It may seem strange that wood should hold such a conspicuous position in work of a culinary nature, but it is with good reason. We must remember all our ornamental fictile vessels were unknown to our forefathers. It was not till the close of the sixteenth century they came into any settled use. It is to this circumstance we must doubtless refer the extraordinary prevalence of our ‘Turners.’ Not the least important articles of their workmanship would be the vessels they turned off from the lathe. That Jack-of-all-trades, the Miller of Trumpington, could, according to Chaucer, amongst his many other achievements, ‘turn cuppes.’[[399]] When wood, however, was not used, the utensils were of the roughest character—mugs, jars, and such like vessels, formed of the common baked and glazed clay, and reserved for the ruder requirements of the household. Our ‘Stephen le Crockers’ and ‘John le Crokers’ (P. W.)—for both forms then as now are found—made simply the glazed crock, or ‘crouke,’ as Chaucer has it, used for holding butter or milk or such like store—vessels, in fact, reserved for the scullery or the pantry rather than the parlour or hall. John de Trevisa, writing in 1387, says in his description of Britain: ‘There is also white clay, and red for to make of crokkes, and steenes (stone jars) and other vessels.’ The same may be said of our ‘Jarmans.’ Most of our domestic utensils, therefore, if not of wood or clay, were made of metal, and this generally of a mixed kind. ‘Henry le Brasour’ or ‘Robert le Brazur,’ now ‘Brazier’ or ‘Brasher,’ worked in brass; ‘Thomas le Latoner,’ or ‘William le Latoner,’ in latten or bronze;[[400]] while a mixture of lead and tin fully employed the wits and hands of our ‘Pewters,’ ‘Pewtrers,’ and ‘Founders.’[[401]] We must not suppose therefore, that ‘John le Discher’ or ‘Robert le Disshere’ (with their once feminine partner, ‘Margaret la Disheress’), and ‘Ranulf le Poter’ or ‘Adam le Potter’ or ‘Thomas Potman,’[[402]] laboured after the modern style. The ‘disher’ all but invariably worked in pewter,[[403]] and the ‘potter,’ if not in the same, could only resort to common clay as an alternative. ‘Calisher’ is probably the old ‘le Calicer’ or ‘Chalicer.’ The more modern spelling is found in the London Records, in 1310, where mention is made of ‘Ralph de Chichestre, Chalicer.’ The ‘chalice’ has now, however, allied itself so entirely with the sacramental office of our Church that it is hard to regard it in the light of an ordinary utensil. As a trade-sign a chalice would be readily conspicuous, and to this we owe, no doubt, our ‘Challis’s’ and ‘Challices.’
While speaking, however, of drinking vessels, I must perforce allude to the horner. I need not remind my reader how many are the descendants of such a man as ‘Richard le Horner’ or ‘John le Horner,’ but it may not equally have struck him how all-important would be his trade at such a period as this. That his chief manufacture was that of the musical horn I cannot doubt, so used as it was officially or ordinarily, at fair and festival, at dance and revelry, in time of peace and in time of war. The ‘Promptorium Parvulorum’ describes it as ‘hornare, or horne-maker.’ Still this would not be all—far from it. Windows were commonly made of this material, frames were constructed of it, the child’s horn-book being but a memory of this; lanterns were formed of it, cups of all sizes were fashioned from it, chessmen were manufactured out of it. In the ‘Franklin’s Tale’ descriptive of Winter it is said—
Janus sits by the fire with double berd,
And drinketh of his bugle-horn the wine.
As a sign-name ‘at the horn’ would be a common expression, and certainly we have had plenty of ‘Horns,’ if not the ‘horn of plenty,’ at all times during the last six hundred years.
