Part 6

It is distinctly asserted, in the above passage, that the ‘firma comitatus’ only dated from this reform under Henry I.[156] This is at variance with the strong evidence set forth in my ‘Geoffrey de Mandeville,’ that Geoffrey’s grandfather, who was dead before this alleged reform, held Middlesex, Essex, and Herts at farm, the very amount of the farm due from him being mentioned. But, indeed, in Domesday itself there are hints, if not actual evidence, that the ‘firma’ was more or less in existence. In Warwickshire, for instance, “T.R.E. vicecomitatus de Warwic cum burgo et cum regalibus Maneriis reddebat lxv libras,” etc., etc. In Worcestershire, also, “vicecomes ... de Dominicis Maneriis regis reddit cxxiii lib. et iiii sol. ad pensum.” Here we have exactly that “summa summarum” of which the ‘Dialogus’ speaks as a novelty introduced under Henry I.[157] Again, in at least one passage (i. 85), we recognise a distinct allusion to the “terræ datæ” system:

De hoc Manerio tenet Giso episcopus unum membrum WETMORE quod ipse tenuit de rege E. Pro eo computat Willelmus vicecomes in firma regis xii lib. unoquoque anno.

Now we know the history of this manor, which had been detached from the royal demesne about a quarter of a century before, when Edward gave it to bishop Giso on his return from his visit to Rome. It follows, therefore, that £12 must have been, ever since, annually credited to the sheriff, in consideration of the Crown having alienated this manor.[158] We thus carry back to a period before the Conquest that Exchequer practice of the 12th century, which is thus alluded to in Stephen’s charter to Geoffrey earl of Essex (1141):

Ita tamen quod dominica quæ de prædictis comitatibus data sunt ... a firma prædicta subtrahantur et ... ad scaccarium computabuntur.[159]

I hasten to add that the Charter of Constance, the Conqueror’s daughter, quoted by Stapleton from the Cartulary of Holy Trinity, Caen, affords an exact parallel in the words: “et ei computabitur in suo redditu cum dica.” But the fact remains that we can prove the existence, under Edward the Confessor, of characteristic features of the later Exchequer system, of which one, at least, as Stapleton explained, must have been of English origin.

What then was the change that took place on the introduction of the Exchequer? How did it modify the system previously in existence? Our only clue is found in the well-known words of the ‘Dialogus’: “Quod autem hodie dicitur ad scaccarium, olim dicebatur ad taleas.” Writing as a specialist on Exchequer history, Mr. Hall contends that “this expression in itself denotes the actual place of receipt and issue of the revenue rather than a court or council chamber.”[160] But one cannot see that ‘scaccarium’ in itself denotes a court or council chamber more than does ‘talea.’ The one was a chequered table, the other a wooden tally. My own view is that the change really consisted of the introduction of the chequered table[161] to assist the balancing of the accounts. Previously, tallies alone would be used, and it is noteworthy that even after the ‘Exchequer’ system was in full operation, the deduction for the loss involved by ‘combustion’ was still effected by tally.[162] I have little doubt that the ‘combustion’ tally was in use in the 11th century for payments “ad arsuram et pensum.”

Instead, then, of the sheriffs’ accounts being balanced by the cumbrous system of tallies, the introduction of the Exchequer table, very possibly under Henry I., enabled them to be depicted to the eye by an ingenious system of counters. To the modern mind it is strange, of course, that, while the reformers were about it, they did not substitute parchment, and work out the accounts on it. But, doubtless for the benefit of unlearned sheriffs, the old system of ocular demonstration was still adhered to, and the Treasurer’s Roll merely recorded the results of the ‘game’ by which the accounts had been worked out upon the table.

Mr. Hall’s belief is best set forth in an article he contributed to the ‘Athenæum’ (November 27, 1886), and of which he reprinted this passage, subsequently, in ‘Domesday Studies’ (1891):

There is every reason for believing that the audit machinery of the ancient Treasury at Winchester was sufficient for the purpose.... It is true, indeed, that the earliest germ of the Exchequer is perceptible in these accounts, which were, however, audited not ‘ad scaccarium,’ but ‘ad taleas,’ _i.e._ in the Treasury or Receipt at Winchester.... We find in the Pipe Rolls the old Treasury at Winchester used as a permanent storehouse for the reserve of treasure, regalia, and records, and we even find Exchequer business transacted there by way of audit of accounts, which formed a special office or ‘ministerium’ as late as 1130 (Pipe Roll 31 Hen. I).[163]

The purchase of the ‘ministerium thesauri Wintoniæ,’ recorded in the Pipe Roll of 1130,[164] does not affect the question of audit. There can be no question that the national Treasury, in 1130, was at Winchester, or that the Treasurer’s official residence was there also.[165] The really important passages on the roll, passages which I venture to think have been generally misunderstood, are these:

Et in præterito anno quando comes Gloecestriæ et Brientius filius Comitis audierunt compotum de thesauro apud Wintoniam.

