“That all might enjoy equal liberty”—Jocelyn’s words had a significance wider and deeper than he himself could know, wider and deeper than could be known perhaps even to his abbot from whom they were probably echoed; although it is clear from almost every page of Jocelyn’s story that Abbot Sampson of S. Edmund’s was a far more enlightened and far-seeing statesman than most of the great landowners of his day, whether secular or tonsured. The rural tenants of S. Edmund in his time had evidently made a good deal more progress towards enfranchisement than those of some other great houses, such as, for example, the abbey of Abingdon. In 1185, on the death of Abbot Roger of Abingdon, a dispute between the “obedientiaries,” or officers of the convent to whose support various portions of its revenues were assigned, and the steward appointed by the king to take charge of the abbot’s property during the vacancy of his office, led to the drawing-up of a consuetudinary,[2257] which it would be interesting to compare with the earlier “Black Book” of Peterborough. A large proportion of the tenants’ dues were paid in money; but there were still considerable remnants of the older system. The chamberlain of the abbey, for instance, had an acre of land at Culham, which the men of that township were bound to reap and carry to make beds for the monks. The hay to be laid “under the monks’ feet when they bathed” was supplied in like manner from a meadow at Stockgrave. A tenant named Daniel of Colebrook was bound, besides paying a rent of five shillings, to furnish the chamberlain whenever he went to London with hay for his horses, with wood and salt, and with straw for his bed. At Welsford, near Newbury, there were twenty-two “cotset-lands,” whose tenants held them by their services as swineherds, bedels (or messengers of the chamberlain’s court), shepherds, hedgewards and such like. Of eleven rent-paying tenants in the same township, one owed, besides his rent of twenty-seven pence, his personal service for getting in hay and stacking corn in August. As the whole township was in demesne, its inhabitants paid a tribute to the lord—in this case the chamberlain of the abbey—for the pannage of their pigs; they had also to furnish the services of one man for harvesting in August, and to lend their ploughs for bene-work. The men of Boxhole, Benham, Easton and Weston did the like. At Boxhole, out of twelve tenants, eight were bound, besides paying their rent, to plough an acre of the demesne and sow it with their own seed; and seven of these had moreover to carry hay and corn. One Berner and his sons held a “cotset-land” by a rent of six sextaries of honey to the cellarer and thirty-one pence to the chamberlain.[2258] There were twenty-six tenants withdrawn from demesne, of whom six owed work in August, in addition to their rent; and there were five acres of meadow which had to be mowed and carried by five men of the township. At Benham, out of twenty-four tenants, eleven were “cotsetles”; three of these were servants of the chamberlain, holding their lands by their service; the rest were to hold by rent or by work, as the lord might choose[2259]—an arrangement which applied also to the cotters of Boxhole.[2260] Of the remaining thirteen tenants at Benham, six paid rent only; the rest were bound also to plough and sow an acre or half an acre apiece, and to carry corn and hay.[2261] One was excused the ploughing and sowing, doubtless in consideration of her sex and condition—she was “Ernive a widow.”[2262] The whole township owed a customary payment or church-shot of forty-six hens.[2263]

On the manor of Weston the dues were thus distributed: Robert of Pont-de-l’Arche held four acres of the abbot “by the service of half a knight.” One acre belonged to the church of the township; half a hide was held by John of S. Helen’s, on what terms we are not told. Of the remainder, over which the chamberlain was lord, half a hide was in demesne; the rest was distributed in ten portions, held by thirteen tenants—a hide or half a hide being in three cases held by two persons conjointly. Two hides and a half were for work or for gavel, at the option of the lord; in actual practice, however, there were only two cotters who owed labour instead of, or in addition to, their money-rent. On the other hand, the right of poundage, or exemption from impounding of cattle, was paid for in this village by the ploughing of two acres.[2264] The township of Berton and several others were bound to furnish sumpter-horses for conveying fish to the abbey-kitchen thrice a year; the persons responsible for this service had to pay their own travelling expenses and those of their horses; but they got each a loaf from the abbey when they left; and those who could not fulfil the service were allowed to compound for it with the kitchener “as best they could.” The same manors rendered each five hundred eggs on the feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, at Christmas, Easter, Rogation-tide and Pentecost; and three hundred at Candlemas and Quinquagesima, besides eighteen hens apiece at the festivals of S. Martin and at Christmas. They also gave on the Wednesday before Easter a hundred herrings, which on the following Thursday were distributed to the poor;[2265] and each of them sent moreover to the monks’ kitchen, in the course of the year, besides the eggs and hens already enumerated, twenty-four bushels of beans.