HOW TO DECIPHER AND STUDY OLD
DOCUMENTS.

THE KEY TO THE FAMILY DEED CHEST

HOW TO DECIPHER
AND
STUDY OLD DOCUMENTS

BEING A GUIDE TO THE READING OF
ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS

BY

E. E. THOYTS

(MRS. JOHN HAUTENVILLE COPE)

WITH AN INTRODUCTION

BY

C. TRICE MARTIN

ASSISTANT KEEPER OF H.M. RECORDS

SECOND EDITION

LONDON
ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW
1903

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.

Just ten years ago this little volume made its first appearance. Although many books on similar subjects have been written in that time, none have exactly given the same information, and this second edition has been decided upon. Additions and corrections to bring the book up to date have been made, but much still remains, and must remain, imperfect in so small a work on so large a subject, and the present pages only profess to help beginners over some of the initial difficulties they will meet with.

It has been urged that handwriting and its characteristics have nothing to do with old deeds, but careful study of every line and letter is useful, especially with regard to private letters, or when any question arises as to whether the manuscripts are genuine or forgeries. That is why the second chapter, on handwriting and descriptions of old ink, paper, and paper marks and seals, was written, for all such items are of great importance.

A recent celebrated trial (the Shipway case, in which an old register was altered) shows that careful attention to minute details is necessary. Parish registers have not, and are not, at the present moment protected against frauds of this kind, which are far less common than might be supposed.

Old deeds are now bought and sold; it is a trade quite as much as that in old books. Some years ago, in Edinburgh, a number of clever forgeries were sold as genuine, which if they had been so would have cleared up a historical question of great importance.

Many friends who helped me when I first wrote the book are, alas! dead; only their letters remain, and from these I have used extracts in revising this edition.

Mr. Trice Martin has most kindly read it through and criticised it, as he did ten years ago, and if mistakes still remain, I trust my readers will be lenient. It must, however, be remembered that I am writing only about the class of deeds which are usually met with in old houses, and not attempting to describe every description of charter or deed.

EMMA ELIZABETH COPE.

130, Hyde Park Mansions, W.

September, 1903.

AUTHOR’S PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.

In the following pages I have tried to describe the things which puzzled me when, as a beginner, I first essayed to read and understand the old records of bygone times. Written in a language I knew not, relating to customs no longer existing, all was strange and unfamiliar. I toiled on; by degrees light dawned and the difficulties melted away. The knowledge thus gained I have endeavoured, in all humility, to write down as a possible guide and help to others who may, like myself, prefer to follow antiquarian research by means of old deeds and other manuscripts, as being the original source and most trustworthy fountain-head of knowledge, and by this means to avoid as much as possible repeating the assertions and mistakes of previous writers.

In the chapter on Paleography I have named the books which were my guides, and in these pages I have tried to supply information supplementary to what is already printed on the subject, rather than repeat what has previously been explained. The growing fashion for all kinds of antiquarianism creates a desire for books treating upon such subjects, and this has induced me to write this book.

E. E. THOYTS.

Sulhamstead,

May, 1893.

CONTENTS.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

INTRODUCTION.

Books written to teach any branch of human knowledge are, in most cases, written by persons who have long known and used the knowledge which they impart, and, perhaps for that reason, have more or less forgotten the steps of the ladder up which they have climbed; but in this case the process has been so recent that the difficulties and dangers of each step have been remembered, and the reader accordingly warned against them.

The meaning of the various kinds of documents which are likely to be found among the title-deeds of an estate, or among the archives of a parish or a corporation, are described without needless technicalities, in a practical way, which will appeal to those who begin to work among such material without previous knowledge.

The first step, of course, is to learn to read. This wants perseverance and a quick eye, but regular practice will soon enable the student to read any ordinary documents, which at first seemed utterly unintelligible, and gradually the power of understanding really difficult and obscure MSS. will be acquired. But this first step must be thoroughly mastered, for to attempt to get information from old writings without thoroughly knowing the forms of the letters, and the different systems of abbreviations and contractions, would be like trying to keep accounts without knowing how to add up a column of figures.

And indeed paleography is the foundation of all history. There may be historians, like the late Mr. Freeman, who have but little knowledge of the science (he, I believe, boasted of his inability to read a manuscript), but then such writers rely on the paleographic knowledge of others, who have edited the manuscripts which they desire to use, and they have, or ought to have, sufficient scholarship to judge which are the best editions, and even occasionally to detect editors’ mistakes.

But an acquaintance with this branch of knowledge is often of the greatest use to biographers and historians. It is much better, for instance, to be able to judge whether a certain document is of the age which it professes, or in whose hand a draft of a treaty is, than to have to accept the opinion of someone else.

The mistakes made through want of this knowledge are common, and sometimes very amusing. Familiar enough is the old story of the parish priest in the time of King Henry VIII., who in the canon of the Mass, in the prayer after taking the wine, read the word ‘sumpsimus’ as mumpsimus, because he had a thirteenth-century missal in which s and m are much alike, and refused to alter his mistake when it was pointed out to him. It was referred to by King Henry VIII. in his speech to the Parliament in 1545, and, in fact, this ignorant priest has ‘made himself an everlasting name’ for conservative stupidity.

In more recent times, the historian of one of our beautiful north-country abbeys talks of a gift of a silver chest by the founder in the eleventh century. The reader wonders what this chest could have been—was it a native work or imported? was it some ecclesiastical ornament or merely a strong box? But on turning to the document on which the account is based, the meaning is clear. It was not a chest of silver, but an ordinary coin known as a mark of silver. The MS. reads unāmarcāargenti. The writer of the book had not noticed the contraction over the first a, divided the words wrongly, and read it unam arcam, instead of unam marcam.

In another similar book the story is narrated of the ill-treatment by a forester of an abbot whose house was near a royal forest. The abbot was no doubt like the monk who made the celebrated pilgrimage to Canterbury—

‘An outrydere that lovede venerye.

*****

He yaf nat of that text a pulled hen

That seith that hunters been nat holy men.’

And perhaps the forester had good reason to complain of him. But in the account of the quarrel, the forester is said to have gone into the abbot’s kitchen and taken away his cabbages—not very likely things for a forester to take, as he probably would have found something far better worth carrying off. However, on looking at the MS. it appears almost certain that what was read as chous is really chens, that is, chiens. In fact, they were the

‘Grehoundes he hadde as swifte as fowel in flight,

For priking and for hunting for the hare,’

who were perhaps lying before the fire asleep after a long afternoon’s coursing.

In the same case it is said that the forester’s treatment of the tenants on one of the abbey farms is so bad that no one dare die there; it is suggested, because the forester would not allow anyone to come to administer the last consolations of religion. But the words de murir, on which the observation is based, are merely a careless scribe’s writing of demeurer.

In another book farmers are represented as using stones for fuel, which are suggested to have been coal; but this results from mis-reading petarum (peat), as if it were pet^arum, a contracted form of petrarum (stones).

The spreading desire to know something of paleography is very remarkable, and is much to be commended. For all persons who interest themselves in the documents to which they may have access in the possession of private persons, or in repositories not generally known, are helping in the grand work of making clear the laws and customs and mode of living of our ancestors, and thus constantly come across information, not to be found in our more public collections of records, which often throws light on many dark passages of history.

C. T. MARTIN.

HOW TO DECIPHER AND STUDY OLD DOCUMENTS.

CHAPTER I.
HINTS TO BEGINNERS.

Fashion changes in everything; but these alterations go on so imperceptibly, so gradually, that ofttimes we fail to recognise their progress except by glancing backwards into the past. But the fashion of handwriting and its changes are very forcibly brought home to us when confronted for the first time with some old deed or paper; and a feeling of helplessness reduces the amateur to the verge of despair as the pages of unintelligible hieroglyphics are spread out, as unfamiliar as Sanscrit or Egyptian characters. But perseverance conquers all difficulties.

Every generation has its own particular type of writing. Compare, for instance, any bundle of letters taken, hap-hazard, out of an old desk or secrétaire; it is quite easy to sort them into bundles in sequence of dates, and also guess accurately the age and position of the writers.

The flowing Italian hand, used by educated women early in the last century, changed with fashion into the freer style of the succeeding generation; this in the third generation had further developed into the bold, decisive, almost masculine writing adopted by the more strong-minded females of the latter end of the nineteenth century.

Of course, school-teaching is responsible to a certain extent for handwriting. Our University men of to-day all, with few exceptions, use a neat scholarly form of writing, free from flourishes, and with simple capital letters and the small broken-backed Greek letter ε. Compared with the scholar’s, the soldier’s writing is bolder and rounder, while the clerk’s is still more distinct in type in its open lettering, interspersed with curls and twists. So with most professions it will be found that each has special characteristics; but these are liable to change according to circumstances; thus, the clerk will form his letters less distinctly after the need of great legibility no longer compels him to carefulness. Self-education will often alter a vulgar, ill-formed writing to a better, more studied style; and writing is the clearest proof of both bodily and mental condition, for in cases of paralysis or mental aberration the doctor takes it as a certain guide. The writing of feeble-minded persons is like that of a scarcely-educated child.

Looking back to the days when writing was a profession of itself, it can easily be understood how it is that we find less variety among old writings. For in those days, before printing was discovered, or at least but imperfectly executed and understood, all books had to be produced by hand, and were the work either of paid scribes, whose duty it was to reproduce copies of well-known authors; or else copied out by clerks or private secretaries at the dictation of the authors themselves, who could seldom spare the time to commit their ideas to paper, or, even if they did so, it was customary to have additional copies made by professed scribes. Unacquainted with the subjects of the books, and copying merely from verbal dictation, it is no wonder that mistakes and misunderstandings often occurred, especially in the spelling of place and personal names; for one man reading aloud to several scribes, each would write down the names and words as they sounded to his individual sense of hearing, for the constant interruption necessary to ensure complete accuracy would cause the process to be tedious and very lengthy.

