Chapter V · SURNAMES OF OCCUPATION. (TOWN). (continued 2)
Reading edition
The firste worde that he warpe
Was, ‘Were is the bolle?’
‘William le Cuppere’ and ‘Richard le Kuppere,’ while engaged in the same occupation, are, speaking surnominally, absorbed, I doubt not, by our ‘Coopers’ and ‘Cowpers.’ ‘Copper’ may be but another antique form of the same. Langland speaks of—
Coupes of clere gold
And coppes of silver.
I shall have occasion almost immediately to mention Chaucer, as speaking of ‘turning cups,’ which would seem to infer that they too were often made of wood.
Another name once existing was that of ‘Doubler,’ a maker or seller of the ‘doubler’ or ‘dobeler,’ or dish; a term derived from the French ‘doublier.’ The word is still in use in the North of England,[397] and both ‘Doubler’ and ‘Doubleman’ are in our directories of to-day. The name of ‘Scutelaire’ must be set here also, though when we think of our modern coalscuttle we might imagine it somewhat of an interloper. A change, however, has come over the stricter meaning of the word. A ‘scutel’ was formerly nothing more nor less than a wooden or metallic dish or platter used on our early dressoirs for culinary purposes. It seems ever to have had its place in the dining-hall, for in the household expenses of Bishop Swinfield (Camden Soc.) we find the entry, ‘xv. scutellis, xvii. 390salsariis.’ The learned editor of this book, commenting upon this passage, says, ‘“scutella” is a word of somewhat extensive application to dishes or platters, saucers or salvers, and it is retained in our present English “scuttle.”’ I doubt not with him that while ‘scutum,’ a shield, is the root, the term is here intended to refer to the large flat spoons or plates used for the sauce-dishes. It is from his resemblance to these that some wide-mouthed country bumpkin is set down in the Hundred Rolls as ‘Arnold Scutelmuth,’ while the occupation of making them finds its memorial in the Rolls of Parliament in such a sobriquet as ‘James le Scutelaire.’ Speaking, however, of the dining table, we may here mention the cutler. Of such a name as ‘Henry Knyfesmythe’ I have already had occasion to hint. The cutler enjoyed, or perhaps I ought to say was the victim of, a very uncertain orthography in mediæval times, and some of the forms found are extremely curious. I may cite such personages as ‘Richard le Cutyler,’ ‘John le Cotiler,’ ‘Peter le Cotyler,’ ‘Henry le Coteler,’ or ‘Solomon le Cotiller’ as representative of those which were then most in vogue. All are now content, it would seem, to be absorbed in the simple ‘Cutler.’ Strange to say, I cannot find a single ancestor of our familiar ‘Spooner.’ A mediæval rhymester, however, speaks of ‘sponers, turners, and hatters.’ With many of these names I have just mentioned the ironmonger would have much to do. The uncertain form of the term used for this material gave rise to three familiar words, those of ‘iron,’ ‘ise,’ or ‘ire.’ Trevisa speaks of England as being plenteous in ‘veynes of metayls, of 391bras, of yre, of leed, of tyn, of selver.’[398] Thus while ‘Henry le Ironmonger’ dealt, as no one of my readers will doubt, in vessels and utensils of the material his name suggests, it is not to be supposed that ‘Geoffrey le Iremonger’ or ‘William le Irremongere’ was but a cant nickname for one of splenetic temperament; or that in ‘Isabel le Isemonger’ or ‘Agnes la Ismongere’ we have traces of any disposition for those frozen creams which in the hot summer time we of the nineteenth century are so glad to seek on the confectioner’s counter. All alike were hardware manufacturers. The present forms are ‘Iremonger,’ ‘Irmonger,’ and ‘Ironmonger.’
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 392baked 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 393therefore, 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 394man 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 395composition, 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 396frequent 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 397coffins, 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 398the 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—
Then when this bottle doth grow old,
And will no longer good liquor hold,
Out of its side you may take a clout,
Will mend your shoes when they are worn out.
