There was another circumstance which gave value and importance to rings in the middle ages. Not only might rings be charmed by the power of the magician, but it was an article of general belief that the engraved stones of the ancients, which were found commonly enough on old sites, and even the precious stones in general, without any engraving, possessed extraordinary virtues, the benefit of which was imparted to those who carried them on their persons. In the romance of “Melusine” (p. 357), the heroine, when about to leave the house of her husband, gives him two rings, and says, “My sweet love, you see here two rings of gold, which have both the same virtue; and know well for truth, that so long as you possess them, or one of them, you shall never be overcome in pleading nor in battle, if your cause be rightful: and neither you nor others who may possess them, shall ever die by any weapons.” In a story among the collection of the “Gesta Romanorum,” edited by sir Frederic Madden for the Roxburghe Club (p. 150), a father is made, on his deathbed, to give to his son a ring, “the virtue of which was, that whosoever should bear it upon him, should have the love of all men.” The ring given by the princess Rigmel to Horn possessed virtues of an equally remarkable description—“Whoever bore it upon him could not perish; he need not fear to die either in fire or water, or in field of battle, or in the contention of the tournament.” So, in the romance of “Floire and Blanceflor” (p. 42), the queen gives her son a ring which would protect him against all danger, and assure to him the eventual attainment of every object of his wishes. Nor was the ring of sir Perceval of Galles (Thornton Romances, p. 71) at all less remarkable in its properties, of which the rhymer says—

The consideration of the house and its parts and furniture, and of the outward forms of domestic life, leads us naturally to that of the constitution of the family. It was the chief pride of the aristocratic class to live very extravagantly, and to support a great household, with an immense number of personal attendants of different classes. In the first place the old system of fostering, which was kept up to a comparatively late period, added to the number of the lord’s or knight’s family. As might was literally right in the middle ages, each man of worth sought to strengthen himself by the alliances which were formed by finding powerful foster-fathers for his sons, and the personal attachment and fidelity between the chief of the family and his foster-child was often greater even than that between the father and his own son. In addition to the foster children, gentlemen sent their sons to take an honourable kind of service in the families of men of higher rank or greater wealth, where the manners and accomplishments of gentlemen were to be learnt in greater perfection than at home; and the younger sons of great families sought similar service with a view to their advancement in the world. These two classes were the young squires, who served at table, and performed a great number of what we should now call menial offices to the lord and ladies of the household, in all the amusements and recreations of which they took part, and at the same time were instructed in gentlemanly manners and exercises—it was a sort of apprenticeship introductory to knighthood. In the same manner the knightly families sent their daughters to serve under the ladies of the greater or lesser feudal chieftains, and they formed that class who, in the French romances and fabliaux, are called the chambrières, or chamber attendants, and in the English texts, simply the maidens, of the establishment. The ladies of rank prided themselves upon having a very great number of these chambrières, or maidens, for they were not only a means of ostentation, but they were profitable, inasmuch as besides attending on the personal wants of their mistresses, they were constantly employed in spinning, weaving, and the various processes of producing cloth, in millinery and dress-making, in embroidery, and in a great number of similar labours, which were not only required for furnishing the large number of persons who depended upon their lord for their liveries, &c., but which were sometimes sold to obtain money, which was always a scarce thing in the country. The beauty of the pucelles, as they are often termed in the French text, or maidens, is also spoken of as a subject of pride. In a metrical story printed by Meon (ii. 38), a great lady receiving a female stranger into her household, became so much attached to her, “that she made more of her than of all her maidens, of whom,” it is added, “there were handsome ones in her chambers”— De li la dame fet grant feste,
Plus que de totes ses puceles,
Dont en ses chambres a de beles.
And so, in the romance of “Blonde of Oxford” (p. 30), when the countess went with her maidens to visit John, the remark is made that among them there were plenty of beauties:—