Private correspondence, even, was carried on as a profession; writing shops existed up to a comparatively late period; at present, in out-of-the-way streets in London, one reads the notice ‘Letters written here,’ though this generally means that letters may be sent to that address.

Authors who indited or dictated their own books had them afterwards transcribed neatly for preservation, and probably destroyed the original notes, for of these comparatively few, if any, exist.

All the earliest scribes had a special education for their profession, being sent to some monastery for that purpose; hence they were either foreigners, or educated under foreign monks, either French or Italian, and the effect of this teaching is clearly demonstrated by the similitude which exists all over Europe between manuscripts of the early Middle Ages.

In England the Norman Conquest overruled most of the previous customs and styles. Vast crowds of Normans emigrated continuously to our shores. This went on more or less for at least three or four centuries, and then prejudice against foreigners asserted itself, and the Saxon element, which still remained among the lower classes of the people, gained the ascendant. In the reign of Henry V. alien priories were suppressed, and foreign monks and priests no longer travelled backwards and forwards from the Norman abbeys to the junior houses or cells in England. The rich merchants, who resorted here from the Low Countries and Germany, brought with them their own customs and fashions; and at this time will first be noticed the use of a written character, like the modern German, which steadily came more and more into use until the end of the seventeenth century, when it died out and the style altered to a rounder, freer hand.

So long as education was almost entirely monastic, or at least conducted by teachers trained in monastic institutions, we find (as we should naturally expect to do) a regularity, carefulness and formality in the handwriting of the period; but so soon as England had shaken off the authority of Rome and the educated communities had been scattered and disbanded, a marked change took place in the quantity and quality of all kinds of writing. The monks and nuns, rendered homeless by the Reformation, returned to their native villages, thus spreading education among all classes and creating a desire after learning. But the primary cause of the alteration in handwriting, so very marked in the sixteenth century, was perhaps attributable to the introduction of the art of printing, which naturally was fatal to handwriting as a profession. The scribe was no longer required to multiply the author’s productions; so that lawyers and public office clerks only remained out of the large class who had formerly earned their living as professional writers. In the actual writing, also, a change took place. The old elaborate letters were supplanted by the simple capitals copied from the printer’s blocks. Some day, maybe, writing will die out altogether; every year fresh improvements and inventions are increasing; now type-writers and multiplying machines are used in place of handwriting in many offices, while sooner or later typing by machine will be universal.

A hundred years ago, very few if any of the labourers could either read or write; even now, in out-of-the-way country places, there exist people ignorant of these (to us) necessary arts. The marriage registers of the eighteenth century prove to us the ignorance of the country folk; frequently neither the contracting parties nor their witnesses could write their names, using instead either some eccentric monogram bearing a faint resemblance to initials—a memory perhaps of a bygone and very slight amount of teaching—or oftener still we find in lieu of name the old Christian cross, which has been in use by the illiterate from Saxon times as a pledge of good faith and consent.

Previous to the nineteenth century, education in country places was either altogether absent or provided out of the bounty of the squire or parson, the teacher being some old ignorant person prevented by age or bodily infirmity from pursuing active labour, and whose qualifications were merely a smattering of the ‘three R’s,’ which, with plain sewing, was the whole of his or her useful though scanty répertoire. Children then were sent out to work at the age of nine or ten years, and earlier if anybody could be found to employ them in service. When once placed out, they had no opportunities of gaining further book knowledge, and soon forgot the little they had learnt for want of practice or stimulation, nor had they sufficient mental capacity to study by themselves, except in very exceptional cases of natural genius.

If this was the state of things within the memory of those still alive, we can well believe how very limited was the knowledge of handwriting some hundreds of years ago, and can more fully understand that the scribe was a very important personage, and took great pride in his work.

It is very rare to find mistakes or erasures in the lettering of old charters. Varieties of spelling occur everywhere; a name is often found spelt two or three different ways on the same page; but this is easily explained if the work was written from dictation, especially if pronounced to or by a foreigner. Our English language being so full of unexpected variations of spelling, it is no wonder that names of people and places suffered at the hands of a transcriber unacquainted with the localities, and who merely wrote down the words as they sounded to him. The actual spelling of words remained fairly constant. Certainly to us they look very curious, for English orthography has undergone innumerable changes; in course of time new words are being coined, and old words alter not only in spelling, but also in meaning and significance. If we wish for an example of Old English phraseology, we have our present version of the Bible—which, being translated into English in the seventeenth century, now sounds quaint, and in many parts the sense of the words is a matter of dispute. If it be compared with the Revised Version the changes which have taken place in our language in the two past centuries become very evident. All this must be borne in mind when the task of transcribing and translating old writing is undertaken, and allowance must be made for all such alterations both in style and spelling.

It has been said that a knowledge of Latin is indispensable to the would-be transcriber of old deeds; this is not really the case for ordinary antiquarian research, for the meaning can be discovered easily with only very slight knowledge. Legal Latin consists so entirely of set forms that when once these forms are familiar to the reader, they are without any difficulty recognised, and are so little liable to any variations that they are easily rendered into English. The most important points being a correct and accurate attention to the names of people and places, with the descriptions of the localities referred to. As the use of Latin for legal transactions almost entirely superseded the Norman-French language after the reign of Edward III. (although it is an open question whether deeds were not duplicated into the two languages), very few old deeds are met with in the latter language, and those few are usually so well written and legible that they can easily be understood with the help of a slight knowledge of modern French.

Indeed, a transcriber’s work properly consists chiefly in correctly putting into modern handwriting the deeds which are only illegible to those unfamiliar with the handwriting; in consequence an actual acquaintance with the Latin grammar is less important than a correct eye, quick to note every minute difference in letters. Every stroke of the pen means something; bars or curves are the representatives of absent words or syllables, and are never dashed down hap-hazard or by accident. Therefore it is possible to understand the meaning of the abbreviated portions correctly, although extension with absolute grammatical correctness can never be ensured without study of the language and a knowledge of its grammar.

One of the best methods of learning to read courthand is first to devote a short time to the study of shorthand; any system will do, it being merely a means of training the eye and brain into speedily noticing small shades of difference, undetected except by comparison. For in all kinds of shorthand the least stroke or dot, or even a change in the position of a line, will entirely alter the spelling or meaning of a word.

Next, I would advise the careful study of an old deed, one of those written late in the seventeenth or early in the eighteenth century, because these deeds give the phraseology or form of sentences, and are often written in English in a fairly clear hand, freer from contractions than earlier manuscripts, and the beginner has so many new things to discover and learn that it is well to commence by not attempting too much at the first start. An acquaintance with the style of words used in legal language is a good groundwork to commence with. Spread out the parchment before you; never mind the fact that only a word or two, or even only a chance letter here and there catches your eye. Then set to work to compare the letters of the words you do know with the letters in other words which at the commencement looked so strange to you.

It was in this way that Egyptian hieroglyphics were first successfully studied.

Remember that three consonants seldom come together; no word is formed without the help of one or more vowels; the final letter or letters more often supply a clue than the capital letter or beginning syllable, especially in the so-called courthands.

Beware of too imaginative guesses. Although this fault is easily remedied, still, it is better to spell a word out letter by letter, however unintelligible and depressing the result at first may be. It is so easy to take a name or word for granted, and an idea once seized upon is not quickly eradicated, and may bring about absurd results and deductions.

Do not ponder too long over a word which puzzles you, but go on, leaving gaps in your copy with a stroke underneath corresponding with or leaving sufficient space for the missing word. These spaces can then be filled in afterwards, when the general sense of the document has been mastered, and the aspect of the particular style of writing has become familiar. Then it will be found that words hitherto seemingly unintelligible resolve themselves into readable form, and although apparently impossible to decipher at the first reading, later on they present no difficulty. A little practice and patience soon overcome the difficulties of the first start, and after that the progress is rapid.

To begin by learning a variety of old alphabets seems to me so much waste of time, although it would be a valuable groundwork to commence with. The true alphabet for beginners lies in the contracted words, whose missing portions must be supplied by the reader from the few letters given, which are often not even one connected syllable, but instead merely one or two letters out of the missing syllable clustered together.

The reason for this style of writing was to save time and material. With use, it grew into a complete system, a language of its own. At the time it was penned, these contractions were no doubt perfectly familiar to all, just as our modern abbreviations are. Of these last there are more contractions in use nowadays than would at first be realized—our daily correspondence is full of them; these may have originated from the older system of contractions, relics of it, still left lingering on.

A few examples of modern abbreviations will not be out of place here, as showing that a contracted form of writing is not so very difficult or extraordinary after all.

&, and, derived from the Latin et; the second example, which is still in use, can be traced in very old documents from et, till gradually it assumed its modern shape.

M^r, mister or master; S^r for sir was formerly in common use.

C^o, company; C^ie, compagnie (French).

etc., derived from the first three letters of the Latin word etcetera.

The words ‘with, which, whereof, where,’ etc., were formerly abbreviated; also yr for your, ye the, and many others now obsolete.

Pounds, shillings and pence we still designate by the Latin £ s. d.

The long word ‘affectionate’ is seldom written in full; so, too, with many other words there are recognised forms of contraction, and when this is borne in mind the abbreviations of old deeds appear in quite a different light, and we attack their difficulties with less dread of failure.

CHAPTER II.
HANDWRITING.

Many books have been recently published on the subject of ‘Character by Handwriting,’ but they are not very descriptive in detail, although the theories and rules for character-describing by this means are both clear and decided.

It is now no longer the rule to teach children to write entirely by the aid of set copies, as was the case with our forefathers, who wrote after one approved pattern, which children copied as nearly as possible from the original set for them; therefore characteristic peculiarities were longer in asserting themselves, and what is now considered a ‘formed’ handwriting was not developed till late in life.

There were, and still are, two divisions or classes of handwriting—the professional and the personal; with the first the action was mechanical, and exhibits few, if any, traces of personality. Yet even in the oldest manuscripts there are certain defined characteristics plainly shown. The handwritings of historical and celebrated personages coincide to a remarkable degree with their known virtues and vices, as criticised and detailed by their biographers.