Thus we see that the ‘Botiller’ was, after all, in some cases but identical with the old pouch-maker, represented in our old rolls by such folk as ‘Henry Poucher’ or ‘Agnes Pouchmaker.’ Another and more Norman term for this latter was that of ‘Burser’ or ‘Purser,’ though in later days both forms have come to occupy a more official position. Such names as ‘Alard le Burser’ or ‘Robert le Pursere’ are of frequent occurrence. Nor, again, while speaking of leather, can we omit a reference to the old ‘Henry Male-maker,’ who made up travelling bags. ‘Cocke Lorelle’ mentions—
Masones, male-makers, and merbelers,
Tylers, brycke-leyers, and harde-hewers.
The modern postal mail has but extended its earlier use. We may remember in the ‘Canterbury Tales’ 399so pleased were the company at the end of the first story, that the host said—
Unbuckled is the male,
Let see now who shall tell another tale,
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 400Orfevre’ 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,
And wrote alway the names, as he stood,
Of alle folk that gave them any good.
It is in a yet larger sense of this same word our early translators introduced the phrase ‘tables of stone,’ found in the Mosaic record—not, however, that the smaller ‘tablet’ was unknown. Apart from such a 401registration as ‘Bartholomew le Tabler,’ found in the London Rolls (1320), we have mentioned as living in Cambridge in 1322 one ‘Richard le Tableter.’[412] We can readily understand how useful would be his occupation to the students, who were thus provided with a writing material capable of erasure, at a time when paper was infinitely too expensive to be simply scribbled upon.[413] The pointel, or pencil, mentioned above, seems to have required also a separate manufacture, as we find the surnames ‘Roger Poyntel’ and ‘John Poyntel’ occurring in 1315 and 1319, the latter the same date within a year as the ‘Tabler’ just referred to. These tablets, I need not say, were, whether the framework were ivory, or box, or cyprus, overlaid with smeared wax, the pointel being, as its name more literally implies, the stile with which the characters were impressed. The pointel was a common ornament and hung pendent from the neck.
Two surnames far from being uninteresting must be mentioned here. They are those of ‘Walter Orlogyr’[414] and ‘Thomas Clokmaker,’ the one being found in the ‘Guild of St. George, Norwich’ (1385), the other in the ‘Proceedings and Ordinances of the 402Privy Council.’[415] It is just possible also that ‘Clerkwright,’ set down in the former record, may be but a misspelling or misreading for ‘Clockwright.’ The two first-mentioned names remind us that if not of clocks, as now understood, yet the manufacture of dials did make a transient mark upon our English nomenclature. I say transient, for I find no trace of either being handed down even to the second generation by those who took these sobriquets. The ‘horologe’ seems to have become a pretty familiar term in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, for we find Wicklyffe translating 2 Kings xx. 11, ‘Isaye the profete clepide ynwardly the Lord, and browgte agen bacward by x degrees the schadewe bi lynes, bi whiche it hadde gone down thanne in the orologie of Achaz.’ The transition from clocks to bells is not a great one, as both have to do with the marking of time. I will here therefore refer to the old bellfounder, and then pass on. The ‘Promptorium Parvulorum’ gives us ‘Bellezeter’ as the then usual term for the trade, and from the occurrence of such entries as ‘Robert le Belzetere’ or ‘William le Belzetere’ we cannot doubt but that it was so. Of course a corruption of so awkward a word was inevitable, and Stow, by informing us that ‘Billiter Lane’ was formerly nothing more nor less than ‘Belzetars Lane,’ has prevented dispute from arising regarding the origin of our ‘Billiters.’[416] If, however, further proof 403were necessary, we could bring forward ‘Esmon Belleyeter’ from the Privy Council Ordinances.[417] Stripped of its uncouth orthography, we are here shown the process by which the changed pronunciation gradually came into use.
