The Men Behind the Masque:
Office-holding in East Anglian boroughs, 1272-1460
[contents]
CHAPTER 5
Professionalism in Administration
Expertise as a Factor in Selecting Officers
If there is any trace of policy in customs
appointments, it is perhaps in favouritism shown to men with special
training. From 1354 to 1375 all the men appointed as controllers,
an office entailing only the keeping of a duplicate customs roll,
were clerks.[91] These include Henry
Talliser, Yarmouth's town clerk circa the
1330s-'50s.[92] It is not uncommon
to find town clerks active in the customs service, either as a
sideline to supplement their borough-paid salary, or after they had
left the borough post. At Lynn we have various examples. Benedict
de Massingham, acted as a junior clerk under his father Thomas
(town clerk c.1312-38) in the early 1330s, and succeeded him briefly
as town clerk in 1338/9, before going onto the controller's office
1339-41. Thomas de Morton not only served as clerk to the
borough (1373-96) but also, like Thomas de Massingham, to the
Merchant Gild (1385-87), in addition to
holding simultaneously the post of controller (1378-89). And Roger
Raulyn, who was town clerk c.1397-1401 and briefly controller in
1401.[93] John Tilney, a lawyer who
performed clerical work for Lynn's reform administration, was also
a controller, from 1425-32, and held other customs posts in Yarmouth
and Lynn 1432-35, whilst Geoffrey Costyn and Adam de Brandeston,
who performed similar clerical duties for Ipswich in the reigns
of Edward II and Edward III respectively, are also found in customs
posts.[94] Other clerks to be found
in the customs service include: William Whetacre of Lynn
(see above); John de Acle of Yarmouth (see above); Ipswich's
John Bernard alias Stathe (searcher 1392, controller 1395-1401),
who was also an administrator of the hospital of St. Mary Magdalene
and St. James; and Nicholas le Clerk (controller 1296-98, collector
1302-07), also of Ipswich.[95] A
number of other customs men were amateur or professional attornies.
Although the clerks and lawyers in the
customs service were outnumbered by merchants - a sort of
specialisation being seen in the number of vintners serving as
deputy butlers - the not infrequent choice of men whom we may
expect to have been able to read and write is interesting. When
the king required that controllers write their counter-rolls with
their own hand, what he was concerned with was not professionalism
but a safeguard against fraud and
absenteeism.[96] Nonetheless, the
stipulation may have encouraged the employment of trained men - although,
when we read Geoffrey Starling junior's declaration (in 1387) that
he wrote his counter-roll personally, we remain uncertain, for there
is no other evidence of Geoffrey's literacy and so many medieval
official statements cannot be taken at face value; here, Geoffrey's
concern is to certify the accuracy of the information in the
role.[97]
We really have no adequate understanding
of how many laymen could read and write, and to what extent, in
the later Middle Ages - a period renowned for the 'spread of
literacy'. These abilities appear to have been uncommon amongst
the urban classes, because non-essential in a society where
commercial calculations were worked out on the English equivalent
of the abacus and recorded by carving notches in wooden sticks,
where the wide use of signet-rings precluded even the need to sign
one's name,[98] where the notion
of recording everyday affairs in writing was itself relatively
novel (outside of ecclesiastical institutions), and
where a class of professional scribes existed to cater to the
occasional need for documentation. The ability to read was still
considered proof of training in the Church, the test of maturity was
still the ability to count money and to measure, and education for
most burgesses lay in the apprenticeship system, sometimes followed
(in the case of merchants) by a 'graduate course' as factors
serving overseas.[99] Grammar
schools begin to be heard of more frequently in the fifteenth
century, often when their schoolmasters, a troublesome lot, appeared
in court; such men are seen in Colchester by 1424 and Ipswich by
1412 - in the latter, Richard Felaw bequeathed in 1483 a house in
which to hold the school and others to support the
master.[100] But precisely what
effect this optional education had on burgess literacy is difficult
to gage. Occasionally we come across special individual educational
arrangements, such as the case of Robert Beche, town clerk of
Colchester (1349-80), who bequeathed property to a probably
illegitimate son, Andrew, the profits from which were to pay for
Andrew's maintenance and education at Cambridge for five years.