As the art of writing became general, its form varied more and more, becoming gradually less formal, and each person wrote as was easiest to himself. Education, as a rule, has a far from beneficial effect upon handwriting; an active brain creates ideas too fast to give the hand time to form the letters clearly, patiently and evenly, the matter, not the material, being to the writer of primary importance.

So, as study increased among all classes, writing degenerated from its originally clear, regular lettering into every style of penmanship.

Of course a child’s writing resembles only the copy-book, of which it is supposed to be an exact imitation; soon, however, the round curves sharpen, the disconnected letters join without any breaks in the words; the even lines and distances are no longer so carefully measured and considered; eccentricities of style creep in, with sundry loops and twirls, giving the whole a grown-up appearance—a decided individuality of its own.

If the subject of handwriting as a test of character is carefully studied it will be found that immediate circumstances greatly influence it: anxiety or great excitement of any kind, illness or any violent emotion, will for the moment greatly affect the writing. From handwriting the doctor can hazard an opinion as to the mental state of his patient. In all cases of paralysis the writing is temporarily affected, and the patient is usually at first deprived of the power of writing; when the mind recovers its consciousness and the muscles their strength, the power returns, but with a feebleness not formerly observed. Writing depends upon so many things—a firm grasp of the pen, a pliability of the muscles, clearness of vision and brain-power—even the writing materials, pens, ink and paper, all make a difference. It is not strange, then, that with so many causes upon which it depends, writing should be an excellent test of temperament and bodily health.

Any school-teacher or head of a college, through whose hands a large correspondence passes, usually contracts a habit of forming conclusions as to the mental and moral calibre of the writers, their social status and natural bias of disposition. A round, childish handwriting is said to show conceit and self-satisfaction. Ignorance and conceit are often closely linked together. The uneducated generally have a very good opinion of their own personal qualifications. The most youthful form of writing is not, therefore, indicative of talent or general capacity, and seldom shows any originality.

All needless flourishes and ornamentation are the result of egotism and vanity. But be it remembered that any virtue exaggerated at once becomes a fault; that whereas a little conceit is necessary to stimulate ambition, the same in too great excess becomes egotistic vanity. Genius is apt to overestimate its own depth and originality, yet without any self-appreciation there is danger of a lack of effort; despair prevents perseverance, and is a bar to any success.

Excitability, hastiness, and impatience are all seen in the handwriting at a glance. A quick brain suggests words and sentences so fast, one upon another, that though the pen races along the page it cannot write down the ideas quickly enough to satisfy the author. With a calm, calculating disposition this frantic haste is neither known nor understood—such persons do not rush to conclusions, but ponder over every subject. Intuitive perception in the excitable person becomes judgment in a tranquil mind. Temper depends upon temperament. The crosses of the letter ‘t’ are the index whereby to judge of it. If these strokes are regular through a whole page of writing, the writer may be assumed to have an even-placed temper; if dashed off at random—quick short strokes, somewhat higher than the letter itself—quick outbursts of anger may be expected, but of short duration, unless the stroke is firm and black, in which case great violence may safely be predicted.

Uncertainty of character and temper is shown by the variation of these strokes to the letter ‘t’. Sometimes the cross is firm and black, then next time it is light; sometimes it is omitted altogether, varying with each repetition of the letter like the opinions and sentiments of an undecided person. The up and down strokes of the letters tell of strength or weakness of will; gradations of light and shade, too, may be observed in these strokes. The sloping Italian handwriting of our grandmothers is just what might be expected from women refined and sensitive, grounded in several branches of study, well educated as a whole, but not especially so in any one particular line. The absence of any self-assertion is very strongly marked. The independence of their granddaughters can be traced in every line and stroke of their pens. Little or no distinction is observable between the writing of young men and women nowadays. Even the graphologist dare scarcely hazard an opinion as to the sex of the writer, but indulges in vague wording, avoiding any direct use of personal pronouns.

Capital letters tell us many points of interest. By them originality, talent, and mental capacity are displayed, as well as any latent vulgarity or want of education. There are two styles of capital letters at present in use. The high-class style employed by persons of education is plain and often eccentric, but without much ornamentation. The other may be called the middle class, for it is used by servants and tradespeople having a fair amount of education, mingled with a good deal of conceited ignorance and false pride. With these last the capital letters are much adorned by loops, hooks, and curves, noticeable principally in the heads of the letters or at their commencement. Perhaps, for purposes of character delineation, it will be better to give the characteristics, pointing out the style and form of the letters peculiar to each.

Plain, neatly-formed handwriting shows an orderly mind, the result of education. The whole tendency of education is to regulate the mind and restrain the impulses. Education checks conceit, for the more anyone knows, the more aware does he become of the wide amount there is to be learnt, and how little is the knowledge possessed by the cleverest scholars in the world.

It will generally be found that with writing having much resemblance, a characteristic similarity also exists; therefore, to become proficient as a graphologist, a careful study must be made of the writings of those whose whole life and character, together with personal peculiarities, are intimately known and understood, and from this conclusions may be drawn and rules arrived at for future use.

Affection is marked by open loops and a general slant or slope of the writing. A hard nature, unsympathetic and unimpressionable, has very little artistic feeling or love of the fine arts; therefore the same things which indicate a soft, affectionate disposition will also indicate poetry, music, and painting, or one or other kindred subjects. The first of these accompanies a loving, impulsive nature; with music the impulse is replaced by perseverance; for natural genius cannot expand without patient study. In painting three things are absolutely necessary to produce an artist. Form, colour, light and shade—all these three will influence the writing; but art of any kind is very complex. Success implies a certain degree of ambition, and consequent upon it is vanity and egotism; hence the artist’s signature is generally peculiar and often unreadable, from its originality, egotism, and exuberance of creative power.

Imagination and impulse do not tend to improve handwriting. The strokes are too erratic, and the capital letters never follow the copy-book pattern. Over-haste is visible in every line. A warm-hearted, impulsive person feels deeply and passionately at the moment of writing, and dashes off the words without regard to the effect they will produce upon the reader. What is generally lacking is judgment and the power of analytical thought. These important qualities may be detected in disjoined words, which here and there may be seen even with a handwriting in which impulse and sequence of ideas are leading characteristics. The writer has evidently paused to think, although unaware of it himself. These breaks give a power of criticism, combined with clearness of intellect. Without breaks no common-sense is found, but if they appear too often it shows a wearying and needless worry over trivial details, and self-torment as to the opinions of other people.

Truth and straightforwardness give even lines running across the page and regular distances from one word to another. Tact is very essential. This quality requires often slight deceptions to be allowed or practised, white lies, or delusive silence; hence an unevenness in the writing is observed. It is a deviation, although slight, from the path of truth, and here and there the letters rise or fall below the lines. Untruthfulness gives greater unevenness still; but do not rush to conclusions on this point, for an unformed handwriting shows this peculiarity very often, being merely due, not to evil qualities, but to an unsteady hand employed in work to which it is unused.

Very round even writing in which the vowels are not closed, denotes candour and openness of disposition, with an aptitude for giving advice, whether asked or unasked, not always of a complimentary kind. Blunt, crabbed writing suggests obstinacy and a selfish love of power, without thought for the feelings of others. True selfishness gives every curve an inward bend, very marked in the commencement of words or capital letters.

Perseverance and patience are closely allied. In the former the letter ‘t’ is hooked at the top, and also its stroke has a dark curved end, showing that when once an idea has been entertained no earthly persuasion will alter or eradicate it. Such writers have strongly-defined prejudices, and are apt to take very strong dislikes without much cause.

Calmness and patience also are frequently linked together—more often in later life, when adversity has blunted the faculties, or the dull routine of uneventful existence has destroyed all romance. Then the writing has short up-and-down strokes, the curves are round, the bars short and straight; there are no loops or flourishes; the whole writing exhibits great neatness and regularity. Economy of living, curiously enough, is marked by a spare use of ink. The terminals are abrupt and blunt, leaving off short. Where economy is the result of circumstances, not disposition, only some of the words are thus ended, while others have open, free curves, and the long letters are looped. Generosity and liberality may be seen likewise in the end curve of every word. Where these characteristics are inconstant and variable, the disposition will be found to be uncertain—liberal in some matters, while needlessly economical and stingy in others.

A person fond of society writes the capital letter ‘M’ with the three upper curves on the same level. If the tail of this letter is carried far below the line, there is vulgarity of mind and imperfect education. Bars used instead of stops are the result of caution. The writer fears lest his sentences should be misinterpreted by being run into each other. When a bar is placed below the signature, it means tenacity of purpose, coupled with extreme caution; perhaps, also, a dread of criticism and adverse opinions. No dots to the letter ‘i’ means negligence, a want of attention to details, with but a small faculty of observation. When the dots are placed at random, neither above nor in proximity to the letter to which they belong, impressionability, want of reflection, and impulsiveness may be anticipated.

Ambition and gratified happiness give to the whole writing an upward tendency. Hopefulness lacks the firmness of ambition, and appears only in the signature which curves upwards, while the rest of the writing is impulsive, without much firmness.

Sorrow gives every line of the writing a downward inclination. Temporary affliction will at once show in the writing: a preoccupied mind, full of trouble, cares little whether the letter then written is legible or neat; hence the writing is erratic, uncertain, and the confusion of mind is clearly exhibited in every line. Irritable and touchy persons slope the flourishes only, such as the cross of the letter ‘t’ and the upper parts of the capital letters. When the capital letters stand alone in front of the words, and the final letters also are isolated, it betokens great creative power and ideality, such as would form an author and clever writer.

The most personal part of a letter or document is, of course, the signature, but alone it is not a safe guide to character. The lines placed below or after it tell a great deal more than the actual name.

A curved bending line, ending in a hook, indicates coquetry, love of effect, and ideality.