We must say a word or two about former coinage, and weights and measures, for all are more or less carefully memorialized in our directories of to-day. The two chief names, however, by which the early scale was represented, ‘le Aunserer’ and ‘le Balancer,’ are, I am sorry to say, either wholly, or all but wholly, extinct. Such entries as ‘Rauf le Balancer’[418] or ‘John Balauncer’ or ‘Thomas le Aunseremaker’ were perfectly familiar with our forefathers. The ‘balance’ was of the simplest character, a scale poised by the hand. The manufacture of such is mentioned by the author of ‘Cocke Lorelle’s Bote,’ when he includes—
Arowe-heders, maltemen, and cornemongers,
Balancers, tynne-casters, and skryveners.
By its repeated occurrence in our present Authorized Version this word is sure of preservation from obsoletism. The ‘auncel’ or ‘auncer’ was strictly 404the vessel in which the provisions were weighed. Piers Plowman says—
And the pound that she paied by
Peised a quatron moore
Than myn owene auncer.
In an appraisement of goods in 1356 mention is made, among other chattels, of ‘one balance called an auncer.’[419] Thus our somewhat rare ‘Ansers’ are not such geese as they look! Our modern notion of the Mint is that of a place where with a certain amount of State secrecy our money is coined and sent forth. Nothing of this kind existed formerly: each considerable town had its own mint, and even barons and bishops, subject to royal superintendence, could issue coin. Thus it is that we meet with more or less frequency such a name as ‘Nicholas le Cuner,’ from the old ‘cune’ or ‘coin;’ or ‘John le Meneter,’ or ‘John Monemakere,’ or ‘William le Moneur,’ or ‘William le Mynsmith,’ mint-smith, that is; and thus it is our present ‘Moniers’ or ‘Moneyers’ and ‘Minters’ have arisen. Our ‘Stampers’ remind us of the chief feature of coinage, the die. The system being thus general, and subject to but an uncertain and irregular supervision, abuse of alloy crept in, and it was to remedy this, it is said, our ‘Testers’ and 405‘Sayers,’ corrupted from assayers, were appointed. ‘Sayer’ or ‘Sayers,’ however, I have elsewhere derived differently, and in most cases I feel confident the account there given is more approximate to the truth.
Literature and art in regard to the market are not without their relics. So far as the outside of books was concerned, our former ‘John le Bokbinders’ or ‘Dionisia le Bokebynders’ are sufficiently explicit. These, judging from their date, we must suppose to have bound together leathern documents and parchments of value, or books of manuscript. Speaking of parchment, however, we are reminded of the importance of this for testamentary and other legal purposes. Thus we find such names as ‘Stephen le Parchemyner’ or ‘William le Parchemynere’ to be common at this time. They afford but one more instance of an important and familiar name failing of descent. In the York Pageant, mentioned elsewhere, the ‘Parchemyners’[420] and ‘Bukbynders’ marched together.[421]
The old sealmaker, an important tradesman in a 406day when men were much better known by their crests than now, left its mark in the early ‘Seler.’ In the ‘Issues of the Exchequer’ we find a certain ‘Hugh le Seler’ commissioned to make a new seal for the See of Durham. The modern form is ‘Sealer.’ Professional writers and copiers were common. The calling of scribe has given us our many ‘Scrivens’ and ‘Scriveners,’ descendants of the numerous ‘William le Scrivayns’ and ‘John le Scrivryns’ of our mediæval rolls. Piers Plowman employs the word—
I wel noght scorne, quoth Scripture,
But if scryveynes lye.