The usual age for sending a boy to foster appears to have been seven years. That was the age at which Fulke Fitz-Warine was sent to Joce de Dynan in Ludlow Castle. “The lady,” the narrative tells us, “became with child; when she was delivered, at the time ordained by God, they called the child Fulke. And when the child was seven years old, they sent it to Joce de Dynan to teach and nourish; for Joce was a knight of good accomplishment. Joce received him with great honour and great affection, and educated him in his chambers with his own children.” Fulke the younger, in the next generation, was taken as his foster-child by the king (Henry II.), and was nourished and educated with the young princes, of whom John, in the sequel, proved a bad foster-brother. The great barons sought to form alliances of this kind with the king, as well as with his great ministers and other men of power. In the romance of “Garin le Loherain” (vol. i. p. 62), king Pepin gives the two orphan sons of Hervis of Metz, Garin and Begon, as foster-children to the count Hardrés, and they thus become severally the foster-brothers, or, as they are termed in the old French, compains (companions), of his two sons, Begon being the foster-brother of Guillaume of Montclin, and Garin of Fromont. Although they belong to rival families, and are each other’s enemies through the turbulent scenes which form the subject of the story, the sentiment of the relationship by fostering often shows itself. This yearning after something beyond mere ordinary friendship seems to have been often felt in the middle ages, and led to various characteristic practices, among which one of the most remarkable was that of sworn brotherhood. Two men—they are generally knights—who felt a sufficiently strong sentiment towards each other, engaged, under the most solemn oaths, in a bond of fraternity for life, implying a constant and faithful friendship to each other. This practice enters largely into the plot of several of the mediæval romances, as in that of “Amis and Amiloun,” and in the curious English metrical romance of “King Athelston,” printed in the “Reliquiæ Antiquæ.” The desire for this true friendship was not unnaturally increased by the general prevalence of treacherous falsehood and hateful feuds. There is a beautiful passage in the romance of “Garin,” just quoted, which illustrates this sentiment, while it furnishes an interesting picture of domestic life. “One day,” we are told, “Begues was in his castle of Belin, and beside him sat the beautiful Beatris. The duke kissed her both on the mouth and on the cheeks, and very sweetly the duchess smiled. In the middle of the hall she saw her two sons, the eldest of whom was Garin, and the youngest was named Hernaudin; their ages were respectively twelve years, and ten. Along with them were six damoisels (gentlemen’s sons) of worth, and they were running and leaping together, and playing, and laughing, and making game. The duke looked at them, and began to sigh; which was observed by the lady, who questioned him—‘Ah! rich duke! why have you sorrowful thoughts? You have gold and silver in your coffers, falcons in plenty on your perches, and rich cloths, buildings, and mules, and palfreys, and baggage-horses; and you have crushed all your enemies. You have no neighbour within six days’ journey powerful enough to refuse to come to your service if you send for him.’ ‘Lady,’ said the duke, ‘what you say is true; but in one thing you have made a great oversight. Wealth consists neither in rich cloths, nor in money, nor in buildings, nor in horses but it is made of kinsmen and friends: the heart of one man is worth all the gold in a country.’”—