An exaggerated, comma-like form of line means caprice, tempered by gravity of thought, and versatility of ideas.

An unyielding will—fiery, and at the same time determined—draws a firm hooked line after the name.

A wavy line shows great variety in mental power, with originality.

Resolution is shown by a plain line; and extreme caution, with full power to calculate effect and reason a subject from every point of view, is shown by two lines and dots, thus——:——.

To sum up the matter briefly, it will be observed that a clever person cares very little about the form of his writing—it is the matter alone which concerns him; whereas, with a limited brain-power, great care as to appearance is taken. But human nature is never a simple combination of elements, it is dependable upon a complexity of changes and chances.

It is said that with everyone a complete change takes place every seven years. Motives and circumstances all leave decided marks upon the character and mind of an individual. Not perhaps for years will innate virtues or vices become apparent, which have lain dormant, awaiting circumstances to develop them.

A collection of any person’s old letters is very curious. Written from earliest childhood to extreme old age, a veritable life’s history lies in the faded ink; and to study character from handwriting fairly it can only be done from such authenticated examples.

Old letters written two or three hundred years ago are of great value for the purpose, because, so far as they are concerned, all party spirit and prejudice is dead, buried, and forgotten. Their biographers no longer fear the consequence of a too candid and personal account, and are therefore more likely to give a just and calm criticism of character, weighing evenly in the balance both virtues and vices. With historical characters it is curious to contrast the contemporary biographies with the graphologist’s opinion of their handwriting, given without knowing whose the writing was.

Any collection of old MSS. is interesting, as showing the various styles of writing in vogue at different periods. Fashion or circumstances had some influence on this point. Royal marriages with foreign princesses brought England into contact with different nations. Wars in strange lands introduced alien words into our vocabulary, some of which speedily became naturalized, while others, voted slang, remained only for a short while and then disappeared. New words are constantly being coined, and take the place of others. This may seem a trivial matter, and irrelevant to the subject of old writing, but any points bearing on the subject must throw new light upon it and help to elucidate it.

The personality of a writer can never be wholly separated from his works. And in any question of date or authenticity of a document being called in question, the value of graphology and its theories will be found of the utmost importance; for the various changes in the style of handwriting, or in the spelling of words, although perhaps so minute and gradual as seldom to be remarked, are, nevertheless, links in a chain which it would be extremely hard to forge successfully so as to deceive those acquainted with the matter and well versed in its peculiarities.

Marked characteristics are noticeable in the old Black Letter MSS. of the early days before printing, and the authenticity of a deed, etc., may be decided by some slight peculiarity in its lettering.

CHAPTER III.
ANGLO-SAXON, NORMAN-FRENCH, LATIN, AND OLD ENGLISH.

Although we are always told that our present English language is directly derived from that of our Saxon forefathers, this information gives us very little, if any, help towards deciphering the old Anglo-Saxon documents. The Saxons, we are told, were not one nation, but rather composed of an aggregate of tribes of Germanic and Scandinavian origin, whose piratical instincts led them to seek adventure by sea and land and form new colonies, just as at the present day Englishmen go forth in search of fame and fortune in the uttermost parts of the earth.

EXTRACT FROM DOMESDAY.[1]

Thus the Saxon language, although derived from one identical base, was a collection of dialects banded together, which, in its educated and scholastic form, greatly resembled German in its construction.

The language of the Anglo-Saxon (so far as Great Britain is concerned) has been classified under three distinct headings, the first being pure Anglo-Saxon, i.e., the language as spoken by the first settlers, with an admixture of Celtic or British; secondly, this same combination with the addition of Danish; and thirdly, the three above-named languages combined, with the further addition of Norman-French, having in all a Saxon dialect for the basis, to which were afterwards added new words brought into it by foreign invaders or emigrants from over the seas. Since the invention of printing great changes have taken place in our language, and to go back prior to that epoch reveals greater changes still.

The writings of early chroniclers and poets are so full of words and phrases now obsolete that many books and dictionaries have been compiled to explain their meanings.

The Lord’s Prayer, as given in the Durham Book. This is a copy of the Gospels of the Anglo-Saxon period. It was formerly in the Cottonian Library, now in the Manuscript Department of the British Museum. It is known as ‘Nero D. iv.’ Old Sir Robert Cotton had busts of the Roman Emperors over his book-shelves, and the names survive), looks to us hopelessly foreign—only a few words are familiar. The personal pronouns ‘us,’ ‘we,’ ‘he,’ ‘him,’ and the preposition ‘to,’ as well as the conjunction ‘and,’ are unchanged, but the verbs are conjugated quite differently to the correct English of to-day; still, if we would seek for a living example resembling old Saxon dialect, it can easily be found in several parts of England, such as Devonshire, Dorsetshire, and other counties, the country-folk still speaking almost pure Anglo-Saxon, though this is fast dying out before the advance of education and Board-school science. The Anglo-Saxon alphabetical characters differ only from the Roman in the letter ‘w,’ written ƿ. In their alphabet there are also two additional double letters—‘th,’ represented by the following letter þ, and ‘dh,’ ð, these last being frequently used in the construction of words.

The early Saxon handwriting was bold and clear. Most of it now existing consists of monastic copies of books or charters. The Saxons were a clever and industrious people, plodding and practical. Their abbeys were more of the nature of large seminaries or colleges, where learning was carried on; and in this respect the northern parts of England were better supplied than the south, a result caused probably by each fresh influx of tribes landing on the northern and eastern coasts of the country, and spreading inland from thence. There seems to be no doubt that the reign of King Alfred did much to promote study and an increased attention to literature, previously neglected except among a few professed scholars.

A learned King would naturally set the fashion to his subjects, and Alfred must have possessed immense energy. It was an extraordinary thing for a middle-aged man to be able to educate himself sufficiently to master the difficulties of a foreign language so opposed in construction to his own native tongue as Latin, which in nowise resembles Saxon. He must have toiled hard to have completed the many translations from Latin into Saxon which are accredited to him.

Alfred was a popular hero, and, like all heroes, was invested by tradition with the credit of every improvement in literature or art which took place within his era. Be this as it may, there is no doubt that he did stimulate his fellow-countrymen to make efforts towards self-improvement, by setting them a practical example in himself. Such examples are unfortunately rare; they must always be productive of good results—an ‘ounce of practice is worth a pound of precept.’

From the time of King Alfred’s re-introduction of Latin into this country it gradually gained ground as the language of scholars. Learned ecclesiastics coming to England found it convenient as the medium for exchange of thoughts and ideas. It was for many centuries the accepted ‘Volapuk,’ understood by all who professed any learning.

Rome was the light of the Western world, the centre from whence religion and learning was disseminated to the less enlightened parts of Europe. Careful study of the old authors necessitated an acquaintance with both Greek and Latin. The emissaries of the Pope, either as legates or missionaries, spread all over civilized Europe, and carried with them the learning of their age.

Intercourse between England and France was somewhat checked by dissensions and wars both at home and abroad, but with the Conquest came a large body of monks. The chief wealth of Normandy was invested in its rich abbeys, from whence Duke William had borrowed large sums of money to fit out his expedition upon the security of his future possession of England. These loans he honestly and amply repaid by large grants of land out of his new kingdom; hence new abbeys sprang up in England, filled with foreign monks, who brought over their language, arts and sciences, to teach in the new country they had adopted as their own. The language of the court was of necessity Norman-French, which differs as much from the French of to-day as ancient from modern English. But a knowledge of French makes these early deeds easy to understand.

NORMAN-FRENCH DEED.

The lower orders of the people clung persistently to their own old Saxon tongue, a fact clearly demonstrated by the way the old Saxon field-names are to the present day retained, and flowers, animals, and matters of everyday country-life bear names of evident Saxon origin. The Saxons were a conquered race, and as such became the servants of their conquerors. The animals which in life they tended were eaten by the Norman nobles, who called them, when used as food, by names of French derivation. Thus the Saxon ‘sheep’ when dead became ‘mutton’; ‘pig’ turned into ‘pork’; ‘calf’ into ‘veal,’ etc.

With the names of many wildflowers French origin is traceable, especially with cultivated sorts. We know the monks of the Middle Ages were clever gardeners, and probably by them the wildflowers were named. In Berkshire the village children call field-daisies ‘margs,’ abbreviated, without doubt, from the French marguerite. Among garden flowers there are pansies, French pensé; gillyflower, giroflél, and many others; but as a whole there are few words of distinctly Latin origin to be found in the English dialects relating to everyday affairs. Norman-French did not come into immediate use in legal documents after the Conquest. The earliest deeds of the Norman kings were written in Latin, but after a while French, the everyday language of the upper classes, superseded it for law work—possibly there were duplicate copies of the deeds in both languages—but only for a comparatively short period, a statute being passed in the thirty-sixth year of King Edward III. deciding upon Latin as the law language of the realm, and from this date the use of Norman-French died out, and the English language may be said to have commenced.

The growing dislike of the English to foreign prelates led to a steady resistance of their claims, culminating in the Statutes of Mortmain, Provisors and Præmunire, and finally in the suppression of all alien priories and foreign cells. This stopped the influx of French and Italian monks to our shores; so it was that, after nearly four centuries, the Norman-French language died out and was forgotten. During the Middle Ages, and until the time of the Reformation, the monasteries still continued to be the principal seats of learning throughout the country, and Latin held its ground among scholars and lawyers.

The introduction of printing, and, finally, the changes wrought by the Reformation, disturbed the pre-existing course of things. The English language was gradually settling down into its present form, and about the end of the fifteenth century it began more and more to be used for law business transactions.

The law-Latin, as used in England, degenerated greatly; it became interspersed with words of native origin, Latinized by the lawyer. Old court-rolls especially are full of obsolete words; so, too, are the public rolls, but there are now many dictionaries explaining their meanings. Although of course, here and there an unknown word may occur, yet the context will usually explain or help towards its significance.

