap, a living which, like his father before him, he held at lease from St. Paul's, exercised his right to the next presentation in favour of a son of Ralph fitz Herlwin, who had married his niece Mary. From the evidence now in our possession, we may construct this pedigree:—

It will have been noticed that in this pedigree I assign to Gervase a brother Alan. I do so on the strength of a charter of Archbishop Theobald, late in the reign of Stephen, to Holy Trinity, witnessed inter alios by "Gervasio de Cornhill et Alano fratre ejus,"[912] also of a charter I have seen (Duchy of Lanc., Cart. Misc., ii. 57), in which the first witness to a charter of Gervase is Alan, his brother. The "Roger fitz Alan" for whom I suggest an affiliation to this Alan occurs among the witnesses to a grant made by Ralph, and witnessed by Reginald de Cornhill.[913] This suggests such paternity, and his name, Roger, would then be derived from Roger, his paternal grandfather. We have here, at least, another clue which ought to be followed up, for Roger fitz Alan is repeatedly found among the leading witnesses to London documents of the close of the twelfth and beginning of the thirteenth centuries, his career culminating in his appointment as mayor on the death of the well-known "Henry fitz Ailwin" in 1212.[914]

The fact that Gervase and Alan were brothers tempts one to recognize in them the "Alanus juvenis et Gervasius fratres," who witness a grant to (their cousin) Robert fitz Ralph fitz Herlwin,[915] and the "Alanus juvenis" and "Gervasius frater Alani" of a similar document.[916] But, unluckily, we find this same Alan elsewhere styled "Alanus filius Huberti juvenis."[917] Possibly they were sons of that Hubert to whom his father was "nepos." But the question, for the present, must be left in doubt.

Both Gervase de Cornhill and Henry his son appear, it may be added, from the evidence of charters, to have lent money on mortgage, and to have acquired landed property by foreclosing. A curious allusion to the mercantile origin and the profitable money-lending transactions of Geoffrey is found in a sneer of Becket's biographer, when, as Sheriff of Kent, he opposed the primate's landing.[918] The contemporary allusion to such pursuits, in the Dialogus, breathes the same scornful spirit for the trader and all his works.[919] Gervase, I think, may have been that "Gervase" who, at the head of the citizens of London, met Henry II. in 1174 (Fantosme, l. 1941); he would seem to have lived on till 1183, and was probably, at his death, between seventy and seventy-five years old. Among his descendants were a Dean of St. Paul's (1243-1254) and a Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield (1215-1223).

APPENDIX L. CHARTER OF THE EMPRESS TO WILLIAM DE BEAUCHAMP.

(See p. 124.)

As this important charter has never, I believe, been printed, I have taken the present opportunity of publishing it in extenso. The grantee must, at first, have staunchly supported Stephen, for he received in 1139, from the king, a grant of that constableship which Miles of Gloucester had forfeited on his defection.[920] It is evident, however, from the terms of this charter that he was jealous of Stephen's favourite, Gualeran, Count of Meulan, and of the power which the king had given him at Worcester. The grant of Tamworth also should be carefully noted, because that portion of the Despencer inheritance had fallen to the share of Marmion, which suggests that the Beauchamps and the Marmions were at strife, and that therefore, in this struggle, they embraced opposite sides. An intermarriage between Robert Marmion and Maud de Beauchamp was probably, as in other cases, a compromise of the quarrel.

"M. Imperatrix H. Regis filia et Anglor[um] domina Archiepiscopis Episcopis Abbatibus Comitibus Baronibus Justic[iariis] vicecomitibus ministris et omnibus fidelibus suis francis et Anglis tocius Angliæ salutem. Sciatis me dedisse et reddidisse Willelmo de Bellocampo hereditario jure Castellum de Wigorn[ia] cum mota sibi et heredibus suis ad tenendum de me in capite et heredibus meis. Dedi ei et reddidi vicecomitatum Wigorn[ie] et forestas cum omnibus appendiciis suis in feodo et hereditarie per eandem firmam quam pater eius Walterus de Bellocampo inde reddebat. Et de hoc devenit ipse Willelmus meus ligius homo contra omnes mortales et nominatim contra Gualerann[um] Comitem de Mellent et ita quod nec ipse Comes Gualeran[us] nec aliquis alius de hiis predictis mecum finem faciet quin semper ipse Willelmus de me in capite teneat nisi ipse bona voluntate et gratuita concessione de predicto Comite tenere voluerit. Et præter hoc dedi ei et reddidi castellum et honorem de Tamword ad tenend[um] ita bene et in pace et quiete et plenarie et honorifice et libere sicut unquam melius et quietius et plenarius et honorificentius et liberius Robertus Dispensator frater Ursonis de Abbetot ipsum castellum et honorem tenuerit. Et eciam dedi ei et reddidi Manerium de Cokeford cum omnibus appendiciis suis ut rectum suum sine placito. Et cum hoc dedi ei et reddidi Westonam et Luffenham in Roteland cum omnibus appendiciis suis ut rectum suum similiter sine placito. Dedi eciam ei et concessi de cremento lx libratas terræ de perquisitione Angl' pro servicio suo. Et iterum dedi ei et reddidi conestabulatum quem Urso de Abetot tenuit et dispensam ita hereditarie sicut Walterus pater ejus eam de patre meo H. Rege tenuit. Et item dedi ei et concessi terras et hereditates suorum proximorum parentum qui contra me fuerint in Werra mea et mecum finem facere non poterunt nisi de sua parentela propinquiore michi in ipsa Werra servierit. Quare volo et firmiter precipio quod de me et de quocunque teneat bene et honorifice in pace et hereditarie et libere et quiete teneat ipse Willelmus et heres suus post eum in bosco in plano in pratis et pasturis in forestis et fugaciis in percursibus et exitibus in aquis et molendinis in vivariis et piscariis in stagnis et mariscis et salinis et viis et semitis in foris et in feriis infra burgum et extra in civitate et extra et in omnibus locis cum saca et soka et toll et team et Infangenthef et cum omnibus consuetudinibus et libertatibus et quietudinibus T[estibus] Ep'o Bern[ardo] de S'cto D., et Nigello Ep'o de Ely, et Rob[erto] Com[ite] Gloec[estrie] et Milon[e] Com[ite] He[re]ford et Brienc[io] fil[io] Com[itis] et Unfr[ido] de Buh[un] et Joh[ann]e fil[io] Gilleb[erti] et Walkel[ino] Maminot et Milon[e] de Belloc[ampo] et Gaufr[edo] de Walt[er]vyll[a] et Steph[ano] de Belloc[ampo] et Rob[er]to de Colevill et Isnardo park[?ario] Gaufr[edo] de Abbetot Gilleb[erto] Arch' Nich[olao] fil[io] Isnardi. Apud Oxineford."

There can, I think, be little question that this charter passed at Oxford just after that by which Miles of Gloucester was created Earl of Hereford (July 25, 1141). It is certainly previous to the Earl of Gloucester's departure from England in the summer of 1142, and I do not know of any evidence for the presence of these bishops with the Empress at Oxford after the rout of Winchester. The names of the eight first witnesses to this charter are all found in Miles's charter (Fœdera, N.E., i. 14). As to the others, Miles de Beauchamp had held his castle of Bedford against Stephen (Christmas, 1137), and, though compelled to surrender it, had regained it on the triumph of the Empress. Stephen de Beauchamp heads the list of William de Beauchamp's under-tenants in his Carta (1166), and the Abetots—Heming's "Ursini"—also held of him. "Isnardus" was a landowner in Worcestershire and witnessed a charter to Evesham Abbey in 1130.

The text of this charter—which is taken from the Beauchamp Cartulary (Add. MSS., 28,024, fol. 126 b), a most precious volume, of which the existence is little known—is perhaps corrupt in places, but the document affords several points of considerable interest. Among them are the formula "dedi et reddidi" applied to the grantee's previous possessions, as contrasted with the "dedi et concessi" of the new grant (60 "librates" of land) and of the grant of his relatives' inheritance; the reference to the hereditary shrievalty of Worcester; the allusion to Tamworth Castle as the head of its "honour" (as at Arundel); and the phrase "de hoc devenit ... meus ligius homo contra omnes mortales," to be compared with "pro hiis ... devenit homo noster ligius contra omnes homines" in the charter (1144) to Humfrey de Bohun (Pipe-Roll Society: Ancient Charters, p. 46), and the "homagium suum fecit ligie contra omnes homines" in the charter to Miles of Gloucester (see p. 56). The statement that active opponents of the Empress were precluded from compounding for their offence, except by special intervention, occurs, I think, here alone. The facts that Urse de Abetot was a constable and Walter de Beauchamp an hereditary "Dispenser" are also noteworthy, the latter bearing on the question of the succession to Robert "Dispensator" (see my remarks in Ancient Charters, p. 2).

APPENDIX M. THE EARLDOM OF ARUNDEL.

(See p. 146.)

It is difficult to overrate the importance of the Canterbury charter to Geoffrey in its bearing on the origin and nature of this far-famed earldom. For centuries, antiquaries and lawyers have wrangled over this dignity, the premier earldom of England, but its true character and history have remained an unsolved enigma.