Our ‘Writers’ are but the Saxon form of the same, while ‘le Cirograffer’ would seem to represent the Greek. A ‘William le Cirograffer’ occurs in the Hundred Rolls. As a writer of indentures he is frequently mentioned. An act passed in the first year of Edward IV. speaks of such officers as ‘clerk of our council, clerk or keeper of oure Hanaper, office of cirograffer, and keeper of oure Wills.’[422] Employed in the skilled art of text-letter we may next mention such men as ‘Godfrey le Lomynour’ or ‘Ralph Illuminator’ or ‘Thomas Liminer.’ A poem, already quoted more than once, makes reference to—
Parchemente makers, skynners, and plowers,
Barbers, Boke-bynders, and lyminers.[423]
How beautiful were the decorations and devices upon 407which they spent their care, some of the missals and other service books of this early period show.[424] This, I need scarcely add, was a favourite monastic pursuit. I do not know that ‘Limner’ still exists as a surname, unless it be in our ‘Limmers.’ That it lingered on in its more correct form till the beginning of the eighteenth century is certain, as the Tostock register serves to show, for it is there recorded that ‘John Limner of Chevington, and Eliz. Sibbes of this town, were married, August 22nd, 1700.’ (Sibbes’ ‘Works,’ vol. i. p. cxlii.)
Before closing this necessarily hurried résumé of mediæval trade, we must say a word or two about early shipping. We have mentioned certain articles, especially those of spicery and wines, which were then used, as the result of foreign merchant enterprise. Much of all this came as the growth and produce of the opposite Continent. Much again reached our shore brought hither from Eastern lands in caravan and caravel by Venetian traders. Our ‘Marchants,’ ‘Merchants,’ or ‘le Marchants,’ we doubtless owe to this more extended commerce. Apart from these, however, we are far from being without names of a more seafaring nature. It is a strange circumstance that our now one general term of ‘sailor’ had in the days we are considering but the barest existence surnominally or colloquially. In the former respect I only find it twice, the instances being those of ‘John 408le Saillur’ and ‘Nicholas le Saler,’ both to be found in the Hundred Rolls. It may be said to be a word of entirely modern growth. The expression then in familiar use was ‘Shipman,’[425] and ‘Shipman’ is the surname best represented in our nomenclature. It is by this name one of Chaucer’s company at the Tabard is pictured forth—
A Shipman ther was woned far by West,
He knew wel alle the havens as they were,
Fro’ Gotland to the Cape de Finisterre,
And every creke, in Bretagne, and in Spaine;
His barge ycliped was the ‘Magdelaine.’
This, intended doubtless to set forth the wide extent of his adventure, would seem cramped enough for the seafarer of the nineteenth century. The word itself lingered on for some length of time, being found both in our Homilies and in the Authorized Version, but seems to have declined towards the end of the seventeenth century. ‘Henry le Mariner’s’ name still lives among us, sometimes being found in the abbreviated form of ‘Marner,’ and ‘Shipper’ or ‘Skipper’ is not as yet obsolete. The strictly speaking feminine ‘Shipster’ comes in the quaint old poem of ‘Cocke Lorelle’s Bote,’ where mention is made among others of—
Gogle-eyed Tomson, shipster of Lyn.
‘Cogger,’ found in such an entry as ‘Hamond le Cogger’ or ‘Henry le Cogger,’ carries us back to the 409old ‘cogge’ or fishing smack, a term very familiar on the east coast, and one not yet altogether obsolete. It seems to have been often used to carry the soldiery across the Channel to France and the Low Country border, or even further.[426] Our cockswain was, I doubt not, he who attended to the tiller of the boat. We still speak also of a cock-boat, written in the ‘Promptorium Parvulorum’ as ‘cog bote,’ and doubtless it was originally some smaller craft that waited upon and attended the other. Thus it is highly probable that ‘le Cockere’ may in some instances have been but equivalent to ‘le Cogger.’[427] ‘Richard le Botsweyn,’ ‘Edward Botswine,’ ‘Peter Boatman,’ ‘Jacob Boatman,’ or the more local ‘Gerard de la Barge,’ are all still familiar enough in an occupative sense, but surnominally have been long extinct, with the exception of the last.[428]
Coming to port, whether it were York, or Kingston, or Chester, or London, we find ‘Adam le 410Waterman,’ or ‘Richard Waterbearer,’ or ‘William le Water-leder’ busy enough by the waterside.[429] The latter term, however, was far the commonest in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. I have already mentioned the sense of ‘lead’ at this time, that of carrying. Piers Plowman, to quote but one more instance, says in one place—
With Lumbardes letters
I ladde gold to Rome,
And took it by tale there.
