It will be my object in this paper to recover and identify the fragments of a great national inquest, which seems to have escaped the notice of constitutional historians, and which, if its full returns had been preserved, might not unworthily be compared with the Domesday Inquest itself. In the course of doing so, I shall hope to prove that abstracts of these returns have been wrongly assigned by all antiquaries to an earlier and imaginary inquest, and that their belief has recently received an official confirmation. The solution I shall now propound will remove the admitted difficulties, to which the existing belief on the MSS. has, we shall find, given rise.

The bewildering congeries of returns known as the ‘Testa de Nevill’—an Edwardian manuscript shovelled together, and printed by the old Record Commission in 1807—has long been at once the hunting-ground and the despair of the topographer and the student of genealogy. Now that the returns contained in the Red Book of the Exchequer are also at length in type,[531] it is possible to collate the two collections, and thus to remove, in part at least, the obscurity that has hitherto surrounded them.

Mr. Hall, in his preface to the ‘Red Book,’ writes thus:

In the ‘Red Book’ itself the returns are headed:

They are accordingly given, by the editor, the marginal date “1210–1212” throughout (pp. 469–574). On the other hand, the ‘Testa de Nevill’ returns were, as he shows, delivered at the Exchequer on the morrow of St. John the Baptist (25th June), 1212 (p. ccxxi.). Thus then we have, according to him, two successive and “independent returns”:

It is necessary to keep these dates very clearly in mind, because, although the editor accepts the ‘Red Book’ statement, and adopts accordingly the marginal date “1210–1212,” he yet, by an incomprehensible confusion, speaks of the same as the Inquisition of “1210–1211” on p. ccxxviii. (bis), and even as “the earlier Inquisition of 1210 entered in the Red Book” (p. ccxxvi.), and of “the two independent returns of 1210 and 1212” with “two stormy years” between them (p. ccxxiv.); while in another place he actually dates the said “returns of 1210” as belonging to “1212” (p. clxv.). He thus dates the Red Book Inquisitions in one place ‘1210–1212,’ in another ‘1210–1211,’ in a third ‘1210,’ and in a fourth ‘1212.’

Now I may explain at the outset that what I propose to do is to show that instead of two Inquests (one recorded in the ‘Red Book’ and the other in the ‘Testa’), there was only a single Inquest, with one series of returns, and that this was the Inquest of June, 1212.

As this view is in direct conflict with the heading in the ‘Red Book’ itself, we must first glance at Mr. Hall’s statement that “the date of the Inquisitions entered in the Red Book can be proved from internal evidence” (p. ccxxiii.). What he there claims to prove is that their date is between 1209 and “the early part of 1213.” Such a conclusion, it will be perceived, in no way proves that they do not belong, as I shall contend they do belong, to June, 1212. Putting aside the obvious and inherent improbability of an Inquest being made in 1212 on the very matter which had formed the subject of an Inquest only just concluded, we need only compare the returns to prove their common origin. Mr. Hall observes that at times

But the obvious inference that the two Inquests were really one and the same seems not to have occurred to him. We will glance, therefore, at the parallel returns he has himself selected. Foremost among these is “the Middlesex Inquisition” for 1212, of which he has printed “the original return” as an appendix to his Preface (pp. ccxxvi., cclxxxii.-iv.), for comparison with the texts in the ‘Red Book’ and in the ‘Testa de Nevill.’ But he warns us

The “original” return and the two texts all begin with the “Honour” of William de Windsor, who inherited from his Domesday ancestor, Walter fitz Other, a compact block of four manors, East and West Bedfont, Stanwell, and Hatton, in the south-west of the county. The first entry is for East Bedfont, and the second ran, in the “original” return: “Walterius Bedestfont, Andreas Bucherel, feudum unius militis.” But Walterius, Mr. Hall tells us, was altered in a contemporary hand to “in alterius.” The ‘Testa’ renders this as “in villa alterius,” while the ‘Red Book’ gives us “Walterius de Bedefonte, Andreas Bukerellus j feodum.” There can be no question that the ‘Testa de Nevill’ is right, and that Andrew Bucherel was the sole tenant of the fee, for the scutage is accounted for accordingly on the same page (p. 361). It follows, therefore, that the ‘Red Book’ and the “original” return have both evolved, in error, a Walter de Bedfont from “in alteri” Bedfont. Hence I conclude that the strip of parchment termed by Mr. Hall “the original return,” was not the original return, and that the error common to the ‘Red Book’ and itself demonstrates a close connection between the two.