The incident of the younger, or even at times the elder, sons of feudal lords or landholders going to seek service is the groundwork of the romance of “Blonde of Oxford,” and of the story of “Courtois d’Arras,” printed by Meon in his collection of fabliaux and stories. The latter tale is a mediæval version of the scriptural story of the Prodigal Son. Youths of good family easily found service in this manner, and the service itself was not considered dishonourable, because lords and gentlemen admitted nobody to immediate attendance on their persons but sons of gentlemen—persons of as good blood as themselves. To be a good servant was a gentlemanly accomplishment, and the payment these gentlemanly servants received consisted ordinarily in their clothing and gifts of various kinds, rarely in money. I have already hinted that the intercourse between the male and female portions of the household was on a footing of familiarity and freedom, and at the same time on a tone of gallantry which could hardly produce a high degree of morality, but the details on this subject, though very abundant, are in great part of a description which cannot here be entered upon. This intercourse extended to what we should now call the privacy of the bed-chamber. It was usual, indeed, for the ladies to receive visits from the gentlemen, tête-à-tête, in their chamber. In the fabliau of “Guillaume au Faucon,” printed in Barbazan, the young “damoisel,” as the noble youth was usually termed, having fallen in love with the beautiful wife of the lord in whose service he was, took an opportunity of visiting her in her chamber, when he knew that all her maidens were employed in another part of the building. Without knocking, he opened the door gently, and found the lady sitting alone on her bed. The lady saluted him with “a sweet smile,” and told him to come in and sit on the bed by her side, and there “he laughed, and talked, and plaid with her, and the lady did the same”— Rit et parole et joe à li,
Et la dame tot autresi.
In the midst of these familiarities, Guillaume made his declaration of love, and was rejected, but his pursuit was ultimately successful. In another fabliau of the thirteenth century, that of “Gautier d’Aupais,” it is the daughter of his lord and lady with whom the young “damoisel” falls in love, and he takes the opportunity one morning, while the two latter are at church, to pay a visit to the young lady in her chamber. Although in bed on account of illness—and it has been already stated how people went to bed without any clothing—the lady is not surprised by Gautier’s visit, but invites him to sit on her bed, and tell her something to amuse her, and he finds the opportunity of making his love with more success than the hero of the other tale. In the same manner, the ladies are continually described as visiting the gentlemen in their chambers, both by day and by night. In “Blonde of Oxford,” a fashionable romance composed for the entertainment of the best society, Blonde thus leaves her bed, throwing only a mantle over her person, to pass whole nights with Jean of Dammartin, and their interviews are described in language which would not be allowed in any respectable book at the present day. The chevalier de la Tour-Landry, in his moral instructions to his daughters, tells them a story to illustrate the ill results of a quarrelsome temper. There was a young lady, he says, the daughter of “a very gentle knight,” who quarrelled at the game of tables with a gentleman who had no better temper than herself, and who, provoked by the irritating language she used towards him, told her that she was known to be in the habit of going by night into the men’s chambers, and kissing and embracing them in their beds without candle; and this is told, not in reproof of conduct which was unusually bad, but to show that people who speak ill of others run the risk of having their own failings exposed. Examples of this intercourse of persons of different sexes in their chambers, and of the results which frequently followed, from the mediæval romances and stories, might be multiplied to almost any extent.

In these stories, the ladies in general show no great degree of delicacy, but, on the contrary, they are commonly very forward. It is usual with them to fall in love with the other sex, and, so far from attempting to conceal their passion, they often become suitors, and make their advances with more warmth and less delicacy than is shown by the gentlemen in a similar position. Not only are their manners dissolute, but their language and conversation are loose beyond anything that those who have not read these interesting records of mediæval life can easily conceive, which was a common failing with both sexes. The author of the “Ménagier de Paris” (ii. 60), in recommending to his daughters some degree of modesty on this point, makes use of words which his modern editor, although printing a text in obsolete language, thought it advisable to suppress. It might be argued that the use of such language is evidence rather of the coarseness than of the immorality of the age, but, unfortunately, the latter interpretation is supported by the whole tenor of contemporary literature and anecdote, which leave no doubt that mediæval society was profoundly immoral and licentious.

On the other hand, the gallantry and refinement of feeling which the gentleman is made to show towards the other sex, is but a conventional politeness; for the ladies are too often treated with great brutality. Men beating their wives, and even women with whom they quarrel who are not their wives, is a common incident in the tales and romances. The chevalier de la Tour-Landry tells his daughters the story of a woman who was in the habit of contradicting her husband in public, and replying to him ungraciously, for which, after the husband had expostulated in vain, he one day raised his fist and knocked her down, and kicked her in the face while she was down, and broke her nose. “And so,” says the knightly instructor, “she was disfigured for life, and thus, through her ill behaviour and bad temper, she had her nose spoiled, which was a great misfortune to her. It would have been better for her to be silent and submissive, for it is only right that words of authority should belong to her lord, and the wife’s honour requires that she should listen in peace and obedience.” The good “chevalier” makes no remark on the husband’s brutality, as though it were by no means an unusual occurrence.