[2266] Eight fisheries were bound to furnish each a certain number of eels on Ash-Wednesday;[2267] the fishermen who carried the eels to the hall were entitled to receive thence two loaves apiece.[2268] From another fishery a money-rent of seventeen shillings was due, paid in three terms; and its holder owed church-shot of twelve hens.[2269] Berton furnished five loads of straw, and Culham as many of hay, three times a year—on Christmas Eve, Easter Eve, and All Saints’ Eve—for strewing the refectory.[2270] When the chamberlain went to Winchelcombe fair, the men of Dumbleton were bound to bring home for him whatever he purchased there; the same duty fell to the tenantry of Welford when he went to the fair at Winchester.[2271]

If we compare this Abingdon consuetudinary of 1185 with the Peterborough Black Book of 1128, the main result seems to be this: the Abingdon dues are quite as heavy, if not heavier, but the labour-services are much lighter. We must not indeed assume that the difference is wholly owing to progress made during the half-century which elapsed between the compilation of the two books; the customs of different localities varied in all ages, and those of Abingdon may never have been so hard as those of Peterborough. On the estates of the bishop of Durham, on the other hand, when Hugh of Puiset took account of his dues in 1183, the old labour-rents and customs seem to have subsisted almost without alteration. A large proportion of the villeins on the bishop’s manors were holders of two bovates or oxgangs of thirty acres each, for which each man paid two shillings and sixpence for scot-pennies, half a chalder of oats, sixteen pence for aver-pennies, five cart-loads of wood, two hens and ten eggs; he had to work for the lord three days every week throughout the year except Easter-week, Whitsun-week and the twelve days of Christmas; moreover, he and all his family, except the house-wife, had to do in autumn four days boon-work in reaping; besides this, he had to reap three roods of averipe (ripe oats), and plough and harrow three roods of averere (oat-stubble). Each villein plough had to plough and harrow two acres; on this occasion the villeins had a corrody from the bishop, and so they had on occasion of a great boon-work. They were to harrow whenever required; to perform services of carting, for which they got every man a loaf; to make each one booth for the fair of S. Cuthbert; “and when they make lodges” (possibly for the bishop’s hunting) “and cart wood, they are free of other work.” These were the services due from twenty-two out of the thirty-six tenants on the manor of Boldon. Of the remainder, twelve were “cotmen,” holding each twelve acres and working throughout the year, except at the above-named seasons, two days a week, and rendering twelve hens and sixty eggs. One man held two oxgangs of thirty-seven acres, at a rent of half a mark; another was the pounder, who held twelve acres, received from each plough one thrave of corn, and rendered twenty-four hens and five hundred eggs. The mill paid five marks and a half. The villeins were bound to give their labour every year, if required, for the building of a house (perhaps a hunting-lodge) forty feet long and fifteen feet wide; in that case they were forgiven fourpence for aver-pennies. The whole township rendered seventeen shillings for cornage, and one cow.[2272] Clevedon and Whitburn contained twenty-eight villeins and twelve cotmen whose services were the same as at Boldon; besides these and the pounder, there were four other tenants; one held two bovates of twenty-four acres at a rent of sixteenpence, and “went on the bishop’s errands”; one held sixty acres and a toft at eightpence, and fulfilled the same duty; the other two held their lands at a money-rent only.[2273] At Sedgefield there were fifty-one tenants, of whom twenty were villeins holding and labouring on the same terms as their brethren at Boldon; twenty more were “farmers,” holding two bovates apiece, paying five shillings, ploughing and harrowing half an acre, and finding two men to mow, two to reap, and two to make hay, for two days, and also one cart for two days to carry corn, and the same to cart hay; they also did four days’ boon-work in autumn with all their families except the housewives. The reeve, the smith and the carpenter held land by their service; the pounder got his thraves of corn and paid his dues in hens and eggs as on the other manors. Five bordarii held five tofts, paid five shillings, and did four days’ boon-work. William of Oldacres and Uhtred of Butterwick held lands, whose extent is not specified, at a rent of sixteen shillings and half a mark respectively.