But with the towns the case is different. There, except for the

minimum of population, we are quite at sea. We may presume that the

houses numbered are only the houses paying tax, or at least we may

presume this in some cases, but already the local customs of each town

were so highly differentiated that it is quite impossible to say with

certitude what the figures may mean. It is usual to take the taxable

value of the place to the Crown and to establish a comparison on that

basis, but it is perhaps wiser, though almost as inconclusive, to

consider each case, and all the elements of it separately, and to

attempt, by a co-ordination of the different factors given to arrive

at some sort of scale.

Judged in this manner, Wallingford and Oxford are the early towns of

the Thames Valley which afford the best subjects for survey.

Wallingford in Domesday counted, closes and cottages together, just

under 500 units of habitation. It is, of course, a matter of

conjecture how much population this would stand for. A minimum is

here, as elsewhere, easily established. We may presuppose that a

close, even of the largest kind, was but a private one; we may next

average the inhabitants of each house at five, which is about the

average of modern times, and so arrive at a population of 2500. But

this minimum of 2500 for the population of Wallingford at the time of

the Conquest is too artificial and too full of modern bias to be

received. Not even the strongest prejudice in favour of underrating

the wealth and population of early England, a prejudice which has for

it objects the emphasising of our modern perfection, would admit so

ludicrous a conclusion. But while we may be perfectly certain that the

population of Wallingford was far larger than this minimum, to obtain

a maximum is not so easy. We do not know, with absolute certainty,

whether the whole of the town has been enumerated in the Survey,

though we have a better ground for supposing it in this case than in

most others. Such numerous details are given of holdings which, though

situated in the town, counted in the property of local manors that we

are fairly safe in saying that we have here a more than commonly

complete survey. The very cottages are mentioned, as, for example,

"twenty-two cottages outside the wall," and their condition is

described in terms which, though not easy for us to understand,

clearly signify that they could be taken as paying the full tax.

The real elements of uncertainty lie, first in the number of people

normally inhabiting one house at that time, and secondly, in the exact

meaning of the word "haga" or "close."

As to the first point, we may take it that one household of five would

be the least, ten would be the most, to be present under the roof of

an isolated family; but we must remember that the Middle Ages

contained in their social system a conception of community which not

only appeared (and is still remembered) in connection with monastic

institutions, but which inspired the whole of military and civil life.

To put it briefly, a man at the time of the Conquest, and for

centuries later, would rather have lived as part of a community than

as an individual householder, and conversely, those indices of

importance and social position which we now estimate in furniture and

other forms of ostentation were then to be found in the number of

dependants surrounding the head of the house. A merchant, for example,

if he flourished, was the head of a very numerous community; every

parish church in a town represented a society of priests and of their

servants, and of course a garrison (such as Wallingford pre-eminently

possessed) meant a very large community indeed. We are usually safe,

at any rate in the towns, if we multiply the known number of tenements

by ten in order to arrive at the number of souls inhabiting the

borough. To give the Wallingford of the Conquest a minimum of 5000, if

we were certain that 500 (or, to speak exactly, 491) was the number of

single units of taxation within the borough, would be to set that

minimum quite low enough.

The second difficulty is that of establishing the meaning of the word

"haga." In some cases it may represent one single large establishment.

But on the other hand we can point to six which between them covered a

whole acre, and no one with the least acquaintance of mediæval

municipal topography, no one, for instance, who knows the history of

twelfth-century Paris, would allow one-sixth of an acre to a single

average house within the walls of a town. A close would have one or

more wells, it is true; some closes certainly would have gardens, but

the labour of fortification, and the privilege of market, were each of

them causes which forbade any great extension of open spaces, save in

the case of privileged or wealthy communities or individuals.

From what we know of closes elsewhere, it is more probable that these

at Wallingford were the "cells" as it were of the borough organism. A

man would be granted in the first growth of the town a unit of land

with definitely established boundaries, which he would probably

enclose (the word "haga" refers to such an enclosure), and though at

first there might be only one house upon it, it would be to his

interest to multiply the tenements within this unit, which unit

rendered a regular, customary and unchanging due to its various

superiors, whatever the number of inhabitants it grew to contain.