A trouvère of the thirteenth century, named Robert de Blois, compiled a code of instructions in good manners for young ladies in French verse, under the title of the “Chastisement des Dames,” which is printed by Barbazan, and forms a curious illustration of feudal domestic manners. It was unbecoming in a lady, according to Robert de Blois, to talk too much; she ought especially to refrain from boasting of the attentions paid to her by the other sex; and she was recommended not to show too much freedom in her games and amusements, lest the men should be encouraged to libertinism. In going to church, she was not to “trot or run,” but to walk seriously, not going in advance of her company, and looking straight before her, and not to this side or the other, but to salute “debonairely” all persons she met. She is recommended not to let men put their hands into her breasts, or kiss her on the mouth, as it might lead to greater familiarities. She was not to look at a man too much, unless he were her acknowledged lover; and when she had a lover, she was not to boast or talk too much of him. She was not to expose her body uncovered out of vanity, as her breast, or her legs, or her sides, nor to undress in the presence of men. She was not to be too ready in accepting presents from the other sex. The ladies are particularly warned against scolding and disputing, against swearing, against eating and drinking too freely at table, and against getting drunk, the latter being a practice from which much mischief might arise. A lady was not to cover her face when the went in public, as a handsome face was made to be seen, and it was not good manners to remain with the face covered before a gentleman of rank. An exception, however, is made in the case of ugly or deformed faces, which might be covered. There was another exception to the counsel just mentioned. “A lady who is pale-faced, or who has not a good smell, ought to breakfast early in the morning; for good wine gives a very good colour; and she who eats and drinks well must heighten her colour.” One who has bad breath is recommended to eat aniseed, fennel, and cumin to her breakfast, and to avoid breathing in people’s faces. A lady is to be very attentive to her behaviour in church, rules for which are given. If she could sing, she was to do so when asked, and not require too much pressing. Ladies are further recommended to keep their hands clean, to cut their nails often, and not to suffer them to grow beyond the finger, or to harbour dirt. In passing other people’s houses, ladies were not to look into them; “for a person often does things privately in his house, which he would not wish to be seen, if any one should come before his door.” For this reason, too, when a lady went into another person’s house, she is recommended to cough at the entrance, or to speak out loud, so that the inmates might not be taken by surprise. The directions for a lady’s behaviour at table are very particular. “In eating, you must avoid much laughing or talking. If you eat with another (i. e., in the same plate, or of the same mess), turn the nicest bits to him, and do not go picking out the finest and largest for yourself, which is not courteous. Moreover, no one should eat greedily a choice bit which is too large or too hot, for fear of choking or burning herself.... Each time you drink, wipe your mouth well, that no grease may go into the wine, which is very unpleasant to the person who drinks after you. But when you wipe your mouth for drinking, do not wipe your eyes or nose with the table-cloth, and avoid spilling from your mouth, or greasing your hands too much.” The lady is further, and particularly, recommended not to utter falsehoods. The remainder of the poem consist of directions in making love and receiving the addresses of suitors. The “Book” of the chevalier de la Tour-Landry contains instructions for young ladies, in substance very much like these, but illustrated by stories and examples.

The chamber-maidens also went abroad, like the young sons of gentlemen; but female servants who came as strangers appear not in general to have been well regarded, and they probably were, or were considered as, a lower class. The circumstance of their having left the country where they were known, was looked upon as prima facie evidence that their conduct had brought them into discredit there. The author of the “Ménagier de Paris” advises his daughter never to take any such chambrières, without having first sent to make strict inquiries about them in the parts from whence they came. This same early writer on domestic economy divides the servants, who, in a large household, were very numerous, into three classes: those who were employed on a sudden, and only for a certain work, with regard to whom the principal caution given is to bargain with them for the price of their labour before they begin; those who were employed for a certain time in a particular description of work, as tailors, shoemakers, butchers, and others, who always came to work in the house on materials belonging to the master of the house, or harvest-men, &c., in the country; and domestic servants who were hired by the year. These latter were expected to pay an absolute passive obedience to the lord and lady of the household, and to those set in authority by them. The lady of the house had the especial charge of the female servants, and the “Ménagier” contains rather minute directions as to her housekeeping duties. She was to require of the maid-servants, “that early in the morning the entrance to your hostel, that is, the hall, and the other places by which people enter and stop in the hostel to converse, be swept and made clean, and that the footstools and covers of the benches and forms be dusted and shaken, and after this that the other chambers be in like manner cleaned and arranged for the day.” They were next to attend to and feed all the “chamber animals,” such as pet dogs, cage birds, &c. The next thing to be done was to portion out to each servant her or his work for the day. At midday the servants were to have their first meal, when they were to be fed plentifully, but “only of one meat, and not of several or of any delicacies; and give them one only kind of drink, nourishing but not heady, whether wine or other; and admonish them to eat heartily, and to drink well and plentifully, for it is right that they should eat all at once, without sitting too long, and at one breath, without reposing on their meal, or halting, or leaning with their elbows on the table; and as soon as they begin to talk, or to rest on their elbows, make them rise, and remove the table.” After their “second labour,” and on feast-days, the servants were to have another, apparently a lighter, repast, and lastly, in the evening (au vespre), they were to have another abundant meal, like their dinner, and then, “if the season required it,” they were to be “warmed and made comfortable.” The lady of the house was then, by herself or a deputy on whom she could depend, to see that the house was closed, and to take charge of the keys, that nobody could go out or come in; and then to have all the fires carefully “covered,” and send all the servants to bed, taking care that they put out their candles properly, to prevent the risk of fire. In the English poem of the “Seven Sages,” printed by Weber, the emperor is described as going to his chamber, after the time of locking windows and gates— Whan men leke windowe and gate,
Themparour com to chambre late.
—Weber, iii. 60.
And it appears from a tale in the same collection, that the doors and windows were unlocked at daybreak—

