THE BED AND ITS FURNITURE.--THE TOILETTE; BATHING.--CHESTS AND
COFFERS IN THE CHAMBER.--THE HUTCH.--USES OF RINGS.--COMPOSITION OF
THE FAMILY.--FREEDOM OF MANNERS.--SOCIAL SENTIMENTS, AND DOMESTIC
RELATIONS.
It was now a matter of pride to have the bed furnished with handsome
curtains and coverings. Curtains to beds were so common, that being
“under the curtain” was used as an ordinary periphrasis for being
in bed; but these curtains appear to have been suspended to the
ceiling of the chamber, with the bedhead behind them. With regard to
the bed itself, there was now much more refinement than when it was
simply stuffed with straw. Beds among the rich were made with down
(_duvet_); in the “Roman de la Violette” we are told of a bed made of
_bofu_--perhaps of flocks. From the vocabulary composed by Alexander
Neckam early in the thirteenth century, we learn that the bed was
covered much in the same way as at present. First, a “quilte” was
spread over the bed; on this the bolster was placed; over this was laid
a “quilte poynté” or “rayé” (_courtepointe_, or counterpane); and on
this, at the head of the bed, was placed the pillow. The sheets were
then thrown over it, and the whole was covered with a coverlet, the
common material of which, according to Neckam, was green say, though
richer materials, and even valuable furs, were used for this purpose.
In the “Lai del Désiré,” we are told of a quilt (_coilte_), made in
checker-wise, of pieces of two different sorts of rich stuff, which
seems to have been considered as something extremely magnificent--
_Sur on bon lit s’ert apuiée;_
_La coilte fu à eschekers_
_De deus pailles ben faiz e chers._
Among all classes the appearance of the bed seems to have been a
subject of considerable pride, no doubt from the circumstance of the
bedroom being a place for receiving visitors. There were sometimes
two or more beds in the same room, and visitors slept in the same
chamber with the host and hostess. Beds were also made for the
occasion, without bedsteads, sometimes in the hall, at others in the
chamber beside the ordinary bed, or in some other room. The plots of
many mediæval stories turn on these circumstances. People therefore
kept extra materials for making the beds. In the “Roman du Meunier
d’Arleux,” when a maiden comes as an unexpected visitor, a place is
chosen for her by the side of the fire, and a soft bed is laid down,
with very expensive sheets, and a coverlet “warm and furred”--
_Kieute mole, linchex molt chier,_
_Et covertoir chaut et forré._
One custom continued to prevail during the whole of this period,--that
of sleeping in bed entirely naked. So many allusions to this practice
occur in the old writers, that it is hardly necessary to say more than
state the fact. Not unfrequently this custom is still more strongly
expressed by stating that people went to bed as naked as they were
born; as in some moral lines in the “Reliquiæ Antiquæ” (ii. 15),
against the pride of the ladies, who are told that, however gay may
be their clothing during the day, they will lie in bed at night as
naked as they were born. It is true that in some instances in the
illuminations persons are seen in bed with some kind of clothing on,
but this was certainly an exception to the rule, and there is generally
some particular reason for it. Thus, in the “Roman de la Violette” (p.
31), the lady Oriant excites the surprise of her dueña by going to bed
in a _chemise_, and is obliged to explain her reason for so singular
a practice, namely, her desire to conceal a mark on her body. Our cut
No. 182, taken from the romance of the St. Graal, in the British Museum
(MS. Addit. No. 10,292, fol. 21, v^o), represents a king and queen in
bed, both naked. The crowns on their heads are a mere conventional
method of stating their rank: kings and queens were not in the habit
of sleeping in bed with their crowns on their heads. In the next cut
(No. 183), taken from a manuscript of the romance of the “Quatre Fils
d’Aymon,” of the latter part of the fourteenth century, in the National
Library in Paris (No. 6970), there is still less room left for doubt
on the subject. The people seem to be sleeping in a public hostelry,
where the beds are made in recesses, not unlike the berths in a modern
steamer; the man on horseback is supposed to be outside, and his
arrival has given alarm to a man who was in bed, and who is escaping
without any kind of clothing. In the English romance of “Sir Isumbras,”
the castle of Isumbras is burnt to the ground in the night, and his
lady and three children escaped from their beds; when he hurried to the
spot, he found them without clothing or shelter--
_A dolefulle syghte the knyghte gane see_
_Of his wyfe and his childir three,_
_That fro the fyre were flede;_
_Alle als nakede als thay were borne_
_Stode togedir undir a thorne,_
_Braydede owte of thaire bedd._
Curiously enough, while so little care was taken to cover the body, the
head was carefully covered at night, not with a nightcap, but with a
kerchief (_couvrechief_), which was wrapped round it.
[Illustration: _No. 182. King and Queen in Bed._]
[Illustration: _No. 183. Night Scene in a Hostelry._]
[Illustration: _No. 184. A Lady Bathing._]
The practice of warm-bathing prevailed very generally in all classes
of society, and is frequently alluded to in the mediæval romances and
stories. For this purpose a large bathing-tub was used, the ordinary
form of which is represented in the annexed cut (No. 184), taken from
the manuscript of the St. Graal, of the thirteenth century, in the
British Museum (MS. Addit. No. 10,292, fol. 266). People sometimes
bathed immediately after rising in the morning; and we find the bath
used after dinner, and before going to bed. A bath was also often
prepared for a visitor on his arrival from a journey; and, what seems
still more singular, in the numerous stories of amorous intrigues, the
two lovers usually begin their interviews by bathing together.