If we turn to a comparison based upon taxation we have equal

difficulties, though difficulties of a different sort. We saw in the

case of Old Windsor that a community of perhaps 1000, probably of

more, but at any rate something more like a large village than a town

(and one moreover not rated as a town), paid in dues the equivalent of

thirty loads of wheat. Wallingford paid the equivalent of only twenty

or twenty-two. But on the other hand the total Farm of the Borough,

the globular price at which the taxes could be reckoned upon to yield

a profit, was equivalent to no less than 400 such loads.

Judged by the number of hagæ we should have a Wallingford about five

times the size of Old Windsor. Judged by the taxable capacity we

should have an Old Wallingford of more than ten times the size of Old

Windsor.

Here again a further element of complexity enters. It was quite out of

the spirit of the Middle Ages to estimate dues, whether to a feudal

superior or to the National Government, or even minor payments made to

a true proprietorial owner at the full capacity of the economic unit

concerned. All such payment was customary. Even where, in the later

Middle Ages, a man indubitably owned (in our modern sense of the word

"owned") a piece of freehold land, and let it (in our modern sense of

the word "let"), it would not have occurred to him or his tenant that

the very highest price obtainable for the productive capacity of the

land should be paid. The philosophy permeating the whole of society

compelled the owner and the tenant, even in this extreme case, to a

customary arrangement; for it was an arrangement intended to be

permanent, to allow for wide fluctuations of value, and therefore to

be necessarily a minimum. If this was the case in the later Middle

Ages where undoubted proprietary right was concerned, still more was

it the case in the early Middle Ages with the customary feudal dues;

these varied infinitely from place to place, rising in scale from

those of privileged communities wholly exempt to those of places such

as we believe Old Windsor to have been, which paid (and these were the

exceptions), not indeed every penny that they could pay (as they would

now have to pay a modern landlord), but half, or perhaps more than

half, such a rent.

Where Wallingford stood in this scale it is quite impossible to say,

and we can only conclude with the very general statement that the

Wallingford of the Conquest consisted of certainly more than 5000

souls, more probably of 10,000, and quite possibly of more than

10,000.

Having taken Wallingford with its minute and valuable record as a sort

of unit, we can roughly compare it with other centres of populations

upon the river at the same date.

Old Windsor we have already dealt with, and made it out from a fifth

to a tenth of Wallingford. Reading was apparently far smaller. Indeed

Reading is one of the puzzles of the early history of the Thames

Valley. We have already seen in discussing these strategical points

upon the river what advantages it had, and yet it appears only

sporadically in ancient history as a military post. The Danes hold it

on the first occasion on which we find the site recorded, in the

latter half of the ninth century: it has a castle during the anarchy

of the twelfth, but it is a castle which soon disappears. It

frequently plays a part in the Civil Wars of the seventeenth, but the

part it plays is only temporary.

And Reading presents a similar puzzle on the civilian side. It is

situated at the junction of two waterways, one of which leads directly

from the Thames Valley to the West of England, yet it does not seem to

have been of a considerable civil importance until the establishment

of its monastery; and even then it is not a town of first-class size

or wealth, nor does it take up its present position until quite late

in the history of the country.

At the time of the Domesday Survey it actually counts, in the number

of recorded enclosures at least, for less than a third of Old Windsor;

and we may take it, after making every allowance for possible

omissions or for some local custom which withdrew it from the taxing

power of the Crown, for little more than a village at that moment.

The size of Oxford at the same period we have already touched upon,

but since, like every other inference founded upon Domesday, the

matter has become a subject of pretty violent discussion, it will

bear, perhaps, a repeated and more detailed examination at this place.