There was another duty performed by the ladies in the mediæval household, which was a very important one in an age of turbulence, and must not be overlooked—they were both nurses and doctors. Medical men were not then at hand to be consulted, and the sick or wounded man was handed over to the care of the mistress of the house and her maidens. The reader of Chaucer will remember the medicinal knowledge displayed by dame Pertelot in the “Nonne-Prestes Tale.” Medicinal herbs were grown in every garden, and were dried or made into decoctions, and kept for use. In the early romances we often meet with ladies who possessed plants and other objects which possessed the power of miraculous cures, and which they had obtained in some mysterious manner. Thus, in the Carlovingian romance of “Gaufrey,” when Robastre was so dangerously wounded that there remained no hope of his life, the good wife of the traitor Grifon undertook to cure him. “And she went to a coffer and opened it, and took out of it a herb which has so great virtue that whoever takes it will be relieved from all harm. She pounded and mixed it in a mortar, and then came to Robastre and gave it him. It had no sooner passed his throat than he was as sound as an apple” (“Gaufrey,” p. 119). So in “Fierabras” (p. 67), the Saracen princess Floripas had in her chamber the powerful “mandeglore” (mandrake), which she applied to the wounds of Oliver, and they were instantly healed. In the “Roman de la Violette” (p. 104), when Gerart, desperately wounded, is carried into the castle, the maiden who was lady of it took him into a chamber, and there took off his armour, undressed him, and put him to bed. They examined all his wounds, and applied to them ointments of great efficacy, and under this treatment he soon recovered. In the English romance of “Amis and Amiloun,” when sir Amiloun is discovered struck with leprosy, the wife of his friend Amis takes him into her chamber, strips him of all his clothing, bathes him herself, and then puts him to bed— Into hir chaumber she can him lede,
And kest of al his pover wede (poor clothes),
And bathed his bodi al bare;
And to a bedde swithe (quickly) him brought,
With clothes riche and wele ywrought;
Ful blithe of him thai ware.
—Weber, ii. 459.
To the knowledge of medicines was too often added another knowledge, that of poisons—a science which was carried to a great degree of perfection in the middle ages, and of which there were regular professors. The practice of poisoning was, indeed, carried on to a frightful extent, and it appears, from a variety of evidence, that women were commonly agents in it.

A great part of the foregoing remarks apply exclusively to the aristocratic portion of society, which included all those who had the right to become knights. Through the whole extent of this portion of society one blood was believed to run, which was distinguished from that of all other classes by the title of “gentle blood.” The pride of gentle blood, which was one of the distinguishing characteristics of feudalism, was very great in the middle ages. It was believed that the mark of this blood could never disappear; and many of the mediæval stories turn upon the circumstance of a child of gentle blood having been stolen or abandoned in its earlier infancy, and bred up, without any knowledge of its origin, as a peasant among peasants, or as a burgher among burghers, but displaying, as it grew towards manhood, by its conduct, the unmistakable proofs of its gentle origin, in spite of education and example. The burgher class—the merchant or tradesman, or the manufacturer—appear always as money-getting and money-saving people, and individuals often became very rich. This circumstance became a temptation, on the one hand, to the aristocrat, whose tendency was usually, through his prodigality, to become poor, and, on the other, to the rich man of no blood, who sought to buy aristocratic alliances by his wealth, and intermarriages between the two classes were not very unfrequent. In most cases, at least in the romances and stories, it was an aristocratic young lady who became united with a wealthy merchant, and it was usually a stroke of selfish policy on the part of the lady’s father. In the fabliau of the “Vilain Mire” (Barbazan, ii. 1)—the origin of Molière’s “Médecin malgré lui,”—and in one or two other old stories, the aristocratic young lady is married to an agriculturist. Marriages of this description are represented as being never happy; the husband has no sympathy for his wife’s gentility, and, according to the code of “chivalry,” the lady was perfectly justified in being unfaithful to her husband as often as the liked, especially if she sinned with men who were superior to him in blood.