In the York Pageant of 1415 we find two separate detachments of these water-leaders in procession, one in conjunction with the bakers, the other with the cooks. It would be doubtless these two classes of shopkeepers their duties of carrying stores, especially flour, to and from the different vessels would bring them in contact with most. Our ‘Leaders,’ ‘Leeders,’ ‘Leders,’ and ‘Loders’ are either the more general carrier or an abbreviated form of the above.[430] ‘Gager,’ though rarely met with now, is a descendant of 411‘William le Gageour,’ or ‘Alexander le Gauger,’ or ‘Henry le Gaugeour,’ of many a mediæval record. His office was to attend to the King’s revenue at our seaports, and though not strictly so confined, yet his duties were all but entirely concerned in the measurement of liquids, such as oil, wine, honey.[431] The tun, the pipe, the tierce, the puncheon, casks and barrels of a specified size—these came under his immediate supervision, and the royal fee was accordingly. Such a name as ‘Josceus le Peisur,’ now found as ‘Poyser’ or ‘Henry le Waiur,’ that is, ‘Weigher,’[432] met with now also in the form of ‘Weightman,’ represented the passage of more solid merchandise. The old form of ‘poise’ was ‘peise.’ Piers Plowman makes Covetousness to confess—
I lerned among Lumbardes
And Jewes a lesson,
To weye pens with a peis,
And pare the heaviest.
412Richard in ‘Richard the III.’ finely says—
I’ll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap,
Lest leaden slumber peise me down to-morrow.
(Act v. scene 3.)
With the above, therefore, we must associate our ‘Tollers,’ once registered as ‘Bartholomew le Tollere’ or ‘Ralph le Toller,’ together with our ‘Tolemans’ and ‘Tolmans,’ they who took the King’s levy at fair and market—by the roadside and the wharf.[433] Piers Plowman, in a list of other decent folk, includes—
Taillours and tynkers,
And tollers in markettes,
Masons and mynours,
And many other crafts.
Cocke Lorelle is not so complimentary. He says—
Then come two false towlers in nexte,
He set them by pykers (thieves) of the beste.[434]
In concluding this chapter, and our survey of trade generally, it will be necessary to the completion thereof that we should say a word or two about the money trading of four hundred years ago or more. Banks, bank-notes, bills of exchange, drafts to order—all these are as familiar to the tongues of the nineteenth century as if the great car of commerce had ever gone along on such greased and comfortable 413wheels. But I need not say it is not so. Very little money in the present day is practically coin. Our banks have it all. It was different with our ancestors. As a rule it was stored up in some secret cupboard or chest. Hence it is, as I have shown, the trade of ‘le Coffer’ and the office of ‘le Cofferer’ are so much thrust before our notice in surveying mediæval records. Still, trading in money was largely carried on, so far, at any rate, as loans were concerned. The Jew, true to his national precedents, was then, I need not say, the pawnbroker of Europe, and as his disciple, the Lumbard soon bid fair to outstrip his master. Under the Plantagenet dynasty both found a prosperous field for their peculiar business in England, and, as I have elsewhere said, Lombard Street[435] to this day is a memorial of the settlement of the latter. In such uncertain and changeful times as these, kings, and in their train courtiers and nobles, soon learnt the art, not difficult in initiation, of pawning jewels and lands for coin. The Malvern Dreamer speaks familiarly of this—
I have lent lordes
And ladies my chaffare,
And been their brocour after,
And bought it myselve;
Eschaunges and chevysaunces
With such cheffare I dele.