But if this document was not the original return, what was? To answer this question, we must turn to Worcestershire, one of the counties cited by Mr. Hall for the parallel character of the returns. How significantly close is the parallel these entries will show:

It will be obvious, from the verbal concordances, that instead of representing, as Mr. Hall holds, two “independent” returns made in different years these texts are derived from one and the same return. But instead of being, as in the case of Middlesex, arranged in the same order, they are here found, in the respective texts, arranged in very different order. The explanation of this is that the ‘Testa’ records the Inquest by Hundreds, while the ‘Red Book’ groups the fees under the barons’ names and the sergeanties apart at the end. This is particularly interesting from the parallel of Domesday Book, where the Inquest, of which the original returns were drawn up hundred by hundred, was rearranged in Domesday Book in similar fashion. I was led to suspect that this great Inquest was, generally at least, drawn up by Hundreds, from Mr. Hall’s remark that

The view I advance at once explains and is confirmed by the remarkable allusion to this Inquest in the ‘Annals of Waverley’:

There can, in my opinion, be no question whatever that this refers to the writ ordering the great Inquest of service in 1212. This is printed in the ‘Testa’ (p. 54), and as an appendix to the ‘Red Book’ (p. cclxxxv.). It is too lengthy to be quoted entire, but in it are found these words:

The only difference is that the writ leaves the method of inquest to the sheriff’s discretion (“sicut melius inquiri poterit”) while the chronicler says it was to be made Hundred by Hundred, which, as we have seen, was probably the method adopted.

In the ‘Testa’ the writ is not dated, but the copy printed by Mr. Hall is dated June 1 (1212) at Westminster. This seems but short notice for a return due on June 25, but it is remarkable that the ‘Annals of Waverley’ mention it in conjunction with a writ dated June 7, which certainly favours the statement. This latter writ directs an enquiry as to the ecclesiastical benefices held under gift of the prelates lately exiled from the realm.[534] It is remarkable that the Worcester returns to the great Inquest of service in 1212 are followed by a return made to such an enquiry:

Bishop Mauger died in the very month of the Inquest (June, 1212). The Notts and Derbyshire returns (p. 18) include two similar entries relating to the archbishop of York, and those for Somerset and Dorset contain two at least relating to the bishop of Bath (pp. 161 b, 162 a). The Sussex and Surrey returns similarly contain two entries (p. 226 a) relating to Surrey churches to which the archbishop of Canterbury had presented. In this last case the annual value of the livings is deposed to, it should be noted, by six men of each parish.[535]

Having now dealt with Middlesex and Worcestershire, I pass to Lancashire, another county cited by Mr. Hall for comparison. The magnificent return for this county in 1212[536] is noteworthy for several reasons. In the first place, it is headed:

This is a good illustration of the principle of “sworn inquest.” In the second, it leads off with the entry: “Gilbertus filius Reinfri tenet feodum unius militis.” Although this was a well-known man, jure uxoris a local magnate, the ‘Red Book’ text leads off with the gross corruption: “Gilfridus filius Rumfrai i militem” (568). Mr. Hall, in his index (p. 1183), identifies him with the “Galfridus filius Reinfrei” of another ‘Red Book’ return (p. 599)—where the ‘Testa’ has, rightly, “Gilbertus”—and fails to recognise in him the above Gilbert. This is a striking comment on his views expressed at the outset as to the inferiority of the ‘Testa’ text. So also is the fact that the ‘Red Book’ reads “Thomas de Elgburgo” at the foot of the same page, where the ‘Testa’ has “Thomas de Goldebur[go]” (p. 406), the correctness of the latter reading being proved by the “Thomas de Goldeburgo” of the ‘Red Book’ itself (p. 69) in its extract from the Pipe Roll of 1187. Yet the editor ignores the ‘Testa’ form, and gives ‘Elgburgo’ in the Index.[537]