It was common for the burgher class to ape gentility, even among people of a lower order; for the great merchant was often superior in education and in intelligence, as he was in wealth, to the great majority of the aristocratic class. In Chaucer, even the wife of the miller aspired to the aristocratic title of madame— Ther durste no wight clepe (call) hir but madame.
—Cant. Tales, l. 3954.
And in speaking of the wives of various burghers who joined in the pilgrimage, the poet remarks— It is right fair for to be clept (called) madame.
—Ibid., l. 378.
The burghers also cherished a number of servants and followers in their household, or mesnie. In the fabliau of “La Borgoise d’Orliens,” the mesnie of the burgher, who is not represented as a person of wealth or distinction, consists of two nephews, a lad who carried water, three chamber-maidens, a niece, two pautoniers, and a ribald, and these were all harboured in the hall. The pautonier was only another name for the ribald, or perhaps it was a sub-class or division of the infamous class who lived parasitically upon the society of the middle ages. Even the ordinary agriculturist had his mesnie.

What I have said of the great dissoluteness and immorality of the aristocratic class applies more especially to the households of the greater barons, though the same spirit must have spread itself far through the whole class. The aristocratic class was itself divided into two classes, or rather two ranks,—the great barons, and the knights and lesser landholders, and the division between these two classes became wider, and the latter more absolutely independent, as the power of feudalism declined. These latter were the origin of that class which in more modern times has been known by the title of the old country gentleman. As far as we can judge from what we know of them, I am led to think that this class was the most truly dignified, and in general the most moral, portion of mediæval society. There is abundant evidence that the tone of morality in the burgher and agricultural classes was not high; and the whole tenor of mediæval popular and historical literature can leave no doubt on our minds that in the middle ages the clergy were the great corruptors of domestic virtue among both these classes. The character of the women, as described in the old satirists and story-tellers, as well as in records of a still more strictly truthful character, was very low, and, in the towns especially, they are described as spending much of their time in the taverns, drinking and gossiping. Of course there were everywhere—and, it is to be trusted, not a few—bright exceptions to this general character.

CHAPTER XIII.
OCCUPATIONS OUT OF DOORS.—THE PLEASURE-GARDEN.—THE LOVE OF FLOWERS, AND THE FASHION OF MAKING GARLANDS.—FORMALITIES OF THE PROMENADE.—GARDENING IN THE MIDDLE AGES.

Humboldt, in his “Cosmos,” has dwelt on the taste for the beauties of nature which has prevailed among various peoples, and at different periods of the world’s history, but he appears to me to have by no means appreciated or done justice to the force of this sentiment among our forefathers in the middle ages, and, perhaps I may say, especially in England. In our ancient popular poetry, the mention of the season of the year at which an event happens generally draws from the poet some allusion to the charms of nature peculiar to it, to the sweetness of the flowers, the richness of the fruit, or the harmony of the song of birds. In some of the early romances, each new division of the poem is introduced by an allusion of this kind. Thus, at the opening of what the editor calls the first chapter of the second part of the romance of “Richard Cœur de Lion,” the poet tells us how it— Merye is in the tyme of May,
Whenne foulis synge in her lay;
Floures on appyl-trees and perye (pear-tree);
Smale foules synge merye.
Ladyes strowe here boures (chambers)
With rede roses and lylye flowres;
Gret joye is in frith (grove) and lake.
—Weber, ii. 149.
Such interruptions of the narrative are frequent in the long romance of “Alexander” (Alexander the Great), and are always expressive. Thus, on one occasion the poet tells us, abruptly enough, how— Whan corn ripeth in every steode (place),
Mury (pleasant) it is in feld and hyde (meadow).
—Ibid., i. 24.
And again, introduced equally abruptly, we are informed—

