It snowed in his hous of mete and drinke
Of all deintees that men coud of thinke:
After the sondry sesons of the yere,
So changed he his mete and soupere.
But we are not without vestiges of the baser servitudes of the time, and in this category we must set the great bulk of the agricultural classes of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The descendants of the old ‘Ivo le Bondes’ and ‘Richard le Bondes’ are still in our midst, and to judge merely from their number then and now enrolled, we see what a familiar position must that of personal bondage have been.
Of alle men in londe
Most toileth the bonde,
says an old rhyme.[[246]] Still more general terms for those who lay under this miserable serfdom were those of ‘Knave’ or ‘Villein.’ ‘Walter le Knave’ or ‘Lambert le Vilein’ or ‘Philip le Vylayn’ are names registered at the time of which we are speaking. The odium, however, that has gradually gathered around these sobriquets has caused them to be thrown off by the posterity of those who first acquired them as simple bondmen. Indeed, there was the time when, as I shall have occasion to show in a succeeding chapter, our forefathers could speak of ‘Goodknaves’ and ‘Goodvilleins.’ Feudal disdain of all that lay beneath chivalric service, however, has done its work, and we all now speak, not merely as if these terms implied that which was mean and despicable in outward condition, but that which also was morally depraved and vile. ‘Geoffrey le Sweyn’ or ‘Hugh le Sweyn,’ however, by becoming the exponent of honest rusticity, has rescued his sobriquet from such an ill-merited destiny, and has left in many of our ‘Swains’ a token of his mediæval gallantry. ‘John le Hyne’ or ‘William le Hyne’ (found also as Hind), as representative of the country labourer, is equally sure of perpetuity, as the most cursory survey of our directories will prove.[[247]] Of the ‘Reve’ in the ‘Canterbury Tales,’ we are told:—
There was no bailif, nor herd, nor other hine
That he nor knew his sleight, and his covine.