A third point is that the ‘Red Book’ compresses here into a skeleton nearly thirteen columns of the closely printed ‘Testa de Nevill.’ The text of the latter is of value not only for its wealth of information and its witness to the detailed and far-reaching character of this Inquest, but for such expressions as “pro herede Theobaldi Walteri qui est in custodia sua” (i.e. regis). Theobald had died more than five years before the Inquest was made; and yet in the ‘Red Book’ text he appears as the living tenant.

This instance is of some importance in its bearing on apparent contrasts in the ‘Testa’ and ‘Red Book’ versions. For Mr. Hall, believing them to represent two successive returns, observes that

The apparent discrepancy of the two returns is explained, exactly as in the case of Theobald Walter, by the fact that the full return mentioned Walter Tosard as dead, while the brief and inaccurate abstract of it, in the Red Book of the Exchequer, gives his name as if he were alive.

Passing over the elaborate entry for Bradwell, Essex,[538] the two versions of which, it will be found, are clearly derived from the same original, I pass, in conclusion, to the return for Northumberland (‘Testa,’ 392–3). Although not among the counties cited above by Mr. Hall, its return to the “Inquisicio facta de tenementis, etc., que sunt data vel alienata,” etc.,[539] is specially full and valuable for comparison. Its text appears to reproduce the original in extenso. Now any one comparing this return with the meagre list in the ‘Liber Rubeus’ (pp. 562–4) will perceive at once that the latter is derived from the same original. The names occur in identical order. The only discrepancy is that the ‘Red Book’ shows us “Sewale filius Henrici” in possession of land (Matfen and Nafferton)—held by the interesting serjeanty of being coroner—while the ‘Testa’ reads “Philippus de Ulkotes tenet terram que fuit Sewall’ filii Henrici.” It might be urged, as is done by Mr. Hall in the case of the serjeanties and the Boulogne Inquest (pp. ccxxviii., 575), that this proves the ‘Testa’ return to be the later of the two. But here, again, the real explanation is that—as in the case of Lancashire, where Theobald Walter’s name, we saw, is given in the ‘Red Book’ when he was dead—the appearance of Sewal is merely due to the carelessness, in the ‘Red Book,’ of the scribe. This, indeed, is evident from his similar appearance in a list which is, according to Mr. Hall, later than either.[540] How essential it is to collate these parallel lists is shown by the very first entry, relating to the interesting tenure of earl Patrick (of Dunbar). According to the ‘Testa’ (the right reading) he held “iij villas in theynagio.” The ‘Red Book’ makes him hold “iii milites (!) in theynagio,” a reading which its editor accepts without question. Another no less striking correction is afforded by the ‘Testa,’ in its entry relating to the porter of Bamborough Castle and his tenure: “Robertus Janitor de Bamburg’ tenet.” In Mr. Hall’s text we find him as “Robertus, junior” (!), and, as such, the unfortunate man is indexed, although he appears elsewhere, both in the ‘Red Book’ and the ‘Testa,’ as “Robertus Portarius.”[541] From these instances it will be evident that though (in the printed text at least) the ‘Testa’ is not perfect, the ‘Red Book’ list, for Northumberland, is, when compared with it, worthless.