De istis habuit Willelmus de Pontearc’ xxx li., de quibus reddidit compotum quando comes Gloecestriæ et Brientius audierunt compotum de thesauro apud Wintoniam.

It has been assumed that these entries refer to the Exchequer business of balancing the sheriffs’ accounts, and Madox even went so far as to draw the conclusion, from their wording, that, at the time of the Roll, Brian Fitz Count was Treasurer. The true meaning was exactly contrary, and an interesting allusion is thus obscured.

For the Pipe Rolls do not, as is sometimes imagined, display the national accounts. They probably do not exhaust the receipts (for some, it is believed, were paid ‘in camera’), and they certainly only record a portion of the royal expenditure. What became of the money which is so continually entered as paid ‘in Thesauro’? It found its way into the national treasury, whence it was paid out as was required by writ of ‘Liberate’ addressed to the Treasurer and chamberlains.[166] Of these outgoings, in the 12th century, there is, it would seem, no record; but they were certainly audited from time to time, the king calling on the Treasurer to account for the money in his charge, as, at the Exchequer, the Treasurer himself had called on the sheriffs to account for the sums for which they were liable. To this ‘generalis compotus,’ associated with the Winchester Treasury, there are, in the ‘Dialogus,’ several allusions which may have been somewhat overlooked.

Quod thesaurarius a vicecomite compotum suscipiat, hinc manifestum est, quod _idem ab eo cum regi placuerit requiritur_.... Sunt tamen qui dicunt thesaurarium et camerarios obnoxios tantum hiis quæ scribuntur in rotulis ‘in thesauro,’ ut _de hiis compotus ab eis exigatur_ (i. 1).

Raro inquam, hoc est, _cum a rege, vel mandato regis, a magnis regni[167] compotus a thesaurario et camerariis regni totius recepta suscipitur_ (i. 5).

Thesaurarius et camerarii, nisi regis expresso mandato vel præsidentis justiciarii, susceptam pecuniam non expendunt: oportet enim ut habeant auctoritatem rescripti regis de distributa pecunia, _cum ab eis compotus generalis exigitur_ (i. 6).

[De combustione] ... ut de summa ejus _thesaurarius et camerarii respondeant_ (ib.).

These are sufficient allusions to the Treasury, as distinct from the Exchequer, account. I invite particular attention to this Treasury audit, because, so far as I can find, it has hitherto escaped notice. The second extract refers to the use of the £10,000 space on the chequered table, and therefore proves the use of such a table for the Treasury account as well.

Now my point is that the earl of Gloucester and Brian ‘Fitz Count,’ in 1130, were magnates (_magni regni_) delegated by the king, as described in the second passage,[168] to audit the Treasurer’s account. And this view is confirmed by the fact that William de Pont de l’Arche, who here accounts to them, is styled by Dr. Stubbs “the Treasurer,” and is, in any case, subsequently described as “custos thesaurorum regalium.” Their mission had nothing, I hold, to do with that audit of the sheriffs’ accounts, which was the annual function of the Exchequer.

There is a remarkable entry on the roll of 1187 which alludes to an overhauling of the national treasure at Winchester, at the beginning of that year, the date proving that it was wholly unconnected with either session of the Exchequer:

Et in custamento numerandi et ponderandi thesaurum apud Wintoniam post Natale, et pro forulis novis ad reponendum eundem thesaurum et pro aliis minutis negociis ad predictum opus, etc.... Et pro carriando thesauro a Wintoniâ ad Saresburiam et ad Oxinford’ et ad Geldeford’ et ad plura loca per Angliam £4 8_s._ 3_d._

One might compare with these phrases the ‘Dialogus’ language as to the knights, ‘qui et camerarii dicuntur, quod pro camerariis ministrant.’

Item officium horum est numeratam pecuniam, et in vasis ligneis per centenos solidos compositam, ponderare, ne sit error in numero, tunc demum in forulos mittere, etc. (i. 3).