[2274] At Norton there were thirty villeins holding and labouring like those of Boldon, save that for lack of pasture-land they owed no cornage; and twenty farmers, whose tenure was much the same as that of the farmers of Sedgefield. Alan of Normanton held one carucate for ten shillings, and had to find thirty-two men for a day’s work when required, four carts for one day or two for two days for carrying corn, and the same for carting hay; besides which his men, if he had any, were to work four boon-days in autumn with all their families except the housewives, but Alan himself and his own household were free of this service. Adam, son of Gilbert of Hardwick, held a large piece of land by a money-rent. There was a mill, with eight acres and a meadow, and rendering twenty marks; a pounder, holding on the usual terms; and there were twelve cotmen, holding tofts and crofts, and paying partly in money, partly in work.[2275] The palatine bishopric, it is clear, was an old-fashioned district where innovations of any kind were slow to penetrate. Even here, however, the newer system of money-payment in commutation of service was beginning to make its appearance. The tenures on the manor of Whickham had undergone a sweeping change, apparently not long before Bishop Hugh’s survey was drawn up. On this manor there were thirty-five villeins, holding each an oxgang of fifteen acres. Each of these had been wont to pay sixteenpence, and to work three days a week throughout the year, three boon-days in autumn with all his family except his wife, and a fourth boon-day with two men; in their ordinary work they had to mow the grass, to cut and carry the hay, to reap and carry the corn; and over and above this, they had to plough and harrow two acres of averere with each plough; for this, however, they had a corrody. They had also, in the course of their work, to “make a house” forty feet long and fifteen feet wide, to make three fisheries in the Tyne, and to do carting and carrying like the villeins of Boldon; they gave nine shillings cornage, one cow, and for every oxgang one hen and ten eggs. “Now, however,” adds the record, “the said manor of Whickham is at farm”—demesne, villeins, mill, fisheries and all:—it may possibly, like its neighbour Ryton, have been let at farm to the tenants themselves; but at any rate, its entire services and dues, except a small tribute of hens and eggs, were commuted for a rent of six-and-twenty pounds.[2276]

On the whole, the glimpses which we get of the condition of the rural population of England under the Angevin kings seem to indicate that they were by no means excluded from a share in the progress of the kingdom at large. Even if their dues had grown heavier, this surely points to an advance in agricultural prosperity and of the material ease and comfort which are its natural results. The spread of industry shewed itself in many ways. In the towns we can trace it in the growing importance of the handicraftsmen, proved by the jealousy with which their gilds were regarded by the central government and still more by the civic authorities. The weavers seem to have been special objects of civic dislike; in most of the great towns they were treated as a sort of outcasts by the governing body; and in 1201 the London citizens bought of John, at the price of twenty silver marks a year and sixty marks down, a charter authorizing them to turn the weavers out of the city altogether. The sequel of this bargain is eminently characteristic of John; but it is equally significant of the growing influence of the craftsmen. The king took the citizens’ money and gave them the charter which they desired, but he made it null and void by granting his protection to the weavers as before, merely exacting from them an annual payment of twenty marks instead of eighteen.[2277]

Hand in hand with the growth of industry went the growth of trade. Markets and fairs were springing up everywhere, and a keen commercial rivalry sprang up with them. The little borough of S. Edmund’s set up a “merchant-gild,” whose members insisted that all who did not belong to it must pay toll in their market.