[Illustration: _No. 185. Lady at her Toilette._]
Our cut No. 185, from another volume of the manuscript last quoted (MS.
Addit. No. 10,293, fol. 266), represents a lady at her toilette. It is
a subject on which our information at this period is not very abundant.
The round mirror of metal which she is employing was the common form
during the middle ages, and was no doubt derived from the ancients.
The details of the ladies’ toilette are not often described, but the
contemporary moralists and satirists condemn, in rather general terms,
and evidently with more bitterness than was called for, the pains taken
by the ladies to adorn their persons. They are accused of turning their
bodies from their natural form by artificial means, alluding to the use
of stays, which appear to have been first employed by the Anglo-Norman
ladies in the twelfth century. They are further accused of plucking out
superfluous hairs from their faces and eyebrows, of dyeing their hair,
and of painting their faces. The chevalier de la Tour-Landry (chap.
76) tells his daughters that the whole intrigue between king David and
the wife of Uriah arose out of the circumstance of the lady combing
her hair at an open window where she could be seen from without, and
says that it was a punishment for the too great attention she gave to
the adornment of her head. The toilette of the day seems to have been
completed at the first rising from bed in the morning. There are some
picturesque lines in the English metrical romance of “Alisaunder,”
which describe the morning thus:--
_In a moretyde_ (morrow-tide) _hit was;_
_Theo dropes hongyn on the gras;_
_Theo maydenes lokyn in the glas,_
_For to tyffen_ (adorn) _heare fas_.
--Weber, i. 169.
The chamber, as it has been already intimated, was properly speaking
the women’s apartment, though it was very accessible to the other sex.
It was usually the place for private conversation, and we often hear
of persons entering the chamber for this purpose, and in this case the
bed seems to have served usually for a seat. Thus, in the romance of
“Eglamour,” when, after supper, Christabelle led the knight into her
chamber--
_That lady was not for to hyde,_
_Sche sett hym on hur beddys syde,_
_And welcomyd home thet knyght._
Again, in a fabliau printed by Meon, a woman of a lower grade, wishing
to make a private communication to a man, invites him into her chamber,
and they sit on the bed to converse--
_En une chanbre andui en vont,_
_Desor un lit asis se sont._
And in the fabliau of “Guillaume au Faucon,” printed by Barbazan,
Guillaume, visiting the lady of a knight in her chamber, finds her
seated on the bed, and he immediately takes a seat by her side to
converse with her. In the illuminated manuscripts, scenes of this kind
occur frequently; but in the fourteenth century, instead of being
seated on the bed, the persons thus conversing sit on a bench which
runs along the side of the bed, and seems to belong to the bedstead.
A scene of this kind is represented in our cut No. 186 (taken from a
manuscript of the romance of “Meliadus,” in the British Museum, MS.
Addit. No. 12,228, fol. 312), which is a good representation of a
bed of the fourteenth century. A lady has introduced a king into her
chamber, and they are conversing privately, seated on the bench of the
bed. In some of these illuminations, the persons conversing are seated
on the bed, with their feet on the bench.
[Illustration: _No. 186. Conversation in the Chamber._]
[Illustration: _No. 187. Taking Clothes from the Chest._]
The illuminators had not yet learned the art of representing things
in detail, and they still too often give us mere conventional
representations of beds, yet we see enough to convince us that the
bedsteads were already made much more elaborately than formerly.
Besides the bench at the side, we find them now with a hutch (_huche_)
or locker at the foot, in which the possessor was accustomed to lock
up his money and other valuables. This hutch at the foot of the bed is
often mentioned in the fabliaux and romances. Thus, in the fabliau “Du
chevalier à la Robe Vermeille,” a man, when he goes to bed, places his
robe on a hutch at the foot of the bed--
_Sur une huche aus piez du lit_
_A cil toute sa robe mise._
Another, having extorted some money from a priest, immediately puts it
in the hutch--
_Les deniers a mis en la huche._
The hutch was indeed one of the most important articles of furniture
in the mediæval chamber. All portable objects of intrinsic value or
utility were kept in boxes, because they were thus ready for moving and
taking away in case of danger, and because in travelling people carried
much of their movables of this description about with them. Hence
the uses of the hutch or chest were very numerous and diversified.
It was usual to keep clothes of every description in a chest, and
illustrations of this practice are met with not uncommonly in the
illuminated manuscripts. One of them is given in our cut No. 187, taken
from an illumination in a manuscript of the fourteenth century, given
by Willemin. Jewels, plate, personal ornaments of all kinds, and all
descriptions of “treasure,” were similarly locked up in chests. In our
cut No. 188, taken also from a manuscript in the British Museum (MS.
Reg. 2 B. vii., of the beginning of the fourteenth century), a man
appears in the act of depositing in a chest fibulæ or brooches, rings,
buttons, and other objects, and a large vessel probably of silver. Our
cut No. 189, from a manuscript in the National Library in Paris (No.
