In The Creation of the Common Law: The Medieval Year Books Deciphered, Thomas Lund delivers what he promises, and more. Written for the sophisticated student of law and history, this book explores how common law was created and taught to new generations of lawyers. In doing so, Lund achieves a feat few have ever done; he exposes law as a construct of the upper classes that is used to ensure order according to ever changing interests.
Until the thirteenth century, English law was very much connected to the Roman law tradition, and thus to the continental legal systems of the time. Henry de Bracton's On the Laws and Customs of England remains the best tool to understand it. However, starting with early fourteenth century, a legal revolution happened in England. Lund attributes the revolution to the genius of one person: William Bereford, a practicing attorney, who became a judge and then, in 1309, chief justice of the Court of Common Pleas. Lund describes the Bereford revolution as ideologizing lawyers in a system of law, in applying the rule of law, rather than the letter of the law, which presumably is what Lund believes continental lawyers do. Bereford had reporters editorialize proceedings rather than report his reasoning in achieving a decision. Those editorials are called the Year Books. They give a glimpse at how the litigants achieved consent over the gist of the disagreement, irrespective of the writ the plaintiff purchased from the Chancery. (At that time, the Court of Common Please had jurisdiction only over the issues described by the writ the plaintiff purchased from the Chancery.) However, as the examples Lund provides show, that was not the case while Bereford was in charge. Bereford was able to manipulate the parties’ disagreement so the decisions would have the future precedential value common law requires.
One example that shows the economic mobility of the times is that of Simon of Paris, who returned to the area where his family lived in serfdom and from where he had escaped to reach great fame in London. When he returned, his former landlord incarcerated him for refusing to perform serfdom work. Simon bought a writ of trespass because he met corporal violence upon his return. His former landlord defended himself with proof of ownership of Simon's family and possession of Simon's body. Bereford asked the parties to agree upon their disagreement: what proves current ownership, just custody over Simon's body or something else? If the landlord could prove that Simon worked as a serf during all his life, then his counterclaim could be successful. That question was for the jury, which made it impossible to be appealed. In addition to that masterful change of the gist of the case, thus making sure that Bereford's decision was final, Lund argues that Bereford's impact was further enhanced by the Year Book, where the court hearing, but not the court's decision, was editorialized. Lund then argues that generations of lawyers used the Year Books to learn about the spirit of law which they were asked to apply, and absent a decision to aim for, it seems reasonable to agree with Lund.
Medieval lawyers only had a cartographical map in front of them, but not a clear set of rules of how to reach point A from point B. This legal fog is persistent today; although, it is less obvious. Law remains a vague construct of which lay people have no understanding; its function is to preserve a system which benefits few – only those who can buy their “writ,” which goes by other names today. Nonetheless, the economic demarcation between those who can afford the administration of the law and those who cannot remains.
In other words, Lund wrote a fascinating and provocative book, one about the thirteenth century, but like all good historical works, one that has a lot to say about today and tomorrow. It is one which I enjoyed thoroughly, and I wholeheartedly recommend for all academic libraries, legal or not.