Part 45
At the present moment there is no need for arguments which insist upon the immutable character of ancient agrarian arrangements. If we take up a map of a common field drawn in the eighteenth century, the lines that we see upon it are in the main very old. The scheme seems fashioned for the purpose of resisting change and compelling the men of one age to till the land as their fathers tilled it. Nothing but an unanimous agreement among those who are not likely to agree can break up that prison-house of cells in which agriculture has been cramped and confined. Rather, it may be, the student who is perusing the 'estate map' and who is fascinated by the possession of a new tool for picking historical locks, should warn himself that, though there has been permanence, there has also been change, and that in a far-off time changes of a certain sort came quickly. True that in the current of agricultural progress there is a rapid acceleration as it flows towards our own day. We may easily go back to an age when the introduction of a new process or new implement was rare. On the other hand, if we fix our attention on the map of any one village and contemplate its strips and balks and virgates, the hazard involved in an assumption of their antiquity will increase swiftly when we have left behind us the advent of Duke William and are urging our inferential career towards Hengest or, it may be, towards Cæsar.
[Rapidity of change in old times.]
Let us look, for example, at the changes that take place in some Essex villages during the twenty years that precede the Domesday Inquest. The following table shows them:
Villani Bordarii Servi Lord's Men's teams teams
Teidana[1217], T. R. E. 5 3 4 2 4 T. R. W. 1 17 0 3 3
Waldena[1218], T. R. E. 66 17 16 8 22 T. R. W. 46 40 20 10 22
Hame[1219], T. R. E. 32 16 3 5 8 T. R. W. 48 79 3 4 12
Benefelda[1220], T. R. E. 10 2 7 3 7 T. R. W. 9 11 4 3 4
Wimbeis[1221], T. R. E. 26 18 6 3 21 T. R. W. 26 55 0 3 15
These are but specimens of the obscure little revolutions that are being accomplished in the Essex villages. In general there has been a marked increase in the number of _bordarii_, at the expense of the villeins on the one part and the serfs on the other[1222], and this, whatever else it may represent, must tell us of a redistribution of tenements, perhaps of a process that substitutes the half-virgate for the virgate as the average holding of an Essex peasant. The jar of conquest has made such revolutions easy[1223].
[Devastation of villages.]
But, it will be said, though the 'bundles' of strips be cut in half, the main features of the field remain constant. Let us, however, look at Yorkshire, where for fifteen years an immense tract of land has been lying 'waste.' Have we any reason to believe that when agriculture slowly steals back into this desert there will be a mere restoration of the defaced map? Surely not. If for a few years an 'open field' lies waste, there will be no mere restoration. For one thing, many of the old outlines will have utterly vanished. Even if the acres were already divided by the so-called 'balks' (and we can not be sure that they always were[1224]), the balk was but a narrow strip of unploughed sward and would hardly be perceptible when the whole field was once more a sheet of grass and weeds. For another thing, new settlers would probably begin by ploughing only a small portion of the old field. It is likely enough that their measuring rod would not be even approximately equal to the rod employed in a previous century, and they would have ample opportunity for the introduction of novelties, for the substitution of three fields for two and for all that such a change implies. Now William's deliberate devastation of the north is but one final and grandiose exploit of an ancient kind of warfare. After his day agrarian history becomes more stable because invasions cease and the character of civil warfare changes. The strife between York and Lancaster, between King and Parliament, passes like a thunderstorm over the fields; it damages the crops; but that is all, and Bosworth 'Field' and Naseby 'Field' will next year be tilled in the same old way. A raid of the Danes, a feud between Angle and Saxon, was a different affair. The peasants fought. Men, women and children were sold as slaves. Also there was deliberate devastation. 'They make a wilderness and call it peace.' What else should they call it, when a foodless wilderness is the most scientific of all frontiers? Readers of the English Chronicle will doubt whether there is any village in England that has not been once, or more than once, a deserted village. And if we must reckon with war, there is famine also to be reckoned with. When in a few brief words the English Chronicler tells us that in 1043 there was mickle hunger in the land so that the sestar of corn sold for sixty pence and even more[1225], he is, like enough, telling us of a disaster which depopulated many a village and forced many a villager to bow his head for meat in those evil days[1226]. Agrarian history becomes more catastrophic as we trace it backwards.
[Village colonies.]