6956), represents a miser examining the money in his hutch, which is
here detached from a bed; but in some other illuminations, a hutch of
much the same form appears attached to the bed foot. In Anglo-Saxon
the coffer was called a _loc_, whence our word _locker_ is derived; or
a _cyste_, our _chest_; or an _arc_: from the Anglo-Normans we derive
the words _hutch_ (_huche_) and _coffer_ (_coffre_). The Anglo-Saxons,
as we have shown in a former chapter (p. 79), like our forefathers of
a later period, kept their treasures in lockers or hutches. In the
“Legend of St. Juliana,” an Anglo-Saxon poem in the Exeter Book, it is
remarked in proof of the richness of a chieftain:--
_þeah þe feoh-gestreon_ _Although he riches_
_under hord-locan,_ _in his treasure-lockers,_
_hyrsta únrím,_ _jewels innumerable,_
_æhte ofer eorþan._ _possessed upon earth._
--Exeter Book, p. 245.
[Illustration: _No. 188. The Treasure Chest._]
Among the Anglo-Saxons the lady of the household had the charge of
the coffers. In one of the laws of Cnut relating to robberies, it is
declared that “if any man bring a stolen thing home to his cot, and
he be detected, it is just that the owner have what he went for; and
unless it has been brought under his wife’s key-lockers (_cæg-locan_),
let her be clear; for it is her duty to keep the keys of them, namely,
her storehouse (_hord-ern_), and her chest (_cyste_), and her box
(_tege_).” (Cnut’s Laws, No. 180.)
[Illustration: _No. 189. A Miser and his Hoard._]
[Illustration: _No. 190. Joseph buying up the Corn._]
In the old metrical romances, when a town is taken and sacked, the
plunderers are described as hurrying to the chambers, to rifle the
chests and coffers, which were kept there. Thus, in the romance of
the “Mort de Garin,” when Fromont’s town is taken by the followers of
the hero of the romance, “the Lorrains,” we are told, “hastened to
destroy the town; there you might see many a chamber broken open, and
many a hutch burst and torn, where they found robes, and silver, and
glittering gold”--
_Loheren poignent por le borc desrochier._
_Là véissiez mainte chambre brisier,_
_Et mainte huche effondrer et percier,_
_Et trovent robes, et argent, et or mier._
--Mort de Garin, p. 168.
So in the romance of “Garin,” of which that just quoted is the sequel,
on a similar occasion, “there you might see them rob the great halls,
and break open the chambers, and force the coffers (_escrins_),”--
_Là véissiez les grans salles rober;_
_Chambres brisier, et les escrins forcier._
--Garin le Loherain, tom. i. p. 197.
Further on, in the same romance, the fair Beatrix, addressing her
husband, the duke Begues, tells him that he has gold and silver in his
coffers,--
_Or et argent avez en vos escrins._
--Ib., tom. ii. p. 218.
Money was, indeed, commonly kept in the huche or coffer. In the fabliau
of “Constant Duhamel,” when Constant is threatened by the forester,
who had detained his oxen on the pretence that they had been found
trespassing, he tells him that he was ready to redeem them, as he had a
hundred sols of money in his hutch by his bed--
_J’ai en ma huche lez mon lit,_
_Cent sols de deniers à vostre oes._
--Barbazan, iii. 307.
In the accompanying cut (No. 190), from a manuscript of the fourteenth
century in the British Museum (MS. Reg. 10 E. iv.), Joseph is
represented counting out the money from his _huche_, to buy up the corn
of Egypt, during the years of plenty.
[Illustration: _No. 191. Sitting on the Huche._]
The chests were kept in the chambers, as being the most retired and
secure part of the house, and, from the terms in which the breaking
open of the chambers is spoken of in the foregoing extracts, we are
led to suppose that the chambers themselves were usually locked.
The ordinary place for the chests or hutches, or, at least, of the
principal chest, was by the side, or more usually at the foot, of
the bed. We have just seen that this was the place in which Constant
Duhamel kept his _huche_. Under these circumstances it was very
commonly used for a seat, and is often introduced as such, both in
the literature of the middle ages, and in the illuminations of the
manuscripts. In the romance of “Garin” (tom. i. p. 214), the king’s
messenger finds the count of Flanders, Fromont, in a tent, according
to one manuscript, seated on a coffer (_sor un coffre où se sist_).
So, also, in the “Roman de la Violette,” p. 25, the heroine and her
treacherous guest are represented as seated upon “a coffer banded with
copper” (_sor j. coffre bendé de coivre_). Our cut No. 191, taken
from one of the engravings in the great work of Willemin, represents
a scribe thus seated on a coffer or _huche_, and engaged apparently
in writing a letter. Our next cut (No. 192), taken from a manuscript
of the fourteenth century in the British Museum (MS. Reg. 15 E. vi.),
represents a lady and gentleman, seated on apparently a coffer, the
former of whom is presenting a ring to the other.
This latter object, the ring, acts also a very frequent and very
important part in the social history of the middle ages. A ring was
often given as a token of affection between lovers, as may perhaps
be intended by the subject of our last cut, or between relatives or
friends. In the romance of “Widukind,” tom. ii. p. 20, the queen gives
her ring to her lover in a secret interview in her tent. So, in
the romance of “Horn,” the lady Rigmel gave her lover, Horn, a ring
as a token. It was often, moreover, given not merely as a token of
remembrance, but as a means of recognition. In the well-known early
English romance of “Sir Tristram,” the mother of the hero, dying in
childbirth of him after his father had been slain, gives a ring to the
knight to whose care she entrusted the infant, as a token by which his
parentage should be known when he grew up:--
_A ring of riche hewe_
_Than hadde that levedi_ (lady) _fre;_
_Sche toke_ (gave) _it Rouhand trewe,_
_Hir sone schie bad it be;_
_Mi brother wele it knewe,_
_Mi fader yaf it me_.