The legal Latin became, finally, merely a series of mechanical forms; these at last were translated into English. For this reason a careful study of the wording of a deed of the eighteenth century in English will show that it is the counterpart of the same class of document in its older Latin form.

Latin, like Norman-French, had had its day and was dying out. Finally, by George III.’s Act of Parliament the native language was ordered to be used for law work, and now Latin has become obsolete, so far as practical work is concerned. Understanding old legal Latin—once a necessity for a lawyer—has now become an antiquarian profession. One relic of Anglo-Saxon remained on in our language for many centuries. The double letter þ, ‘th,’ will be found in the written copies of monkish chartularies for place-names beginning with ‘th.’ Even so late as the fifteenth century we find it freely employed in English documents. I possess a copy of the criminal charges made against De la Pole, Duke of Suffolk, for high treason, 1450. Throughout the manuscript the Saxon þ appears in such words as ‘other,’ ‘that,’ ‘the,’ etc., which look curious written ‘oþer,’ ‘þt,’ ‘þe.’

The þ in some words was printed ‘y,’ which continued in use until the last century. I am not aware of any place-names having been altered by this change of lettering, but it is quite possible that some changes may have occurred through it. It would be easy for a person unaccustomed to the Saxon þ to mistake it for other letters, as ‘th,’ ‘p,’ or ‘y’ must be followed either by a vowel or the consonant ‘r,’ ‘ph’ in old documents being usually replaced by an ‘f.’

Of late years many absurd mistakes have been made by the Ordnance Surveyors in their maps, who, mistaking the local dialect, or from preconceived ideas as to what the names ought to be, have set down many incorrectly. On this subject I wrote formerly in a paper in the Berkshire Archæological Magazine. A man from the South of England fails to comprehend the Northern or Western dialects. Country-folk from the North cannot understand a word spoken by Southerners; this also would account for errors. Spelling, of course, has so much altered that it is no safe guide towards derivation; phonetic pronunciation of a word is more likely to give a clue to the origin. Field-names have been handed down orally from generation to generation; and it is very curious to observe how faithfully the phonetic sounds have been preserved among an illiterate people, long after the meanings of the words have disappeared.

The Saxons named their fields from ordinary things, or surroundings, or the animals who fed in the meadows. The following Saxon words may be found occurring constantly as field-names:

Æcne, fruitful; Æcer, field; Æbesn or Æfesne, pasture; Ata, Atih, tares, or oats—the latter were common.

Birce, birch-tree.

Cyrc, Cyrce, Cyrice, Circ, Circe, church—the last two most common; Culfre, a dove; Cealc, chalk; Ceorl, churl or husbandman.

Ent, a giant; Eorisc, a bulrush; Errich, stubble; Enid or Ened, a duck; Emn, even.

Fearras, Ferris, oxen; Fearh, a little pig; Fearh-Cwæl, swine-fever.

Getreminc, fortress; Gat or Yat, a Goat.

Halga, a saint; halig, holy; Hyd, hide, a land measure; Ham, home, homestead; Hurst, or Hyrst, a wood; Holt, a grove; Hleotan, to cast lots (meadows were held in lots, or allotments, from a very early period, and so continued up to the time of the Enclosure Acts); Hluton, part allotted; Halm, stubble.

Ith Yrnth, arable; Ilt, a sow.

Ley, Lea, Leaze or Lay, Lye, meadow or grassland.

Neolnes, more properly spelt Neowlnes, an abyss.

On-œl, a burning.

Riip, harvest.

Sul, a plough; Stret, or Stræt, a street or public highway.

Wong, a meadow; Welig, a willow; Wegleast, a going out of the way; Wer, an enclosure.

As a whole the English language has changed more during the past century than at any time of the preceding ages. Railway and telegraph have brought all parts of the kingdom into closer contact, and intercourse with foreign countries accounts for constant alterations in language and customs. New words are introduced and old ones die out; it is the same in every language.

CHAPTER IV.
OLD DEEDS.

Among old family papers it is rare to meet with many dating further back than the Reformation; first of all, this may be accounted for by the enormous amount of land possessed by the monks, who, instead of having to search through deeds, entered these grants and gifts of property into their charter-book. The monastic estates, after the Dissolution, were managed through the Augmentation Office; many of the original deeds were destroyed or lost in the general confusion, and a new distribution of the lands took place by the King irrespective of the former owners, whose claims were totally ignored, although in such grants or deeds of gift the name of the monastery formerly owning the property is usually named.

The King must have realized large sums of money by these transactions, which were carried out through, and in the names of, his commissioners or agents, and not usually granted direct from the Crown; very little of the land confiscated from the abbeys was retained as royal property, but appears to have been almost immediately sold or granted away.

But to begin from the oldest reliable period at which deeds may refer to, is to go back to the Norman Conquest, or, rather, to the time when the lands had been distributed among the Norman noblemen, as described in the famous Domesday Book, compiled, it is said, between 1080 and 1085. Reference is therein made to previous Saxon possessors; but only in very few instances can any certain information be obtained of private property prior to the eleventh century.

Private deeds do exist between the time of William I. and Richard I.; from this latter King’s reign, about A.D. 1179, legal memory dates[2]; but usually the earliest family deeds are of Edward I., because then it was that the legal era was fixed to commence. This King has been, so far as regards manorial rights and customs, rightly called the ‘English Solon.’ He passed innumerable Acts of Parliament on the subject of legal matters; he revised the whole of the national laws, retaining but improving existing arrangements. A most interesting account of early English law and manorial customs is published by the Selden Society. It is very rare indeed to discover private deeds earlier than this; but, of course, every rule has its exception.

To prove a title to property it is now only requisite to show a twenty years’ possession of it. Papers forming the title deeds to farms or small holdings are seldom of any great age. The custom of depositing estate records in the care of the family lawyer has tended to preserve a few deeds; but, on the other hand, has resulted in much wholesale destruction of useless but curious documentary evidence.

Vast numbers of deeds have been and are being sold when a lawyer’s office has been broken up. These papers, having lain for years unclaimed until the ownership was lost or forgotten, finally were sold to some antiquarian bookseller or antiquary, or else the skin was cleansed and used again, parchment being a valuable substance. It is employed in many trades. From it size is prepared. Gold-beaters employ it largely, and also to the book-binder’s trade it is essential, besides having many other and varied uses.

Even now lawyers find great difficulty in preserving and storing the deeds entrusted to their charge. The dangers of fire and damp are conflicting, and to avoid the one may bring about greater risk from the other cause.

Parchment being an animal substance (usually made from the skin of sheep), if kept in a damp place, soon begins to decay and become offensive, mites readily attack it, dirt and dust accumulate rapidly on its external woolly surface—all these make a search among hoards of old deeds anything but a pleasant or a cleanly occupation.

The usual storehouse for such collections was some unused garret or stable-loft, where rats and mice ran riot and birds flew in and out as they liked. Forgotten, perhaps, for several generations, the old papers lay untouched till death or removal brought changes, and the deeds were either placed in safer keeping, or else—alas! the most usual course—were consigned to the flames as useless rubbish.

The quality of parchment varies much. That upon which early deeds—those about the thirteenth century—are written, is in small pieces, woolly in texture and of a dark brown shade. In the sixteenth century the sheets are larger, smoother, and yellow, becoming whiter in colour and more even as its preparation was better understood and practised.

Vellum was a finer sort of parchment prepared from the skins of very young or still-born animals. Of it the old manuscript books were made, adorned with illuminations and miniature paintings, which required a fine, smooth surface, and vellum was free from the flaws which frequently occur in the skins of mature animals.

With the history of paper-making we have nothing to do. Paper was known as early as the thirteenth century, but for law work in England it was seldom, if ever, employed before the fourteenth century. The earliest known examples are described as being made of silk manufactured abroad. On the Continent it was used for illuminated work in the place of vellum—at least, so Prou states, but does not tell us of any notable examples.

The history of English-made paper is somewhat obscure. Ordinary lesson-books, published for the enlightenment of the young, state that the first English paper-mill was erected at Dartford, in Kent, by Speilman, a German, in 1588. This, however, must be wrong, for in that popular educator of the past generation, the Saturday Magazine, a short account is given of early paper and its water-marks, and John Tate is named as having a mill at Hertford, his device being a star of five points enclosed within a double circle. John Tate the younger is here stated to have made the paper for the first book printed on English-made paper about the year 1496. It was written in Latin, and entitled ‘Bartholomeus de Proprietatibus Rerum.’ His mark upon it was a wheel. This mill existed for thirty-five years—1460 to 1496. This same account goes on to say that the paper used by the early printers bore great variety of marks: a bull, fifteenth century: the oxhead, with the star between the horns, late fifteenth century; the black letter

; the shears; an open hand, surmounted by a star; a collared dog’s head, with a trefoil above it; a crown, an orb, a shield charged with a bend, and many other devices. Hone, in his ‘Everyday Book,’ also gives a few other marks. He mentions the orb as a foreign paper-mark existing as early as 1301, and says it is the ‘oldest known mark.’

Hand-paper is the kind usually found used for early documents. It was a convenient size for court-rolls or legal writings. The name arose from its water-mark, that of an open hand with a star above the middle finger. This is found both in England and Germany. Its date of manufacture was certainly older than 1450. The actual device varied. Sometimes the fingers were raised in blessing, sometimes it was a hand encased in a glove or gauntlet. The star had sometimes five and at others six points. On the wrist are the maker’s initials.

On some coarse whitish-brown paper of 1465 a garter was used; about the same date a bull or bull’s head appears. This is found on some of Faust’s earliest printed books. These were detached sheets: there was no distinction then between book or letter paper.

A careful study of paper-marks would be interesting and valuable if the authenticity or age of old papers or drawings were doubted, though the question of forgery scarcely ever arises, for so much knowledge and ingenuity would be required to produce a manuscript which would deceive an adept and pass muster as a veritable antique, that fraud of this kind is well-nigh impossible.