And, putting on one side the ravages of war and famine, we must call to mind the numerous hints that our map gives us of village colonization[1227]. Men did not make two contiguous villages at one time and call them both Hamton. Names are given to places in order that they may be distinguished from neighbouring places. So when we see two different villages, called Hamton and Other Hamton, lying next each other, we may be fairly certain that they are not of equal antiquity, and it is not unlikely that the one is the offshoot and daughter of the other[1228]. There are about one hundred and fifty Newtons and Newtowns in England. Every instance of colonization, every new settlement in the woods, gave scope for the introduction of novelties, such scope as was not to be found in after days when men stood thicker on the soil and all the best land was already tilled[1229].
[Antiquity of the three-field system.]
Therefore we must not trust a method of husbandry or a scheme of land-measures much further than we can see it. Nothing, for example, could be rasher than the assumption that the 'three-course system' of tillage was common in the England of the seventh century[1230]. We have a little evidence that it was practised in the eleventh[1231], perhaps some evidence, that it was not unknown in the ninth[1232]. But 'the two-course system' can be traced as far[1233], and seems to have been as common, if not commoner, in the thirteenth century[1234]. If on a modern map we see a village with 'trinity fields,' we must not at once decide that those who laid them out sowed two in every year, for it is well within the bounds of possibility that two were left idle[1235]. An agriculture of this kind was not unknown in the Yorkshire of the fourteenth century[1236], and indeed we read that in the eighteenth 'one crop and two fallows' was the traditional course in the open field of a Suffolk village[1237].
[Differences between the different shires.]
We have time enough on our hands. Between Domesday Book and the withdrawal of the legions lies as long an interval as that which separates the Conqueror from Mr Arthur Young. Also we have space enough on our hands. Any theory that would paint all England as plotted out for proprietary and agricultural purposes in accordance with a single pattern would be of all theories the least probable. We need not contrast Kent with Westmoreland, or Cornwall with Norfolk, for our maps seem to tell us that Somerset differed from Wiltshire and Dorset. The settlement of a heathen folk loosely banded together under a war-lord was one thing; the conquest of a new province by a Christian king who was advised by foreign bishops and had already been taught that he had land to 'book,' would be another thing. If, as seems possible, we read in Ine's laws of a 'plantation' of some parts of Somerset effected by means of large allotments made to the king's gesiths, who undertake to put tillers on the soil[1238], we must not at once infer that this is an old procedure, for it may be very new, and may have for its outcome an agrarian arrangement strikingly unlike that which existed in the heart of the older Wessex.
[New and old villages.]
Moreover there are upon the face of our map many cases which seem to tell us that in the oldest days the smallest district that bore a name was often large, and therefore that the territory which subserved a single group of homesteads was often spacious. One example we will take from Norfolk. We find a block of land that now-a-days consists of eleven parishes, namely, Wiggenhall St. Mary the Virgin, Wiggenhall St. German, Wiggenhall St. Peter, Wiggenhall St. Mary Magdalen, Tilney cum Islington, Tilney All Saints, Tilney St. Lawrence, Terrington St. Clement, Terrington St. John, Walpole St. Peter, Walpole St. Andrew[1239]. In such a case we can hardly suppose that all these villages belong to the same age, even if we are not entitled to infer that the later villages were not founded until the day for parish churches had arrived. This being so, it is highly probable that some villages were formed at all stages of the feudalizing process, and therefore that a historical account of 'the' English township, or even of 'the' English nucleated village, would of necessity be untrue. And, while this East Anglian specimen is still before us, we may notice another interesting trait. In the Marshland Fen there is a considerable tract of ground which consists of 'detached portions' of these and other villages. Each has been given a block there, a fairly rectangular block. At one point the partition is minute. A space of less than 36 acres has been cut up so that no less than six villages shall have a piece, a rectangular piece of it[1240]. It seems very possible that this fen has at some time been common ground for all these villages, and, as already said, it is in this quarter that we may perhaps find traces of something that resembled the 'marks' of Germany[1241]. The science of village morphology is still very young, and we must not be led away into any discussion of its elements; but there is the more reason why we should take to heart those warnings that it already gives us, because what we can read of hides is to be found for the more part in documents proceeding from a central power, which, for governmental and fiscal purposes, endeavours to preserve fictitious continuity and uniformity in the midst of change and variety. However, we must draw nearer to our task.
[History of measures.]