Let us first remember that the latest prejudice from which our

historical school has suffered, and one which still clings to its more

orthodox section, was to belittle as far as possible the general

influence of European civilisation upon England; to exalt, for

example, the Celtic missionaries and their work at the expense of St

Augustine, to grope for shadowy political origins among the pirates of

the North Sea, to trace every possible etymology to a barbaric root,

and to make of Roman England and of early Medieval England--that is,

of the two Englands which were most fully in touch with the general

life of Europe--as small a thing as might be.

In the light of this prejudice, which is the more bitter because it is

closely connected with religion and with the bitter theological

passions of our universities, we are always safe in taking the larger

as against the smaller modern estimates of wealth, of population and

of influence, where either of these civilisations is concerned, and,

conversely, we are always safe in taking at the lowest modern estimate

the numbers and effect of the barbaric element in our history.

To return to the ground we have already briefly covered, and to

establish a comparison with Wallingford, the word "haga," which we saw

to be of such doubtful value in the case of Wallingford, is replaced

in Oxford by the word "mansio." The taxable units so enumerated are

just over 600, but of these much more than half are set down as

untaxable or imperfectly taxable under the epithets "Uasta," "Uastæ."

What that epithet means we do not know. It may mean anything between

"out of repair," "excused from taxation because they do not come up to

our new standard of the way in which a house in a borough should be

kept up, and because we want to give them time to put themselves in

order," down to the popular acceptation of the word as meaning

"ruined," or even "destroyed."

We know that at the close of the eleventh century, or indeed at any

time before the thirteenth, the small man who lived under his own roof

would live in a very low house, and that, space for space of ground

area, the cubical contents of these poor dwellings would be less than

those of modern slums. On the other hand, we know that the population

would live much more in the open air, slept much more huddled, and

also that a very considerable proportion--what proportion we cannot

say, but probably quite half of a Norman borough--was connected with

the huge communal institutions--military, ecclesiastical, and for that

matter mercantile, as well--which marked the period. We know that the

occupied space stood for very much what is now enclosed by the line of

the old walls, and we know that under modern conditions this space, in

spite of our great empty public buildings, our sparsely inhabited

wealthy houses, and our college gardens, can comfortably hold some

5000 people. We can say, therefore, at a guess, but only at a guess,

that the Oxford of the Conquest must have had some 3000 people in it

at the very least, and can hardly have had 10,000 at the most. These

are wide limits, but anyone who shall pretend to make them narrower is

imposing upon his readers with an appearance of positive knowledge

which is the charlatanism of the colleges, and pretends to exact

knowledge where he possesses nothing but the vague basis of

antiquarian conjecture.

It is sufficiently clear (and the reading of any of our most positive

modern authorities upon Domesday will make it clearer) that no sort of

statistical exactitude can be arrived at for the population of the

boroughs in the early Middle Ages. But when we consider that Reading

is certainly underestimated, and when we consider the detail in which

we are informed of Old Windsor, Wallingford, and Oxford, with the

neglect of Abingdon, Lechlade, Cricklade, and Dorchester, one can

roughly say that the Thames above London possessed in Staines,

Windsor, Cookham, probably Henley, perhaps Bensington, Dorchester,

Eynsham, and possibly Buscot, large villages varying from some

hundreds in population to a little over 1000, not defended, not

reckoned as towns, and agricultural in character. To these we may add

Chertsey, Ealing, and a few others whose proximity to London makes it

difficult for us to judge except in the vaguest way their true

importance.

In another category, possessing a different type of communal life,

already thinking of themselves as towns, we should have Cricklade,

Lechlade, Abingdon, and Kingston among the smaller, though probably

possessing a population not much larger than that of the larger

villages; while of considerable centres there were but three: Reading

the smallest, almost a town, but one upon which we have no true or

sufficient data; Wallingford the largest, with the population of a

flourishing county town in our own days, and Oxford, a place which,

though in worse repair, ran Wallingford close.