This species of commerce is early marked by such names as ‘Henry le Chaunger’ or ‘Adam le Chevestier,’[436] 414while still better-known terms are brought to our notice by entries like ‘John le Banckere,’ ‘Roger le Bencher,’ ‘Thomas le Brokur,’ or ‘Simon le Brokour.’ Holinshed, in the form of ‘brogger,’ has the latter to denote one who negotiated for coin. As ‘Broggers,’ too, we met them in the York Pageant. There, probably, they would transact much of the business carried on between ourselves and the Dutch in the shipping off of fleeces, or the introduction of the cloth again from the Flemish manufacturers.[437] The pawnbroker of modern days, dealing in petty articles of ware, was evidently an unknown personage at the date we are considering. The first distinctive notice of him I can light upon is in the ‘Statutes of the Realm’ of the Stuart period. It will be there found that (chapter xxi.) James I., speaking of the change from the old broker into the more modern pawnbroker, refers to the former as one who went ‘betweene Merchant Englishe and Merchant Strangers, and Tradesmen in the contrivinge, makinge and concluding Bargaines and Contractes to be made betweene them concerning their wares and merchandises,’ and then adds that he ‘never of any ancient tyme used to buy and sell garments, household stuffe, or to take pawnes 415and bills of sale of garments and apparele, and all things that come to hand for money, laide out and lent upon usury, or to keepe open shoppes, and to make open shewes, and open trade, as now of late yeeres hathe and is used by a number of citizens, etc.’
Appendix to Chapters IV. and V.
It will perchance help to familiarize the reader with the manner in which the occupative names contained in the two preceding chapters arose, if I transcribe several lists of tradesmen which have come across my notice while engaged in the work of collecting surnames for my index. The first is found in most of the Yorkshire County Histories, and is a record of the order of the Pageant for the City of York in 1415. The second is the order of the Procession of the Craftsmen and Companies of Norwich from the Common Hall in 1533. This list will be found in Blomefield’s ‘Norfolk,’ vol. ii. p. 148. The third is the order of the Chester Play, inaugurated 1339, and discontinued 1574. This list will be found in Ormerod’s ‘Cheshire,’ vol. i. p. 300. These records possess an intrinsic value, apart from other matters, as proving to the reader the leading position which these several cities held as centres of industry in the thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries. The last list I would furnish is that met with in the quaint poem entitled ‘Cocke Lorelle’s Bote,’ published about 416the beginning of the reign of Henry VIII., and purporting to give a list of the tradesmen and manufacturers of the metropolis at that time. I have quoted merely the portion that concerns my purpose, and it is taken from the edition published by the Percy Society. Though not perfect, that edition is undoubtedly the best.
I.
The Order for the Pageants of the Play of Corpus Christi, in the time of the Mayoralty of William Alne, in the third Year of the Reign of King Henry V. Anno 1415, compiled by Roger Burton, Town Clerk.
Tanners.
Plasterers.
Carde-makers.
Fullers.
Coupers.
Armourers.
Gaunters.
Shipwrights.
Fyshmongers.
Pessyners.
Mariners.
Pchemyners.
Bukbynders.
Hosyers.
Spicers.
Peuterers.
Founders.
Tylers.
Chaundelers.
Goldsmithes.
Orfeures.
Gold-beters.
Mone-makers.
Masons.
Marashals.
Girdellers.
Naylers.
Sawters.
Sporiers.
Lorymers.
Barbers.
Vyntners.
Smythes.
Fevers.
Pennagers.
Plummers.
Patten-makers.
Pouch-makers.
Botillers.
Cap-makers.
Vestment-makers.
Skynners.
Cuttellers.
Blade-smythes.
Shethers.
Scalers.
Buckle-mekers.
Horners.
Bakers.
Waterleders.
Cordwaners.
Bowers.
Fletchers.
Tapisers.
Couchers.
Littesters.
Cukes.