The popular belief that the dignity is "an earldom by tenure" and is annexed to the possession of Arundel Castle, is based on the petitions of John fitz Alan in 11 Hen. IV. and of Thomas Howard in 3 Car. I. This view would be strenuously upheld, of course, by the possessors of the castle, but neither their own ex parte statements, nor even the tacit admission of them by the Crown, can override the facts of the case as established by the evidence of history. The problem is for us, it should be added, of merely historical interest, as the dignity is now, and has been since 1627, held under a special parliamentary entail created in that year.

Even the warmest advocates of the "earldom by tenure" theory would admit that such an anomaly was absolutely unique of its kind. The onus of proving the fact must therefore rest on them, and the presumption, to put it mildly, is completely against them, for I do not hesitate to say that to a student of the dignity of an earl the proposition they ask us to accept is more than impossible: it is ludicrous.

Tierney endeavoured, with some skill, to rebut the arguments of Lord Redesdale in the Reports of the Lords' Committee, but the advance of historical research leaves them both behind. The latest words on the subject have been spoken by Mr. Pym Yeatman, the confidence of whose assertions and the size of whose work[921] might convey the erroneous impression that he had solved this ancient riddle. I shall therefore here examine his arguments in some detail, and, having disposed of his theories, shall then discuss the facts.

An enthusiastic champion of the "earldom by tenure" theory, Mr. Yeatman has further advanced a view which is quite peculiar to himself. So far as this view can be understood, it "dimidiates" the first earl (d. 1176), and converts him into two, viz. a father who died about 1156, and a son who died in 1176. This is first described as "certain" (p. 281),[922] then as "probable" (p. 288),[923] lastly, as "possible" (p. 285).[924] But when we look for the foundation of the theory, and for evidence that the first earl died in 1156, we only read, to our confusion, that the doings of the Becket earl are "possibly" to be attributed to "his [the first earl's] son, and we must come to that conclusion, if we believe the only evidence we possess in relation to the death of his father in 1156; at any rate, before it is rejected some reason should be shown for doing so." Yet the only scrap of "evidence" given us is the incidental remark (p. 283) that "the year 1156 is usually assigned as that of the death of the first Earl of Arundel." Now, this is directly contrary to fact. For Mr. Yeatman himself tells us that Dugdale's is "the generally received account" (p. 282), and Dugdale, like every one else, kills the first earl in 1176.[925] Again, it is "very certain," we learn, that the Earl of Arundel "died the 3rd (sic) of October, 1176" (p. 281), while "Diceto is the authority for the statement that William Albini, Earl of Arundel, died the 17th (sic) of October, 1176" (p. 285), the actual words of the chronicler being given as "iv. die Octobus" (sic). Now, all three dates, as a matter of fact, are wrong, though this is only introduced to show how the laborious researches of the author are marred by a carelessness which is fatal to his work.

Let us now turn to this argument:—

"The foundation charter of Bungay, in Suffolk, contains the first entry known to the author of the title of Earl of Sussex. It was founded in 1160 by Roger de Glanville.... This charter seems to confirm the statement that the first Earl of Arundel died about 1156. If not, he too was styled Earl of Sussex. It disposes as well of the theory that the first (sic) Earl of Arundel was so created[926] in 1176" (p. 284).

This argument is based on the fact that the house was "founded in 1160." The Monasticon editors indeed say that this was "about" the date, but, unluckily, a moment's examination of the list of witnesses to the charter shows that its date must be much later,[927] while Mr. Eyton unhesitatingly assigns it to 1188. All the above argument, therefore, falls to the ground.

Another point on which the author insists as of great importance is that the first earl was never Earl of Sussex:—

"The first Earl of Arundel was never called Earl of Sussex, nor did he bear that title.... His son was the first Earl of Sussex, and he would certainly have given his father the higher title if he ever bore it. Yet in confirming his charter to Wymondham, William, Earl of Sussex, confirms the grants of his ... father, William, the venerable Earl of Arundel.... An earl could not call himself the earl of a county unless he had a grant of it, and of this, with respect to the husband of Queen Adeliza, there is no evidence" (p. 282).

"That his son was called Earl of Sussex, and that he was the first earl, is equally clear" (p. 282).

"The chartulary of the Abbey of Buckenham, which the first Earl of Arundel founded, preserves the distinction in the titles of himself and his son and successor already insisted upon. It was founded tempe Stephen, and the founder is styled William, Count of Chichester. William, Count of Sussex, confirms the charter" (p. 284).

But on the very next page he demolishes his own argument by quoting Hoveden to the effect that "Willielmus (sic) de Albineio filio Willielmi Comitis de Arundel [Rex] dedit comitatum de Southsex." For here his own rule would require that if the late earl was, as he admits, Earl of Sussex, he would not be described as Earl of Arundel.[928]

But, in any case, the still existing charter to Geoffrey de Mandeville (1141), which the earl attests as "Earl of Sussex" (evidence which does not stand alone), is absolutely conclusive on the subject, and simply annihilates Mr. Yeatman's attempts to deny to the husband of Queen Adeliza the possession of that title.

With this there falls to the ground the argument based on that denial, viz.:—

"There is another argument which appears to have been lost sight of, which proves distinctly that there was (sic) at least five earls, and probably six, of the name of William de Albini. The record of the 12 Henry III. which was made after the last earl of that name was dead three years proves that there were four Earls of Sussex.... Now, the first Earl of Arundel was never called Earl of Sussex, nor did he bear that title," etc. (p. 282).

The above argument that the record in question proves the existence of five, not of four, earls thus falls to the ground. But this is by no means all. Mr. Yeatman first asserts (p. 281 a) that there were five Albini Earls of Arundel in all, "if indeed there were not six of them." Deducting the last earl, Hugh de Albini, this leaves us four or five Earl Williams in succession. Yet on the very next page he urges it (in the above passage) as "distinctly proved" that "there was (sic) at least five earls, and probably six, of the name of William de Albini." And, lastly, on p. 284, he announces that "there must have been six"!

We will now dismiss from our minds all that has been written on the point by Mr. Yeatman and other antiquaries, and turn to the facts of the case, which are few and beyond dispute. It is absolutely certain, from the evidence of contemporary chronicles and charters, that the first Albini earl, the husband of Queen Adeliza, was indifferently styled at the time (1) Earl of Sussex, (2) Earl of Chichester, (3) Earl of Arundel, (4) Earl William de Albini. The proofs of user of these styles are as follows. First, he attests as Earl of Sussex the Canterbury charter to the Earl of Essex (Christmas, 1141);[929] he also attests as Earl of Sussex Stephen's charter to Barking Abbey, which may have passed about the same time. As this charter is of importance for the argument, I append the full list of witnesses as extracted by me from the Patent Rolls:—

"Matild[a] Regina & Will[elm]o Comite de Sudsexa, & Will[elm]o Mart[el], & Adam de Belum, & Rog[ero] de Fraxin[eto] & Reinald[o] fil[io] Comitis, & Henr[ico] de Novo Mercato, & Ric[ard]o de Valderi, & Godefrid[o] de Petrivilla, & Warn[erio] de Lusoris, Apud Berching[es].[930]

Secondly, it is as "Earl of Chichester" that he attests four charters,[931] one of which is dated 1147, and is confirmed by King Stephen as the grant "quod Comes Willelmus de Arundel fecit;" it is also as Earl of Chichester that he appears in the Buckenham foundation charter,[932] and that he confirms the grants to Boxgrove.[933] As to the two other styles no question arises.

Thus the case of the earldom of Arundel is one of special interest in its bearing on the adoption of comital titles. For it affords, according to the view I have advanced, an example of the use, in a single case, of all the four possible varieties of an earl's title. These four possible varieties are those in which the title is taken (1) from the county of which the bearer is earl, (2) from the capital town of that county, (3) from the earl's chief residence, (4) from his family name. Strictly speaking, when an earl was created, it was always (whatever may be pretended) as the earl of a particular county. The earl and his county were essentially correlative; nor was it then possible to conceive an earl unattached to a county. Titles, however, like surnames in that period of transition, had not yet crystallized into a hard and fast form, and it was deemed unnecessary, when speaking of an earl, that his county should always be mentioned. Men spoke of "Earl Geoffrey," or of "Geoffrey, Earl of Essex," just as they spoke of "King Henry," or of "Henry, King of the English." If the simple "Earl Geoffrey" was not sufficiently distinctive, they added his surname, or his residence, or his county for the purpose of identification. The secondary importance of this addition is the key to Norman polyonomy. The founder, for instance, of the house of Clare was known as Richard "Fitz-Gilbert," or "de Tunbridge," or "de Bienfaite," or "de Clare." The result of this system, or rather want of system, was, as we might expect, in the case of earls, that no fixed principle guided the adoption of their styles. It was indeed a matter of haphazard which of their cognomina prevailed, and survived to form the style by which their descendants were known. Thus, the Earls of Herts and of Surrey, of Derby and of Bucks, were usually spoken of by their family names of Clare and of Warenne, of Ferrers and of Giffard; on the other hand the Earls of Norfolk and of Essex, of Devon and of Cornwall, were more usually styled by those of their counties. Where the name of the county was formed from that of its chief town, the latter, rather than the county itself, was adopted for the earl's style. Familiar instances are found in the earldoms of Chester, Gloucester, and Hereford, of Lincoln, of Leicester, and of Warwick. Rarest, perhaps, are those cases in which the earl took his style from his chief residence, as the Earls of Pembroke(shire) from Striguil (Chepstow), and, perhaps, of Wiltshire from Salisbury, though here the case is a doubtful one, for "de Salisbury" was already the surname of the family when the earldom was conferred upon it. The Earl of Gloucester is spoken of by the Continuator of Florence of Worcester as "Earl of Bristol" (see p. 284), and the Earls of Derby occasionally as Earls "of Tutbury," but the most remarkable case, of course, is that of Arundel itself. It was doubtful for a time by which style this earldom would eventually be known, and "Sussex," under Henry II., seemed likely to prevail. The eventual adoption of Arundel was, no doubt, largely due to the importance of that "honour" and of the castle which formed its "head."

