land they hold. If Higg has bought the "villein tenement" of John, Higg, though a free man, will have to perform, or get performed, the villein services that are owed by it. If John has thriven so much, that while legally remaining a villein, he has bought a piece of Higg's freehold, he will have to pay for it whatever free services (usually a small rent in money) Higg used to pay. All this is written down upon a strip of parchment called the "Court Roll," which Roger keeps in his strong-box at the Hall. Very likely Roger has "emancipated" three or four of the better of his villeins; these then become free men, and they pay money rent instead of villein services for their land. It certainly pays Roger better, as it must have been exceedingly difficult to get the villeins to perform their proper labour rents. Tubney has been prospering exceedingly since we left it. There are now four families of freeholders, who pay only a small rent in money to this Roger (the eighth of his name since the Conquest). There are twenty-four villein families, and they occupy twice as much arable land altogether as the Domesday tenants occupied, though their individual holdings are no larger; they have broken up the waste land as far as the boundaries of Fyfield and Anglesham (the two neighbouring villages). One of these families still pays three days' labour a week; the others vary between two days, one day, a money-rent, and a rent in corn or hens or eggs or eels. All will have to do something extra at harvest-tide. The tenements of the freeholders have got names, and are giving the names to their owners. John holds the bull-croft, and because he holds it he has to go to the County Court at Lewes whenever it meets; it is a horrid bore for John, but that is the rent that he pays for his holding. If William bought the bull-croft he would have to go instead of John: the duty of going that long journey has got somehow or other attached to the soil of that particular croft on which the village bull is kept, instead of to the flesh and

blood of its owner. Probably the name of that piece of land will stick to John's descendants, and they will be called Bullcraft. David Hazelgrove is so called because his ancestors bought from one of the Rogers the thirty acres of woodland which went by that name. They thinned and planted and tended it well, and set up as village basket-makers; their name has been honoured for centuries in mid-Sussex; long may it be so. Roger the fourth was no sportsman, and he freed his villein, Hobb, on condition that Hobb should continue to supply the Hall with rabbits from the Warren. Hobb's great-grandson is now called Robert Warren. The Church encourages all these enfranchisements and commutations of labour rents for money rents; it is pleasing in the sight of God, and good for Roger's soul as well as for his pocket. The lawyers also encourage them, for enfranchisement is a legal act, and some lawyer will be paid for entering it on the court rolls. Once these services are commuted it will be impossible to change them back again; it will always be impossible to make people pay more or harder services than their last immediate ancestor paid. As the village increases in population and prosperity, Jack the Miller is perhaps, after the squire, the most important and prosperous person in it. True, mill-stones are very expensive, and do not last long; they cannot be bought nearer than Chichester, and it is a fearful job to get them across the soft, heavy tracks over the downs; but wheeled carts must have been continually passing from towns to villages with these necessary articles, and with iron for William Smith to make. ploughshares and horse-shoes and rough weapons. The wool and the corn and the hides which Tubney "exports" to Chichester to pay for these could no doubt have been carried on pack-horses. Salt must be imported from somewhere or other, for we salt all our meat for winter consumption-fat as we are, we seldom eat fresh meat. Very likely the salt comes by sea from Chester or Bristol to that rising port,

Shoreham. By sea certainly comes the wine that Roger drinks, the fine clothes that Roger wears, the catgut for the bow-strings of the village (the staves are made of yew wood from Kingly Vale, by John Bowyer), the finely tempered steel weapons and armour which Roger bears when he goes to serve King Edward. Roger breeds his own horses, and occasionally imports a sire from Flanders or Normandy.

Whenever and however they acquired their pied à terre, the Carys held dominion of some of the bottom land in the valley of Carywater for at least three centuries, or until the time of Elizabeth; but with the opening of their authentic history in the traditional fifth generation, to which we are now to come, they had already ceased to make their chief seat at their stammhaus. And so it is that they left there no enduring monuments.1 The immutable valley still

1 There is, indeed, a local tradition that the east end of the south aisle of the church of St. Giles in the Heath, where the timbers of the wagon-shaped roof are more elaborately carved than in other parts of the aisle, was originally a chapel of the Carys, and here in the floor a worn stone shows marks of the chisel, which a generation ago could still be made out as parts of an inscription to the memory of Thomas Cary, the thirteenth and last Cary of Cary. The parish register commences in 1653 after this Thomas had been dead for eighty years and contains no entry of the name. (See Dymond, H. & G., v, 7, and post, p. 168.)

The six-inch Ordnance map gives the modern topography in detail. On a hill above the west bank of Carywater directly east of the church of St. Giles in the Heath, and a few miles northeast of the Cornish town of Launceston, stands a farmhouse with an extensive steading and a fine view southwards over the characteristic hill scenery of Devon. It is known as Cary Barton, as it was styled in 1583 in the will of the last Cary of Cary. Nearby is what the map designates "remains of a mansion"-doubtless the site of the stammhaus, the "Castle Carye" of the Visitation of 1620. A plantation on the river is called Carywood, and across the stream,

retains the name the Celt gave it, but the Norman who assumed it, like the Celtic nomenclator, has long since departed. Where they both were the Earth Song may be heard:

marking the location of the Domesday Kari, are the villages of Towerhill and Downacary. But the atmosphere is altogether that of the modern world. Not only does a railway follow the valley, but there is little to distinguish the present barton from other modern farm buildings of the neighborhood: the oldest store barn alone has an archeological interest in a pent house built up out of carved stones taken from some earlier building, doubtless the nearby "Castle Carye."

CHAPTER FOUR

THE PARLIAMENT MEN

In the last half of the fourteenth century we encounter five Carys, John, William, Robert, John and William again, who are all historical persons, each vouched for by undeniable records; but as they emerge from the mist of tradition which still surrounds their ancestors, they are so confused one with another and as to the generations to which they respectively belong that it is now impossible to assign to each an unquestioned place in the pedigree: but at least they are all real people.

Because of this confusion and because no two of the traditional pedigrees are in agreement, it is permissible to look primarily to the contemporary evidence even if that involves departure from the judgment of the Visitation of 1620. That evidence points to the existence of a Sir John and a William Cary, brothers, of the fifth generation; a Robert, son of Sir John5, of the sixth generation; and that the Sir John who became Chief Baron was son of this Robert and,