This ring leads subsequently to the recognition of Tristram by his
uncle, king Mark. In the romance of “Ipomydon” (Weber’s “Metrical
Romances,” vol. ii. p. 355), the hero similarly receives from
his mother a ring, which was to be a token of recognition to his
illegitimate brother. So, in the romance, Horn makes himself known
in the sequel to Rigmel, by dropping the ring she had given him into
the drinking-horn which she was serving round at a feast. Rings were
often given to messengers as credentials, or were used for the same
purpose as letters of introduction. In the romance of “Floire and
Blanceflor” (p. 55), the young hero, on his way to Babylon, arrives
at a bridge, the keeper of which has a brother in the great city, to
whose hospitality he wishes to recommend Floire, and for that purpose
he gives him his ring. “Take this ring to him,” he says, “and tell him
from me to receive you in his best manner.” The message was attended
with complete success. In our cut No. 193, taken from a manuscript of
the fourteenth century in the British Museum (MS. Reg. 10 E. iv.), the
messenger arrives with the letter of which he is the bearer, and at the
same time exhibits a ring in the place of credentials.
[Illustration: _No. 192. The Token of the Ring._]
[Illustration: _No. 193. The Delivery of the Ring._]
There was another circumstance which gave value and importance to
rings in the middle ages. Not only might rings be charmed by the
power of the magician, but it was an article of general belief that
the engraved stones of the ancients, which were found commonly enough
on old sites, and even the precious stones in general, without any
engraving, possessed extraordinary virtues, the benefit of which was
imparted to those who carried them on their persons. In the romance
of “Melusine” (p. 357), the heroine, when about to leave the house of
her husband, gives him two rings, and says, “My sweet love, you see
here two rings of gold, which have both the same virtue; and know well
for truth, that so long as you possess them, or one of them, you shall
never be overcome in pleading nor in battle, if your cause be rightful:
and neither you nor others who may possess them, shall ever die by any
weapons.” In a story among the collection of the “Gesta Romanorum,”
edited by sir Frederic Madden for the Roxburghe Club (p. 150), a father
is made, on his deathbed, to give to his son a ring, “the virtue of
which was, that whosoever should bear it upon him, should have the love
of all men.” The ring given by the princess Rigmel to Horn possessed
virtues of an equally remarkable description--“Whoever bore it upon
him could not perish; he need not fear to die either in fire or water,
or in field of battle, or in the contention of the tournament.” So, in
the romance of “Floire and Blanceflor” (p. 42), the queen gives her
son a ring which would protect him against all danger, and assure to
him the eventual attainment of every object of his wishes. Nor was the
ring of sir Perceval of Galles (Thornton Romances, p. 71) at all less
remarkable in its properties, of which the rhymer says--
_Siche a vertue es in the stane,_
_In alle this werlde wote I nane_
_Siche stone in a rynge;_
_A mane that had it in were_ (war)
_One his body for to bere,_
_There scholde no dyntys_ (blows) _hym dere_ (injure),
_Ne to dethe brynge_.
The consideration of the house and its parts and furniture, and of
the outward forms of domestic life, leads us naturally to that of the
constitution of the family. It was the chief pride of the aristocratic
class to live very extravagantly, and to support a great household,
with an immense number of personal attendants of different classes.
In the first place the old system of fostering, which was kept up to
a comparatively late period, added to the number of the lord’s or
knight’s family. As might was literally right in the middle ages,
each man of worth sought to strengthen himself by the alliances which
were formed by finding powerful foster-fathers for his sons, and the
personal attachment and fidelity between the chief of the family and
his foster-child was often greater even than that between the father
and his own son. In addition to the foster children, gentlemen sent
their sons to take an honourable kind of service in the families of men
of higher rank or greater wealth, where the manners and accomplishments
of gentlemen were to be learnt in greater perfection than at home;
and the younger sons of great families sought similar service with
a view to their advancement in the world. These two classes were the
young squires, who served at table, and performed a great number of
what we should now call menial offices to the lord and ladies of the
household, in all the amusements and recreations of which they took
part, and at the same time were instructed in gentlemanly manners and
exercises--it was a sort of apprenticeship introductory to knighthood.