Paper was not known in France, and consequently not used, before 1130. It did not reach as far north as Normandy until the fourteenth century; therefore it is improbable that it found its way into England till after this date, or, if so, only in very small quantities. The oldest paper is coarse and rough, scarcely sized at all, so that the ink sank into it like blotting-paper, making erasures impossible.

Supposing even that paper was made in England in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the quantities produced here were very small and inadequate to meet the demand; hence the chief supply was of foreign manufacture even until a comparatively recent period. The tax on English paper may have interfered with its production.

The Netherlands and Germany were the great paper-producing countries. It was a State privilege, and the water-marks used were either the arms of the royal patron or a crest or badge of the manufacturer, so by this means the precise locality of some of these ancient manufacturers may be ascertained. The Dutch paper bore the arms of the country—i.e., the lion rampant, holding the sabre in one paw and the arrows (?) in the other.

The history of old paper-marks sadly needs a Chaffers or a Cripps to investigate the matter. No such collection has ever been attempted, nor has the subject hitherto met with the attention it demands and deserves. Perhaps, now that antiquarianism is becoming so fashionable, this, like other kindred sciences, will find some followers.

In the Antiquary magazine for November and December, 1895, may be seen two articles I wrote on old water-marks of paper. The marks were chiefly collected from the old family papers belonging to the Pulestons of Emral. These papers were, I fear, burnt after the death of my uncle, the late Sir Gresley Puleston, Bart.

As regards paper and paper-making, Mr. S. L. Sotheby published a costly work. There is also a small book written by Mr. Richard Herring in 1863.

Another important part of a deed is the ink with which it was written. Each scribe had his own particular receipt for making it, the principal ingredients being oak-galls and sulphate of iron. Many chemicals are recommended as restoratives for faded ink, but these should be avoided as far as possible, as they are liable to stain and disfigure the parchment, and in the end make matters worse. Familiarity with particular handwritings after some practice will enable the reader to make out otherwise unintelligible words without any other assistant than a powerful magnifying glass.

If the ink is very faint the simplest and most harmless restorative is sulphate of ammonia; but its loathsome smell once endured is not easily forgotten; the experiment in consequence is very seldom repeated, for the result is scarcely good enough to risk a repetition of so horrible a smell, and it is liable to affect the MSS.

Coloured inks or pigments were seldom, if ever, employed for legal documents. The use of these was restricted to the cloister, requiring manipulation by an illuminator instead of a mere scribe. Red, blue, and green were in use; these were mineral colours. The red was composed either of red-lead or oxide of iron, the green from copper, and the blue from lapis lazuli finely powdered, or else it, too, like the green, was prepared from an oxide of copper.

Illuminating was a separate profession apart from that of writing. The charter or missal was finished by the scribe, and then handed over to the artist to be adorned with fanciful capital letters and elaborate scroll-works. Such ornamentation was unnecessary for legal documents, yet sometimes these had fancy headings, which, like the illuminations, were put in after the writing was finished, as is proved by the occasional omission of them, although space is left where they ought to have been filled in.

Seals and sealing-wax deserve a few words. These came into use gradually. The earliest deeds are very small, and have very small insignificant seals. There are some very fine seals in the Record Office Museum (formerly the Rolls Chapel).

It is said that neither the Saxon nor Norman noblemen could sign their own names, but instead employed the Christian sign of the cross (still in use among the illiterate) as their pledge of good faith, and to witness their consent and approval. The use of seals as appendices to deeds was a further proof that the deed itself was approved and executed. A man’s seal or signet was always regarded as his most sacred possession. It was destroyed after death to avoid its being used for fraudulent purposes.

The use of signet-rings is very ancient. Many old Roman and Saxon signet-rings have been dug up from time to time in various parts of England. Small private seals bearing devices appear to have been attached to deeds of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.

Many of the large wax seals are very beautiful, but few, alas! in private collections of deeds exist in any state of perfection. The wax used for them was either its natural colour or else a sealing-wax of a very dark green, also black, or red; white, also, was used, now discoloured by age into a dingy yellow. Besides the royal seals, each abbey had its own particular seal, bearing either a view of the abbey, a portrait of its patron saint, or its badge or shield. Many of these are described by Dugdale in the ‘Monasticon,’ but he was unable to discover the devices pertaining to the lesser houses or cells. The fashion for large seals died out, till at last only royal grants or similar documents of the sixteenth century have them attached. In the Georgian period we find small private seals placed on the margins of deeds. These were not always the arms and crest of the person against whose signature they appear—perhaps belonged to the lawyer or one of the contracting parties. Here it is that a knowledge of heraldry is extremely useful.

The size and shape of a deed at first glance goes far with the experienced reader to determine its age, even before a single word of it has been read; likewise the general aspect will give a slight hint as to the possible contents without deciphering any of it.

The deeds relative to the earliest grants of land are very small in size, a marked contrast to the voluminous sheets of parchment considered necessary to a modern conveyance or deed. The writing often was minute, but each letter was carefully formed. Many early deeds are in far better preservation than some of those written several centuries later, when less attention was paid to the materials on which they were indited, or the ink used.

CHAPTER V.
LAW TECHNICALITIES.

The two chief divisions into which all law deeds may be roughly classified are the deed-pole and the indenture. The former is a square piece of parchment, made by one person, such as a will or a bond, the indenture being the work of several parties. Of this latter kind are deeds of trusteeship, marriage settlements, mortgages, and sales or transfers of land.

The indenture was so called from the fact that its upper edge was vandyked, or indented—a very secure but primitive method of testing authenticity; each party had a copy. These duplicates were written on a single strip of parchment merely cut asunder afterwards, through a word written between the two copies, such as ‘chirographum,’ so that when required to be produced as evidence the two divided portions and words would fit each other exactly—indisputable evidence of their originality, both simple and ingenious.

A very common form of deed, met with among title-deeds, is the ‘Fine,’ technically so-called from its opening sentence: ‘Hic est finalis concordia facta in curia Domini Regis’; the Sovereign’s name follows with the year of accession, after which are the names of the buyer and seller of the property, a full description of the amount of acreage, tenements, etc. After warranting the whole for life to its purchaser, the deed concludes with the sum of money paid for the property; this is written in words, not figures. These deeds are more puzzling to amateurs than any other. The ‘Fines’ are narrow strips of parchment, two in number; they are closely covered with black lettering, making them at first difficult to decipher.

This transfer of land by ‘fine’ originated at first from an actual suit at law commenced to recover possession of the lands, and by this means to establish a clear indisputable title to it; in course of time the suit was discontinued, but the form of wording was retained by custom.

‘A “fine,”’ says Blackstone, ‘is so called because it puts an end to the suit (from the Latin word finis, an end), which, when once decided, puts an end not only to that suit, but also to all other controversies concerning the same matter, for by this means an absolute sale was effected, and all previous claims upon the property were made void.’

Sale by fine is of very ancient date. Instances of it are said to be known prior to the Norman invasion. We may, therefore, conclude that it was probably an old Saxon custom, or was devised in later times as a certain means to avoid dispute and disagreement arising from an imperfect title of possession.

There are several legal varieties of ‘fines,’ but these are of little consequence to the antiquary, whose interest lies only in the names, dates, and localities mentioned, and, so long as the land changed its ownership, cares little about the technical process by which the transfer was made.

Another way of making a good title so as to legalize and effect a complete sale of property was that known as ‘Sale by Recovery.’ This also consisted of a law-suit, at first real, then imaginary.

FORM OF FINE

The prescribed form was very complicated. Explanations of it are to be found in most books on law subjects, but the matter lies in a nutshell. One man desired to sell certain land which another man was anxious to purchase, whereupon the would-be purchaser issued a writ, in which he pretended to claim the land. At this stage of the affair a third party, not really concerned in any way in it, was brought forward to warrant the title of the real owner, who then came forward bringing a witness proving ownership to his property; thus an undisputable title to the land was established. A deed of recovery was then issued rehearsing the whole transaction, agreeing that a certain sum of money, equivalent to the value of the land, should be paid by the purchaser; and here the bargain was concluded, and the curtain fell on the legal farce.

Some of these recovery deeds are quite works of art. They are written in courthand on large squares of parchment, smooth and white. The heading and capital letter are ornamented with scroll-work in pen and ink. Generally an engraved portrait of the reigning Sovereign was added. Part of this ornamentation was done by hand, and the rest completed with steel engraving. The most elaborate deeds are those of the Stuart monarchs, especially towards the end of the seventeenth century, but after the time of the second George these well-executed deeds disappear.

The oldest statute relating to Recoveries of which I find any mention is of the commencement of the reign of Henry VII., but I have not met with any as early in date as this.

A beginner finds much difficulty in deciding between deeds of sale or appointment of trustees for the safe custody of land to secure marriage portions and deeds of mortgage. All these three deeds are, in point of size and general outline, nearly identical; the experienced lawyer can detect them at once; he needs only to study what is called the operative part of the document, avoiding any waste of time which wading through the technical phrases involves.

One of the commonest forms of deeds met with relative to the sale of land is that known as ‘Lease and Release,’ a method invented by Serjeant Moore in the reign of Henry VIII., which, from its simplicity, speedily became very popular, and superseded the other forms of sale.

The principal deeds referring to a Lease and Release are two in number. The smaller of these is generally found wrapped up within the larger parchment, as the two had to be kept together, being in reality part and parcel of each other. The smaller parchment was the lease drawn up between the parties; by it a formal lease for a year of the premises or land was granted by the owner to the purchaser, but no mention of any rent or sum of money is made in it, and herein is the difference between the sale-lease and an ordinary lease, for in this latter both the term of years and the yearly rental are expressly named.

The ‘Release,’ or larger parchment, is dated a day following the lease which it cancels, hereby gaining its name of ‘release.’ It is in reality the actual deed of sale, for the price paid for the land will be found in it, and a full and complete warranty securing it for ever to the purchaser.

