Among the animals mentioned as pets we sometimes find monkeys. One of the Latin stories in the collection printed by the Percy Society, tells how a rustic, entering the hall of a certain nobleman, seeing a monkey dressed in the same suit as the nobleman’s family, and supposing, as its back was turned, that it was one of his sons, began to address it with all suitable reverence; but when he saw that it was only a monkey chattering at him, he exclaimed, “A curse upon you! I thought you had been Jenkin, my lord’s son.”26 The favourite quadruped, however, has always been the dog, of which several kinds are mentioned as lady’s pets. Chaucer tells us of his prioress,— Of smale houndes hadde sche, that sche fedde
With rostud fleissh and mylk and wastel breed.
—Cant. Tales, l. 147.
Our cut No. 173, from a manuscript of the St. Graal, in the British Museum (MS. Addit. No. 10,293, fol. 31), written in the thirteenth century, represents a queen seated in conversation, with her dog in her lap. The next cut (No. 174), from an illumination in the interesting manuscript of the Roman de Meliadus in the British Museum (MS. Addit. 12,228, fol. 310), belonging to the latter half of the fourteenth century (the reign of our Edward III.), represents the interior of a chamber, with two little dogs gamboling about. In the singular work on domestic economy, entitled the “Ménagier de Paris,” written about the year 1393, the lady of the household is particularly recommended to think of the “chamber beasts,” such as little dogs, the “chamber birds,” &c., inasmuch as these creatures, not having the gift of speech, could not ask for themselves.27 I have printed in the “Reliquiæ Antiquæ” a curious Anglo-Norman poem, of the beginning of the fourteenth century, written as a satire on the ladies of the time, who were too fond of their dogs, and fed them delicately, while the servants were left to short commons (Reliq. Antiq. vol. i. p. 155). Cats are seldom mentioned as pets, except of ill-famed old women. There was a prejudice against them in the middle ages, and they were joined in people’s imagination with witchcraft, and with other diabolical agencies. The accompanying group of an old lady and her cats (cut No. 175) is taken from a carving on one of the misereres in the church of Minster, in the Isle of Thanet. Curiously enough, the English “Rule of Nuns,” of the earlier half of the thirteenth century, forbids the nuns to keep any “beast” but a cat.

The chamber was, as might be expected, more comfortably furnished than the hall. The walls were covered with curtains, or tapestry, whence this apartment is frequently termed in the fabliaux and romances the chambre encortinée. The story of a fabliau printed in my “Anecdota Literaria” turns upon the facility with which a person might be concealed behind the “curtains” of the chamber. Besides a bench or stool to sit upon, there was usually a chair in the chamber. In the fabliau of the Bouchier d’Abbeville, the priest’s lady, when she rises out of bed to dress, is represented as placing herself in a chair— En le caiere s’est assisse.
In the early English romance of “Horn,” the lady, receiving a gentleman into her chamber, gives him a rich chair which would hold seven people, and which is covered, in true regal style, with a baldekin:—

The chamber was especially distinguished by its fireplace and chimney. The form of the mediæval fireplace is well-known from the numerous examples still remaining in the chambers of our old castles and mansion houses. The fire was made on the hearth, upon iron dogs, which had often very ornamental forms. The old romances frequently represent people sitting round the chamber fireplace to hold private conversation. It was here also that the heads of the family, or individual members of it in their own chambers, assembled in the evening when no ceremonious feasting was going on. In a story in the text of the “Seven Sages,” printed by Weber, a young married woman is represented sitting in the evening with her lord by the chamber fireside, attended by their squire, and playing with a dog— The yonge levedi and hire lord
Sete an even by the fer (fire);
Biforen hem stod here squier.
* * * * *
The bichche lai in hire barm (bosom).
—Weber, iii. 71.
In “Gautier d’Aupais,” when the young damsel sends for her mother, her messenger finds the old lady sitting on a richly-worked counterpoint by a coal fire (probably of charcoal)— Sor une coutepointe ouvré d’auqueton
Trova seant la dame lez i. feu de charbon.
—Gautier d’Aupais, p. 25.
In the romance of “Sir Degrevant,” when the lady Myldore has sent for her lover to come privately to her chamber at night, she orders her maiden to prepare a fire, and place fagots of fir-wood to keep it burning— Damesele, loke ther be
A fuyre in the chymené;
Fagattus of fyre-tre,
That fetchyd was yare (formerly).
—Thornton Romances, p. 234.
A board is placed on trestles to form a table, and a dainty supper is served, which the lady carves for her lover, and she further treats him with rich wines. In the romance of “Queen Berthe” (p. 102), three persons, holding a secret consultation in the chamber of one of their party, sit on carpets (sur les tapis); but these were no doubt embroidered cloths thrown over the seats. Floor-carpets were sometimes used in the chambers, but this was uncommon, and they seem to have been more usually, like the hall, strewed with rushes. It appears that sometimes, as a refinement in gaiety, flowers were mixed with the rushes. In a fabliau in Meon (i. 75), a lady who expects her lover, lights a fire in the chamber, and spreads rushes and flowers on the floor— Vient à l’ostel, lo feu esclaire,
Jons et flors espandre par l’aire.
There was an escrin, or cabinet, which stood against the wall, which was often so large that a man might conceal himself behind it. The plot of several mediæval stories turns upon this circumstance. Chests and coffers were also kept in the chamber; and it contained generally a small table, or at least the board and trestles for making one, which the lord or lady of the house used when they would dine or sup in private. The practice of thus dining or supping privately in the chamber is not unfrequently alluded to in the old stories and romances.