Turning for a moment to vessels of a more general character, our ‘Coopers’ or ‘Cowpers’[[404]] or ‘Coupers’ have ever flourished extensively. Such forms as ‘Thomas le Cuper,’ ‘Warin le Couper,’ or ‘Richard le Cupare’ are found on every side; while even such entries as ‘Richard Cowpeman’ or ‘Roger Cowperese’ may be occasionally alighted upon. The term ‘coop’ is not in itself in common use now—indeed, saving in composition, as in hencoop, for instance, it is all but obsolete. The Norman and more correct ‘cuve’ gave us such early names as ‘Ralph le Cuver’ or ‘John le Cover,’ or ‘Adam le Covreur’ or ‘Robert le Coverur,’ the latter being one more example of a reduplicated termination.[[405]] Our modern ‘Covers,’ however, preserve the earlier and more simple form. Our ‘Cadmans,’ once written ‘Cademans,’ framed the cade or barrel, the sign-name of which gave us the notorious Jack Cade of early insurrectionary times. Shakespeare facetiously suggests a different origin when he makes Dick the butcher to insinuate that it was for—
Stealing a cade of herring.
In either case the same word is used, and the derivation in no way impeached. Our ‘Barrells’ are either sign-names also, or but corruptions of such an old entry as ‘Stephen le Bariller.’ ‘Alexander le Hopere’ and ‘Andrew le Hopere,’ now ‘Hooper,’ explain themselves.[[406]] Doubtless they would be busy enough at this time in strengthening these several barrels, cuves, coops, and cades with pliant bands, whether of wood or metal. Speaking, however, of wooden bands, reminds us of our ‘Leapers,’ ‘Leapmans,’ and ‘Lipmans.’ A ‘leap’ was a basket of flexible, but strong, materials, its occurrence in our old writers being so frequent as to need no example.[[407]] The ‘maund’ was similar in character, but made of more pliant bands, probably of rushes, for we find it in common use by our early fishermen. Our ‘Maunders’ and ‘Manders’ are, I think, to be set here, therefore, either as manufacturers or as wayside beggars, who bore them as the receptacles of the doles they got. Another supposition is that they were beggars who acquired the sobriquet because they maundered out their petition for alms. I cannot but think the former is the more likely derivation, our Maundy Thursday itself having got its name from the practice of doling out the gifts for the poor from the basket then so named.
But we have not even yet completed our list of surnames derivable from manufactures of this class. Our ‘Coffers’ represent seemingly the same word in a twofold capacity. We find occasional records where the cofferer was undoubtedly an official servant, a treasurer, one who carried the money of his lord in his journeys up and down.[[408]] More often, however, he was a tradesman, a maker or dealer in coffers or coffins, the two words being once used altogether indiscriminately.[[409]] Many of my readers who are familiar with Greek will recognise the more literal translation and meaning of the word in Wicklyffe’s rendering of Mark vi. 43. ‘And they token the relyves of broken mete, twelve coffyns full.’ Lacking any other name to represent the undertaker’s business, I doubt not our early ‘William le Cofferers’ and ‘Godfrey le Coffrers’ were quite able and willing to furnish forth this portion of the funeral outfit. These early surnames, then, must be set beside our already explained ‘Arkwrights,’ while, as sign-names, our ‘Coffins’ and ‘Coffers’ (supposing the latter not to be a curter form of ‘Coffrer’) will be as readily recognisable.
While, however, wood, clay, and the various cheaper metals were thus brought into requisition to provide the utensils of the household and the means of carriage, we must not forget that leather, too, had its uses in these respects. It is this lets us into the secret of the numerosity of our ‘Butlers.’ Important as undoubtedly was the ‘Boteler’ to the feudal residence, that fact alone would scarcely account for the large number of ‘le Botillers’ or ‘le Botelers’ we find in every considerable roll. The fact is, the name was both official and occupative. Of this there can be no doubt. In the York Pageant of 1415 we find walking in procession together with the ‘Pouchmakers’ the ‘Botillers’ and the ‘Cap-makers,’ all obviously engaged in the leather manufacture. The phrase ‘like finding a needle in a bottle of hay’ still preserves the idea of a bottle as understood by our forefathers four hundred years ago—that of a leathern case, whether for holding liquid or solids.[[410]] The hay-bottle was doubtless the bag that hung at the girth, from which, as is still the case, the driver baited his horse. Bottles for liquids were commonly of leather. The ‘black-jack’ was always such. It is of this an old ballad sings—