Having now established that the earldom of "Arundel" was from the first the earldom of a county, and thus similar to every other, one is led to inquire on what ground there is claimed for it an absolutely unique and wholly anomalous origin. I reply: on none whatever. There is nothing to rebut the legitimate assumption that William de Albini was created an earl in the ordinary course of things. Here, again, the facts of the case, few and simple though they are, have been so overlaid by assumption and by theory that it is necessary to state them anew. All that has been hitherto really known is that Queen Adeliza married William de Albini between King Henry's death (December, 1135) and the landing of the Empress in the autumn of 1139, and that her husband subsequently appears as an earl. The assertion that he became an earl on his marriage, in virtue of his possession of Arundel Castle, is pure assumption and nothing else.[934] I have already dwelt on the value of the Canterbury charter to Geoffrey as evidence not only that William was Earl "of Sussex," but also that he was already an earl at Christmas, 1141. In that charter I claim to have discovered the earliest contemporary record mention of this famous earldom.[935] William, therefore, became an earl between Christmas, 1135, and Christmas, 1141. This much is certain.

The key to the problem, however, is found in another quarter. The curious and valuable Chronicle of the Holy Cross of Waltham (Harl. MS., 3776) was the work of one who was acquainted—indeed, too well acquainted—with the persons and the doings of those two nobles, Geoffrey de Mandeville and William de Albini. His own neighbourhood became their battleground, and when William harried Geoffrey's manors, and Geoffrey, in revenge, fired Waltham, he was among the sufferers himself.[936] The pictures he draws of these rival magnates are, therefore, of peculiar interest, and his admiration for Geoffrey is so remarkable, in the face of the earl's wild deeds, that no apology is needed for quoting the description in full:—

"E contra Gaufridus iste præcellens multiformi gratia, præcipuus totius Anglie, militia quidem præclivis, morum venustate præclarus, in consiliis regis et regni moderamine cunctis præminens, agebat se inter ceteros quasi unus ex illis, nullius probitatis suæ garrulus, nullius probitatis sibi collatæ vel dignitatis nimius ostensator, rei suæ familiaris providus dispensator, omnium virtutum communium quæ tantum decerent virum affluentia exuberans, si Dei gratiam diligentius acceptam et ceteris prelatam, diligens executor menti suæ sedulus imprimeret; novit populus quod non mentior, quem si laudibus extulerim, meritis ejus assignari potius quam gratiæ nostræ id debere credimus, verumptamen gratiæ divinæ de cujus munere venit quicquid boni provenit homini" (cap. 29).

"Tempore igitur incendii supra memorati, dum observaret comes ille ecclesiam cum multis ne succenderetur, amicissimus ipse et devotus ecclesiæ, afflictus multo dolore quod periclitarentur res ecclesiæ (non tamen poterat manentibus illis injuriam sibi illatam vindicare)," etc. (cap. 31).

As eager to denounce the character of William as to palliate the excesses of Geoffrey, the chronicler thus sketches the husband of Queen Adeliza:—

"Seditionis tempore, cum se inæqualiter agerent homines in terra nostra, et de pari contenderet modicus cum magno, humilis cum summo, et fide penitus subacta, nullo respectu habito servi ad dominum, sic vacillaret regnum et regni status miserabili ductore premeretur fere usque ad exanimationem, e vicino contendebant inter se duo de præcipuis terræ baronibus, Gaufridus de Mandeville, et Comes de Harundel, quem post discessum Regis Henrici conjugio Reginæ Adelidis contigit honorari, unde et superbire et supra se extolli cœpit ultra modum, ut [non] posset sibi pati parem, et vilesceret in oculis suis quicquid præcipuum præter regem in se habebat noster mundus. Habebat tunc temporis Willelmus ille, pincerna, nondum comes, dotem reginæ Waltham, contiguam terris comitis Gaufridi de Mandeville, impatiens quidem omnium comprovincialium terras suo dominio non mancipari.[937]

In the words "nondum comes" we find the clue we seek. If the writer had merely abstained from giving William his title, the value of his evidence would be slight; but when he goes, as it were, out of his way to inform us that though William, in virtue of his marriage, was already in possession of the queen's dower, he was "not yet an earl," he tells us, in unmistakable language, the very thing that we want to know. It was probably in order to accentuate his pride that his critic reminds us that the future earl was as yet only a pincerna;[938] but, whatever the motive, the fact remains, on first-hand evidence, that William was "not yet an earl" at a time when he possessed his wife's dower, and consequently Arundel Castle. This fact, hitherto overlooked, is completely destructive of the time-honoured belief that he acquired the earldom on, and by, obtaining possession of the castle.

So far, all is clear. But the question is further complicated by William appearing in two distinct documents as earl, not of Arundel or Chichester, but of Lincoln! That he held this title is a fact so utterly unsuspected, and indeed so incredible, that Mr. Eyton, finding him so styled in a cartulary of Lewes Priory, dismissed the title, without hesitation, as an obvious error of the scribe.[939] But I have identified in the Public Record Office the actual charter from which the scribe worked, and the same style is there employed. Even so, error is possible; but the evidence does not stand alone. In a cartulary of Reading[940] we find William confirming, as Earl of Lincoln, a grant from the queen, his wife, and here again the original charter is there to prove that the cartulary is right.[941] The early history of the earldom of Lincoln is already difficult enough without this additional complication, of which I do not attempt to offer any solution.

But so far as the earldom of "Arundel" is concerned, I claim to have established its true character, and to have shown that there is nothing to distinguish it in its origin from the other earldoms of the day. The erratic notion of "earldom by tenure," held when the strangest views prevailed as to peerage dignities, was a fallacy of the post hoc propter hoc kind, based on the long connection of the castle with the earls. Nor has Mr. Freeman's strange fancy that the holder of this earldom is "the only one of his class left" any better foundation in fact.

APPENDIX N. ROBERT DE VERE.

(See p. 128.)

This personage, who, as charters show, was in constant attendance on Stephen, is usually, and very naturally, taken by genealogists, from Mr. Eyton downwards, for a younger brother of Aubrey de Vere (the chamberlain) and uncle of the first Earl of Oxford. He was, however, quite distinct, being a son of Bernard de Vere. He owed his position to a marriage with Adeline, daughter of Hugh de Montfort, as recorded on the Pipe-Roll of 1130. By this marriage he became possessed of the honour of Haughley ("Haganet"), and with it (it is important to observe) of the office of constable, in which capacity he figures among the witnesses to Stephen's Charter of Liberties (1136). In conjunction with his wife he founded, on her Kentish estate, the Cluniac priory of Monks Horton. They were succeeded, in their tenure of the honour, by the well-known Henry of Essex, who thus became constable in his turn. As supporting this view that the honour carried the constableship, attention may be drawn to its compotus as "Honor Constabularie" in 1189-90 (Rot. Pip., 1 Ric. I., pp. 14, 15), just before that of the "Terra que fuit Henrici de Essex." It is therefore worth consideration whether Robert de Montfort, general to William Rufus—"strator Normannici exercitus hereditario jure"—may not have really held the post of constable.

The history of the Montfort fief in Kent is of interest from the Conquest downwards owing to its inclusion of Saltwood and other estates claimed by the Archbishops of Canterbury.[942] Dugdale is terribly at sea in his account of the Montfort descent, wrongly affiliating the Warwickshire Thurstan (ancestor of the Lords Montfort) to the Kentish house, and confusing his generations wholesale (especially in the case of Adeline, wife of William de Breteuil).

The fact that Henry of Essex was appealed of treason and defeated in the trial by battle by a Robert de Montfort (1163), suggests that a grudge on the part of a descendant of the dispossessed line against himself as possessor of their fief may have been at the bottom of this somewhat mysterious affair.

Note.—Since the above was in type, there has appeared (Rot. Pip., 15 Hen. II., p. 111) a most valuable compotus of the 'Honor Constabularie' (with a misleading head-line) for 1169, proving that Gilbert de Gant had held it, at one time, under Stephen, and had alienated nearly a third of it.

APPENDIX O. "TOWER AND CASTLE."

(See p. 149.)