In the same manner the knightly families sent their daughters to serve
under the ladies of the greater or lesser feudal chieftains, and they
formed that class who, in the French romances and fabliaux, are called
the _chambrières_, or chamber attendants, and in the English texts,
simply the _maidens_, of the establishment. The ladies of rank prided
themselves upon having a very great number of these _chambrières_,
or maidens, for they were not only a means of ostentation, but they
were profitable, inasmuch as besides attending on the personal wants
of their mistresses, they were constantly employed in spinning,
weaving, and the various processes of producing cloth, in millinery and
dress-making, in embroidery, and in a great number of similar labours,
which were not only required for furnishing the large number of persons
who depended upon their lord for their liveries, &c., but which were
sometimes sold to obtain money, which was always a scarce thing in the
country. The beauty of the _pucelles_, as they are often termed in the
French text, or maidens, is also spoken of as a subject of pride. In
a metrical story printed by Meon (ii. 38), a great lady receiving a
female stranger into her household, became so much attached to her,
“that she made more of her than of all her maidens, of whom,” it is
added, “there were handsome ones in her chambers”--
_De li la dame fet grant feste,_
_Plus que de totes ses puceles,_
_Dont en ses chambres a de beles._
And so, in the romance of “Blonde of Oxford” (p. 30), when the countess
went with her maidens to visit John, the remark is made that among them
there were plenty of beauties:--
_Et la contesse et ses puceles,_
_Dont ele avoit assés de beles._
The usual age for sending a boy to foster appears to have been seven
years. That was the age at which Fulke Fitz-Warine was sent to Joce de
Dynan in Ludlow Castle. “The lady,” the narrative tells us, “became
with child; when she was delivered, at the time ordained by God,
they called the child Fulke. And when the child was seven years old,
they sent it to Joce de Dynan to teach and nourish; for Joce was a
knight of good accomplishment. Joce received him with great honour
and great affection, and educated him in his chambers with his own
children.” Fulke the younger, in the next generation, was taken as his
foster-child by the king (Henry II.), and was nourished and educated
with the young princes, of whom John, in the sequel, proved a bad
foster-brother. The great barons sought to form alliances of this
kind with the king, as well as with his great ministers and other
men of power. In the romance of “Garin le Loherain” (vol. i. p. 62),
king Pepin gives the two orphan sons of Hervis of Metz, Garin and
Begon, as foster-children to the count Hardrés, and they thus become
severally the foster-brothers, or, as they are termed in the old
French, _compains_ (companions), of his two sons, Begon being the
foster-brother of Guillaume of Montclin, and Garin of Fromont. Although
they belong to rival families, and are each other’s enemies through the
turbulent scenes which form the subject of the story, the sentiment of
the relationship by fostering often shows itself. This yearning after
something beyond mere ordinary friendship seems to have been often
felt in the middle ages, and led to various characteristic practices,
among which one of the most remarkable was that of sworn brotherhood.
Two men--they are generally knights--who felt a sufficiently strong
sentiment towards each other, engaged, under the most solemn oaths,
in a bond of fraternity for life, implying a constant and faithful
friendship to each other. This practice enters largely into the plot of
several of the mediæval romances, as in that of “Amis and Amiloun,” and
in the curious English metrical romance of “King Athelston,” printed
in the “Reliquiæ Antiquæ.” The desire for this true friendship was
not unnaturally increased by the general prevalence of treacherous
falsehood and hateful feuds. There is a beautiful passage in the
romance of “Garin,” just quoted, which illustrates this sentiment,
while it furnishes an interesting picture of domestic life. “One day,”
we are told, “Begues was in his castle of Belin, and beside him sat the
beautiful Beatris. The duke kissed her both on the mouth and on the
cheeks, and very sweetly the duchess smiled. In the middle of the hall
she saw her two sons, the eldest of whom was Garin, and the youngest
was named Hernaudin; their ages were respectively twelve years, and
ten. Along with them were six _damoisels_ (gentlemen’s sons) of worth,
and they were running and leaping together, and playing, and laughing,
and making game. The duke looked at them, and began to sigh; which was
observed by the lady, who questioned him--‘Ah! rich duke! why have you
sorrowful thoughts? You have gold and silver in your coffers, falcons
in plenty on your perches, and rich cloths, buildings, and mules, and
palfreys, and baggage-horses; and you have crushed all your enemies.
You have no neighbour within six days’ journey powerful enough to
refuse to come to your service if you send for him.’ ‘Lady,’ said the
duke, ‘what you say is true; but in one thing you have made a great
oversight. Wealth consists neither in rich cloths, nor in money, nor
in buildings, nor in horses but it is made of kinsmen and friends: the
heart of one man is worth all the gold in a country.’”--
_Dist li dus, “Dame, verités avez dit;_
_Mais d’une chose i avez moult mespris._
_N’est pas richoise ne de vair ne de gris,_
_Ne de deniers, de murs, ne de roncins,_
_Mais est richoise de parens et d’amins;_
_Li cuers d’un homme vaut tout l’or d’un pais.”_
--Garin le Loherain, ii. 218.
The incident of the younger, or even at times the elder, sons of feudal
lords or landholders going to seek service is the groundwork of the
romance of “Blonde of Oxford,” and of the story of “Courtois d’Arras,”
printed by Meon in his collection of fabliaux and stories. The latter
tale is a mediæval version of the scriptural story of the Prodigal
Son. Youths of good family easily found service in this manner, and
the service itself was not considered dishonourable, because lords and
gentlemen admitted nobody to immediate attendance on their persons but
sons of gentlemen--persons of as good blood as themselves. To be a
good servant was a gentlemanly accomplishment, and the payment these
gentlemanly servants received consisted ordinarily in their clothing
and gifts of various kinds, rarely in money. I have already hinted that
the intercourse between the male and female portions of the household
was on a footing of familiarity and freedom, and at the same time
on a tone of gallantry which could hardly produce a high degree of
morality, but the details on this subject, though very abundant, are
in great part of a description which cannot here be entered upon. This
intercourse extended to what we should now call the privacy of the
bed-chamber. It was usual, indeed, for the ladies to receive visits
from the gentlemen, _tête-à-tête_, in their chamber. In the fabliau
of “Guillaume au Faucon,” printed in Barbazan, the young “damoisel,”
as the noble youth was usually termed, having fallen in love with the
beautiful wife of the lord in whose service he was, took an opportunity
of visiting her in her chamber, when he knew that all her maidens were
employed in another part of the building. Without knocking, he opened
the door gently, and found the lady sitting alone on her bed. The lady
saluted him with “a sweet smile,” and told him to come in and sit on
the bed by her side, and there “he laughed, and talked, and plaid with
her, and the lady did the same”--
_Rit et parole et joe à li,_
_Et la dame tot autresi._
In the midst of these familiarities, Guillaume made his declaration of
love, and was rejected, but his pursuit was ultimately successful. In
another fabliau of the thirteenth century, that of “Gautier d’Aupais,”
it is the daughter of his lord and lady with whom the young “damoisel”
falls in love, and he takes the opportunity one morning, while the two
latter are at church, to pay a visit to the young lady in her chamber.
