For trewely this game is wel begun.
We must not forget, however, that many of these baskets and boxes would require cordage then as now. Piers Plowman mentions ‘Robyn the Ropere,’ and both name and occupation are still familiar amongst us. In the Fabric Roll of York Minster is mentioned a ‘William Raper,’ 1446; and again in 1457, under the head of ‘Custos canabi,’ one ‘Thomas Kylwake, rapor.’ Both forms are equally common in our directories. As representative of the more technical part of the industry we may cite ‘Thomas le Winder’ and ‘Richard le Windere,’ whose progeny still dwell among us. ‘Adam le Corder’ or ‘Peter le Corder,’ or ‘George le Stringer’ or ‘Thomas Strengfellowe,’ carry us back to names of the commonest import in the fourteenth century. The—
Lanterners, stryngers, and grynders
are set together by an old rhymer. But I have already said something about them in connection with our ‘Bowyers’ and ‘Fletchers,’ so I will pass on.
There are but few traces in our nomenclature of more delicate workmanship. Much of our jewellery came from abroad. Most of that fashioned in England was under the skilled eye of the Jew. Still ‘Robert le Goldbeter’ or ‘Henry le Goldsmith’ is not an uncommon entry at this time. The Norman equivalent was met by such a name as ‘Roger le Orfevre’ or ‘Peter le Orfeure,’ and these lingered on in a more or less full form till the seventeenth century. Their memorial, too, still survives in our ‘Offers’ and ‘Offors.’[[411]] Ivory was much used, too, and our ‘Turners’ here also were doubtless very busy. A pretty little casket of this material, called a ‘forcer,’ small and delicately carved, used in general for storing away jewellery and other precious gems, was decidedly popular among the richer ranks of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. In an old poem, sometimes set down to Chaucer, it is said—
Fortune by strength the forcer hath unshete,
Wherein was sperde all my worldly richesse.
Our present ‘Forcers’ and early ‘Nicholas le Forcers’ and ‘Henry le Forcers’ represent this. Our use of ivory tablets is not yet obsolete, though of late years the wondrous cheapness of paper and the issue of pocketbooks and annuals have threatened to absorb their existence. Of somewhat larger size were the ‘tables’ of this time. Chaucer, in portraying the Limitour, speaks of him as followed by an attendant, bearing—
A pair of tables all of ivory,
And a pointel, ypolished fetisly,