The description of the Tower by the Empress, in her charter, as "turris Londonie cum parvo castello quod fuit Ravengeri," and its similar description in Stephen's charter as "turris Lond[oniæ] cum castello quod ei subest," though at first sight singular and obscure, are fraught, when explained, with interest and importance in their bearing on military architecture.

It will be found, on reference to the charter granted to Aubrey de Vere (p. 180), that the Empress gives him Colchester Castle as "turrim et castellum de Colcestr[a]," a grant confirmed by her son as that of "turrim de Colcestr[a] et castellum" (p. 185 n.), and, in later days, by Henry VIII., as "Castrum et turrim de Colcestr[a]."[943] Further, in the charter to William de Beauchamp (p. 313), we find Worcester Castle described as "castellum de Wigorn[ia] cum mota," Hereford Castle being similarly described in the charter granted at the same time to Miles de Gloucester as "motam Hereford cum toto castello." Before proceeding to the inferences to be drawn from these expressions, it may be as well to strengthen them by other parallel examples. Taking first the case of Colchester, we turn to a charter of Henry I., granted to his favourite, Eudo Dapifer, at the Christmas court of 1101,[944] in which Colchester Castle is similarly described:—

"Henricus Rex Angliæ Mauricio Lond. Episcopo et Hugoni de Bochelanda et omnibus baronibus suis Anglis et Francis de Essex salutem. Sciatis me dedisse benigne et ad amorem concessisse Eudoni Dapifero meo Civitatem de Colecestrâ et turrim et castellum et omnes ejusdem civitatis firmitates Cum omnibus quæ ad illam pertinent sicut pater meus et frater et ego eam melius habuimus et cum omnibus consuetudinibus illis quas pater meus et frater et ego in eâ unquam habuimus. Et hæc concessio facta fuit apud Westmonaster in primo natali post concordiam Roberti comitis fratris mei de me et de illo.

"T. Rob. Ep. Lincoln et W. Gifardo Wintoniensi electo et Rob. Com. de Mellent. et Henr. Com. fr. ejus et Roger Bigoto et Gisleberti fil. Richard et Rob. fil. Baldwin et Ric. fratr. ejus."[945]

Turning to Hereford, we find its description as "mota cum toto castello" recurring in the confirmation by Henry II. and the recital of that confirmation by John.[946] There is another example sufficiently important to deserve separate treatment. This is that of Gloucester.

We find that, in 1137, "Milo constabularius Glocestrie" granted to the canons of "Llanthony the Second"

"Tota oblatio custodum turris et castelli et Baronum ibi commorantium."[947]

Here again the correctness of the description is fortunately confirmed by subsequent evidence; for John recites (April 28, 1200) a charter of his father, Henry II. (which is assigned by Mr. Eyton to the spring of 1155), granting to Miles's son, Roger, Earl of Hereford,

"custodiam turris Gloc' cum toto castello," etc., etc.... "per eandem firmam quam reddere solebat comes Milo pater ejus tempore H. R. avi mei;"[948]

while Robert of Torigny speaks, independently, of "discordia quæ erat inter regem Anglorum Henricum et Rogerium, filium Milonis de Gloecestria, propter turrim Gloecestrie."[949] The "tower" of Gloucester is also referred to in the Pipe-Roll of 1156,[950] and in the Cartulary of Gloucester Abbey.[951] The importance of its mention lies in the fact that it establishes the character of Gloucester Castle, and proves that what the leading authority has written on the subject is entirely erroneous. Mr. G. T. Clark, in his great work on our castles, refers thus to Gloucester:—

"The castle of Gloucester ... was the base of all extended operations in South Wales. Here the kings of England often held their court, and here their troops were mustered. Brichtric had a castle at Gloucester, but his mound has long been removed, and with it all traces of the Norman building."[952]

In another place he goes further still:—

"Gloucester, a royal castle, stood on the Severn bank, at one angle of the Roman city. It had a mound and a shell-keep, now utterly levelled, and the site partially built over. It was the muster-place and starting-point for expeditions against South Wales, and the not infrequent residence of the Norman sovereigns."[953]

It may seem rash, in the teeth of these assertions, to maintain that this mound and its shell-keep are alike imaginary, but the word "turris" proves the fact. For, as Mr. Clark himself observes with perfect truth,

"in the convention between Stephen and Henry of Anjou (1153) the distinction is drawn between 'Turris Londinensis et Mota de Windesorâ,' London having a square keep or tower, and Windsor a shell-keep upon a mound."[954]

So the keep of Gloucester, being a "turris" and not a "mota," was clearly "a square tower" and not "a shell-keep upon a mound." The fact is that Mr. Clark's assertions would seem to be a guess based on the hypothesis, itself (as could be shown) untenable, that "Brichtric had a castle at Gloucester." Assuming from this the existence of a mound, he must further have assumed that the Normans had crowned it, as elsewhere, with a shell-keep. But the true character of this great fortress is now determined.

Two examples of the double style shall now be adduced from castles outside England. In Normandy we have an entry, in 1180, referring to expenditure "in operationibus domorum turris et castri," etc., at Caen;[955] in Ireland the grant of Dublin Castle to Hugh de Laci (1172) is thus related in the so-called poem of Matthew Regan (ll. 2713-2716):—

The phrase, it will be seen, corresponds exactly with those employed to describe the castles of Carlisle and Appleby, at the same period:—

Having thus established the use of the phrase, let us now pass to its origin.

I would urge that it possesses the peculiar value of a genuine transition form. It preserves for us, as such, the essential fact that there went to the making of the mediæval "castle" two distinct factors, two factors which coalesced so early that the original distinction between them was already being rapidly forgotten, and is only to be detected in the faint echoes of this "transition form."

The two factors to which I refer were the Roman castrum or castellum and the mediæval "motte" or "tour." The former survived in the fortified enclosure; the latter, in the central keep. The Latin word castellum (corresponding with the Welsh caer) continued to be regularly used as descriptive of a fortified enclosure, whether surrounded by walls or earthworks.[957] It is singular how much confusion has resulted from the overlooking of this simple fact and the retrospective application of the denotation of the later "castle." Thus Theodore, in the seventh century, styles the Bishop of Rochester, "Episcopus Castelli Cantuariorum, quod dicitur Hrofesceaster" (Bæda, iv. 5); and Mr. Clark gives several instances, from the eighth and ninth centuries, in which Rochester is alternatively styled a "civitas" and a "castellum."[958] So again, in the ninth century, where the chroniclers, in 876 A.D., describe how "bestæl se here into Werham," etc., Asser and Florence paraphrase the statement by saying that the host "castellum quod dicitur Werham intravit." Now, it is obvious that there could be no "castle" at Wareham in 876, and that even if there had been, an "army" could not have entered it. But when we bear in mind the true meaning of "castellum," at once all is clear. As Professor Freeman observes, "Wareham is a fortified town."[959] Its famous and ancient defences are thus described by Mr. Clark:—

"In figure the town is nearly square, the west face about 600 yards, the north face 650 yards.... The outline of this rectangular figure is an earthwork, within which the town was built."[960]

Such then was the nature of the "castellum," within which the host took shelter.[961] Passing now to a different instance, we find the Greek κώμη ("a village") represented by "castellum" in the Latin Gospels (Matt. xxi. 2), and this actually Englished as "castel" in the English Gospels of 1000 A.D.[962] Here again, confusion has resulted from a misunderstanding.

As against the castellum, the fortified enclosure, we have a new and distinct type of fortress, the outcome of a different state of society, in the single "motte" or "tour." I shall not here enter into the controversy as to the relation between these two forms, my space being too limited. For the present, we need only consider the "motte" (mota) as a mound (agger) crowned by a stronghold (whether of timber or masonry), but not, as Mr. Clark has clearly shown, "crowned with the square donjon," as so strangely imagined by Mr. Freeman.[963] In the "tour" (turris) we have, of course, the familiar keep of masonry, rectangular in form, and independent of a mound.

The process, then, that we are about to trace is that by which the "motte" or "tour" coalesced with the castellum, and by which, from this combination, there was evolved the later "castle." For my theory amounts to this: in the mediæval fortress, the keep and the castellum were elements different in origin, and, for a time, looked upon as distinct. It was impossible that the compound fortress, the result of their combination, should long retain a compound name: there must be one name for the entire fortress, either "tour" (turris) or "chastel" (castellum). Which was to prevail?