An ordinary lease of premises is worded similarly to the above, but differs from it in several ways; usually it is a larger sheet of parchment. The term of years varies from three, five, seven, to twenty-one, at a fixed rent paid either half-yearly or quarterly at the four principal feasts, Lady Day, or the Feast of the Annunciation, the Feast of St. John, or Midsummer, St. Michael and All Angels, better known as Michaelmas, and the Feast of the Nativity, popularly called Christmas Day. These deeds commence with the date of the day, month and year, followed by the names of the persons contracting the agreement, with those of their co-trustees, or witnesses, usually selected from among relatives or connections by marriage, or else immediate neighbours. An exact terrier of the land is given, its locality, field-names, and acreage. Three parts of the way down the sheet of parchment will be found the rent and term of years for which the land is granted, together with stipulations as to repairs, rights of ingress and egress; any services, customs or heriots, whether due in kind or by payment; last of all comes the warrant against intruders. Of course, with deeds of sale there are other legal documentary forms, with variations of wording, but the two last above described are those generally met with.

The oldest form of sale is called a ‘feoffment,’ or grant. Externally it differs little in appearance from a ‘fine,’ at least as regards its earliest form, both being very small, closely-written deeds; the first was in the set lawyer type of handwriting, while a ‘fine’ was indited in courthand.

A ‘feoffment,’ or grant, was the oldest and simplest form of document; but in later times it was followed by a deed ‘of Uses,’ which required many other deeds to follow in its wake before a permanent and satisfactory sale was effected.

It is all these legal formalities which make the reading of old deeds so unnecessarily confusing; their intricacies can only be mastered by careful study of books on legal matters, and a comparison of the several kinds of deeds above enumerated. A mortgage deed differs from the sales or leases in several particulars: firstly, the term of years granted is usually absurdly long—nine hundred or a thousand years, perhaps; while in lieu of money the nominal rent of one peppercorn yearly, or some equally insignificant equivalent, was demanded. In place of the rent in an ordinary lease the real reason of the mortgage is given in full, with the date and appointed place where and when the borrowed money is to be repaid. Often the vicarage, or the parson’s house, was chosen—perhaps considered as an additional guard against fraud, and that the clergyman as a witness, being a disinterested party, would see justice done on both sides. No mortgage deeds are old; the older ones, if they existed, were probably destroyed as soon as the transaction was finished. Most of those found among family papers are of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and refer to small pieces of land or cottages, showing that even then the small owners became involved in debts and difficulties, being obliged to raise money upon their holdings, until finally the land itself had to be sold to satisfy the demands of the creditors, the purchaser usually being the nearest large landed proprietor, who paid a better price for what would join on to and complete the area of his estate. These small holdings had probably been accumulated bit by bit out of the waste. First, perhaps, the settler rigged up a primitive dwelling, or hut, the old tradition being that if a roofed dwelling with a chimney could be erected in one night a claim to the land was thereby established. If undisturbed, the squatter would gradually extend his boundaries; but a small rent was generally demanded by the lord of the manor as an acknowledgment of the encroachment; these little holdings are called ‘key-holdings,’ and are to be found in all parts of England.

At present there is a growing desire to increase the number of small proprietors; ‘fashion,’ it is said, ‘repeats itself periodically.’ Former experience showed the result of small holders to be a failure; no land, however small in acreage, can be worked without capital; a succession of bad seasons causes immediate loss and continuous outlay without a compensating return; debts once begun are apt to accumulate; all trades are worked cheaper on a wholesale scale. Bit by bit, as failure comes, the small pieces of land will roll up into large properties again, like balls of quicksilver separated only for awhile.

Many of the deeds of mortgage are sad and silent witnesses of the gradual decay and downfall of old families. The squire raised money to pay off trusts, legacies, and dowers. He pledged his mansion; and in the inventory of his household effects we can study many queer facts. Our ancestors’ homes were scantily furnished; such lists surprise us, for they show what a very small amount of furniture was formerly considered necessary to render a house habitable.

Among family papers there is often another class of deeds altogether: one is a small square piece of parchment, with a huge seal attached; this is often enclosed in a rough tin case or box. These are advowson deeds, or presentation of Church preferment. The gifts of many Church livings are in private hands. It was originally an hereditary property, and there are cases of it of very great antiquity; but private family deeds referring to church property are seldom found earlier than the Jacobean period, and very seldom as old as that.

The earliest presentations or appointments to parochial duty were no doubt purely ecclesiastical, but with the Norman accession the secular and ecclesiastical affairs merged into closer proximity; it was considered a religious privilege to rebuild or erect a church. This the lord of the manor generally undertook, perhaps originally as a private chapel or chantry. The appointment of an officiating priest became an ecclesiastical matter, being often granted to the monasteries by the patrons. To avoid the encroachment of lay interference, Thomas à Beckett was the first to order that no clergyman should be instituted to a living without a bishop’s approval and permission; but there were often disputes on this subject. Few neighbourhoods existed without a monastery somewhere in the locality, and from the nearest religious house a candidate was probably selected; finally, the right of presentation was claimed by the monastery, with whom it may have, by custom or by deed of gift, previously rested. Some education and a knowledge of Latin was essential for a priest, and education was almost entirely confined to the monks or their pupils. Thomas à Beckett, as Archbishop, issued his mandate on the subject of parochial presentations as a means of retaining such institutions in episcopal hands, and so avoiding any appeals to the Pope which might be made by his legates or the abbots. With the monasteries the chantries also passed away, soon being forgotten; numberless small unbeneficed chapels were then allowed to fall into ruins, the sites even of these now having been lost.

Deeds recounting the appointment of chantry priests are rare, and always possess some points of interest; often chantry priests were appointed by bequest, and sums of money left for their maintenance. These appear, however, to have been entirely distinct from the parish priest, although perhaps the office may eventually have merged into one and the same.

There seems from earliest times to have existed a jealousy between Cathedral bodies and the monks; but as the monastic orders waxed more and more wealthy and influential, we lose sight of the contention, and on all questions of early Church history there yet needs an impartial writer to decide many matters which at present are still uncertain, and are viewed by different writers according to their own particular religious bias, whether Anglican or Roman; hence as history they are too prejudiced to be entirely relied upon.

SHERIFF’S ROLL (NEVILLE MSS.).

(See page [66].)

A sheriff formerly was the most important personage in his county, being the ambassador or representative of the Sovereign. He was appointed directly by the Crown; even at the present day the names of three county gentlemen are written down and supposed to be presented to the King, who pricks the name of the man chosen to be sheriff; but really the names follow in sequence, each out-going sheriff adding a fresh name to the list previous to his own being erased as having served his turn.

The formal deed of appointment as sheriff was a narrow parchment strip, with a fine seal attached to it; his discharge from office was a very unimportant-looking document.

The sheriff’s roll was the yearly bill of expenses incurred in the King’s name by his sheriff or representative; as a rule they are not very interesting, although here and there the names of men appointed to local offices may appear, facts which might interest the local historian; but he would have to wade through the contents of many rolls before he extracted any information worth his attention, and much time would have to be expended over such a search. These rolls are long broad strips of parchment stitched together; the upper edge is sometimes cut square, and at others cut into a point or peak.

The wording runs as follows:

‘In Magno Rotulo de anno ... Regis ... in Comitatu——’

A list of the sheriffs of England (Henry I. to fourth year of Edward III.) is to be found in the thirty-first report, page 262, of the Deputy Keeper of the Public Records. A list of sheriffs is published (Public Record Office: Lists and Indices, No. IX.). In some counties sheriff-lists with additional genealogies and notes have been compiled, giving a very good county history of the oldest families of the shire.

A royal pardon was a deed-poll with a beautiful seal attached to it. It commenced with the Sovereign’s name. The writing was exact and well executed. The deed was divided into clauses or sections, the commencing word of each being written in very clear black letters. After the word ‘Sciatis’ comes the royal license and the name of its recipient, who is forgiven ‘all rebellion and insurrection against the Crown, all homicide, felony, robbery or participation with such,’ and the pardoned subject is permitted to retain his possessions: the word ‘Perdonamus’ coming about the centre of the document. Unfortunately no information is given in the charter in any way as to the particular cause for pardon being granted or the offence committed. This can only be guessed at by the help of English history, and a probable reason be assigned from among the many disputed accessions, civil wars, religious controversies of bygone centuries, all probable sources of high treason against the Crown.

Few old families were exempt from charges of treason if they chanced to take any part in public affairs or were known to have been stanch adherents to prohibited religion.

A bond is a small paper or parchment—on one side written in English, on the other in Latin—the promise to repay or pay money due; generally the bond is in Latin, and the conditions of it written in English. Bonds were made out on the sale of property, or for mortgages or legacies; they occur in numbers among family papers.

If the deed does not begin with the King’s name in whose reign it was made, the year of the reign will be found at the end. It must be remembered that Henry VI. and Charles II. are both puzzling, owing to civil wars, and both reckoned from the date of the death of the previous Sovereign. Henry VI. is reckoned from 1422, and includes the whole period till his death—forty-nine and a half years—of which only thirty-eight and a half years he actually was King. Charles II. is reckoned from the year 1649.

These are the principal kinds of deeds met with among family papers, being the commonest legal forms. If others are found of an unusual character they should be put aside for closer investigation when practice has given greater experience, or be submitted to an expert for examination.

CHAPTER VI.
MANOR AND COURT ROLLS.