[2278] The great success of Abingdon fair in Henry’s early years stirred up the jealousy of both Wallingford and Oxford, and their remonstrances compelled the king to order that inquisition should be made, through twenty-four of the old men of the shire “who were living in his grandfather’s time,” whether the obnoxious little township had in those days enjoyed the privilege of a market. The case was tried in full shire-moot at Farnborough; the twenty-four elders were duly elected, and swore that Abingdon had had a full market in the time of King Henry the First. The jurors were however challenged by the opposing party, whereupon Henry ordered “the men of Wallingford and the whole county of Berkshire” to meet before his justices at Oxford, and there to choose fresh recognitors. This time the jury could not agree among themselves. The Wallingford jurors swore that they remembered nothing sold at Abingdon in the first King Henry’s reign except bread and ale; the Oxford men admitted more than this, but not a “full market”—nothing brought by cart or boat (there was an old-standing quarrel between Oxford and Abingdon about boat-cargoes and river-tolls); the shiremen acknowledged that there had been a “full market,” but doubted whether goods were carried thither by any boats save those belonging to the abbot himself. The justiciar, Earl Robert of Leicester, who was presiding over the court in person, transmitted these various opinions to the king without venturing to decide the case. As it chanced, however, he could—so at least the Abingdon story ran—add to them an useful reminiscence of his own childhood: he had himself seen a full market at Abingdon not only in the days of King Henry I., but as far back as the days of King William, when he, Earl Robert, was a little boy in the abbey-school. And so the men of Abingdon won their case.[2279]

Disputes of this kind, however, were not always so peacefully settled. Some forty years later—in 1201—the monks of Ely set up, under the protection of a royal charter, a market at Lakenheath, within the “liberties” of S. Edmund’s abbey. The chapter of S. Edmund’s, “together with their friends and neighbours,” sent to Ely an amicable remonstrance against this proceeding, adding that they would willingly make good the fifteen marks which the monks of Ely had paid for their charter, if these latter would consent to forego the use of it. The remonstrance however produced no effect. The brotherhood of S. Edmund’s therefore demanded a recognition to declare whether the new market had been set up to their injury, and to the injury of the market at their own town. The verdict of the recognitors decided that it was so. The next step was to inform the king, and ascertain from him the exact tenour of his charter to Ely; search was made in the royal register, and it was found that the market had been granted only on condition that it should not damage the interests of other markets in the neighbourhood. Hereupon the king, for a promise of forty marks, gave to S. Edmund’s a charter providing that no market should thenceforth be set up within the liberties of the abbey save by the abbot’s consent; and he issued orders to the justiciar, Geoffrey Fitz-Peter, for the abolition of the market at Lakenheath. The justiciar sent on the order to the sheriff of Suffolk; and the sheriff, having no jurisdiction within the liberties of S. Edmund’s, forwarded it to the abbot for execution. Next market-day the hundred-reeve came to Lakenheath, and shewing the letters of king and sheriff, supported by the testimony of the freemen, forbade the market in the king’s name; he was however met with nothing but contempt and abuse. The abbot, who was in London at the time, after consulting with some “wise men” there, wrote to his bailiffs bidding them assemble all the men of S. Edmund’s with their horses and arms, overthrow the market by force, and take prisoners as many of the buyers and sellers as they could. In the middle of the night some six hundred well-armed men set out from S. Edmund’s for Lakenheath. When they reached it the market was deserted; all the stall-holders had fled. The prior of Ely was at Lakenheath with his bailiffs, having come that same night in expectation of the intended attack; but he “would not come out of his house”; so the bailiffs of S. Edmund’s, after vainly demanding pledges from him that he would “stand to right” in the abbey-court, seized the butchers’ trestles and the planks which formed the stalls, as well as the cart-horses, sheep and oxen, “yea, and all the beasts of the field,” and carried them away to Icklingham. The prior’s bailiffs hurried in pursuit, and begged to have their goods on pledge for fifteen days, which was granted. Within the fifteen days came a writ summoning the abbot to answer for this affair at the Exchequer, and to restore the captured animals. “For the bishop of Ely, who was a man of ready and eloquent speech, had complained in his own person to the justiciar and the great men of England, saying that an unheard-of insult had been done to S. Etheldreda in time of peace; wherefore many were greatly stirred up against the abbot.”[2280]