Also the description of the usher’s office:

Hic ministrat forulos ad pecuniam reponendam, etc. (ib.).

But the latter part of the entry (which is duly quoted by Eyton[169]) is also of much importance. For in Mr. Hall’s work, under 1187, we only read, ‘Treasure conveyed abroad from Winchester.’[170]

It is an essential part of Mr. Hall’s theory, which makes the “Westminster Treasury ... the principal Treasury of the kingdom,”[171] that the Winchester Treasury was merely “an emporium in connection with the transport of bullion (and especially of the regalia and plate), as well as other supplies, _viâ_ Southampton, or other seaports, to the Continent.”[172] But the above passage shows us, on the contrary, treasure sent thence to Salisbury, Oxford, and Guildford. It is manifest that treasure, despatched from Westminster to Oxford or Guildford would not be sent _viâ_ Winchester. From this it follows that Winchester was still a central Treasury, and not a mere ‘emporium’ _en route_ to the south. It is certain that under Henry I., some sixty years before, the session at Westminster of the Barons of the Exchequer did not, as Stapleton observed, affect the position of the national Treasury at Winchester. It is, then, equally certain that the money received at that session must have been duly transmitted to the Winchester Treasury. For that was where the treasure (in coined money) was kept when Stephen succeeded at the close of 1135.

The whole difficulty has arisen from Mr. Hall’s inability to distinguish between the ‘Receipt’ at Westminster, where the money was paid in, and the national Treasury at Winchester in which it was permanently stored. This is, roughly speaking, like confusing a man’s investments with his balance at his bankers. The steadily growing importance of Westminster and the concurrent decadence of Winchester led, of course, eventually, to the shifting of the central Treasury, but at the time of the ‘Dialogus,’ in the days of Henry II., it is clear that the Exchequer was not looked on as the seat of a permanent Treasury. For the storage of treasure is always implied by the payment for the light of the night watchman; and as to the watchman and his light, the evidence of the ‘Dialogue’ is clear:

Vigilis officium idem est ibi quod alibi; diligentissima scilicet de nocte custodia, thesauri principaliter, et omnium eorum quæ in domo thesauri reponuntur.... Sunt et hiis liberationes constitutæ _dum scaccarium est, hoc est a die qua convocantur usque ad diem qua generalis secessio_.... Vigil unum denarium. Ad lumen cujusque noctis circa thesaurum, obolum (i. 3).

There is absolutely no escaping from these words: a watchman is only provided for the treasure “while the Exchequer is in session”; its treasury is temporary, not permanent. The whole passage, as it seems to me, is absolutely destructive of Mr. Hall’s hypothesis of “the existence of a permanent financial staff under the Treasurer and chamberlains of the Exchequer at Westminster.”[173]

The change from the “Treasury” to the “Exchequer” was, I hold, a gradual process. Careful study of the annual revenues bestowed by our sovereigns on the foreign houses of Tiron, Fontevrault, and Cluny[174] proves clearly how insensibly the “Treasury at Winchester” was superseded by the “Exchequer at London” as the place of payment. This is especially the case with Tiron, where Henry I.’s original grant, made about the middle of his reign, provides for payment “de thesauro meo, in festo Sancti Michaelis, _Wintonie_.”[175] Under Richard I. this becomes payable “at Michaelmas from his exchequer at London.”[176] Documents between the two show us intermediate stages.

Precisely the same gradual process is seen in the parallel development of the chamberlainship of the “Exchequer” from that of the “Treasury.” Just as Henry II., shortly before his accession, confirmed the grant to Tiron as “de thesauro Wintonie,”[177] so he restored to William Mauduit, at about the same time, “camerariam meam _thesauri_,” which office was held by his descendants as a chamberlainship of the _Exchequer_.

The ‘Dialogus’ shows us the Treasurer and the two chamberlains of the Exchequer as the three inseparable Treasury officers. Domesday connects the first with Winchester by showing us Henry “thesaurarius” as a tenant-in-chief in Hampshire. I propose to show that it also connects one of the chamberlains with that county. In that same invaluable but unprinted charter of which I have spoken above, which was granted at Leicester (1153) to William Mauduit, Duke Henry says:

Insuper etiam reddidi eidem camerariam meam thesauri cum liberatione[178] et cum omnibus pertinentibus, castellum scilicet de Porcestra ut supradiximus, et omnes terras ad predictum camerariam et ad predictum castellum pertinentes, sive sint in Anglia sive Normannia, sicut pater suus illam camerariam cum pertinentibus melius habuit et sicut Robertus Maledoctus frater suus eam habebat die quo vivus fuit et mortuus.