As regards land measurement, we may be fairly certain that in the days before the Norman Conquest there was little real, though much nominal uniformity. The only measures for the size of things with which nature has equipped the natural man are his limbs. For the things that he handles he uses his thumb, span, cubit, ell; for the ground upon which he walks, his foot and his pace. For large spaces and long distances he must have recourse to 'time-labour-units,' to the day's journey and the morning's ploughing. Then gradually, under the fostering care of government, steady equations are established between these units:--twelve thumbs, for instance, are to make a foot. Thus the measures for land are brought into connexion with the more delicate measures used for cloth and similar stuff. Then an attempt to obtain some standard less variable than the limb may forge a link between thumbs and grains of corn. Another device is the measuring rod. One rod will represent the arm of an average man; a longer rod may serve to mediate between the foot which is short and the acre or day's ploughing which is large. In laying out a field in such wise that it shall consist of equal pieces, each of which can be ploughed in a forenoon, we naturally use a rod. We say, for example, that to plough a strip that is 4 rods wide and 40 long is a fair day's work. For some while there is no reason why the rods employed in two neighbouring villages should be strictly or even approximately equal[1242]. Taxation is the great force that makes for standard land measures. Then a king declares how many thumbs there ought to be in the cloth-ell or cloth-yard. At a later time he actually makes cloth-ells or cloth-yards and distributes them, keeping an ultimate standard in his own palace. Thenceforward all other units tend to become mere fractions or multiples of this royal stick. The foot is a third, the thumb or inch a thirty-sixth part thereof. Five and a half cloth-measuring yards make a royal land-measuring rod. Plot out a space which is four rods by forty, you will have an acre.
[Slow growth of uniformity.]
The whole story, if ever it be told at length, will be intricate; but we believe that a general persuasion that land-measurements ought to be fixed by law and by reference to some one carefully preserved standard is much more modern than most people think. Real accuracy and the establishment of a measure that is to be common to the whole realm first emerge in connexion with the measurement of cloth and such like. There is a delightful passage in the old Scotch laws which tells us that the ell ought to contain 37 inches meted by the thumbs of three men, 'þat is to say, a mekill man and a man of messurabill statur and of a lytill man[1243].' We have somewhere read that in Germany, if a perch of fifteen feet was to be manufactured, the first fifteen people who chanced to come out of church contributed each a foot towards the construction of the standard. At an early time, however, men were trying to find some class of small things which were of a fairly invariable length and hit upon barley-corns. This seems to have happened in England before the Norman Conquest[1244]. Instead of taking the 'thoume' of 'a man of messurabill statur' for your inch, you are to take three barley-corns, 'iii bear cornys gud and chosyn but tayllis (i.e. without the tails)'[1245]. But the twelfth century was drawing to an end before any decisive step was taken to secure uniformity even in the measurement of cloth. In Richard I.'s day guardians of weights and measures are to be appointed in every county, city and borough; they are to keep iron _ulnae_[1246]. At this time or a little later these _ulnae_, ells or cloth-yards were being delivered out by a royal officer to all who might require them, and that officer had the custody of the ultimate standards[1247]. We may doubt whether the laws which require in general terms that there shall be one measure throughout the realm had measures of land in view[1248]. A common standard is not nearly as necessary in this case as it is in the case of cloth. Even in our own day men do not buy land by the acre or the perch in the same sense as that in which they buy cloth or cotton by the yard. Very rarely will anyone name a price for a rood and leave it to the other bargainer to decide which out of many roods shall be included in the sale. Nevertheless, the distribution of iron _ulnae_ was important. An equation was established between the cloth measure and the land measure: five-and-a-half _ulnae_ or cloth-yards make one royal perch. After this we soon find that land is occasionally measured by the iron _ulna_ of the king[1249].
[Superficial measure.]
The scheme of computation that we know as 'superficial measure' was long in making itself part of the mental furniture of the ordinary man. Such terms as 'square rod' and 'square mile' were not current, nor such equations as that which tells us how 144 square inches make a square foot. Whatever may have been the attainments of some cloistered mathematicians, the man of business did not suppose that he could talk of size without talking of shape, and indeed a set of terms which speak of shapeless size is not very useful until men have enough of geometry and trigonometry to measure spaces that are not rectangular parallelograms. The enlightened people of the thirteenth century can say that if an acre is _x_ perches long it is _y_ perches wide[1250]. They can compare the size of spaces if all the lines be straight and all the angles right; and for them an acre is no longer of necessity ten times as long as it is broad. But they will not tell us (and they do not think) that an acre contains _z_ 'square perches.' This is of some importance to students of Domesday Book. Very often the size of a tract of land is indicated by the length of two lines:--The wood or the pasture is _x_ leagues (furlongs, perches, feet) in length and _y_ in breadth. Now, to say the least, we are hasty if we treat this as a statement which gives us size without shape. It is not all one to say that a wood is a league long and a league wide and to say that it is two leagues long and half a league wide. The jurors are not speaking of superficial content, they are speaking of length and breadth, and they are either giving us the extreme diameters of the irregularly shaped woods and pastures, or (and this seems more probable) they are making rough estimates of mean diameters. If we go back to an earlier time, the less we think of 'superficial measure' the better[1251].
