Is historical expertise enough for the mediaevalist? Does the virtually complete mastery of the technical skills involved in mediaeval studies tend to cramp and in the end to destroy true historical-mindedness? Does belonging to a well-established school of historical thought and interpretation blind a man to a large extent to newer and vital factors of historical analysis, factors which were dimly discerned by some of his contemporaries in the days of his youth but are clearly understood by almost all historical scholars by the time of his retirement?

The frontier interpretation of American history with which Professor Frederick Jackson Turner captivated and intrigued the observers of American development more than forty years ago still retains its fascination. Professor Turner saw the American frontier as an area in which American society was constantly being rebuilt, each time shaped by special problems: “American social development,” he wrote, “has been continually beginning over again on the frontier.” It was on this theme that Professor Turner based his most striking contention that “The existence of an area of free land, its continuous recession, and the advance of American settlement westward, explain American development.”

An accurate list of the Norman communes would seem to be an essential preliminary for any real discussion of their nature and organization. It was confidently expected, in 1929, that such a list could be constructed for the period of transition under Richard, John, and Philip Augustus. Actually, however, in spite of much additional work in the whole field in the interim, the task has proved exceedingly difficult if not downright impossible. There is, on the one hand, no substantial agreement as to the distinguishing characteristics of a commune and, on the other, no possibility of complete identification due to the lack of materials or, when the materials do exist, to their fragmentary nature.

The teacher of mediaeval history, like all teachers, is confronted with difficult and probably insoluble problems. He deals with a period of at least a thousand years and must perforce condense drastically in order to find for his subject any place at all in the ordinary college curriculum. He handles not only facts which are partially or imperfectly known and developments which are both broad and intricate, but also concepts which are foreign to the minds of his students. Not unnaturally, therefore, he simplifies what he has to present, often to the point of absurdity, stresses whatever may be found in the mediaeval world which may be made to seem, to anticipate modern conditions, and omits or apologizes for the rest. It is hardly strange that his students, in the end, are vague as to things mediaeval in general and confused as to mediaeval characteristics specifically. They welcome the Renaissance with an almost audible sigh of relief and are easily lured into the greener and more familiar pastures of modern history.