This question may have been decided by either of two considerations. On the one hand, the relative importance of the two factors in the fortress may have determined the ultimate form of its style; on the other—and this, perhaps, is the more probable explanation—the older of the two factors may have given its name to the whole. For sometimes the keep was added to the "castle," and sometimes the "castle" to the keep. The former development is the more familiar, and three striking instances in point will occur below. For the present I will only quote a passage from Robert de Torigny, to whom we are specially indebted for evidence on military architecture:—

(1123) "Henricus rex ... turrem nihilominus excelsam fecit in castello Cadomensi, et murum ipsius castelli, quem pater suus fecerat, in altum crevit.... Item castellum quod vocatur Archas, turre et mœnibus mirabiliter firmavit.... Turrem Vernonis similiter fecit."[964]

More interesting for us is the other case, that in which the "castle" was added to the keep, because it is that of the respective strongholds in the capitals of Normandy and of England. The "Tower of Rouen" and the "Tower of London"—for such were their well-known names—were both older than their surrounding wards (castra or castella). William Rufus built a wall "circa turrim Londoniæ" (Henry of Huntingdon):[965] his brother and successor built a wall "circa turrim Rothomagi."[966] The former enclosed what is now known as "the Inner Ward" of the Tower,[967] the "parvum castellum" of Maud's charter.[968]

Of "the Tower of Rouen" I could say much. Perhaps its earliest undoubted mention is in or about 1078 (the exact date is doubtful), when Robert "Courthose," revolting from his father "Rotomagum expetiit, et arcem regiam furtim præoccupare sategit. Verum Rogerius de Iberico ... qui turrim custodiebat ... diligenter arcem præmunivit," Ordericus here, as often, using turris and arx interchangeably.[969] Passing over other notices of this stronghold, we come in 1090 to one of those tragic deeds by which its history was destined to be stained.[970] Mr. Freeman has told the tale of Conan's attempt and doom.[971] The duke, who was occupying the Tower, left it at the height of the struggle,[972] but on the triumph of his party, and the capture of Conan, the prisoner was claimed by Henry for his prey and was led by him to an upper story of the Tower.[973] At this point I pause to discuss the actual scene of the tragedy. Mr. Freeman writes as follows:—

"Conan himself was led into the castle, and there Henry took him.... The Ætheling led his victim up through the several stages of the loftiest tower of the castle," etc., etc.[974]

Here the writer misses the whole point of the topography. The scene of Conan's death was no mere "tower of the castle," but "the Tower," the Tower of Rouen—Rotomagensis turris, as William here terms it. He fails to realize that the Tower of Rouen held a similar position to the Tower of London. Thus, in 1098, when Helias of Le Mans was taken prisoner, we read that "Rotomagum usque productus, in arce ipsius civitatis in vincula conjectus est" (Vetera Analecta), which Wace renders:—

Again, even in the next reign, a royal charter, assigned by Mr. Eyton to 1114-15, is tested, not at the "castle" of Rouen, but "in turre Rothomagensi."[975] And so, two reigns after that, a century later than Conan's death, we find the custodes of "the Tower of Rouen" entered in the Exchequer Rolls, where it is repeatedly styled "turris."

Thus at Rouen, as at London, the "Tower" not only preserved its name, but ultimately imposed it on the whole fortress. And precisely as the Tower of London is mentioned in 1141 by the transition style of "turris Londoniæ cum castello," so in 1146 we find Duke Geoffrey repairing "sartatecta turris Rothomagensis et castelli," after it fell into his hands.[976]

Here then we have at length the explanation of a difficulty often raised. Why is "the Tower of London" so styled?[977] And although, in England, the style may now be unique, men spoke in the days of which I write of the "Tower" of Bristol or of Rochester as of the Tower of Gloucester.[978] Abroad, the form was more persistent, and special attention may be drawn to the Tower of Le Mans ("Turris Cenomannica),"[979] because the expression "regia turris" which Ordericus applies to it is precisely that which Florence of Worcester applies, in 1114, to the Tower of London, to which it bore an affinity in its relation to the Roman Wall.[980]

All that I have said of the "turris" keep is applicable to the "mota" also, mutatis mutandis, for the motte, though its name was occasionally extended to the whole fortress, was essentially the actual keep, the crowned mound, as is well brought out in the passages quoted by Mr. Clark from French charters:—

"Le motte et les fossez d'entour ... le motte de Maiex ... le motte de mon manoir de Caieux et les fossez d'entour."[981]

Here the "fossez d'entour" represent the surrounding works, the "castellum" referred to in the charters of the Empress. But between "the right to hold a moot there," "the moat (sic) and castle" as Mr. Hallam rendered it, "the moat (sic) probably the motte" of Mr. Clark (ii. 112), and the clever evasion "mote" in the Reports on the Dignity of a Peer (Third Report, p. 163), the unfortunate "mota" of Hereford has had a singular fate.

And now for the results of those conclusions that I have here endeavoured to set forth. The three castles to which I shall apply them are those of Rochester, of Newcastle, and of Arques.

In an elaborate article on the keep of Rochester, Mr. Hartshorne showed that it was erected, not as was believed by Gundulf, but by Archbishop William of Corbeuil,[982] between 1126 and 1139. But he did not attempt to explain what was the "castle of stone" which Gundulf is recorded to have there constructed. As everything turns on the exact wording, I here give the relevant portions of the document in point: —

"Quomodo Willelmus Rex filius Willelmi Regis rogatu Lanfranci Archiepiscopi concessit et confirmavit Rofensi ecclesiæ S. Andreæ Apostoli ad victum Monachorum manerium nomine Hedenham; quare Gundulfus Episcopus Castrum Rofense lapideum totum de suo proprio Regi construxit.

"Gundulfus ... illis contulit beneficium ... castrum etenim, quod situm est in pulchriore parte Hrovecestræ.... Regi consuluerunt [duo amici] quatinus ... Gundulfus, quia in opere cæmentarii plurimum sciens et efficax erat, castrum sibi Hrofense lapideum de suo construeret.... Dixerunt [Archiepiscopus et Episcopus] ... quotiescunque quidlibet ex infortunio aliquo casu in castro illo contingeret aut infractione muri aut fissura maceriei, id protinus ... exigeretur.... Hoc pacto coram Rege inito fecit castrum Gundulfus Episcopus de suo ex integro totum, costamine, ut reor, lx librarum."[983]

Though castrum is the term used throughout, Mr. Parker in his essay on The Buildings of Gundulph, 1863, assumed that a tower must be meant, and wrote of "Gundulf's tower" in the Cathedral: "This is probably the tower which Gundulph is recorded to have built at the cost of £60."[984] So too, Mr. Clark wrote:—

"As to his architectural skill and his work at Rochester Castle, ... the bishop [was] to employ his skill, and spend £60 in building a castle, that is, a tower of some sort. What Gundulf certainly built is the tower which still bears his name.... It may be that Gundulf's tower was removed to make way for the new keep, but in this case its materials would have been made use of, and some trace of them would be almost certain to be detected. But there is no such trace, so that probably the new keep did not supersede the other tower."[985]

Mr. Freeman guardedly observes:—

"The noble tower raised in the next age by Archbishop Walter (sic) of Corbeuil ... had perhaps not even a forerunner of its own class.

"Mr. Hartshorne showed distinctly that the present tower of Rochester was not built by Gundulf, but by William of Corbeuil.... But we have seen (see N. C., vol. iv. p. 366) that Gundulf did build a stone castle at Rochester for William Rufus ('castrum Hrofense lapidum' [sic]), and we should most naturally look for it on the site of the later one. On the other hand, there is a tower seemingly of Gundulf's building and of a military rather than an ecclesiastical look, which is now almost swallowed up between the transepts of the cathedral. But it would be strange if a tower built for the king stood in the middle of the monastic precinct."[986]

Thus the problem is left unsolved by all four writers. But the true interpretation of castrum, as established by me above, solves it at once. For just as William of Corbeuil is recorded to have built the "turris" or rectangular keep,[987] so Gundulf is described as constructing the castrum or fortified enclosure.[988] We must look, therefore, for his work in the wall that girt it round. And there we find it. Mr. Clark himself is witness to the fact:—

"Part of the curtain of the enceinte of Rochester Castle may also be Gundulph's work. The south wall looks very early, as does the east wall."[989]

But Mr. Irvine had already, in 1874, pointed out, in a brief but valuable communication, that a distinctive peculiarity of Gundulf's work—the absence of plinth to his buttresses—is found "in the castle wall at Rochester (also his)."[990] Thus, it will be seen, the character of the work independently confirms my own conclusion.

Some confusion, it may be well to add, has been caused by such forms as "castellum Hrofi" and "castrum quod nominatur Hrofesceaster." In these early forms (as in some other cases), "castrum" denotes the whole of Rochester, girt by its Roman wall, and not (as Mr. Hartshorne assumed throughout) the castle enclosure. Mr. Clark leaves the point in doubt.[991]

Before leaving Rochester, I would point out that, unlike the rest of Gundulf's work, this castrum can be closely dated. The conjunction of Lanfranc and William Rufus, in the story of its building, limits it to September, 1087-March, 1089, while Odo's rebellion would probably postpone its construction till his surrender. It is most unfortunate, therefore, that Mr. Clark should write, "This transaction between the bishop and the king occurred about 1076,"[992] when neither Gundulf was bishop nor William king.

To the case of Newcastle and its keep, I invite special attention, because we have here the tacit admission of Mr. Clark himself that he has antedated, incredible though it may seem, by more than ninety years the erection of this famous keep. To prove this, it is only necessary to print his own conclusions side by side:—

(1080.) (1172-74.)

