As we have already hinted, the inventories of this period give us curious information on the furniture of houses of different descriptions. We learn from one of these, made in 1446, that there were at that time belonging to the hall of the priory of Durham, one dorsal or dorser, embroidered with the birds of St. Cuthbert and the arms of the church, five pieces of red cloth (three embroidered and two plain), no doubt for the same purpose of throwing over the seats; six cushions; three basins of brass; and three washing-basins. A gentleman at Northallerton, in Yorkshire, who made his will in 1444, had in his hall, thirteen jugs or pots of brass, four basins, and two ewers (of course, for washing the hands), three candlesticks, five (metal) dishes, three kettles, nine vessels of lead and pewter, “utensils of iron belonging to the hall,” valued at two shillings—probably the fire-irons, one dorser and one banker. An inventory of a gentleman’s goods in the year 1463, apparently in the southern part of England (printed in the “New Retrospective Review”), gives, as the contents of the hall,—a standing spear, a hanging of stained work, a mappa-mundi (a map of the world) of parchment—a curious article for the hall, a side-table, one “dormond” table (a permanent table), a beam with six candlesticks.
A vocabulary of the fifteenth century (“Volume of Vocabularies,” p. 197) enumerates, as the ordinary furniture of the hall, a board, a trestle, a banker, a dorser, a natte (table-cloth), a table dormant, a basin, a laver, fire on a hearth, a brand or torch, a yule-block, an andiron, tongs, a pair of bellows, wood for the fire, a long settle, a chair, a bench, a stool, a cushion, and a screen. The permanent or dormant table, is shown in the scene given in our cut [No. 238], taken from the beautifully illuminated manuscript of the “Roman de la Violette,” at Paris, some facsimiles from which were privately distributed by the comte de Bastard, from whom I had the honour of receiving a copy. We have here also the seat with its back, and the buffet with its jugs and dishes. In our cut [No. 236], we had the waits or trumpeters, who were always attached to the halls of great people to announce the commencement of the dinner. Only persons of a certain rank were allowed this piece of ostentation; but everybody had minstrelsy to dinner who could obtain it, and when it was at hand. The wandering minstrel was welcome in every hall, and for this very reason the class of ambulatory musicians was very numerous. In the scene given in this cut ([No. 238]), the wandering minstrel, or, according to the story, a nobleman in that disguise, has just arrived, and he is allowed, without ceremony or suspicion, to seat himself at the fire, apparently on a stool, beside the two individuals at dinner.
No. 238. Reception of the Minstrel.
The floor of the hall was usually paved with tiles, or with flag stones, and very little care appears to have been shown to cleanliness, as far as it was concerned, except that it was usual to strew it with rushes. Among the various French metrical “Contenances de Table,” or directions for behaviour at table, of the fifteenth century, the person instructed is told that he must not spit upon the table at dinner time— Ne craiche par dessus la table,
Car c’est chose desconvenable,
which is necessarily an intimation that he must spit upon the floor. In another of these pieces he is told that when he washes his mouth at table, he must not reject the water into the basin— Quant ta bouche tu laveras,
Ou bacin point ne cracheras.
The reason for this rule was evidently the circumstance that one basin might serve for all the company; but the alternative again was of course to spit the water out upon the floor. Again, in one of these codes, the learner is told that when he makes sops in his wine, he must either drink all the wine in the glass, or throw what remains on the floor:— Enfant, se tu faiz en ton verre
Souppes de vin aucunement,
Boy tout le vin entierement,
Ou autrement le gecte à terre.
Or, as it is expressed in another similar code more briefly— Se tu fais souppes en ton verre,
Boy le vin ou le gette à terre.
There can be no doubt that all this must have made an extremely dirty floor. Another rather naïve direction shows that no more attention was paid to the cleanliness of the benches and seats; it is considered necessary to tell the scholar always to look at his seat before he sits down at table, to a assure himself that there is nothing dirty upon it!—
Enfant, prens de regarder peine
Sur le siege où tu te sierras,
Se aucune chose y verras
Qui soit deshonneste ou vilaine.
The fireplace at the side of the hall, with hearth and chimney, were now in general use. An example is given in our last cut; another will be seen in our cut [No. 239], and here, though evidently in the hall, and a monastic hall too, the process of cooking is pursued at it. The monks appear to be taking a joyous repast, not quite in keeping with the strict rule of their order, and the way in which they are conducting themselves towards the women who have been introduced into the monastery does not speak in favour of monastic continence. This picture is from a manuscript bible, of the fifteenth century, in the National Library at Paris (No. 6829).
Manners at table appear to have been losing some of the strictness and stiffness of their ceremonial, while they retained their rudeness. The bowl of water was carried round to the guests, and each washed his hands before dinner, but the washing after dinner appears now to have been commonly omitted. In one of the directions for table already quoted, the scholar is told that he must wash himself when he rises from bed in the morning, once at dinner, and once at supper, in all thrice a day:— Enfant, d’honneur lave tes mains
A ton lever, à ton disner,
Et puis au soupper, sans finer;
Ce sont trois foys à tout le moins.
And again, in another similar code,—
Lave tes mains devant disner,
Et aussi quant vouldras soupper.