Supper, however, being the second meal in the day at which the whole household met together, was generally a more public one, and was held, like the dinner, in the hall, and with much the same forms and services. It was preceded and closed by the same washing of hands, and the table was almost as plentifully covered with viands. After having washed, the company drank round, and it seems to have been the usual custom, on leaving the supper-table, to go immediately to bed, for people in general kept early hours. Thus, in one of the pious stories printed by Meon, in describing a royal supper-party, we are told that, “when they had eaten and washed, they drunk, and then went to bed”— Qant orent mengié, si laverent,
Puis burent, et couchier alerent.
And in another story in the same collection, the lady receives a stranger to supper in a very hospitable manner—“when they had eaten leisurely, then it was time to go to bed”— Qant orent mengié par loisir,
Si su heure d’aler gesir.
Sometimes, however, there were dancing and other amusements between supper and bed-time. Thus, in the romance of “Sir Degrevant,”— Bleve (quickly) to soper they dyght,
Both squiere and knyght;
They daunsed and revelide that nyght,
In hert were they blythe.
In a fabliau published by Barbazan, on the arrival in a nobleman’s castle of a knight who is treated with especial courtesy, the knights and ladies dance after supper, and then, at bed-time, they conduct the visitor into his bed-chamber, and drink with him there before they leave him:— Après mengier, chascuns comence
De faire caroles et dance,
Tant qu’il fu houre de couchier;
Puis anmainment le chevalier
En sa chambre où fait fu son lit,
Et là burent par grant delit;
Puis prinrent congié.
Fruit was usually eaten after supper. In a fabliau of the thirteenth century, a noble visitor having been received in the house of a knight, they go immediately to supper. “After they had done eating, they enjoyed themselves in conversation, and then they had fruit,” and it was only after this that they washed— Après mengier se sont deduit
De paroles, puis si ont fruit.
In the lay of the “Chevalier à l’Espée,” Sir Gauwain takes, instead of supper, fruit and wine before he goes to bed.

The custom of keeping early hours still prevailed, and is very frequently alluded to. People are generally described as rising with the sun. Such was the case with the king, in the romance of “Parise la Duchesse”— Landemain par matin, quand solaus fu levez,
Se leva li rois Hugues.
—Parise, ed. P. Paris, p. 219.
It was the custom, after rising, to attend service either in the church or in the private chapel. In the history of Fulke Fitz-Warine, Jose de Dynan, in his castle of Ludlow, rose early in the morning, heard service in the chapel, after which he mounted to the top of the loftiest tower, to take a view of the country around, then descended and “caused the horn to be sounded for washing.” This was no doubt the signal for the household to assemble for breakfast. In Chaucer’s “Squyeres Tale,” the king’s guests, after great feasting and carousing at night, sleep till “prime large” in the morning, that is till six o’clock, which is spoken of in a manner which evidently intimates that they had considerably overslept themselves. The princess Canace had left her bed long before, and was walking with her maidens in the park. In the “Schipmannes Tale,” too, the lady rises very early in the morning, and takes her walk in the garden. In the curious “Book” of the Chevalier de la Tour Landry, we are told of a very pious dame whom he knew, whose daily life was as follows:—She rose early in the morning, had two friars and two or three chaplains in attendance to chant matins while she was rising; as soon as she left her chamber she went to her chapel, and remained in devotion in her oratory while they said matins and one mass, and then she went and dressed and arrayed herself, after which she went to recreate herself in the garden or about the house; she then attended divine service again, and after it went to dinner; and during the afternoon she visited the sick, and in due time supped, and after supper she called her maître d’hôtel, and made her household arrangements for the following day.