"Of this masonry there is but little which can be referred to the reign of the Conqueror or William Rufus,—that is, to the eleventh century. Of that period are certainly (sic) ... the keeps of Chester, ... and Newcastle, though this last looks later than its recorded (sic) date.... Carlisle ... received from Rufus a castle and a keep, now standing; and Newcastle, similarly provided in 1080, also retains its keep.... The castle of Newcastle ... was built by Robert Curthose in 1080, and is a very perfect example of a rectangular Norman keep. Newcastle, built in 1080, has very many chambers" (Mediæval Military Architecture, 1884, i. 40, 49, 94, 128). "Newcastle is an excellent example of a rectangular Norman keep. "Its condition is perfect, its date known (sic), and being late (1172-74) in its style, it is more ornate than is usual in its details, and is furnished with all the peculiarities of a late (sic) Norman work. "The present castle is an excellent example of the later (sic) form of the rectangular Norman keep.... Newcastle has its fellow in the keep of Dover, known to have been the work of Henry the Second" (Archæological Journal, 1884).

The origin, of course, of the astounding error by which "the great master of military architecture" misdated this keep by nearly a century,[993] and took an essentially late work for one of the earliest in existence, was the same fatal delusion that castrum or castellum meant precisely what it did not mean, namely, a tower. "Castellum novum super flumen Tyne condidit" is the expression applied to Robert's work in 1080, and the absence of a "tower" explains the fact that Fantosme makes no mention of a "tur" when describing "Le Noef Chasteau sur Tyne," the existing keep not being available at the time of which he wrote.

We now come to our last case, that of the Château d'Arques.

"Arques," writes Mr. Clark, "is one of the earliest examples of a Norman castle."[994] It is, Mr. Freeman holds, "a fortress which is undoubtedly one of the earliest and most important in the history of Norman military architecture."[995] No apology, therefore, is needed for discussing the date of this celebrated structure, so long a subject of interest and of study both to English and to French archæologists.

As at Colchester and in other places, the very wildest theories have been generally advanced, and archæologists have only gradually sobered down till they have virtually agreed upon a date for this keep which is actually, I venture to think, less than a century wrong.

In his noble monograph upon the fortress, the basis of all subsequent accounts,[996] M. Deville enumerates, with contemptuous amusement (pp. 49, 268-272), the rival theories that it was built (1) by the Romans; (2) by "Clotaire I." in 553—the date 1553 on one of the additions for the structure having actually been so read; (3) by "Charles Martel" in 745, 747, or 749 (on the strength of another reading of the same date, confirmed by a carving of his coat-of-arms)—these being the dates given by Houard and Toussaint-Duplessis. At the time when Deville himself wrote the study of castles was still in its infancy, and of the two sources of evidence now open to us, the internal (that of the structure itself) and the external (that of chronicles and records), the latter alone was ripe for use. Now, at Arques, precisely as at our own Rochester, the written evidence has hitherto appeared conflicting to archæologists, but only because the language employed has never yet been rightly understood. On the one hand we read in William of Jumièges, an excellent authority in the matter, that "Hic Willelmus [the Conqueror's uncle] castrum Archarum in cacumine ipsius montis condidit;" and in the Chronicle of Fontenelle, that this same William "Arcas castrum in pago Tellau primus statuit;" also, in William of Poitiers, that "id munimentum ... ipse primus fundavit:" on the other, we read in Robert du Mont, a first-rate and contemporary authority, who may indeed be termed a specialist on the subject, that "Anno MCXXIII. castellum quod vocatur Archas turre et mœnibus mirabiliter firmavit [Rex Henricus]."[997]

M. de Caumont, that industrious pioneer, whose work appeared four years before that of M. Deville, boldly followed Robert du Mont, and confidently assigned the existing keep to 1123.[998] Guided, however, by M. Le Prévost (1824), he held that the original structure was raised by the Conqueror's uncle, and that Henry I. merely "fit reconstruire en entier le donjon et une partie des murs d'enceinte." M. Deville, on the contrary, in his eager zeal for the honour and glory of the castle, stoutly maintained that, keep and all, it was clearly Count William's work. He admitted that his Norman brother-antiquaries assigned it to Henry I., but urged that they had overlooked the evidence of the structure, and its resemblance to English keeps assigned (but, as we now know, wrongly) to the eleventh century, or earlier;[999] and that they had misunderstood the passage in Robert du Mont, which must have referred to mere alterations. In order thus to explain it away, he contends (and this contention Mr. Clark strangely accepts) that Robert says the same—which he does not—of "Gisors, Falaise, and other castles known"—which they are not[1000]—"to be of earlier date" (M. M. A., i. 194). Lastly, he appeals, though with an apology for doing so ("s'il nous était permis d'invoquer à l'appui de notre opinion"), to the far later "Chronique de Normandie" for actual evidence, elsewhere wanting, that the keep itself (turris) was built by William of Arques,[1001] that is, in 1039-1043.[1002]

"I went over the castle minutely," Professor Freeman writes, "in May, 1868, with M. Deville's book in hand, and can bear witness to the accuracy of his description, though I cannot always accept his inferences" (N. C., iii. 124, note). He accordingly doubts M. Deville's date for the gateway and walls of the inner ward, but sees "no reason to doubt that the ruined keep is part of the original work" (ibid.). We must remember, however, that the Professor is at direct variance with Mr. Clark on the Norman rectangular keeps, for which he claims an earlier origin than the latter can concede.

Turning now to Mr. Clark himself, we learn from him that—

"it seems probable that the keep is the oldest part of the masonry, and the work of the Conqueror's uncle, Guillaume d'Arques, and it is supposed to be one of the earliest, if not the earliest, of the rectangular keeps known" (M. M. A., i. 194).

He adds that the passage in Robert du Mont

"has been held to show that the whole structure was the work of Henry, who reigned from 1105 (sic) to 1135, and the extreme boldness of the buttresses and superincumbent constructions of the keep no doubt favour this view; but, as M. Deville remarks in the same passage, similar reference is made to Gisors, Falaise, and other castles, known to be of earlier date" (ibid.).

To resume. The external or written evidence is as follows. On the one hand, we have the clear and positive statement of a contemporary writer, Robert du Mont, that Henry I. built this keep in 1123. On the other, we have no statement from any contemporary that it was built by William of Arques (in 1039-1043). He is merely credited with founding the castellum, and in none of the contemporary accounts of its blockade and capture by his nephew is there any mention of a turris. The distinction between a castellum and a turris, with their respective independence, has not, as I have shown, hitherto been realized, and it is quite in the spirit of older students that M. Deville confidently exclaims—

"Or, conçoit-on un château-fort sans murailles? Un château-fort sans donjon, dans le cours du XIVᵉ siècle, en Normandie, n'est guère plus rationnel" (p. 310).

As to the "murailles," Mr. Clark has taught us that palisades were not replaced by walls till a good deal later than has been usually supposed; and as to the "donjon," if, as I have established, so important a fortress as Rochester was without a keep in the eleventh, and indeed well into the twelfth century, other castella must have been similarly destitute—probably, for instance, Newcastle, as we have seen, and certainly Exeter, of which Mr. Clark writes: "There is no evidence of a keep, nor, at so great a height, was any needed" (M. M. A., ii. 47). The same argument from strength of position would à fortiori apply to Arques, and there is, in short, no reason for doubting that the castrum of William of Arques need not have included a turris.[1003]

On what, then, rests the assertion that the keep was the work of the Conqueror's uncle? Strange as it may seem, it rests solely on the so-called Chronique de Normandie, an anonymous production, not of the eleventh, but of the fourteenth century! "Si fist faire une tour moult forte audessus du chastel d'Arques," runs the passage, which is quoted by Mr. Clark (i. 194), from Deville (pp. 311, 312), who, however, apologized for appealing to that authority. This "Chronique" is admitted to have been based on the poetical histories of Wace and Benoit de St. More, themselves written several generations later than the alleged erection of this keep. Of the former, Mr. Freeman holds that, except where repeating contemporary authorities, "his statements need to be very carefully weighed" (N. C., ii. 162); and of the latter, that he is "of much smaller historical authority" (ibid.). To this I may add that, in my opinion, Wace, writing as he did in the reign of Henry II., at the close of the great tower-building epoch, spoke loosely of towers, when mentioning castles, as if they had been equally common in the reign of the Conqueror. A careful inspection of his poem will be found to verify this statement. "La tur d'Arques" was standing when he wrote: consequently he talks of "La tur d'Arques" when describing the Conqueror's blockade of the castle in 1053. There is no contemporary authority for its existence at that date.[1004]

And now let us pass from documentary evidence to that of the structure itself. We may call Mr. Clark himself to witness that the presumption is against so early a date as 1039-1043. He tells us, of the rectangular keep in general, that—

"not above half a dozen examples can be shown with certainty to have been constructed in Normandy before the latter part of the eleventh century, and but very few, if any, before the English conquest" (i. 35).

Therefore, on Mr. Clark's own showing, we ought to ask for conclusive evidence before admitting that any rectangular keep is as old as 1039-1043. But what was the impression produced on him by an inspection of the structure itself? This is a most significant fact. While rejecting, apparently on what he believed to be documentary evidence, the theory that the keep (turris) was the work of Henry I., he confessed that the features of the building "no doubt favour this view" (i. 194, ut supra).