417Waterleders.
Sauce-makers.
Milners.
Tiel-makers.
Ropers.
Cevers.
Turners.
Hayresters.
Bollers.
Sherman.
Pynners.
Lateners.
Payntors.
Bouchers.
Pulterers.
Satellers.
Sellers.
Glasiers.
Carpenters.
Joyners.
Cartwrights.
Carvers.
Sawyers.
Wyndrawers.
Broggers.
Wool-pakkers.
Wadmen.
Escriveners.
Lumners.
Questors.
Dubbors.
Taillyoures.
Potters.
Drapers.
Lynwevers.
Wevers of Wolle.
Hostilers.
Mercers.
Porters, 8 torches.
Coblers, 4 torches.
Cordwaners, 14 torches.
Carpenters, 6 torches.
Chaloners, 4 torches.
Fullers, 4 torches.
Cottellers, 2 torches.
Wevers, torches.
Girdellers, torches.
Taillyoures, torches.
It is ordained that the Porters and Coblers should go first; then, of the Right, the Wevers and Cordwaners; on the Left, the Fullors, Cutlers, Girdellers, Chaloners, Carpenters, and Taillyoures; then the better sort of Citizens; and after the Twenty-four, the Twelve, the Mayor, and four Torches of Mr. Thomas Buckton.
II.
The Order of the Procession of the Occupations, Crafts, or Companies (Norwich) to be made on Corpus Christi Day, from the Common Hall. (1533 A.D.)
1. The Company of Masons, Tilers, Limeburners, and Smiths.
4182. The Carpenters, Gravours, Joiners, Sawers, Seivemakers, Wheelwrights, Fletchers, Bowers, and Turners.
3. The Reders, Thaxters, Rede-sellers, Cleymen, and Carriers.
4. The Butchers, Glovers, and Parchment-makers.
5. The Tanners.
6. The Cordwaners, Coblers, Curriers, and Collarmakers.
7. The Shermen, Fullers, Woolen and Linnen Weavers, and Wool-chapmen.
8. The Coverlet-weavers, Darnick-weavers, and Girdlers.
9. The Combers, Tinmen.
10. The Vintners, Bakers, Brewers, Inn-keepers, Tiplers, Coopers, and Cooks.
11. The Fishmongers, Freshwater-fishers, and Keelmen.
12. The Waxchandlers, Barbers, and Surgeons.
13. The Cappers, Hatters, Bagmakers, Paintmakers, Wier-drawers and Armourers.
14. The Pewterers, Brasiers, Plombers, Bellfounders, Glaziers, Steynors.
15. The Tailors, Broiderers, Hosiers, and Skinners.
16. The Goldsmiths, Diers, Calanderers, and Sadlers.
17. The Worsted-weavers and Irlonderes.
18. The Grocers and Raffmen.
19. The Mercers, Drapers, Scriveners, and Hardwaremen.
20. The Parish Clerks and Sextons, with their bannerwayts, and minstrals.
Blomefield’s ‘Norfolk,’ vol. ii. p. 148.
III.
The Chester Play was inaugurated 1339. The following trades, guilds, and companies took part in it:—
419First List.
1. The Barkers and Tanners.
2. Drapers and Hosiers.
3. Drawers of Dee and Water Leaders.
4. Barbers, Waxchandlers, Leeches.
5. Cappers, Wyerdrawers, Pynners.
6. Wrightes, Slaters, Tylers, Daubers, Thatchers.
7. Paynters, Brotherers (i.e. embroiderers), Glasiers.
8. Vintners and Marchants.
9. Mercers, Spicers.
Second List.
1. Gouldsmithes, Masons.
2. Smiths, Forbers, Pewterers.
3. Butchers.
4. Glovers, Parchment-makers.
5. Corvesters and Shoemakers.
6. Bakers, Mylners.
7. Boyeres, Flechers, Stringeres, Cowpers, Turners.
8. Irnemongers, Ropers.
9. Cookes, Tapsters, Hostlers, Inkeapers.
Third List.
