You must pardon me if my observations this afternoon betray, in a more marked degree than you may think appropriate in the President of your Society, the diffidence which is born of surprise. For it was a genuine surprise to me when in the course of last summer the Council of the Royal Historical Society did me the honour of nominating me their President—a nomination which you have now been good enough to confirm—in the place of a predecessor of high distinction. I was aware that before him this office had been filled by men of eminence either as historians or among those who have signally contributed to the making of history. The earliest name on the list is, I believe, that of an English classic whose venerated figure stands on a pillar ‘wrought full sternely’ among those consecrate in the House of Fame to illustrious historians, near the place of honour belonging to Gibbon himself. For, unlike to one another as he and Grote were from most points of view of philosophical thought, of political principle, and of literary taste, more than one analogy is traceable between the growths of their respective masterpieces. Each was the work of its author's mature manhood; each was carried out consecutively, with that consciousness of the goal in view which proportionates effort to progress, and within a limit of years far outside of which unity of execution is virtually impossible. Thus, though in both instances the historian's conception of his theme was not only vast and comprehensive, but confessedly grew under his hands into its ultimate shape, the complete edifice stood square to the elements, and in the mortar ‘which made the building sure’ the ingredient of civic experience had not been omitted.

The battle of Dunbar has been so often described, that it is a bold undertaking to attempt to describe it again. My only excuse is that a careful study of the old evidence on which the accounts of the battle are based, and the discovery of a new piece of evidence, have led me to believe that the battle was fought in rather a different way, and that the two armies were posted in rather a different position, from what is generally supposed. And, having carefully examined the ground and turned over the evidence again and again, I am the more confirmed in the view which I wish to lay before you. Whether I can succeed in proving my theory or not, it is for historians to judge, but at all events it is sufficiently new to be worth stating.

The scope of this paper is strictly defined by its title; its subject is the judgment said to have been pronounced upon John Lackland in 1202, and nothing else. I do not intend to discuss that other judgment which John is said to have undergone, in 1203 or later, for the murder of Arthur; nor the composition of the court before which the trial, on either or both of these occasions, is supposed to have been held. With respect to the so-called ‘second condemnation’ I will only say—for the sake of making my own attitude clear—that, notwithstanding the arguments recently put forth by M. Guilhiermoz in support of its reality, I am still content to abide by the conclusion which the generality of historical scholars, on both sides of the Channel, have for the last six teen years regarded as established by M. Bémont: that the ‘condemnation of 1203’ is fictitious. My study of the evidence relating to the matter has, however, led me to form the opinion that the condemnation of 1202 is fictitious likewise. It is with reference to this point alone that I venture to offer a few considerations.

The social conditions of the early years of the eighteenth century were in a high degree favourable to underhand dealings. Although England was on the verge of a great war with her secular rival, the patrolling of the Channel seems to have been almost entirely neglected. Sloops crossed to France, and crossed to England from France almost daily, and went and came unchallenged. H.M.S. Warspite, on seizing a French privateer out of St. Malo, was confronted with the claim of a Yarmouth fisherman, who complained that the boat was his own; that it had been driven to sea in a storm, captured, and carried to St. Malo. Every fishing fleet clearly ran the same risk. The presence of a Seaford peasant having become desirable, for some undisclosed reason, he was kidnapped from his field, willingly or unwillingly, and carried to France. With the Channel in this condition it is clear that although the movements of highly placed men could be watched and controlled, obscure agents could pass and repass in perfect security, so far as the efforts of the pubic services were concerned. Extensive powers of the public services were concerned. Extensive powers of arrest of suspicious persons were enjoyed by the magistracy, but the public services were themselves not above suspicion.

The material upon which this paper is based is largely confined to the unpublished records of a single Norfolk manor. The aim of the paper is to sketch so far as possible the conditions that within this manor effected and accompanied the decay of serfdom.

The occasion which gave rise to these notes was the discovery three years ago, at Blickling in Norfolk, of the diplomatic papers of John Hobart, second Earl of Bucking-hamshire, who was ambassador to the Court of Russia from 1762 to 1765. These were entrusted to me by their owner, Constance, Marchioness of Lothian, to examine and catalogue, and among them, it soon became evident, were notes and memoranda relating to questions of a much earlier date than that of Lord Buckinghamshire's mission, which it was of interest to trace to their source.

The oldest monument of Russian travel is the journey of the Archimandrite Daniel of Kiev to the Holy Land about A.D. 1106–7. Even earlier than this, we have allusions to Russian pilgrims and pilgrimages. Thus in the life of St. Theodosius of Kiev we are told of the visit of certain unnamed devotees to Palestine in 1022; and in 1062 St. Varlaam, head of the Lavra of Kiev, followed in their steps. But no personal record of a Russian traveller in this age (the eleventh century) has yet been found.

The object of the present paper is to put forward a new theory in explanation of the curious list of old English districts with their hidages, or what purport to be their hidages, which is to be found printed in Birch's Cartularium Saxonicum (vol. i., 414), and to which attention has often been drawn, but most recently by Professor Maitland in his ‘Domesday Book and Beyond’ (p. 506) under the name of the ‘Tribal Hidage.’

The Royal Historical Society has already devoted much of its valuable space to the Inquisitions on Depopulation of 1517. In its ‘Transactions’ for three successive years, and in two extra volumes, Mr. Leadam has, with painstaking industry, edited and statistically exploited all that in 1897 was accessible of the Inquisitions. The initiative of the editor and the generosity of the Society must have their reward in the gratitude of all students of English economic history. A further investigation, however, into the inclosure movement of the Tudor period has brought new material to light, and raises questions which, from the importance of the subject, render advisable a critical review of Mr. Leadam's methods and conclusions.