Britnell suggests that Robert's intention was to provide for a
successor to his profession but, if so, the plan did not materialize;
Andrew may have gone to Cambridge, but on his return he showed no
great interest in borough administration or clerical service
generally, although Robert's legitimate son John, a notary public,
followed in his father's footsteps as attorney in Colchester court,
and possibly town clerk c.1393, whilst a great-grandson of Robert,
another John Beche, was very prominent in Colchester's
administration 1428-57.[101] Although
we know little of it, the passing of skills and education through
family ties is not to be underestimated as a factor in the spread
of literacy.
Books were rare and valuable and few burgesses
are known to have owned them. The widow of Norwich mayor Richard
Purdaunce bequeathed an unusually large collection of books in 1481;
Yarmouth bailiff Robert Cupper bequeathed a psalter, a primer, and
three epilogues (1434); and Ipswich bailiff Robert Drye left at
least one book-case, although his will is surprisingly silent on
the subject of books.[102] Possession
of such objets d'art is no proof of reading ability. More
interesting is the "quemdam librum vocatum le papir de debitis
suis et aliis libris" belonging to, and one suspects drawn up
by, Ipswich bailiff and customs collector John Rous; the book was
stolen from his house in 1414.[103]
A private volume of John Lawneye of London embodies copies of all
deeds, wills, and other documents (carefully listed in chronological
order) relating to the descent of certain property in Lynn; although
the script is too fine for us to suppose that Lawneye drew up the
book himself, the purpose was very personal and the direct appeal
it contains to his heirs to recover the said property, of which he
had been defrauded by his mother-in-law, suggests not a book for public
reading but rather a family memorandum.[104]
Private documents rarely survive from medieval boroughs, and for the most
part were not intended to; unlike Liber Lynn, most were draft documents
often on cheap, perishable paper. It is difficult to believe, for example,
that the disordered and somewhat scrawled memoranda of some Lynn officer -
probably one of the town's legal counsellors - on two small membranes were
intended to outlive their use in obtaining repayment of expenses from
the corporation.[105] Not a few medieval
records survive quite fortuitously.
Perhaps a rudimentary reading/writing ability
was more common than our evidence can reveal. That only a minority
of customs officers were trained scribes meant the occasional
slipping of standards. In 1457, during a smuggling enquiry at
Lynn, Lord Scales ordered controller John Herman to produce his
book of controlment; to which Herman replied, one imagines with
some embarrassment, "that he had non Book yer of excepte oon litell
scrowe whiche was of his owne hande writing". And in 1357 the king
had to reprimand the Yarmouth customers for sloppy practices in
making out letters of coket: failing to enter their names, the
date, or the type and value of
merchandise.[106] That some ability
to write was possessed by men who did not expect to have to use it
in official capacities is suggested by two cases: at the 1416
election in Lynn a list of names of those elected was drawn up
personally by one of the electors, John Alger, a mercer of little
administrative activity; and the first draft of Margery Kempe's
memoirs she dictated to her merchant son (during his visit from Prussia,
to where he had emigrated), although the priest who was asked to write the
final copy found the son's draft "so evel wretyn ... it was neithyr good
Englysch ne Dewch, ne the lettyr was not schapyn ne formyd as other
letters ben."[107] Maybe there were
other merchants, like Margery's son, whose script was good enough for
their own eyes.
Besides the customs service, the other area
in which professional training may have been an asset - although,
again, not a pre-requisite - was parliamentary representation. The
occasional prohibitions of lawyers being returned to parliament do
not seem to have had much effect, and the presence of a sizeable
number of men with legal or clerical training has been noticed by
several historians.[108] From Lynn,
Ipswich, and Colchester,[109] between
1295 and 1406, 39 men categorised as professionals in our occupational
analysis (i.e. 70% of that group) served as M.P.s. In addition, 18
other men known to have had clerical skills or to have acted as
amateur attornies were also M.P.s. As the table below shows,
Lynn
Ipswich
Colchester
% of professionals in
office-holding group
4%
11%
10%
% of parliamentary seats
held by professionals
16%
14%
25%
% of same held by
other skilled men
5%
13%
9%
professionals were selected to represent these boroughs in parliament
to a degree disproportionate to their involvement in borough
government otherwise.