Indeed, the marvellously elaborate returns for Somerset and Dorset, Lincolnshire, Lancashire, etc., printed in the ‘Testa de Nevill,’ with which the meagre lists in the ‘Liber Rubeus’ cannot be compared for an instant, make one read with absolute amazement Mr. Hall’s statement, when comparing the two, that

It is evident that the editor has no conception how many and how long are the returns in the ‘Testa’ relating to this great Inquest.[542] This may be due to his conception that they are there headed “De Testa de Nevill” (p. ccxxv.), an idea which he repeated in a lengthy communication to the ‘Athenæum’ (10th Sept., 1898) on the “Testa de Nevill.” Mr. Hall wrote:

The very point of the matter is that, on the contrary, the greater portion of these lists have no such heading, but are hidden away among later returns, from which they can only be disentangled by careful and patient labour.[543] The result of my researches is that I believe the printed ‘Testa’ to contain no fewer than a hundred columns (amounting to nearly an eighth of its contents) representing returns to this Inquest. At the close of this paper I append a list of these columns, of which only thirty-eight are headed (or included in the portion headed) “De testa de Nevill.”

To resume. For the great Inquest of 1212 (14 John) we have (1) mention in a chronicle, (2) the writ directing it to be made, (3) the record of a sworn verdict of jurors who made it. For the alleged Inquests of 1210–12 (12 and 13 John) we have nothing at all.[544] We have, further, the fact that, when collated, the returns said to belong to these “independent” Inquests are found to be clearly derived from a single original. In spite, therefore, of the ‘Red Book’ and its editor, it may safely be asserted that there was but one Inquest, that of the 14th year, the returns to which were handed in on 25th June (1212).

Thus “the remarkable circumstance,” as Mr. Hall terms it (p. ccxxiii.), that the ‘Testa’ compilers know nothing of “the original returns of the 12th and 13th years,” while, “on the other hand, the scribe of the ‘Red Book’ had not access to the returns of the 14th year,” is at once accounted for: they both used the same returns, those of 1212.[545]

As my criticism has, at times, been deemed merely destructive, I may point out that, here at least, it has established the facts about an Inquest worthy to be named, in future, by historians in conjunction with those of 1086 and 1166, while the rough list I shall append of its returns, as printed in the ‘Testa,’ will, one may hope, enable its evidence to be more generally used than it has been hitherto. The unfortunate description of the ‘Testa,’ on its title-page, as “temp. Henry III. and Edward I.,” has greatly obscured its character and misled the ordinary searcher.

Historically speaking, this Inquest may be viewed from two standpoints. Politically, it illustrates John’s exactions by its effort to revive rights of the Crown alleged to have lapsed.[546] Institutionally, it is of great interest, not only as an instance of “the sworn inquest” employed on a vast scale, but also for its contrast to the inquest of knights in 1166, and its points of resemblance to the Domesday inquest of 1086. Of far wider compass than the former—for it dealt in detail with the towns[547]—it was carried out on a totally different principle. Instead of each tenant-in-chief making his own return of his fees and sending it in separately, the sheriff conducted the enquiry, Hundred by Hundred, for the county; and out of these returns the feudal lists had to be subsequently constructed by the officials. Lincolnshire is not among the counties named by Mr. Hall for comparison, but it shows us well how the inquest was made Wapentake by Wapentake, and then the list of fees within the county extracted from the returns and grouped under Honours. This, I believe, is what was done in Middlesex also.[548] It is noteworthy that in the case of Middlesex the returns of 1212 were made the basis for collecting the aid “for the marriage of the king’s sister,”[549] in 1235, the same personal names occurring in both lists. If, as this implies, they formed a definitive assessment, we obtain a striking explanation of the fact that 1212, as Mr. Hall observes, seems to mark a terminal break in Swereford’s work (pp. lxii.-iii.). Personally, however, I am not sure that “the Scutages,” as Mr. Hall asserts, “concluded abruptly” in 1212. My reckoning being different from his, I make the last scutage dealt with by Swereford to be that which is recorded on John’s 13th year roll, that is, the roll of Michaelmas, 1211.

The following list represents an attempt to identify the returns to this great Inquest in the ‘Testa,’ and to give the relative abstracts in the ‘Liber Rubeus.’ Out of 39 English counties (then recognised), the ‘Testa’ seems to have returns or fragments for 25, and the ‘Liber Rubeus’ abstracts for 31.

The above list can only be tentative, and does not profess to be exhaustive. It is believed, however, that genealogists and topographers will find it of considerable assistance.