The History of English Law before the Time of Edward I. Frederic William Maitland

little to show between the last of the capitularies and those feudal law-books which stand on a level with our own Glanvill. While the complex process which we call feudalism is transmuting the world, no one issues laws or writes about law. If in England it is otherwise, this seems to be chiefly due to two causes:—In England the age of the capitularies had not ended; but lately Cnut had legislated on a scale which for the eleventh century must be called magnificent. And then that very collision between two races which makes the law-books disorderly and obscure has made them necessary. The laga Eadwardi is confirmed. Even clerks of Norman race wish to know what the laga Eadwardi is.

Practical problems in the Leges.These law-books have, we may say, one main theme. It is a very old theme. An offence, probably some violent offence, has been committed. Who then is to get money, and how much money, out of the offender? It is the old theme of wer and wíte and bót. But the criminal tariff has become exceedingly complex, and is breaking down under its own weight. In the first place the old tribal differences, which have become local differences, cannot yet be disregarded. A text writer must still start with this, that England is divided between three laws, Wessex law, Mercian law, Danelaw. We must not make light of the few variances between these three laws which are expressly noticed by the books. If in the eleventh century a middle finger is more valuable than a first finger among the men of the Danelaw and less valuable among the men of Wessex, here is a difference which would have its equivalent in modern England if the law of Lancashire differed from the law of Yorkshire about the negotiable qualities of a bill of exchange, a difference fruitful of knotty problems. The law of Herefordshire, as settled by Earl William FitzOsbern, was that no knight should have to pay more than seven shillings for any offence.⁷⁴ Becket asserted even in the king’s court that the heaviest amercement known to Kentish law was [p.84] forty shillings.⁷⁵ But the country was becoming covered with small courts; every one who could was acquiring or assuming sake and soke. The courts rose one above the other; the great old tribal customs were breaking up into multitudinous petty customs. This introduced new complexities. We can see that for the writer of the Leges Henrici the grand central problem of the law is the question, Who in the myriad of possible cases has sake and soke, the right to hold a court for the offender and to pocket the profits of jurisdiction? The claims of the lords, the claims of the church, the claims of the king are adding to the number of the various fines and mulcts that can be exacted, and are often at variance with each other. Let us suppose that a man learned in the law is asked to advise upon a case of homicide. Godwin and Roger met and quarrelled, and Godwin slew Roger. What must be paid; by whom; to whom? Our jurist is not very careful about those psychical elements of the case which might interest us, but on the other hand he requires information about a vast number of particulars which would seem to us trivial. He cannot begin to cast up his sum until he has before him some such statement as this:—Godwin was a free ceorl of the Abbot of Ely: Roger, the son of a Norman father, was born in En gland of an English mother and was a vavassor of Count Alan: the deed was done on the Monday after Septuagesima, in the county of Cambridge, on a road which ran between the land which Gerard a Norman knight held of Count Eustace and the land of the Bishop of Lincoln: this road was not one of the king’s highways: Godwin was pursued by the neighbours into the county of Huntingdon and arrested on the land of the Abbot of Ramsey: Roger, when the encounter took place, was on his way to the hundred moot: he has left a widow, a paternal uncle and a maternal aunt. As a matter of fact, the result will probably be that Godwin, unable to satisfy the various claims to which his deed has given rise, will be hanged or mutilated. This, however, is but a slovenly, practical solution of the nice problem, and even if he be hanged, there may be a severe struggle over such poor chattels as he had. The old law consisted very largely of rules about these matters; but it is falling to pieces under the pressure of those new elements which feudalism has brought with it. For a while there must be chaos and “unlaw”; every [p.85] lord may assume what jurisdictional powers he pleases and will be able to find in the complicated tangle of rules some plausible excuse for the assumption. The Normans, hallowed and lay, have thrown themselves with all their native ardour into the warfare of litigation and chicane over rights which have Old English names; “nullus clericus nisi causidicus.”⁷⁶

Custom of the king’s court.Only to one quarter can we look hopefully. Above all local customs rose the custom of the king’s court, “the tremendous empire of kingly majesty.”⁷⁷ Of the law that this court administered we know little, only we may guess that in a certain sense it was equity rather than strict law. On the one hand, the royal tribunal cannot have held itself straitly bound by the Old English law; the men who sat in it were Frenchmen, few of whom could understand a word of English. On the other hand, it must often have happened that the traditional Norman customs would not meet the facts, for a Norman count and a Norman bishop would be quarrelling over the titles of their English antecessores, and producing English land-books. Besides, the king did not mean that England should be another Normandy; he meant to have at least all the rights that his cousin and predecessor had enjoyed. The jurisprudence of his court, if we may use so grand a phrase, was of necessity a flexible, occasional jurisprudence, dealing with an unprecedented state of affairs, meeting new facts by new expedients, wavering as wavered the balance of power between him and his barons, capable of receiving impressions from without, influenced by the growth of canon law, influenced perhaps by Lombard learning, modern in the midst of antique surroundings. In retrospect it would appear to a statesman of Henry II.’s day as something so unlike the laga Eadwardi, that it must be pronounced distinctively un-English and therefore distinctively [p.86] Norman, and Norman in a sense it was.⁷⁸ It was not a jurisprudence that had been transplanted from Normandy; but it had been developed by a court composed of Frenchmen to meet cases in which Frenchmen were concerned; the language in which men spoke it was French; and in the end, so far as it dealt with merely private rights, it would closely resemble a French coutume.

Royal justice.The future was to make the jurisprudence of the king’s court by far the most important element in the law of England, but we can hardly say that it was this during the reigns of the Norman kings. In the main that court was a court only for the great men and the great causes. It is true that these foreign kings did not allow their justiciary powers to be limited by any of those hedges which might have grown up in an unconquered country and confined the scope of royal justice to certain particular fields. The list of the “pleas of the crown” was long, disorderly, elastic;⁷⁹ the king could send a trusted baron or prelate to preside in the county courts; he could evoke causes into his own court.⁸⁰ But evocatory writs must be paid for and they were not to be had as matters of course. The local courts, communal and seignorial, were the ordinary tribunals for ordinary causes; the king’s justice was still extraordinary, and even the pleas of the crown were for the more part heard by the sheriffs in the shire-moots.⁸¹ Then, again, the king’s court was not in permanent session. Under the two Williams the name curia Regis seems to be borne only by those great assemblages that collect round the king thrice a year when he wears his crown. It was in such assemblages that the king’s justice was done under his own [p.87] eye, and no doubt he had his way; still it was not for him to make the judgments of his court.⁸² Under Henry I. something that is more like a permanent tribunal, a group of justiciars presided over by a chief justiciar, becomes apparent. Twice a year this group, taking the name of “the exchequer,” sat round the chequered table, received the royal revenue, audited the sheriffs’ accounts and did incidental justice. From time to time some of its members would be sent through the counties to hear the pleas of the crown, and litigants who were great men began to find it worth their while to bring their cases before this powerful tribunal. We cannot say that these justiciars were professionally learned in English law; but the king chose for the work trusty barons and able clerks, and some of these clerks, besides having long experience as financiers and administrators, must have had a tincture of the new canonical jurisprudence.⁸³ But, for all this, when Henry died little had yet been done towards centreing the whole work of justice in one small body of learned men. And then a disputed succession