When, indeed, we consider the confined and dark character of most of the apartments of the feudal dwelling, we cannot be surprised if our mediæval forefathers loved the recreations which brought them into the open air. Castles and country mansions had always their gardens and pleasure-grounds, which were much frequented by all the different branches of the household. The readers of Chaucer will remember the description of the “noble” knight January— Amonges other of his honest thinges,
He had a gardyn walled al with stoon,
So fair a gardyn wot I no wher noon.
It is implied, at least, that this garden was extensive, and— This noble knight, this January the olde,
Such deynté hath in it to walk and playe,
That he wold no wight suffre bere the keye,
Save he himself.
—Chaucer, The Marchaundes Tale.
So, in the curious popular collection of mediæval stories, entitled the “Seven Sages,” we are told of a rich burgess who Hadde, bihinden his paleys,
A fair gardin of nobleys,
Ful of appel-tres, and als (also) of pirie (pear-trees);
Foules songe therinne murie.
Amideward that gardyn fre,
So wax (grew) a pinnote-tre,
That hadde fair bowes and frut;
Ther under was al his dedut (pleasure).
He made ther-under a grene bench,
And drank ther under many a sschench (cupful).
—Weber, iii. 23.
And again, in the same collection of stories, a prudent mother, counselling her daughter, tells her— Daughter, thi loverd (lord) hath a gardin,
A wel fair ympe (young tree) is tharin;
A fair harbeth (arbour) hit overspredeth,
Alle his solas therinne he ledeth.
—Weber, iii. 69.
In Chaucer’s “Frankeleynes Tale,” when the lady Dorigen was in want of amusement to make her forget the absence of her husband, her friends, finding that the sea-shore was not sufficiently gay,— Schope hem for to pleien somwhere elles,
They leden hire by rivers and by welles,
And eke in other places delitables;
They dauncen, and they pley at ches and tables.
So on a day, right in the morwe tide,
Unto a gardeyn that was ther beside,
In which that they had made her ordinance
Of vitaile, and of other purveance,
They gon and plaie hem al the longe day:
And this was on the sixte morwe of May,
Which May had painted with his softe schoures
This gardeyn ful of leves and of floures:
And craft of mannes hond so curiously
Arrayed had this gardeyn of suche pris
As if it were the verray paradis.
* * * * *
And after dinner gan thay to daunce
And singe also; sauf Dorigen alone.
An important incident in the story here occurs, after which—

It would be easy to multiply such descriptions as the foregoing, but we will only refer to the well-known one at the commencement of the “Romance of the Rose,” where the carolling is described with more minuteness than usual. There were employed minstrels, and “jogelours,” and apparently even tumblers, which are thus described in Chaucer’s English version:— Tho (then) myghtist thou karoles sene,
And folk daunce and mery bene,
And made many a faire tournyng
Upon the grene gras springyng.
There myghtist thou se these flowtours,
Mynstrales and eke jogelours,
That wel to synge dide her peyne,
Somme songe songes of Loreyne;
For in Loreyn her notes bee
Fulle swetter than in this contré.
There was many a tymbester,
And saillouris (jumpers, or tumblers), that I dar wel swere
Couthe (knew) her craft ful parfitly,
The tymbris up ful sotilly
They caste and hente fulle ofte
Upon a fynger faire and softe,
That they ne failide never mo.
Ful fetys damyseles two,
Ryght yonge, and fulle of semelyhede,
In kirtles and noon other wede,
And faire tressed every tresse,
Hadde Myrthe doon for his noblesse
Amydde the karole for to daunce.
But herof lieth no remembraunce
How that they daunced queyntly,
That oon wolde come alle pryvyly
Agayn that other, and whan they were
Togidre almost, they threwe yfere (in company)
Her mouthis so, that thorough her play
It semed as they kiste alway.
To dauncen welle koude they the gise,
What shulde I more to you devyse?
These lines show us that our forefathers in the middle ages had their dancing girls, just as they had and still have them in the East; it was one trait of the mixture of Oriental manners with those of Europe which had taken place since the crusades.