The developement of foreign commerce, resulting from the wide-spread relations of the Angevin kings with lands on both sides of the sea which encompassed their island-realm, woke a rivalry no less keen between some of the great trading cities, although they might shew it in less rough and ready fashion than the champions of the mercantile privileges of S. Edmund’s. One interesting illustration has recently come to light, in a writ of Henry II. to the bailiffs of Dublin in favour of the citizens of Chester. Henry, as we know, had granted to the men of Bristol the right of colonizing Dublin and holding it of him and his heirs with the same liberties and privileges as were enjoyed by Bristol itself. Bristol and Chester had for ages been rivals in the trade with Ireland; Chester now saw itself in imminent danger of being altogether shut out of that trade, an exclusion which would have meant little less than ruin to the city. We can hardly doubt that its citizens appealed to the king for a reservation of their commercial privileges in Dublin as against the Bristol merchants. At any rate, Henry in 1175 or 1176 issued a writ to the bailiffs of Dublin commanding that the burghers of Chester should be free to buy and sell at Dublin as they had been wont to do, and should have the same rights, liberties and free customs there as they had had in his grandfather’s days.[2281] Yet more important than the trade of the western seaports with Ireland was that of the eastern coast, not only with the continental dominions of the Angevin house, but with almost the whole of Europe. Not the least beneficial result of the Angevins’ renewal of the old political ties between England and the Empire was the increase of trade which it helped to bring from the merchant-cities of northern Germany and the Low Countries to the port of London. Nor were the kings themselves blind to the advantage of these commercial relations. Richard on the eve of his return from captivity in 1194 granted to the citizens of Cöln a gildhall in London, “with all their other customs and demands,” for an annual payment of two shillings.[2282] The hall of the other Teutonic merchants—famous in later days under the name of the Steel-yard—was probably established about the same period; and early in the following century we find an elaborate and interesting code of regulations for the trade of the Lorrainers, the “men of the Emperor of Germany,” the Danes and the Norwegians.[2283] The developement of commerce brought with it a corresponding growth of riches, and of the material comforts and refinements of life. Domestic architecture began to improve. Henry Fitz-Aylwine issued at the opening of his mayoralty an “Assize” which has been described as “the earliest English Building Act,” and which at any rate shews that the civic authorities were earnestly endeavouring to secure health and comfort in the houses within their jurisdiction, and also to guard against the risk of fire which had ruined so many citizens in times past.[2284] Ecclesiastical architecture progressed still more rapidly; church-building or rebuilding went on all over the country on a scale which proves how great was the advance, both in artistic taste and material wealth, which England had made under the just rule and peaceful administration of her first Angevin king. At the opening of John’s reign the citizens of London were contemplating an important architectural work of another kind: they were planning to replace the wooden bridge over the Thames with a bridge of stone. Degenerate representative as he was in more important respects of the “great builders” of Anjou, John had yet inherited a sufficient share of their tastes to feel interested in such an undertaking as this; and in April 1202 we find him writing to the mayor and citizens of London to recommend them an architect, Isenbert, master of the schools at Saintes, whose skill in the construction of bridges had been lately proved at Saintes and at La Rochelle.[2285] The citizens however seem not to have adopted the king’s suggestion; they found an architect among themselves, in the person of Peter, chaplain or curate of S. Mary Colechurch—the little church beneath whose shadow S. Thomas the martyr was born. It was Peter who “began the stone bridge at London”; and in a chapel on that bridge his body found its appropriate resting-place when he died in 1205.[2286]

There can be little doubt that a large part of the means for this developement of commercial and architectural energy was furnished by the Jews. The Jewish settlements increased rapidly both in numbers and in importance under Henry II. In the Pipe Rolls of his first five years we find, in addition to the London Jews who appeared in the thirty-first year of his grandfather, and those of Oxford and Lincoln of whom there are traces in the next reign, Jewries at Norwich, Cambridge, Thetford and Bungay, as well as at an unnamed place in Suffolk, which from other evidence seems to have been Bury S. Edmund’s;[2287] and we have already seen that before Henry’s death there were important Hebrew colonies at Lynn, Stamford, York, and many other places. At Winchester the Jews were so numerous and so prosperous that a writer in Richard’s early years calls it their Jerusalem.[2288] The great increase in their numbers throughout England during Henry’s reign is shewn by the fact that in 1177 he found it necessary to grant them permission for the making of a Jewish burial-ground outside the walls of every city in England, instead of sending all their dead to be buried in London, as had been the practice hitherto.