[The modern system.]
Let us recall the main features of our modern system, giving them the names that they bore in medieval Latin.
_Linear Measure._
12 inches (_pollices_)=1 foot (_pes_); 3 feet=1 yard (_ulna_); 5·5 yards=1 rod, pole, perch (_virga_, _pertica_, _perca_); 40 perches=1 furlong (_quarentina_); 8 furlongs=1 mile (_mille_); 12 furlongs=1 _leuua_, _leuca_, _leuga_ (league)[1252].
_Superficial Measure._
144 square inches=1 square foot; 9 square feet=1 square yard; 30·25 square yards=1 square perch; 40 square perches=1 rood; 4 roods=1 acre[1253].
In the thirteenth century these outlines are already drawn; but, as we have seen, if we are to breathe the spirit of the time, we ought to say (while admitting that acres may be variously shaped) that the normal acre is 4 perches in width and 40 perches (=1 furlong) in length. The only other space that we need consider is the quarter of an acre, our rood. That ought to be 1 perch in width and 1 furlong (=40 perches) in length. The breadth of the acre is still known to all Englishmen, for it is the distance between the wickets.
[The ancient elements of land measure.]
This system has been generated by the corelation of cloth-measures and land-measures. If we are going back to remote times, we must expel the cloth-measures as intruders. What then is left is very simple; it is this:--the human foot, a day's ploughing and a measuring stick which mediates between feet and acres. That stick has had many names. Our arithmetic books preserve three, 'rod, pole or perch'; it has also been known as a _gād_ or _goad_ and a _lug_: but probably its oldest name is _yard_ (_gyrd_). It is of some importance that we should perceive that our modern yard of three feet is not one of the very ancient land-measures. It is a 'cloth-yard' not a land-yard. In medieval documents the Latin name for it is _ulna_[1254], and probably the oldest English name for it is _eln_, _elle_, _ell_. There seems to have been a shifting of names. The measuring rod that was used for land had so many names, such as _perch_, _rod_, _pole_, _goad_, _lug_, that it could afford, if we may so speak, to dispense with the additional name of _yard_, which therefore might stand for the much shorter rod that was used by the clothiers. However, even in our own century men have been speaking of 'yards of land' in a manner which implies that at one time a yard, when mentioned in this context, was the same thing as the perch. When they have spoken of a 'yard of land' they have meant sometimes a quarter of an acre (our rood) and sometimes a much larger space. In 1820 a 'yard of land' means, we are told, a quarter of an acre in Wiltshire, while in Buckinghamshire it stands for a tract which varies from 28 to 40 acres[1255]. This last application of the term we shall consider by and by. A yard of land or rood of land (_rood_ and _rod_ are all one) is a quarter of an acre, because an acre is four rods or 'yards' or perches in width, and, when an acre is to be divided, it is always, and for a very good reason, divided by lines parallel to its long sides. So though the rood or yard of land may in course of time take other shapes and even become a shapeless size, it ought to be a rod or 'yard' in width and forty rods or one furlong in length.
[The German acre.]
So we start with the human foot, the day's ploughing and a rod. How much borrowing there has been in this matter by race from race is an obscure question. For example, the mediation of a rod between the foot and the day's work is common to the Roman and the Germanic systems. Here the similarity ends, and the vast differences which begin seem to have exceedingly deep roots. We can not be content with saying that the Roman puts two oxen in the plough and therefore draws short furrows, whereas the German puts eight oxen and draws long furrows. There seems to be a radical disagreement between them as to what a plough should be and what a plough should do[1256]. To these matters we can make but the slightest reference, nor dare we touch the problems of Celtic history. Somehow or another the Germans come to the rule that generally an acre or day's work should be four rods wide and, if possible, about forty rods long[1257].
[English acres.]
[Small acres.]