This carries back the ‘cameraria thesauri’ (‘_illam_ camerariam’) to the Domesday tenant, whose son Robert occurs in the earlier Winchester Survey, and, though dead in 1130, is mentioned on the Roll of that year (p. 37), in connection with the Treasury in Normandy.

The history of Porchester, in the Norman period, has yet to be worked out. Mr. Clark, for instance, tells us that the castle was “always in the hands of the Crown,”[179] yet we find it here appurtenant to the chamberlainship, and in Domesday (47 _b_) it was a ‘manor’ held by William Malduith. The above charter, in my opinion, was one of those which Duke Henry granted without intending to fulfil.[180] Porchester had clearly been secured by the Crown, and Henry was not the man to part with such a fortress. Of William Mauduith’s Domesday fief, Hartley Mauditt (‘Herlege’) also was held by the later Mauduits; but they held it still “per serjanteriam camar[ariæ] Domini Regis”[181] or “per camerariam ad scaccarium.”[182]

It should be added that the other chamberlainship of the Exchequer was similarly a serjeanty associated with land. It cannot, however, be carried back beyond 1156, when Henry II. bestowed on Warin Fitz Gerold, chamberlain, lands in Wiltshire worth £34 a year, and in Berkshire to nearly the same amount.[183] The former was the chamberlainship estate, and reappears as Sevenhampton (near Highworth) in his brother’s _carta_ (1166), where it is expressly stated to have been given to Warin by the king.[184] It was similarly held by his heir and namesake (with whom he is often confused), under John,[185] and by the latter’s heir, Margaret ‘de Ripariis,’ under Henry III.[186]

This estate must not be confused with that of Stratton, Wilts, which was bestowed by John (to whom it had escheated) on the later Warin Fitz Gerold, to hold at a fee-farm rent of £13 a year.[187] It is necessary to make this distinction, because Mr. Hall, in dealing with the subject, speaks of it as “held apparently by the Countess of Albemarle as pertaining to the (_sic_) chamberlainship of England” (_sic_).[188] On the same page he speaks of a deed, on page 1024 of the same volume, whereby she “secures to Adam de Strattone, clerk, an annuity of £13, charged on the farm of Stratton.” Reference to page 1024 shows that, on the contrary, what she did was to make herself and her heirs responsible to the Exchequer for the annual £13, which _was_ “the farm” of Stratton (so that Adam might hold Stratton quit therefrom). This is a further instance of Mr. Hall’s unhappy inability to understand or describe accurately the documents with which he deals.[189]

I have now traced for the first time, so far as I can find, the origin of the two chamberlainships of the Exchequer. That of Mauduit can be traced, we see, to a chamberlainship of the ‘Treasury,’ existing certainly under Henry I., and possibly under the Conqueror. Of the other the existence is not proved before 1156. Both, I have shown, were associated with the tenure of certain estates.

It is very strange that, in his _magnum opus_,[190] Madox not only ignores, it would seem, this descent of the office with certain lands, but gives a most unsatisfactory account of those who held the office, confusing it, clearly, with the chamberlainship of England, and not distinguishing or tracing its holders.

* * * * *

For the different standards of payment in use at the Exchequer, our authority, of course, is the ‘Dialogus,’ but the subject, I venture to think, is still exceedingly obscure. Even Mr. Hall, who has studied so closely the ‘Dialogus,’ seems to leave it rather doubtful whether payment in ‘blank’ money meant a deduction of 6_d._ or of 12_d._ on the pound.[191] It will be best to leave the ‘Dialogus’ for the moment, and take an actual case where the charters and the rolls can be compared, and a definite result obtained.