[2289] Legally, the Jews were still simply chattels of the king. Practically, they were masters of the worldly interests of a large number of his Christian subjects, and of a large portion of the wealth of his realm. Without their loans many a great and successful trading venture could never have been risked, many a splendid church could never have been built, nay, many a costly undertaking of the king himself might have been brought to a standstill for lack of funds necessary to its completion. The abbey-church of S. Edmund was rebuilt with money borrowed in great part, at exorbitant interest, from Jewish capitalists. Abbot Hugh, when he died in 1173, left his convent in utter fiscal bondage to two wealthy Jews, Isaac son of Rabbi Joses, and Benedict of Norwich.[2290] The sacred vessels and jewels belonging to Lincoln minster were in the same year redeemed by Geoffrey, then bishop-elect, from Aaron, a rich Jew of the city who had had them in pledge for seven years or more.[2291] In 1187 Aaron died; his treasure was seized for the king, and a large part of it sent over sea. The ship which bore it went down between Shoreham and Dieppe, and the sum of the lost treasure was great enough for its loss to be chronicled as a grave misfortune by the treasurer, Bishop Richard Fitz-Nigel;[2292] while two years later the affairs of the dead Jew still made a prominent figure in the royal accounts.[2293] His house, as it stands at the head of the “Steep Hill” of Lincoln to this day, is one of the best examples of a mode of domestic architecture to which Christian townsfolk had scarcely yet begun to aspire, but which was already growing common among those of his race: a house built entirely of stone, in place of the wooden or rubble walls and thatched roofs which, even after Fitz-Aylwine’s Assize, still formed the majority of dwellings in the capital itself.

It is no wonder that these people, with their untold stores of wealth, their independence of all ordinary jurisdictions, their exemption from all the burthens of civil life, their voluntary exclusion from the common brotherhood of Christendom, their strange aspect and their mysterious language, were objects of universal jealousy, suspicion and hatred, which they on their part took but little pains to conciliate or allay. The religious feelings of the whole population of Oxford were outraged by a Jew who publicly mocked at S. Frideswide amid the solemnities of her festival-day, well knowing that neither prior nor bishop, chancellor nor portreeve, dared lift a finger to check or to punish him.[2294] Darker stories than this, however, were whispered against his race. They were charged not only with ruining many Englishmen of all classes by their usury, and with openly insulting the Christian sacraments and blaspheming the Christians’ Lord, but with buying Christians for money in order to crucify them.[2295] A boy, afterwards canonized as S. William, was said to have been thus martyred at Norwich in 1137;[2296] another, Robert, at S. Edmund’s in 1181;[2297] and a third at Winchester in 1192.[2298] Little as we may be inclined to believe such tales, we can scarcely wonder that they found credit at the time, and that the popular hatred of the Jews went on deepening till it broke out in the massacres of 1190. That outbreak compelled the king to interfere in behalf of his “chattels”; but the fines with which he punished it, though they deterred the people from any further attempts to get rid of the Jews by force, could not alter the general feeling. At S. Edmund’s Abbot Sampson, immediately after the massacre, sought and obtained a royal writ authorizing him to turn all the remaining Jews out of the town at once and for ever;[2299] and in 1194 Richard, or Hubert Walter in his name, found it needful to make an elaborate ordinance for the regulation of Jewish loans throughout the realm and the security of Jewish bonds. Such loans were to be made only in six or seven appointed places, before two “lawful Christians,” two “lawful Jews,” two “lawful writers,” and two clerks specially named in the ordinance; the deed was to be drawn up in the form of an indenture; one half, sealed with the borrower’s seal, was to be given to the Jewish lender; the other half was to be deposited in a common chest having three locks; the two Christians were to keep one key, the two Jews another, and the two royal clerks the third; and the chest was to be sealed with three seals, one being affixed by each of the parties who held the keys. The clerks were to have a roll containing copies of all such deeds; for every deed threepence were to be paid, half that sum by the Jew and half by his creditor; the two scribes got a penny each, and the keeper of the roll the third; and no transactions whatsoever in connexion with these Hebrew bonds was henceforth to take place save in accordance with these regulations.[2300]