The ability to write and some understanding
of the law may therefore have been influential when the borough
electors selected M.P.s. There is good reason for this: one of
the principal functions of M.P.s was to report on parliamentary
business to their communities, and memory (which was wont to be
faulty) could be supplemented by written notes; in 1413 John
Tilney presented to Lynn's assembly 18 folios written by him reporting
on parliament's decisions on the Hanseatic
trade.[110] In addition, boroughs
took advantage of sending their representatives to where the seat
of government lay, to have them deal with town business in the
Exchequer or other branches of the central administration of the
king; such duties were at other times allotted to town clerks or
attornies retained by the borough for that specific purpose. Besides
attending the 1413 parliament, Tilney and his colleague were instructed
to prosecute the claims of the reform administration at court, seek
repayment of loans made to the king, present the grievances of
Lynn merchants regarding their treatment in Prussia, and treat
with Southampton representatives on the question of freedom from
tolls; at the second parliament of that year the same pair were
also charged with trying to obtain a confirmation of the borough
charters.[111] It was precisely
such needs, perhaps combined with a reluctance of others to serve,
that prompted boroughs to make use of their town clerks in fourteenth
century parliaments. At Lynn, Thomas de Massingham was elected to
20 parliaments (although one was prorogued and another revoked) and
2 Councils between 1318 and 1338, Richard de Skyren to 2 (1340,
1344), Thomas de Morton to 11 parliaments and one Council (1377-94).
At Ipswich, John Lenebaud was sent to the parliaments of 1318 and
1319, Geoffrey Costyn (although no longer town clerk) to 4 between
1328 and 1332, Adam de Brandeston to that of 1355, John de Lyng
to another in 1384, and William Bury (again after leaving the
clerkship) to one in 1423. At Yarmouth we know the identities of
few of the town clerks, but one, William Ambrose, attended 11
parliaments (1307-30), whilst Henry Talliser and Godfrey de
Colney - who were either town clerks or town attornies - attended
5 parliaments between them (1322-44), and Geoffrey de Somerton
attended 6 (1378-84). At Colchester Robert Beche and his successor
Michael Aunger were each sent to one parliament, whilst Warin atte
Welle, who was employed as a scribe by St. John's Abbey and whom
circumstantial evidence indicates to have been town clerk c.1310-26,
sat 4 times between 1329 and 1340.[112]
As with the customs service, merchants
outnumbered clerks and lawyers as borough representatives. Yet
even this was a sort of professionalism if we consider that the
parliamentary business with which boroughs were primarily concerned,
and on the subject of which they might wish to present petitions or
arguments, was largely that concerning commercial or other financial
affairs. Occasionally the king specifically requested that the
boroughs send representatives who were particularly knowledgeable
in maritime matters, mercantile affairs, or even special branches
of trade.[113] A similar interest
in expertise is seen in the arrangements for affeerors of arrested
chattels, witnesses to commercial transactions, and even sometimes
men assessing taxes, to be chosen from those with the best knowledge
of the value of goods - in other words, merchants. Also in the
development of a group of untrained para-professional attornies,
essoiners, and perhaps even
executors - Colchester's Simon Clerk is regularly found in this last
role between 1377 and 1403.[114]
Legal or clerical training was no
pre-requisite for the elected offices in borough administration;
indeed, the business experiences of men pursuing careers in commerce
or land-holding, which entailed some familiarity with aspects of
the law, was probably a more important grounding. Nonetheless, the
town clerks, the lawyers who involved themselves in borough government,
the men who built careers from service to the king, and the burgesses
who dedicated much of their lives to holding borough offices: between
them, they provided a solid if narrow backbone of experienced
administrators whose devotion to their towns guaranteed a stability
to borough government that the annual elections, combined with the
general unpopularity of office, otherwise might have disrupted.