In Lans. MS. 114, at fo. 55, there is a series of extracts transcribed from a Register of Holy Trinity (or Christchurch) Priory, London, in which are comprised the royal charters relating to Queen Maud’s gift of two-thirds of the revenues (ferm) of Exeter. First, Henry I. confirms it, late in his reign,[192] as “xxv libras ad scalam,” the charter being addressed to William bishop of Exeter, and Baldwin the sheriff (_sic_). Then we have another charter from him addressed “Rogero episcopo Sar[esbiriensi] et Baronibus Scaccarii,” and witnessed, at Winchester, by Geoffrey de Clinton, in which it is “xxv libras blancas.” Stephen’s charter follows, addressed to William bishop of Exeter, and Richard son of Baldwin, the sheriff, in which again we have “xxv lib. ad scalam.” Lastly, we come to an important entry that seems to have remained unknown:

In 1180, on St. Martin’s Day, king Henry issued (_fecit currere_) his new money, in the 26th year of his reign, and as the sheriff of Exeter (_Exon’_) would not pay the prior of Christchurch, for Michaelmas term, £12 16_s._ 3_d._ “_secundum pondus blancum_,” Prior Stephen obtained from the king the following writ.

Then follows a writ which clearly belongs not to 1180, but to an earlier period. It is addressed “prepositis et civibus Exonie,” and directs that the canons are to enjoy their rents as in his grandfather’s time (‘Teste Manessero Biset dapifero, apud Wirecestriam’). Next comes a passage so important that it must be quoted in the original words, although, like the whole of the transcript, it seems slightly corrupt.

Comperuit igitur Paganus attornatus vicecomitis predicti in Scaccario, ubi inspecto Rotulo Regis in quo continebatur carta predict[i] r[egis] Quod ecclesiam Christi London debere habere predictos denarios blancos et ad scalam id est ad pondus qui fuerint meliores in pondere quam illa nova moneta per vi _s._ iii _d._ pro termino sancti Mich. arch. predicto. Et sic predictus prior et conventus haberent quolibet anno xii _s._ vi _d._ de incremento, XXV li. blanc. prout patet in carta sequenti.

The writ of the earl of Cornwall, in 1256, which follows, is obviously out of place for our period. Lastly, the canons record the triumph of their case thus:

Perlecta ista carta, constitutus est dies priori Stephano ad peticionem Pagani clerici gerentis vices vicecomitis Exonie a Justicia idem cancellario et baronibus scaccarii ut innotesceret causam istam vicecomiti predicto. Et sic predicti prior et conventus reciperent predictos xii li. xvi _s._ iii _d._ infra xii dies natalis domini de tali moneta qualis tunc curreret. Et ibidem (_i.e._ inde) fuerunt plegii Radulphus de Glanvilla tunc Justicia Regis et Rogerus filius Reinfridi et Alanus de Furnellis, coram hiis testibus Gaufrido episcopo Eliensi; Ricardo thesaurario Regis, postea episcopo Londoniensi; Roberto Mantello; Michaele Belet; Edwardo clerico; Elia hostiario, et multis aliis. Ad terminum vero predictun* Willelmus, vicecomes Exonie, de (_sic_) Br[iwerre], etc.

So at length the prior received the full amount “numeratos, blancos, ad scalam, tales (eis) quorum xx solidi numerati fecerunt libram Regis.”

Corrupt though the text in places is, the outline of the story is clear enough, and is supported by such record evidence as survives. The local authorities, clearly, were directed to pay the canons £25 “ad scalam” annually, “hoc est,” says the ‘Dialogus,’ “propter quamlibet numeratam libram vi _d._” This is fully borne out by the Pipe Rolls which both in 1130 and under Henry II. record the annual payment as £25 12_s._ 6_d._ “numero.” When the new coinage became current in 1180, the local authorities evidently claimed that as they had to pay in standard coin, they ought no longer to be liable for the 12_s._ 6_d._ excess which they paid under the old system. The case, however, was given against them, apparently on the ground that they were liable for 6_d._ additional on every “numbered” pound, irrespective of the quality of the coin.

The difficulty is created by the use of the term “blancos” throughout as equivalent to “ad scalam,” an equation which is certainly found in the text of the charters. It will, however, be better to discuss this point when dealing with the blanch system as a whole.

Before leaving the above case, we should notice, first, that the crown had a ‘roll,’ on which were recorded such charters as this of Henry I. I do not remember mention of such a roll elsewhere. The question irresistibly suggests itself whether we have not here the origin of those “Cartæ Antiquæ,” of which the existence, I am given to understand, has ever yet been accounted for. On turning to these most interesting records we find that Roll N commences with twenty-three charters to Holy Trinity Priory, all of them previous to the middle of Henry II.’s reign. They are transcribed in a hand of the period, those which follow being later additions. It seems to me, therefore, that in this “Roll N” we may have the actual “Rotulus Regis,” produced in court before Glanville, which contained, as does “Roll N,” the charter of Henry I.