Henley affords an interesting study. At the time of the Conquest,

Bensington was no longer, Henley not yet, a borough. To trace the

growth of Henley is especially engrossing, because it is one of the

very rare examples of a process which earlier generations of

historians, and notably the popular historians like Freeman and the

Rev. Mr Green, took to be a common feature in the story of this

island. They were wrong, of course, and they have been widely and

deservedly ridiculed for imagining that the greater part of our

English boroughs grew up since the barbarian invasions upon waste

places. On the contrary most of our towns grew up upon Roman and

pre-Roman foundations, and are continuous with the pre-historic past.

But Henley forms a very interesting exception.

It was a hamlet which went with the manor of Bensington, and that

point alone is instructive, for it points to the insignificance of the

place. When the lords of Bensington went hunting up on Chiltern they

found on the far side of the hill, it may be presumed, a little

clearing near the river. This was all that Henley was, and it is

probable that even the church of the place was not built until quite

late in the Christian period; there is at any rate an old tradition

that Aldeburgh is the mother of Henley, and it is imagined by those

who wrote monographs upon the locality that this tradition points to

the church of Aldeburgh as the mother church of what was at first a

chapel upon the riverside.

When we first hear of Henley it is already called a town, and the date

of this is the first year of King John, 1199.

It must be remembered that the river had been developed and changed in

that first century of orderly government under the Normans. Indeed one

of the reforms which the aristocracy made much of in their revolt, and

which is granted in Magna Charta, is the destruction of the King's

weirs upon the Thames. But the weirs cannot have been permanently

destroyed; though the public rights over the river were curtailed by

Magna Charta, the system of regulation was founded and endured. It is

probably this improvement on the great highway which led to the growth

of Henley, and when Reading Minster had become the great thing it was

late in the twelfth century, Henley must have felt the effect, for it

would have afforded the nearest convenient stage down the river from

the new and wealthy settlement round the Cluniac Abbey. In the

thirteenth century--that is, in the first hundred years after the

earliest mention we have of the place--Henley became rapidly more and

more important. It seems to have afforded a convenient halting place

whenever progress was made up river, especially a royal progress from

Windsor. Edward I. stayed there constantly, and we possess a record of

three dates which are very significant of this kind of journey. In the

December of 1277 the King goes up river. On the sixteenth of the month

he slept at Windsor, on the seventeenth at Henley, the next day at

Abingdon; and in his son's time Henley has grown so much that it

counts as one of the three only boroughs in the whole of Oxfordshire:

Oxford and Woodstock are the two others.

It was in the thirteenth century also that a bridge was thrown across

the river at this point--that is, Henley possessed a bridge long

before Wallingford, and at a time when the river could be crossed by

road in but very few places. The granting of a number of indulgences,

and the promises of masses in the middle of the thirteenth century for

this object, give us the date; and, what is perhaps equally

interesting, this early bridge was of stone.

It is usual to think of the early bridges over the Thames as wooden

bridges. Aft older generation was accustomed to many that still

remained. This was true of the later Middle Ages, and of the torpor

and neglect in building which followed the Reformation. But it was not

true of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The bridge at Henley,

like the bridge of Wallingford and the later bridge of Abingdon, was

of stone.

It was allowed to fall into decay, and when Leland crossed the river

at this point it was upon a wooden bridge, the piers of which stood

upon the old foundation. How long that wooden bridge had existed in

1533, when Leland noticed it, we cannot tell, but it remained of wood

until 1786, when the present bridge replaced it.

In spite of the early importance of the town, it was not regularly

incorporated for a long time, but was governed by a Warden, the first

on the list being the date of 1305, within the reign of Edward I. The

charter which gave Henley a Mayor and Corporation was granted as late

as the reign of Henry VIII. and but a few years before Leland's visit.

From that moment, however, the town ceased to expand, either in

importance or in numbers; the destruction of Reading Abbey and of the

Cell of Westminster at Hurley just over the river, very possibly

affected its prosperity. At the beginning of the nineteenth century it

had a population of less than 3000, and sixty years later it had not

added another 1000 to that number.

Maidenhead follows, for centuries, a sort of parallel course to the

development of Henley.