But leaving, for the present, Mr. Clark's views, to which I shall return below, I take my stand without hesitation on certain features in this keep. It is not needful to visit Arques—I have myself never done so—to appreciate their true significance and their bearing on the question of the date. The first of these is the forebuilding. Mr. Clark tells us that Arques possesses "the usual square appendage or forebuilding common in these keeps" (M. M. A., i. 198). But this unscientific treatment of the forebuilding, ignoring so completely its origin and development, cannot too strongly be resisted. Restricting ourselves to the case before us, we at once observe the peculiarity of an external staircase, not only leading up to a forebuilding, through which the keep is entered, but actually carried, through a massive buttress, round an angle of the keep.[1005] Rochester being believed to be the work of Gundulf, in the days when M. Deville wrote, it was natural that he should have supposed "cette savante combinaison" to have been familiar to Gundulf (p. 299). But now that, on these points, we are better informed, let us ask where can Mr. Clark produce an instance of this elaborate and striking device as old even as the days of Gundulf, to say nothing of those of Count William (1039-1043)? Where we do find it is in such keeps as Dover, the work of Henry II., or Rochester, where the resemblance is even more remarkable. Now, Rochester, as we know, was actually built within a few years of the date given by Robert du Mont, and upheld by me, as that of the construction of Arques. Oddly enough, it is Mr. Clark himself who thus points out another resemblance:—

"In the basement of the forebuilding ... was a vaulted chamber, opening into the basement of the keep, as at Rochester, either a store or prison" (M. M. A., p. 188).

Lastly, both at Arques and at Rochester, we find on the first floor, near the entrance, the very peculiar feature of a smaller doorway communicating with the rampart of the curtain.[1006] This parallel, which is not alluded to by Mr. Clark, is the more remarkable, as such a device is foreign to the earlier rectangular keeps, and also implies that the keep must have been built certainly no earlier, and possibly later, than the curtain, which curtain, Mr. Clark, as we shall find, admits, cannot be so old as the days of Count William.

No one, in short, unbiassed by supposed documentary evidence, could study this keep, with its "petites galeries avec d'autres petites chambres ou prisons pratiquées dans l'épaisseur des murs"[1007] (as at Rochester), with the elaborate defences of its entrance, and with those other special features which made even Mr. Clark uneasy, without rejecting as incredible the accepted view that it was built by Count William of Arques (1039-1043). And this being so, there is, admittedly, no alternative left but to assign it to Henry I. (1123), the date specifically given by Robert du Mont himself.

But, it may be urged, though there is nothing improbable in Mr. Freeman being wrong, is it conceivable that so unrivalled an expert as Mr. Clark himself can have mistaken a keep of 1123 for one of 1039-1043, when we remember the wonderful development of these structures in the course of those eighty years? To this objection, I fear, there is a singularly complete answer in the case of Newcastle, where, as we have seen, he was led by the same misconception into no less amazing an error.[1008]

In short, the view I have brought forward as to the separate existence of "tower" and "castle" may be said, from these examples, to revolutionize the study of Norman military architecture.

APPENDIX P. THE EARLY ADMINISTRATION OF LONDON.

(See p. 151.)

The new light which is thrown by the charters granted to Geoffrey upon a subject so interesting and so obscure as the government and status of London during the Norman period requires, for its full appreciation, detailed and separate treatment. But, before advancing my own conclusions, it is absolutely needful to dispose of that singular accretion of error which has grown, by gradual degrees, around the recorded facts.[1009]

The cardinal error has been the supposition that when the citizens of London, under Henry I., were given Middlesex ad firmam, the "Middlesex" in question was only Middlesex exclusive of London. The actual words of the charter are these:—

"Sciatis me concessisse civibus meis London[iarum], tenendum Middlesex ad firmam pro ccc libris ad compotum, ipsis et hæredibus suis de me et hæredibus meis ita quod ipsi cives ponent vicecomitem qualem voluerint de se ipsis; et justitiarium qualem voluerint de se ipsis, ad custodiendum placita coronæ meæ et eadem placitanda, et nullus alius erit justitiarius super ipsos homines London[iarum]."

Now, it is absolutely certain that the shrievalty (vicecomitatus) and the ferm (firma) mentioned in this passage are the shrievalty and the ferm not of Middlesex apart from London, nor of London apart from Middlesex, but of "London and Middlesex." For there is never, from the first, but one ferm. It is here called the ferm of "Middlesex;" in the almost contemporary Pipe-Roll (31 Hen. I.) it is called the ferm of "London" (there being no ferm of Middlesex mentioned); and Geoffrey's charters clinch the matter. For while Stephen grants him "the shrievalties of London and Middlesex,"[1010] the Empress, in her turn, grants him "the shrievalty of London and Middlesex."[1011] Further, the Pipe-Rolls of Henry II. describe this same firma both as the ferm of "London," and as that of "London and Middlesex;" while in the Roll of 8 Ric. I. we find the phrase, "de veteri firma Comitat' Lond' et Middelsexa." Lastly, the charter of Henry III. grants to the citizens of London—

"Vicecomitatum Londoniæ et de Middelsexia, cum omnibus rebus et consuetudinibus quæ pertinent ad predictum Vicecomitatum, infra civitatem et extra per terras et aquas; ... Reddendo inde annuatim ... trescentas libras sterlingorum blancorum.[1012]

And so, to this day, the shrievalty is that of "London and Middlesex."[1013]

The royal writs and charters hear the same witness. When they are directed to the local authorities, it is to those of "London and Middlesex," or of "London," or of "Middlesex." The three are, for all purposes, used as equivalent terms. There was never, as I have said, but one ferm, and never but one shrievalty.[1014]

Now, this completely disposes of the view that the "Middlesex" of Henry I.'s charter was Middlesex apart from London. This prevalent but erroneous assumption has proved the cause of much confusion and misunderstanding of the facts of the case. It has nowhere, perhaps, been assigned such prominence as in that account of London by Mr. Loftie which may derive authority in the eyes of some from the editorial imprimatur of Mr. Freeman.[1015] We there read as follows:—

"It may be as well, before we proceed, to remember one thing. That London is not in Middlesex, that it never was in Middlesex, ... is a fact of which we have to be constantly reminded" (p. 125).

From this interpretation of the "Middlesex" of the charter, it, of course, followed that the writer took the firma of £300 to be paid in respect of Middlesex exclusive of London.[1016] We need not wonder, therefore, that to him the grant is difficult to understand. Here are his comments on its terms:—

"If we could estimate the reasons which led to this grant with any degree of certainty, we should understand better what the citizens expected to gain by it besides rights of jurisdiction.... The meaning and nature of the grant are subjects of which we should like to know more. But here we can obtain little help from books ... and we may inquire in vain for a definition of the position and duties of the sheriff who acts for the citizens in their subject county.... There must have been advantages to accrue from the payment by London of £300 a year, a sum which, small as it seems to us, was a heavy tax in those days. We may be sure the willing citizens expected to obtain correspondingly valuable liberties" (pp. 121-123).

Then follow various conjectures, all of them necessarily wide of the mark. And as with the ferm, so with the sheriff. Mr. Loftie, taking the sheriff (vicecomes) in question to be a sheriff of Middlesex exclusive of London (which he hence terms a "subject county"), is of necessity baffled by the charter. For by it the citizens are empowered to appoint (a) a "vicecomes," (b) a "justitiarius." As the "vicecomes," according to his view, had nothing to do with the City itself, Mr. Loftie has to account for "the omission of any reference to the portreeve in the charter," his assumption being that the City itself was at this time governed by a portreeve. Though his views are obscurely expressed, his solutions of the problem are as follows. In his larger work he dismisses the supposition that the "justitiarius" of the charter was the "chief magistrate" of the City, i.e. the portreeve, because the citizens must have been "already" entitled to elect that officer. Yet in his later work, with equal confidence, he tells us that by "justitiarius" the portreeve is "evidently intended." The fact is that he is really opposing two different suppositions; the one that Henry granted by his charter the right to elect a portreeve, the other that he did not grant it, but retained the appointment in his hands. Mr. Loftie first denies the former, and then, in his later work, asserts the former to deny the latter. But really his language is so confused that it is doubtful whether he realized himself the contradictory drift of his two arguments, both based on the same assumption, which "it is manifestly absurd," we learn, to dispute.[1017] And the strange part of the business is this, What is the "proof" that Mr. Loftie offers for the later of his two hypotheses? If the "trial" to which he refers had ever taken place at all, and, still more, if it had taken place before 1115, the fact would have an important bearing. But, in the first place, he has wrongly assigned to the record too early a date, and, in the second, it represents Gilbert Prutfot, not as a judge, but as a culprit. The expression used is, "Terra quam Gillebertus Prutfot nobis disfortiat."[1018] Now "defortiare" (or "disfortiare") is rendered by Dr. Stubbs, in his Select Charters (p. 518), "to deforce, to dispossess by violence." We have here, therefore, an interesting, because early, example of the legal offence of "deforcement," defined by Johnson as "a withholding of lands and tenements by force from the right owner." But the point to which I would call attention is that, even if this writer were correct in his facts (which he is not), his "proof" that (a vicecomes and a justitiarius being mentioned in the charter) the justitiarius was "evidently" the portreeve consists in the fact that a vicecomes had "given judgment" in a trial, and being styled vicecomes, was the portreeve! That is to say, the justitiarius must have been the portreeve because the portreeve was styled (not "justitiarius," but, on the contrary,) vicecomes. Such is actually his argument.[1019]

I have dwelt thus fully on these observations, because they illustrate the hopeless wandering which is the inevitable result of the adoption of the above fundamental error.