The hour of breakfast is very uncertain, and appears not to have been fixed. The hour of dinner was, as already stated, nine o’clock in the morning, or sometimes ten. In the lay of the “Mantel Mautaillé,” king Arthur is introduced on a grand festival day refusing, according to his custom, to begin the dinner till some “adventure” occurs, and the guests wait till near “nonne,” when the grand seneschal, Sir Keux, takes upon himself to expostulate, and represents that dinner had been ready a long time (pieçà). Nonne is here probably meant for midday, or noon. The queen was in her chamber, greatly distressed at having to wait so long for dinner. The regular hour of supper appears to have been five o’clock in the afternoon, but when private it seems not to have been fixed to any particular hour. In summer, at least, people appear usually to have gone to bed when darkness approached; and this was the time at which guests ordinarily took their leave. Thus, at January’s wedding-feast, in Chaucer, we are told that— Night, with his mantel, that is dark and rude,
Gan oversprede themesperie aboute;
For which departed is the lusti route
Fro January, with thank on every side,
Hoom to her houses lustily thay ryde.
—Cant. Tales, l. 9672.
We must not forget that these remarks apply to the seasons of the year when days were long, for the scenes of most of these romances and tales are laid in the spring and summer months, and especially in May. We have much less information on the domestic relations during winter.

One reason for keeping early hours was that candles and lamps were too expensive to be used in profusion by people in general. Various methods of giving artificial light at night are mentioned, most of which seem to have been considered more or less as luxuries. At grand festivals the light was often given by men holding torches. In general, candles were used at supper. The accompanying cut (No. 176), taken from the manuscript of the St. Graal already mentioned, represents a person supping by candlelight. In the fabliau of “La Borgoise d’Orliens,” a lady, receiving her lover into her chamber, spreads a table for him, and lights a great wax candle (grosse chandoile de cire).

Lighting in the middle ages was, indeed, effected, in a manner more or less refined, by means of torches, lamps, and candles. The candle, which was the most portable of them all, was employed in small and private evening parties; and, from an early period, it was used in the bed-chamber. For the table very handsome candlesticks were made, which were employed by people of rank, and wax-candles (cierges) were used on them. They were formed with an upright spike (broche), on which the candle was stuck, not, as now, placed in a socket. Thus, in a scene in one of the fabliaux printed by Barbazan, a good bourgeois has on his supper-table two candlesticks of silver, “very fair and handsome,” with wax-candles— Desor la table ot deus broissins,
Où il avoit cierges, d’argent,
Molt estoient bel et gent.
—Barbazan, vol. iv. p. 184.
So in the romance of “La Violette,” when the count Lisiart arrives at the castle of duke Gerart, on the approach of bedtime, two men-servants make their appearance, each carrying a lighted cierge, or wax-candle, and thus they lead him to his chamber— Atant lor vinrent doi sergant,
Chascuns tenoit j. cerge ardant;
Le conte menerent couchier.
—La Violette, p. 30.
This, however, appears to have been done as a mark of honour to the guest, for, even in ducal castles common candles appear to have been in ordinary use. In a bedroom scene in a fabliau printed by Meon (tom. i. p. 268), in which the younger ladies of the duke’s family and their female attendants slept all in beds in one room, they have but one candle (chandoile), and that is attached to the wood of the bed of the duke’s daughter, so that it would appear to have had no candlestick. One of the damsels, who was a stranger, and less familiar than the others, was unwilling to take off her chemise until the light was extinguished, for it must be remembered that it was the general custom to sleep in bed quite naked, and the daughter of the duke, whose bedfellow she was to be, blew the candle out— Roseite tantost la soufla,
Qu’à s’esponde estoit atachie.
Blowing out the candle was the ordinary manner of extinguishing it. In the “Ménagier de Paris,” or instructions for the management of a gentleman’s household, compiled in the latter half of the fourteenth century, the lady of the house is told, after having each night ascertained that the house is properly closed and all the fires covered, to see all the servants to bed, and to take care that each had a candle in a “flat-bottomed candlestick,” at some distance from the bed, “and to teach them prudently to extinguish their candles before they go into their bed with the mouth, or with the hand, and not with their chemise,” i. e., they were to blow their candle out, or put it out with their fingers, not to extinguish it by throwing their shifts upon it—another allusion to the practice of sleeping naked.28 Extinguishers had not yet come into general use. People went to bed with a candle placed in a candlestick of a different description from that used at table; and we learn from a story in the “Ménagier de Paris” that it was customary for the servant or servants who had charge of the candles, to accompany them into their bedroom, remain with them till they were in bed, and then carry the candles away. Candles were, however, usually left in the chamber or bedroom all night; and there was frequently a spike, or candlestick, attached to the chimney; as in the fabliau just quoted there was, no doubt, a similar spike attached to the wood-work of the bed. The stick, whether fixed or movable, was made for convenience in placing the candle in the chamber, and not for the purpose of carrying it about; for the latter purpose, it appears to have been generally taken off the stick, and carried in the hand. Our cut No. 177, taken from one of the carved stalls of the chapel of Winchester school, represents an individual, perhaps the cellarer or steward, who has gone into the cellar with a candle, which he carries in this manner, and is there terrified by the appearance of hobgoblins. In the fabliau of the “Chevalier à la Corbeille,” an old dueña, employed to watch over her young mistress, being disturbed in the night, is obliged to take her candle, and go into the kitchen to light it; from whence we may suppose that it was the custom to keep the kitchen fire in all night.