Recently, of course, it has very largely increased in population, and

in this it is an example in a minor degree of what Reading and Oxford

are in a major degree--that is, of the changes which the railway has

made in the Thames Valley. But until the effect of the railway began

to be felt Maidenhead was the younger and parallel town to Henley.

For example, though we cannot tell exactly when Maidenhead Bridge was

built, we may suppose it to have been some few years after Henley

Bridge. It already exists and is in need of repair in 1297. Henley

Bridge is founded more than a generation earlier than that.

"Maidenhythe," as it was called, has been thought to have been before

the building of this bridge a long timber wharf upon the river, but

that is only a guess. There must have been some local accumulation of

wealth or of traffic or it would not have been chosen as a site for

the new bridge which was somewhat to divert the western road.

Originally, so far as we can judge, the main stream of gravel crossed

the Thames at Cookham, and again at Henley. Why this double crossing

should have been necessary it is useless to conjecture unless one

hazards the guess that the quality of the soil in very early times

gave so much better going upon the high southern bank of the river

that it was worth while carrying the main road along the bank, even at

the expense of a double crossing of the stream. If that was the case

it is difficult to see how a town of the importance of Marlow could

have grown up upon the farther shore; that Marlow was important we

know from the fact that it had a Borough representation in Parliament

in the first years of that experiment before the close of the

thirteenth century.

At any rate, whatever the reason was, whether from some pre-historic

conditions having brought the road across the peninsula at this point,

or, as is more likely, on account of some curious arrangement of

mediæval privilege, it is fairly certain that, in the centuries before

the great development of the thirteenth, travel did come across the

river in front of Cookham, recross it in front of Henley, and so make

over the Chilterns to the great main bridge at Wallingford, which led

out to the Vale of the White Horse and the west country.

The importance of Cookham in this section of the road is shown in

several ways. First the great market, in Domesday bringing in

customary dues to the King of twenty shillings--and what twenty

shillings means in Domesday in mere market dues one can appreciate by

considering that all the dues from Old Windsor only amounted to ten

pounds. Then again it was a royal manor which, unlike most of the

others, was never alienated; it was not even alienated during the ruin

and breakdown of the monarchy which followed the Dissolution of the

monastic orders.

To this day traces remain of the road which joined this market to the

second crossing at Henley.

We may presume that the importance of Cookham was maintained for some

two centuries after the Conquest, until it was outflanked and the

stream of its traffic diverted by the building of the bridge at

Maidenhead.

Just as this bridge came later than the Bridge at Henley, so it was

inferior to it in structure; it was, as we have seen, of timber, but

such as it was, it was the cause of the growth of Maidenhead much more

than was the bridge at Henley the cause of the growth of Henley. The

first nucleus of municipal government grows up in connection with the

Bridge Guild; the Warden and the Bridge Masters remain the head of the

embryonic corporation throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth

centuries, and even when the town is incorporated (shortly before the

close of the seventeenth century), by James II., the maintenance and

guardianship of the wooden bridge remained one of the chief

occupations of the new corporation.

It was just after the granting of the Charter that the army of William

III. marched across this bridge on its way to London, an episode which

shows how completely Maidenhead held the monopoly of the Western road.

The present stone bridge was not built to replace the old wooden one

until the last quarter of the eighteenth century, parallel in this as

in everything else to the example of Henley; and this position of

inferiority to Henley, and of parallel advance to that town, is

further seen in the statistics of population. In 1801, when Henley

already boasted nearly 2000 souls, Maidenhead counted almost exactly

half that number. The later growth of the place is quite modern.

The antiquity of the crossing of the Thames at Cookham is supported by

a certain amount of pre-historic evidence, worth about as much as such

evidence ever is, and about as little. Two Neolithic flint knives have

been found there, a bronze dagger sheath and spear-head, a bronze

sword, and a whole collection or store of other bronze spear-heads.

Such as it is, it is a considerable collection for one spot.

The Historic Thames · 第 11 / 12 段