1. Skinners, Cardemakers, Hatters, Poynters, Girdlers.
2. Sadlers, Fusters.
3. Taylors.
4. Fishmongers.
5. Sheremen.
6. Hewsters and Bellfounders.
7. Weavers and Walkers.
The last procession occurred in 1574.
Ormerod’s ‘Cheshire,’ vol. i. p. 300.
420IV.
Extract from ‘Cocke Lorelle’s Bote.’
The fyrst was goldesmythes and grote clyppers:
Multyplyers and clothe thyckers:
Called fullers everychone:
There is taylers, taverners, and drapers:
Potycaryes, ale-brewers, and bakers:
Mercers, fletchers, and sporyers:
Boke-prynters, peynters, bowers:
Myllers, carters, and botylemakers:
Waxechaundelers, clothers, and grocers:
Wollemen, vynteners, and flesshemongers:
Salters, jowelers, and habardashers:
Drovers, cokes, and pulters:
Yermongers, pybakers, and waferers:
Fruyters, chesemongers, and mynstrelles:
Talowe chaundelers, hostelers, and glovers:
Owchers, skynners, and cutlers:
Bladesmythes, fosters, and sadelers:
Coryers, cordwayners, and cobelers:
Gyrdelers, forborers, and webbers:
Quyltemakers, shermen, and armorers:
Borlers, tapestry-worke-makers, and dyers:
Brouderers, strayners, and carpyte-makers:
Sponers, torners, and hatters:
Lyne-webbers, setters, with lyne-drapers:
Roke-makers, copersmythes, and lorymers:
Brydel-bytters, blackesmythes, and ferrars:
Bokell-smythes, horseleches, and goldbeters:
Fyners, plommers, and peuters:
Bedmakers, fedbedmakers, and wyre-drawers:
Founders, laten workers, and broche-makers:
Pavyers, bell-makers, and brasyers:
421Pynners, nedelers, and glasyers:
Bokeler-makers, dyers, and lether-sellers:
Whyte-tanners, galyors, and shethers:
Masones, male-makers, and merbelers:
Tylers, bryck-leyers, harde-hewers:
Parys-plasterers, daubers, and lymeborners:
Carpenters, coupers, and joyners:
Pype-makers, wode-mongers, and orgyn-makers:
Coferers, carde-makers, and carvers:
Shyppe-wrightes, whele-wrights, and sowers:
Harpe-makers, leches, and upholsters:
Porters, fesycyens, and corsers:
Parchemente-makers, skynners, and plowers:
Barbers, bokebynders, and lymners:
Repers, faners, and horners:
Pouche-makers, below-farmes, cagesellers:
Lanterners, stryngers, grynders:
Arowe-heders, maltemen, and corne-mongers:
Balancers, tynne-casters, and skryveners:
Stacyoners, vestyment-swoers, and ymagers:
Sylke-women, pursers, and garnysshers:
Table-makers, sylkedyers, and shepsters:
Goldesheares, keverchef, launds, and rebone makers:
Tankarde-berers, bougemen, and spereplaners:
Spynsters, carders, and cappeknytters:
Sargeauntes, katche-pollys, and somners:
Carryers, carters, and horsekepers:
Courte-holders, bayles, and honters:
Constables, hede-borowes, and katers:
Butlers, sterchers, and mustarde-makers:
Hardewaremen, mole-sekers, and ratte-takers:
Bewardes, brycke-borners, and canel-rakers:
Potters, brome-sellers, pedelers:
Shepherds, coweherdes, and swyne-kepers:
Broche-makers, glas-blowers, candelstycke-casts:
422Hedgers, dykers, and mowers:
Gonners, maryners, and shypmasters:
Chymney-swepers and costerde-mongers:
Lodemen and bere-brewers:
Fysshers of the sea and muskel-takers.
423