In these extracts, indeed, we have allusions to the practices of dancing and singing, of playing at chess and tables, of drinking, and even of dining, in the gardens. Our engraving No. 194, taken from the romance of “Alexander,” in the Bodleian Library, represents a garden scene, in which two royal personages are playing at chess. Dancing in the open air was a very common recreation, and is not unfrequently alluded to. In the Roman de Geste, known by the title of “La Mort de Garin,” a large dinner party is given in a garden— Les napes metent pardeanz un jardin.
—Mort de Garin, p. 28.
And, in the “Roman de Berte” (p. 4), Charles Martel is represented as dining similarly in the garden, at the midsummer season, when the rose was in blossom—

There is an early Latin story of a man who had a cross-grained wife. One day he invited some friends to dinner, and set out his table in his garden, by the side of a river (fecit poni mensam in hortu suo prope aquam). The lady seated herself by the water-side, at a little distance from the table, and cast a very forbidding look upon her husband’s guests; upon which he said to her, “Show a pleasant countenance to our guests, and come nearer the table;” but she only moved further off, and nearer the brink of the river, with her back turned to the water. He repeated his invitation in a more angry tone, in reply to which, to show her ill-humour, she drew further back, with a quick movement of ill-temper, through which, forgetting the nearness of the river, she fell into it, and was drowned. The husband, pretending great grief, sent for a boat, and proceeded up the stream in search of her body. This excited some surprise among his neighbours, who suggested to him that he should go down the stream, and not up. “Ah!” said he, “you did not know my wife—she did everything in contradiction, and I firmly believe that her body has floated against the current, and not with it.”

Even among the aristocratic class the garden was often the place for giving audience and receiving friends. In the romance of “Garin le Loherain,” a messenger sent to the count Fromont, one of the great barons, finds him sitting in a garden surrounded by his friends—

A favourite occupation of the ladies in the middle ages was making garlands and chaplets of flowers. In the “Lai d’Aristote” (Barbazan, iii. 105, 107), king Alexander’s beautiful mistress is described as descending early in the morning, walking in the garden alone, and making herself a chaplet of flowers. In another fabliau, published in Germany by Adelbert Keller, a Saracenic maiden descends from her chamber into the garden, performs her toilette at the fountain there, and then makes herself a chaplet of flowers and leaves, which she puts on her head. So Emelie, in Chaucer’s “Knights Tale,”— Iclothed was sche fressh for to devyse.
Hire yolwe (yellow) heer was browdid in a tresse
Byhynde hire bak, a yerde long, I gesse.
And in the gardyn at the sonne uprise (sun-rise)
Sche walketh up and doun wheer as hire liste;
Sche gadereth floures, partye whyte and reede,
To make a certeyn gerland for hire heede,
And as an aungel hevenly sche song.
A little further on, Arcyte goes at daybreak into the fields to make him a chaplet, of the leaves of woodbine or hawthorn, for it must be remembered that this takes place in the month of May, which was especially the season for wearing garlands. In “Blonde of Oxford,” Jean of Dammartin, seeking his mistress, finds her in a meadow making herself a chaplet of flowers— A dont de la chambre s’avance,
De là le vit en i. prael
U ele faisoit un capiel.
—Blonde of Oxford, p. 30.
Our cut No. 195, taken from a well-known manuscript in the British Museum, of the beginning of the fourteenth century (MS. Reg. 2 B. vii.), represents a party of ladies in the garden, gathering flowers, and making garlands. The love of flowers, as I have stated in a former chapter, seems to have prevailed generally among our Anglo-Saxon forefathers, and affectionate allusions to them occur, not unfrequently, in the literary remains of that early period. Many of our old favourite garden-flowers are, I believe, derived from the Anglo-Saxon gardens. Proofs of a similar attachment to flowers might be quoted in abundance from the writings of the periods subsequent to the entrance of the Normans. The wearing of garlands or chaplets of flowers was a common practice with both sexes. In the romantic history of the Fitz-Warines, written in the thirteenth century, the hero, in travelling, meets a young knight who, in token of his joyous humour, carries a chaplet of flowers on his head. In the later English romance of the “Squyer of Lowe Degree,” when the “squyer” was preparing to do his office of carver in the hall— There he araied him in scarlet red,
And set a chaplet upon his hed;
A belte about his sydes two,
White brod barres to and fro.
Walter de Biblesworth talks of ladies dancing the carole, their heads crowned with garlands of the blue-bottle flower— Mener karole
Desouz chapeau de blaverole.
—Vocabularies, p. 161.
Garlands of flowers were also the common rewards for success in the popular games.