Although in bed on account of illness--and it has been already stated
how people went to bed without any clothing--the lady is not surprised
by Gautier’s visit, but invites him to sit on her bed, and tell her
something to amuse her, and he finds the opportunity of making his
love with more success than the hero of the other tale. In the same
manner, the ladies are continually described as visiting the gentlemen
in their chambers, both by day and by night. In “Blonde of Oxford,” a
fashionable romance composed for the entertainment of the best society,
Blonde thus leaves her bed, throwing only a mantle over her person,
to pass whole nights with Jean of Dammartin, and their interviews are
described in language which would not be allowed in any respectable
book at the present day. The chevalier de la Tour-Landry, in his moral
instructions to his daughters, tells them a story to illustrate the
ill results of a quarrelsome temper. There was a young lady, he says,
the daughter of “a very gentle knight,” who quarrelled at the game of
tables with a gentleman who had no better temper than herself, and who,
provoked by the irritating language she used towards him, told her
that she was known to be in the habit of going by night into the men’s
chambers, and kissing and embracing them in their beds without candle;
and this is told, not in reproof of conduct which was unusually bad,
but to show that people who speak ill of others run the risk of having
their own failings exposed. Examples of this intercourse of persons of
different sexes in their chambers, and of the results which frequently
followed, from the mediæval romances and stories, might be multiplied
to almost any extent.
In these stories, the ladies in general show no great degree of
delicacy, but, on the contrary, they are commonly very forward. It is
usual with them to fall in love with the other sex, and, so far from
attempting to conceal their passion, they often become suitors, and
make their advances with more warmth and less delicacy than is shown
by the gentlemen in a similar position. Not only are their manners
dissolute, but their language and conversation are loose beyond
anything that those who have not read these interesting records of
mediæval life can easily conceive, which was a common failing with both
sexes. The author of the “Ménagier de Paris” (ii. 60), in recommending
to his daughters some degree of modesty on this point, makes use of
words which his modern editor, although printing a text in obsolete
language, thought it advisable to suppress. It might be argued that the
use of such language is evidence rather of the coarseness than of the
immorality of the age, but, unfortunately, the latter interpretation is
supported by the whole tenor of contemporary literature and anecdote,
which leave no doubt that mediæval society was profoundly immoral and
licentious.
On the other hand, the gallantry and refinement of feeling which the
gentleman is made to show towards the other sex, is but a conventional
politeness; for the ladies are too often treated with great brutality.
Men beating their wives, and even women with whom they quarrel who
are not their wives, is a common incident in the tales and romances.
The chevalier de la Tour-Landry tells his daughters the story of a
woman who was in the habit of contradicting her husband in public,
and replying to him ungraciously, for which, after the husband had
expostulated in vain, he one day raised his fist and knocked her down,
and kicked her in the face while she was down, and broke her nose.
“And so,” says the knightly instructor, “she was disfigured for life,
and thus, through her ill behaviour and bad temper, she had her nose
spoiled, which was a great misfortune to her. It would have been better
for her to be silent and submissive, for it is only right that words
of authority should belong to her lord, and the wife’s honour requires
that she should listen in peace and obedience.” The good “chevalier”
makes no remark on the husband’s brutality, as though it were by no
means an unusual occurrence.
A trouvère of the thirteenth century, named Robert de Blois, compiled a
code of instructions in good manners for young ladies in French verse,
under the title of the “Chastisement des Dames,” which is printed by
Barbazan, and forms a curious illustration of feudal domestic manners.
It was unbecoming in a lady, according to Robert de Blois, to talk too
much; she ought especially to refrain from boasting of the attentions
paid to her by the other sex; and she was recommended not to show
too much freedom in her games and amusements, lest the men should be
encouraged to libertinism. In going to church, she was not to “trot
or run,” but to walk seriously, not going in advance of her company,
and looking straight before her, and not to this side or the other,
but to salute “debonairely” all persons she met. She is recommended
not to let men put their hands into her breasts, or kiss her on the
mouth, as it might lead to greater familiarities. She was not to look
at a man too much, unless he were her acknowledged lover; and when
she had a lover, she was not to boast or talk too much of him. She
was not to expose her body uncovered out of vanity, as her breast, or
her legs, or her sides, nor to undress in the presence of men. She
was not to be too ready in accepting presents from the other sex.
The ladies are particularly warned against scolding and disputing,
against swearing, against eating and drinking too freely at table, and
against getting drunk, the latter being a practice from which much
mischief might arise. A lady was not to cover her face when the went
in public, as a handsome face was made to be seen, and it was not good
manners to remain with the face covered before a gentleman of rank.
An exception, however, is made in the case of ugly or deformed faces,
which might be covered. There was another exception to the counsel
just mentioned. “A lady who is pale-faced, or who has not a good
smell, ought to breakfast early in the morning; for good wine gives a
very good colour; and she who eats and drinks well must heighten her
colour.” One who has bad breath is recommended to eat aniseed, fennel,
and cumin to her breakfast, and to avoid breathing in people’s faces.