An old poem on the troubles of housekeeping, printed by M. Jubinal in his “Nouveau Recueil de Contes,” enumerates candles and a lantern among the necessaries of a household— Or faut chandeles et lanterne.
A manuscript of the thirteenth century in the French National Library (No. 6956) contains an illumination, which has furnished us with the accompanying cut (No. 178), representing a man holding a lantern of the form then in use, and lanterns are not unfrequently mentioned in old writers.

It appears to have been a common custom, at least among the better classes of society, to keep a lamp in the chamber to give light during the night. In one of the fabliaux printed in Meon, a man entering the chamber of a knight’s lady, finds it lit by a lamp which was usually left burning in it— Une lampe avoit en la chambre,
Par costume ardoir i siaut.
In the English romance of “Sir Eglamour,” several lamps are described as burning in a lady’s chamber— Aftur sopur, as y yow telle,
He wendyd to chaumbur with Crystyabelle,
There laumpus were brennyng bryght.
We may suppose, notwithstanding these words, that a lamp gave but a dim light; and accordingly we are told in another fabliau that there was little light, or, as it is expressed in the original, “none,” in a chamber where nothing but a lamp was burning,— En la chambre lumiere n’ot,
Hors d’un mortier qu’iluec ardoit,
Point de clarté ne lor rendoit.
In the accompanying cut (No. 179), taken from an illumination in a manuscript of the fourteenth century, in the National Library in Paris (No. 6988), a nun, apparently, is arranging her lamp before going to bed. The lamp here consists of a little basin of oil, in which, no doubt, the wick floated; but the use of the stand under it is not easily explained.

Lamps were used where a light was wanted in a room for a long time, because they lasted longer without requiring snuffing. The lamps of the middle ages were made usually on the plan of those of the Romans, consisting, as in the foregoing example, of a small vessel of earthenware or metal, which was filled with oil, and a wick placed in it. This lamp was placed on a stand, or was sometimes suspended on a beam, or perch, or against the wall. We have an example of this in the preceding cut (No. 179), which explains the term mortier (mortar) of the fabliau, it was a wick swinging in oil in a basin. Our cut No. 180, taken from a manuscript of the fourteenth century in the British Museum (MS. Harl., No. 1227), represents a row of lamps of rather curious form, made to be suspended. In our next cut (No. 181), from a manuscript of the same date (MS. Reg. 2 B. vii.), we have lamps of a somewhat similar form, made to be carried in the hand.

Torches were used at greater festivals, and for occasions where it was necessary to give light to very large halls full of company. They were usually held in the hand by servants, but were sometimes placed against the wall in holds made to receive them. Torches were not unfrequently used to give light to the chamber also. In one of the stories of the “Seven Sages,” a man, bringing a person in secret to the king’s chamber, “blewe out the torche,” in order to cause perfect darkness (Weber, iii. 63); and in the early English romance of “Sir Degrevant” (Weber, iii. 213), where light is wanted in a lady’s chamber, it is obtained by means of the torches.

There were other means of giving light, on a still greater scale, which I shall describe in a subsequent chapter, when treating of the fifteenth century.

CHAPTER XII.
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—

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”—

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.

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.

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:—

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.

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.

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.)

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.

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.