The oldest account of an estate is to be obtained, not from deeds of purchase and mortgage, but from its own private records, called court rolls, a most curious class of documents, puzzling to the antiquary because they contain local words obsolete and not recognisable through derivation. Manor rolls are a study in themselves, a subject hitherto overlooked. They give us an insight into the most primitive form of local government, showing the manner in which lawlessness and disregard of laws were kept under before a regular magisterial jurisdiction came into existence. The local manor court occupied the position and did the work now undertaken by the magistrates, County Court judges, and County Councils. When complaints are raised as to an excessive imposition of fines for trivial misdemeanours by any of these modern means of justice, I would advise the complainants to study some old court rolls, wherein may be read the fines imposed for offences no longer punishable. The villager was fined if he kept dogs or pigeons, for trespass in the woods, stealing brushwood, for illegal fishing, for fighting, for allowing animals to stray and become impounded. Nor, unless he was a freedman, was he allowed to marry or give in marriage without his lord’s permission. All this sounds very arbitrary and severe; in reality it probably was not so. The bond between landlord and tenant must have been a very close one. They were drawn into near connection one with another; the well-being of one meant the welfare of the other. Nor was the meting forth of justice left solely in the hands of the lord of the manor, but rather to the twelve jurymen who formed the court itself. Certainly this self-government opened a means for unfair influence and revenge of petty quarrels. This was guarded against as far as possible. A very common item brought before the court was the accusation of wrongful information laid by a man against his neighbour in direct opposition to the ninth commandment.

There were two sections of manor courts—the Court Leet and the Court Baron. The former dealt with offences committed by the tenantry, and contained much that is entertaining and curious; the other was occupied with the tenants and their holdings, of which they had every year to give account to the lord of the manor. Upon the death of a tenant, or the expiration of the lease, new presentments were made to the landlord for admission to the premises, or a fresh life added to the lease from time to time. In these rolls we find notices of heriots and other old services due from the tenants of certain lands; indeed, these old customs are not yet wholly extinct, though they have frequently fallen into abeyance. On some estates heriots are still due, but, as a rule, have for many generations been compounded for by a money payment, just in the same way that feudal service passed into small sums of money and finally died out, or eventually took the form of money rent.

On many farms it was part of the rent to give the landlord yearly, geese or cheese. In a small farm of ours in Cheshire the tenant had to give a cheese yearly, cart coals, keep a dog and a fighting-cock for his landlord.

The manorial history of England would carry us back very far did we attempt to trace it to its earliest beginnings. Perhaps the very first step towards it was the settlement of the Saxon tribes, who, in appropriating and distributing the land, laid the foundation of hereditary ownership. There is no rule or limit as to how many manors there might be in each parish. Clearly the parish was the older division of the two; nor can the creation of a manor be dated in any way, for many of the old manors were subsequently split up into two or more lesser ones. The affixes or manorial names are known to have, in some instances, varied with the family who held the land. Almost without exception these manorial names were directly derived from the possessors. Few are older than the Norman period, perhaps having supplanted those in existence previously. Where double parochial names are used, the first is usually Saxon, the affix being a Norman addition, showing the fusion of the two races, which, though living in close proximity, were yet totally distinct from each other.

During the Middle Ages manors were further subdivided, easily to be accounted for in this way: The owner of a manor was at first start the tenant of some wealthy and powerful nobleman, who, owning vast tracts of land, sublet it out in manors, which were after some generations bought outright, or looked upon almost as freehold. The tenant was the resident squire of the place, living on the land, and farming it with the assistance of his children and dependents. After a time the family grew up, the sons married and needed homes of their own. In those days no one moved far away from the birthplace. What was more natural than that the squire should provide homes for his children close around the old manor-house, and, dividing off the property by the manorial boundaries, give to each a portion for self-maintenance? This accounts for the large, old-fashioned farmhouses to be found in most country parishes. The history of each farm, if investigated, will furnish a curious proof of the conservatism with which certain boundaries were preserved, and the manors regarded as sections seldom subdivided except into recognised lesser manors.

Society was very primitive two or three hundred years ago. It was then possible to live comfortably and make a living out of the land. No foreign grain was imported to affect the prices of corn in country places. Competition was unknown, and the people led a quiet, uneventful existence, following in the footsteps of their forefathers. Gradually changes have come about. The old race of yeomen has died out; the few that are left make us forcibly regret that this should be the case.

The yeoman was a man of good education and long pedigree; he belonged to the largest section of English society, called ‘middle class.’ Agriculture was his profession; he seldom left home, consequently had few opportunities of spending money; the character and personal history of every human being on the place was intimately known to him, for the villagers lived and died in their native villages. The roads were bad, therefore traffic from place to place was restricted to what was absolutely necessary. Posts and passenger coaches were rarities, and when first started met with little patronage from the majority of the people.

To return to the manorial courts. These were held but once during the year. It was the annual audit of the freemen on the estate, the ‘Visus franciplegii,’ as the opening words of the court roll states.

Quarter sessions were held four times in the year, while the sheriff’s tourn took place half-yearly. These inquired into matters of public interest and public expense, whereas the manor court dealt with trivial matters pertaining to the manor itself. The sheriff’s tourn and the manorial court were almost identical in object; the first was the representative of the Crown dispensing justice to the King’s subjects; in a lesser radius and degree the lord of the manor had a similar office to fulfil.

COURT ROLL.

(See page [75].)

Manors were ruled by custom, and customs varied in different places. The general aspect of a court roll will always be found to be identical. The older rolls are in Latin, but, like the deeds, the later ones are written in English. The earliest ones are literally ‘rolls’ closely written on parchment in the handwriting called by the French ‘minuscule.’

Every court roll has at its commencement the name of the manor written either above or on the margin. The opening words read thus: ‘Visus franciplegii cum curia.’ After this is the name of the lord of the manor, the date of the day and month, followed by the King’s name and the number of years since he ascended the throne.

Esson., on the margin, is the abbreviation for essonium, an excuse—namely, the jurymen who pleaded absence from the court. Following this are the names of the twelve jurymen present, and then the work begins.

In the older rolls the presentment of offences are the principal items; latterly only the tenants and their leases employed the attention of the court at its annual sitting.

The first thing to consider was usually the assize—licensing, so to speak, of bread and ale. By this means fraud and adulteration were held in check. The right of brewing ale was a privilege not to be infringed without penalty; the fine imposed was at the rate of 1d. for each illegal brewing; the offenders are generally women.

Any damage to crops or fences, highways needing repair, quarrels ending in bloodshed, neglect by which animals were permitted to stray and become seized by the hayward or pinder—all such offences are found chronicled in the court roll. Last of all is the sum total received in fines, signed by the names of the two officers appointed to superintend the assize.

A court roll is always written throughout in one handwriting, without any private marks or signatures. From the writing, they are generally the work of a professional scribe or clerk who must have had a regular education—first as a Latin scholar, secondly as an accountant, and thirdly probably learnt to write before he learnt Latin. Mistakes or erasures are seldom to be detected; therefore the rolls must have been carefully copied at leisure from rough notes made at the time; moreover, the spelling of the surnames is fairly constant, which would not be if written from dictation.

Up to the Reformation period the court rolls were cherished as being valuable records, providing standards for future reference; hence we find, until then, a fairly perfect sequence of these yearly rolls, after which a break occurs, and only a casual roll here and there is preserved. No guide to court rolls would be complete unless the oldest form of the Arabic numerals is given and explained.

xiith century. xiiith century. xivth century. xvth century.

The Roman numerals are the oldest method of writing figures in Europe, but gradually the so-called Arabic figures (really of Indian origin) were introduced, superseding the former style. To Gerbert, otherwise known as Pope Silvester II. (he died in 1003), is attributed their introduction from the East to the West; anyway, from the twelfth century, the Arabic numerals rapidly came into use. The 0 was not invented before the twelfth century. A curious resemblance is traceable between the figures of the alternate centuries. Our present style of figures has grown out of the older ones, but is bolder in outline and curve. The figure 5 has passed through most variation, while 6, 8 and 9 have scarcely altered at all.

It must be remembered that before 1752 the Old Style was still used in England. The year therefore commenced on March 25th instead of, as it does at present, on January 1st. When the calendar was corrected in 1752 eleven days were omitted, and September 2nd was followed by September 14th. The people bewailed it, and contemporary skits are numerous, echoing the popular cry of ‘Give us back our lost eleven days.’ On the Continent the alteration had taken place long before. In some English parish church registers we find confusion as to the actual year date to be used for the months between Christmas and Lady Day. This uncertainty may be observed before 1750. In many country places the old style was maintained long after the year 1752.

I have a very curious old calendar of 1483; in it the saints’ days are veritable red-letter days. Many of the saints named are unknown to us either by name or legend, but in court rolls only the principal saints’ days are mentioned as those on which the court sat.

Some months seem to have been more favoured with saints’ days than others. The following list, though by no means complete, gives the chief English saints:

The saints’ days were brought before the people in many ways—in the village feasts, or the dedication of churches, in the mural paintings which covered the church walls, and in the Christian names given at baptism. In the old rolls the date of the month is never mentioned, the principal feast-day nearest to it being used instead.

Saints’ days, as holidays, were probably the most convenient days for assembling together for business.

CHAPTER VII.
MONASTIC CHARTERS.

Every abbey of any importance kept a chartulary—in other words, a catalogue of its possessions in the copies of grants of land all collected within one or more volumes—a carefully compiled work, giving all the benefactions and privileges of the foundation, entered by the scribe or secretary of the establishment, who must have spent many hours of his life over the work, for these books are rarely found to be the work of more than one, or at most two, men—one handwriting continuing on until replaced by another. Great care and neatness was used in the formation of each black letter—even and perfect as the most exact printing ever done by machinery. Each charter was emphasized with an elaborate capital letter, and the index or headings to them were filled in after the writing was finished, as is proved by the fact that these were sometimes never completed. The probability is that they were the work of another artist or illuminator, and appear to have been sketched in with a brush or hair pencil, the writing having been executed with a quill pen. Colour is sometimes employed to embellish and ornament the work, but in the oldest chartularies colour, usually red, is only used to mark special passages, or, as in Domesday Book, to point out names of persons or places. The largest work on English monasteries was compiled by Sir William Dugdale; but in so extensive a work as the ‘Monasticon’ too much was undertaken; it was impossible to search deeply enough into existing records for information concerning every religious house throughout England. Therefore, although a valuable foundation to start with, much more may still be ascertained from manuscripts, public and private, particularly with regard to the lesser religious houses or cells to foreign abbeys.