A lady is to be very attentive to her behaviour in church, rules for
which are given. If she could sing, she was to do so when asked, and
not require too much pressing. Ladies are further recommended to keep
their hands clean, to cut their nails often, and not to suffer them to
grow beyond the finger, or to harbour dirt. In passing other people’s
houses, ladies were not to look into them; “for a person often does
things privately in his house, which he would not wish to be seen, if
any one should come before his door.” For this reason, too, when a lady
went into another person’s house, she is recommended to cough at the
entrance, or to speak out loud, so that the inmates might not be taken
by surprise. The directions for a lady’s behaviour at table are very
particular. “In eating, you must avoid much laughing or talking. If you
eat with another (_i. e._, in the same plate, or of the same mess),
turn the nicest bits to him, and do not go picking out the finest and
largest for yourself, which is not courteous. Moreover, no one should
eat greedily a choice bit which is too large or too hot, for fear of
choking or burning herself.... Each time you drink, wipe your mouth
well, that no grease may go into the wine, which is very unpleasant
to the person who drinks after you. But when you wipe your mouth for
drinking, do not wipe your eyes or nose with the table-cloth, and avoid
spilling from your mouth, or greasing your hands too much.” The lady
is further, and particularly, recommended not to utter falsehoods.
The remainder of the poem consist of directions in making love and
receiving the addresses of suitors. The “Book” of the chevalier de la
Tour-Landry contains instructions for young ladies, in substance very
much like these, but illustrated by stories and examples.
The chamber-maidens also went abroad, like the young sons of gentlemen;
but female servants who came as strangers appear not in general to
have been well regarded, and they probably were, or were considered
as, a lower class. The circumstance of their having left the country
where they were known, was looked upon as _prima facie_ evidence that
their conduct had brought them into discredit there. The author of
the “Ménagier de Paris” advises his daughter never to take any such
_chambrières_, without having first sent to make strict inquiries about
them in the parts from whence they came. This same early writer on
domestic economy divides the servants, who, in a large household, were
very numerous, into three classes: those who were employed on a sudden,
and only for a certain work, with regard to whom the principal caution
given is to bargain with them for the price of their labour before
they begin; those who were employed for a certain time in a particular
description of work, as tailors, shoemakers, butchers, and others,
who always came to work in the house on materials belonging to the
master of the house, or harvest-men, &c., in the country; and domestic
servants who were hired by the year. These latter were expected to pay
an absolute passive obedience to the lord and lady of the household,
and to those set in authority by them. The lady of the house had the
especial charge of the female servants, and the “Ménagier” contains
rather minute directions as to her housekeeping duties. She was to
require of the maid-servants, “that early in the morning the entrance
to your hostel, that is, the hall, and the other places by which
people enter and stop in the hostel to converse, be swept and made
clean, and that the footstools and covers of the benches and forms be
dusted and shaken, and after this that the other chambers be in like
manner cleaned and arranged for the day.” They were next to attend to
and feed all the “chamber animals,” such as pet dogs, cage birds, &c.
The next thing to be done was to portion out to each servant her or
his work for the day. At midday the servants were to have their first
meal, when they were to be fed plentifully, but “only of one meat, and
not of several or of any delicacies; and give them one only kind of
drink, nourishing but not heady, whether wine or other; and admonish
them to eat heartily, and to drink well and plentifully, for it is
right that they should eat all at once, without sitting too long, and
at one breath, without reposing on their meal, or halting, or leaning
with their elbows on the table; and as soon as they begin to talk, or
to rest on their elbows, make them rise, and remove the table.” After
their “second labour,” and on feast-days, the servants were to have
another, apparently a lighter, repast, and lastly, in the evening (_au
vespre_), they were to have another abundant meal, like their dinner,
and then, “if the season required it,” they were to be “warmed and made
comfortable.” The lady of the house was then, by herself or a deputy on
whom she could depend, to see that the house was closed, and to take
charge of the keys, that nobody could go out or come in; and then to
have all the fires carefully “covered,” and send all the servants to
bed, taking care that they put out their candles properly, to prevent
the risk of fire. In the English poem of the “Seven Sages,” printed by
Weber, the emperor is described as going to his chamber, after the time
of locking windows and gates--
_Whan men leke windowe and gate,_
_Themparour com to chambre late._
--Weber, iii. 60.
And it appears from a tale in the same collection, that the doors and
windows were unlocked at daybreak--
_Tho_ (when) _the day dawen gan,_
_Awai stal the yonge man;_
_Men unlek dore and windowe_.
--Ib., p. 87.
There was another duty performed by the ladies in the mediæval
household, which was a very important one in an age of turbulence, and
must not be overlooked--they were both nurses and doctors. Medical men
were not then at hand to be consulted, and the sick or wounded man was
handed over to the care of the mistress of the house and her maidens.
The reader of Chaucer will remember the medicinal knowledge displayed
by dame Pertelot in the “Nonne-Prestes Tale.” Medicinal herbs were
grown in every garden, and were dried or made into decoctions, and kept
for use. In the early romances we often meet with ladies who possessed
plants and other objects which possessed the power of miraculous cures,
and which they had obtained in some mysterious manner. Thus, in the
Carlovingian romance of “Gaufrey,” when Robastre was so dangerously
wounded that there remained no hope of his life, the good wife of the
traitor Grifon undertook to cure him. “And she went to a coffer and
opened it, and took out of it a herb which has so great virtue that
whoever takes it will be relieved from all harm. She pounded and mixed
it in a mortar, and then came to Robastre and gave it him. It had no
sooner passed his throat than he was as sound as an apple” (“Gaufrey,”
p. 119). So in “Fierabras” (p. 67), the Saracen princess Floripas had
in her chamber the powerful “mandeglore” (mandrake), which she applied
to the wounds of Oliver, and they were instantly healed. In the “Roman
de la Violette” (p. 104), when Gerart, desperately wounded, is carried
into the castle, the maiden who was lady of it took him into a chamber,
and there took off his armour, undressed him, and put him to bed.