We have a curiously close parallel to this use of "London and Middlesex" in the expression "turris et castellum," on which I have elsewhere dwelt.[1020] Just as the relative importance of the "Tower" of London to the encircling "castle" at its feet led to the term "turris" alone being used to describe the two,—while, conversely, in the provinces, "castellum" was the term adopted,—so did the relative greatness of London to the county that lay around its walls lead to the occasional use of "London" as a term descriptive of both together, a usage impossible in the provinces. Whether a "turris et castellum" were destined to become known as a "turris" or a "castellum," whether "Londonia et Middelsex" were described as "Londonia" merely, or as "Middlesex," in each case the entity is the same. For fiscal, and therefore for our purposes, "London and Middlesex," under whatever name, remain one and indivisible.

The special value of the charters granted to Geoffrey de Mandeville lies not so much in their complete confirmation of the view that the firma of "Middlesex" was that of "London and Middlesex" (for that would be evident without them), as in their proof of the fact, so strangely overlooked, that this connection was at least as old as the days of William the Conqueror, and in their treatment of Middlesex (including London) as an ordinary county like Essex or Herts, "farmed" in precisely the same way. The firma of Herts was £60, of Essex £300, and of Middlesex (because containing London) £300 also.

But now let us leave our record evidence and turn to geography and to common sense. What must have always been the salient feature which distinguished Middlesex internally from every other county? Obviously, that the shire was abnormally small, and its chief town abnormally large. Nor was it a mere matter of size, but, still more, of comparative wealth. This is illustrated by the taxation recorded in the Pipe-Roll of 1130. Unlike the firma, the taxes were raised, as elsewhere, from the town and the shire respectively, the town contributing an auxilium, and the shire, without the walls, a Danegeld. We thus learn that London paid a sum about half as large again as that raised from the rest of the shire.[1021] The normal relation of the "shire" to the "port" was accordingly here reversed, and so would be also, in consequence, that of the shire-reeve to the portreeve. Where, as usual, the "port" formed but a small item in the corpus comitatus, it was possible to sever it from the rest of the county, to place it extra firmam, and to give it a reeve who should stand towards it in the same relation as the shire-reeve to the shire, and would therefore be termed the "portreeve." But to have done this in the case of Middlesex would have been to reverse the nature of things, to place a mere "portreeve" in a position greater than that of the "shire-reeve" himself. This is why that change which, in the provinces, was the aim of every rising town, never took place in the case of London, though the greatest town of all. I say that it "never took place," for, as we have seen, the city of London was never severed from the rest of the shire. As far back as we can trace them, they are found one and indivisible.

What, then, was the alternative? Simply this. The "reeve," who, in the case of a normal county, took his title from the "shire" and not from the "port," took it, in the abnormal case of Middlesex, from the "port" and not from the "shire." In each case both "port" and "shire" were alike within his jurisdiction; in each case he took his style from the most important part of that jurisdiction. Such is the original solution I offer for this most interesting problem, and I claim that its acceptance will explain everything, will harmonize with all existing data, and will dispose of difficulties which, hitherto, it has been impossible to surmount.

My contention is, briefly, that the Norman vicecomes of "London," or "Middlesex," or "London and Middlesex" was simply the successor, in that office, of the Anglo-Saxon "portreeve." With the sphere of the vicecomes I have already dealt, and though we are not in a position similarly to prove the sphere of the Anglo-Saxon "portreeve," I might appeal to the belief of Mr. Loftie himself that "Ulf the Sheriff of Middlesex is identical with Ulf the Portreeve of London"[1022] (though he adds, contrary to my contention, that "as yet their official connection was only that of neighbourhood"),[1023] and that Ansgar, though one of the "portreeves" (p. 24); "was Sheriff of Middlesex for a time there can be no doubt" (p. 127).[1024] But I would rather appeal to the vital fact that the shire-reeve and the portreeve are, so far I know, never mentioned together, and that writs are directed to a portreeve or to a shire-reeve,[1025] but never to both. Specially would I insist upon the indisputable circumstance that such writs as were addressed to the "portreeve" by the Anglo-Saxon kings, were addressed to the vicecomes by the Norman, and that the turning-point is seen under the Conqueror himself, whose Anglo-Saxon charter is addressed to the "bisceop" and the "portirefan," and whose Latin writs are, similarly, addressed to the episcopus and the vicecomes. More convincing evidence it would not be easy to find.

The acceptance of this view will at once dispose of the alleged "disappearance of the portreeve," with the difficulties it has always presented, and the conjectures to which it has given rise.[1026] The style of the "portreeve" indeed disappears, but his office does not. In the person of the Norman vicecomes, it preserves an unbroken existence. Geoffrey de Mandeville steps, as sheriff, into the shoes of Ansgar the portreeve.[1027]

The problem as to what became of the portreeve, a problem which has exercised so many minds, sprang from the delusion that in the Norman period the City must have had a portreeve for governor independent of the Sheriff of Middlesex. I term this an undoubted "delusion," because I have already made it clear that the City was part of the sheriff's jurisdiction and contributed its share to his firma. There was, therefore, no room for an independent portreeve; nor indeed does a "portreeve" of London, I believe, ever occur after the Conqueror's charter.

But we must here glance at the contrary view set forth by Mr. Loftie:—

"The succession of portreeves is uninterrupted. We have the names of some of them in the records of the Exchequer. Occasionally two or three, once as many as five, came to answer for the City and pay the £300 which was the farm of Middlesex. In 1129, a few years only after the retirement of Orgar and his companions, we read of 'quatuor vicecomites' as attending for London. The following year we hear of a single 'camerarius.' The 'Hugh Buche' of Stowe may be identified with the Hugo de Bock of the St. Paul's documents, and his 'Richard de Par' with Richard the younger, the chamberlain. 'Par' is probably a misreading for Parvus contracted. In the reign of Stephen two members of the Buckerel family hold office, and we have Fulcred and Robert, who were related to each other. Another early portreeve was Wluardus, who attends at the Exchequer in 1138, and who continued to be an alderman thirty years later" (Historic Towns: London, p. 34).

Where are "the records of the Exchequer" from which we learn all this? The only Pipe-Roll of the period is that of 1130, in which "the farm of Middlesex" is not £300, but a much larger sum, a fact which, as we shall find, has a most important bearing. The "quatuor vicecomites" appear "as attending," not in 1129, but in 1130. The "camerarius" does not (and could not) appear "in the following year," but, on the contrary, belonged to a preceding one ("Willelmus qui fuit camerarius de veteribus debitis"); nor does he account for the firma. The firma was always accounted for by "vicecomites," and not (as implied on p. 108) by a chamberlain, or by a "prefect." The "Hugh Buche" is given in Mr. Loftie's former work (p. 98) as "Hugh de Buch." He is meant (as even Foss perceived) for the well-known Hugh de Bocland (the minister of Henry I.), who cannot be shown to have been a "portreeve." No "Hugo de Bock" occurs in the St. Paul's documents, which only mention "Hugo de Bochelanda" and "Hugo de Bock[elanda]," the latter imperfection being the source of the error. "Richard, the younger, chamberlain" only occurs in these documents a century later (1204-1215), and "the younger," I presume, there translates "juvenis," and not "parvus." It is, moreover, quite certain that Stowe's "de Par" was not "a misreading for 'parvus' contracted," but for "delpare," as may easily be ascertained. No member of the Bucherel family occurs in these documents as holding office "in the reign of Stephen," though some do in the next century. Fulcred was not a "portreeve," but a "chamberlain;" and Robert, Fulcred's brother, was neither one nor the other. But what are we to say to "Wluardus" the portreeve, "who attends at the Exchequer in 1138"? Where are the "records of the Exchequer for 1138"? They are known to Mr. Loftie alone.[1028] Moreover, his identification, here, of the vicecomes with the portreeve is in direct antagonism to the principle laid down just before (p. 29), that, on the contrary, it was the justitiarius who should "evidently" be identified with the portreeve (see p. 350, supra).

Perhaps the assumption of a portreeve's existence springs from forgetfulness or misapprehension of the condition of London at the time. Its corporate unity, we must always remember, had not yet been developed. As Dr. Stubbs so truly observes, London was only

"a bundle of communities, townships, parishes, and lordships, of which each has its own constitution."[1029]

I cannot indeed agree with him in his view that the result of the charter of Henry I. was to replace this older system by a new "shire organization."[1030] For my contention is that our great historian not only misdates the charter in question, but also misunderstands it (though not so seriously as others), and that it made no difference in the "organization" at all. But I would cordially endorse these his words:—

"No new incorporation is bestowed: the churches, the barons, the citizens retain their ancient customs; the churches their sokens, the barons their manors, the citizens their township organization, and possibly their guilds. The municipal unity which they possess is of the same sort as that of the county and hundred."[1031]