They examined all his wounds, and applied to them ointments of great
efficacy, and under this treatment he soon recovered. In the English
romance of “Amis and Amiloun,” when sir Amiloun is discovered struck
with leprosy, the wife of his friend Amis takes him into her chamber,
strips him of all his clothing, bathes him herself, and then puts him
to bed--
_Into hir chaumber she can him lede,_
_And kest of al his pover wede_ (poor clothes),
_And bathed his bodi al bare;_
_And to a bedde swithe_ (quickly) _him brought,
_With clothes riche and wele ywrought;_
_Ful blithe of him thai ware_.
--Weber, ii. 459.
To the knowledge of medicines was too often added another knowledge,
that of poisons--a science which was carried to a great degree of
perfection in the middle ages, and of which there were regular
professors. The practice of poisoning was, indeed, carried on to a
frightful extent, and it appears, from a variety of evidence, that
women were commonly agents in it.
A great part of the foregoing remarks apply exclusively to the
aristocratic portion of society, which included all those who had the
right to become knights. Through the whole extent of this portion of
society one blood was believed to run, which was distinguished from
that of all other classes by the title of “gentle blood.” The pride
of gentle blood, which was one of the distinguishing characteristics
of feudalism, was very great in the middle ages. It was believed that
the mark of this blood could never disappear; and many of the mediæval
stories turn upon the circumstance of a child of gentle blood having
been stolen or abandoned in its earlier infancy, and bred up, without
any knowledge of its origin, as a peasant among peasants, or as a
burgher among burghers, but displaying, as it grew towards manhood, by
its conduct, the unmistakable proofs of its gentle origin, in spite of
education and example. The burgher class--the merchant or tradesman,
or the manufacturer--appear always as money-getting and money-saving
people, and individuals often became very rich. This circumstance
became a temptation, on the one hand, to the aristocrat, whose tendency
was usually, through his prodigality, to become poor, and, on the
other, to the rich man of no blood, who sought to buy aristocratic
alliances by his wealth, and intermarriages between the two classes
were not very unfrequent. In most cases, at least in the romances and
stories, it was an aristocratic young lady who became united with a
wealthy merchant, and it was usually a stroke of selfish policy on
the part of the lady’s father. In the fabliau of the “Vilain Mire”
(Barbazan, ii. 1)--the origin of Molière’s “Médecin malgré lui,”--and
in one or two other old stories, the aristocratic young lady is married
to an agriculturist. Marriages of this description are represented
as being never happy; the husband has no sympathy for his wife’s
gentility, and, according to the code of “chivalry,” the lady was
perfectly justified in being unfaithful to her husband as often as the
liked, especially if she sinned with men who were superior to him in
blood.
It was common for the burgher class to ape gentility, even among
people of a lower order; for the great merchant was often superior
in education and in intelligence, as he was in wealth, to the great
majority of the aristocratic class. In Chaucer, even the wife of the
miller aspired to the aristocratic title of madame--
_Ther durste no wight clepe_ (call) _hir but madame_.
--Cant. Tales, l. 3954.
And in speaking of the wives of various burghers who joined in the
pilgrimage, the poet remarks--
_It is right fair for to be clept_ (called) _madame_.
--Ibid., l. 378.
The burghers also cherished a number of servants and followers in their
household, or _mesnie_. In the fabliau of “La Borgoise d’Orliens,” the
mesnie of the burgher, who is not represented as a person of wealth or
distinction, consists of two nephews, a lad who carried water, three
chamber-maidens, a niece, two pautoniers, and a ribald, and these were
all harboured in the hall. The pautonier was only another name for the
ribald, or perhaps it was a sub-class or division of the infamous class
who lived parasitically upon the society of the middle ages. Even the
ordinary agriculturist had his _mesnie_.
What I have said of the great dissoluteness and immorality of the
aristocratic class applies more especially to the households of the
greater barons, though the same spirit must have spread itself far
through the whole class. The aristocratic class was itself divided into
two classes, or rather two ranks,--the great barons, and the knights
and lesser landholders, and the division between these two classes
became wider, and the latter more absolutely independent, as the power
of feudalism declined. These latter were the origin of that class which
in more modern times has been known by the title of the old country
gentleman. As far as we can judge from what we know of them, I am led
to think that this class was the most truly dignified, and in general
the most moral, portion of mediæval society. There is abundant evidence
that the tone of morality in the burgher and agricultural classes
was not high; and the whole tenor of mediæval popular and historical
literature can leave no doubt on our minds that in the middle ages the
clergy were the great corruptors of domestic virtue among both these
classes. The character of the women, as described in the old satirists
and story-tellers, as well as in records of a still more strictly
truthful character, was very low, and, in the towns especially, they
are described as spending much of their time in the taverns, drinking
and gossiping. Of course there were everywhere--and, it is to be
trusted, not a few--bright exceptions to this general character.