At the conclusion of the previous section allusion was made to retinues as constituting a danger to the industrious members of the body politic. In this, our final section, we turn, or rather return, from the life of the fields to that of the hall. Some notice of the interior order of great houses has appeared in earlier chapters—e.g., that on "Children of the Chapel"—but such special reference, involving no more than the religious side of domestic arrangements, leaves a sense of incompleteness, and this void we must now proceed to fill.

Starting with the peril and annoyance involved in the maintenance of retinues, the proposition may be easily demonstrated. Alike in town and country the presence of armed and idle ruffians was a source of well-grounded apprehension. Thus, when the Bishop of Durham attended parliament, he had to obtain a licence before his retainers could be quartered at Stratford-at-Bow; and the manifold inconveniences produced by these satellites in country districts during the reign of Edward I. form the subject of a versified complaint, to be found in Wright's 'Political Songs'. One of the causes of the grievous scarcity of labour is believed to have been that nobles and others, under the pretence of husbandry, kept in their pay able-bodied dependants who, rather than eke out a miserable existence on the land, preferred to follow some warlike lord.
Billeting

As usual, the trouble began at the fountain-head. Everybody knows the term "billeting" as applied to soldiers on the march, who are compulsorily quartered on licensed victuallers and others at fixed rates. This is really a very ancient custom, which is closely, and indeed lineally, connected with the topic under discussion.

In the early days of royal progresses it was the duty of the Marshal of the King's Household to secure lodgings for the members of the retinue which accompanied him; and this he did by means of a billet, by virtue of which he appropriated for the occasion the best of the houses in the vicinity, marking them with chalk and ruthlessly ejecting the occupiers. The Marshal, it may be observed, did not do the chalking himself—a task which seems to have been delegated to the Sergeant Chamberlain of the Household.

Even London did not escape this intolerable vexation, though its immunity from billeting was expressly laid down in a succession of charters. The royal officials, paying scant heed to the sanctity of these clauses, repeatedly invaded the precincts of the City; and in the reign of Edward II. they went so far as to seize the house of one of the sheriffs, John de Caustone, and quarter therein the King's Secretary, sergeants, horses, and harness. The sheriff acted boldly. He erased the chalk marks, and proceeded to expel the intrusive sergeants—perhaps even the Secretary himself, unless, as Mr. Riley thinks probable, that person "walked quietly away." For this resolute vindication of the liberties of the City, Caustone had to answer before the Seneschal and Marshal of the King's Household, sitting in the Tower, but, as there was no excuse for the insolent aggression, he suffered no harm. The citizens, indeed, were so assured of their rights in this particular, that at some date—probably in the reign of Edward I.—an ordinance had been passed:

"That if any member of the royal household, or any retainer of the nobility, shall attempt to take possession of a house within the City either by main force or by delivery [of the Marshal of the King's Household]; and, if in such attempt he shall be slain by the master of the house, then, and in such case, the master of the house, shall find six of his kinsmen [i.e. as compurgators], who shall make oath, himself making oath as the seventh, that it was for this reason that he so slew the intruder; and thereupon he shall go acquitted."
Pre-emption

The humbler people who escaped billeting might still have cause to regret royal journeys owing to the inconsiderate exercise of the right of pre-emption. Subjects were compelled to sell; and the worst of it was that the King's purveyors were in the habit of paying not in cash down, but by means of an exchequer tally, or a beating! A tally was a hazel rod which had certain notches indicating the amount due. It obtained its name from the circumstance that these rods were in pairs, the creditor having one and the debtor the other, so that they could be used for the purpose of comparison. In practice it was found no easy matter to recover under this system, which lent itself to the worst exactions, and is the subject of numerous complaints in our early popular poetry. Thus in "King Edward and the Shepherd":

"I had catell, now have I none;
They take my beasts, and done them slon,
And payen but a stick of tree ...
They take geese, capons, and hen
And all that ever they may with ren
And reaves us our catell....
They took my hens and my geese
And my sheep with all the fleece
And led them forth away."

Somewhat similarly, when a ship arrived in port with a cargo of wine, the prerogative of prise was enforced, whereby the King was entitled to "a tun before and one abaft the mast," or the equivalent in money.

The royal household and those of "the great lords of the land" enjoyed the right of pre-emption not only in the country but in the London markets. Dealers in fish, for example, were not allowed to quit the City in order to meet a consignment "for the purpose of sending it to any great lord or a house of religion, or of regrating it," until the King's purveyors had first purchased what was required for their master's table.

When fish had been brought to the City, no fishmonger might buy "before the good people have bought what they need." It was the same with poultry. Until prime had been sounded at St. Paul's, poulterers were forbidden to buy for resale, the object being that "the buyers for the King and great lords of the land, and the good people of the City may make good their purchases, so far as they shall need."
Livery

So much for purveyance. As regards the disposition of the provisions thus obtained, it was expressed by the term "livery," formerly of much wider application than at present. The word comprehended all that was delivered or dispensed by the lord to his underlings or domestics—money, victuals, wine, garments, fuel, and lights; but no doubt it was employed more particularly of external and distinctive garb. The Wardrobe Book of 28 Edward I. and the Household Ordinances show that officers and retainers of the Court were presented with a roba estivalis and hiemalis. The livrée des chaperons, so often mentioned, refers to hoods or tippets of a colour sharply contrasting with that of the garment over which they were worn. Subsequently this mark took the form of a round cap, attached to which was a long liripipe, which might be wound round the head, but more usually hung over the arm. In the dress of the City Liverymen traces of it may still be found.

This suggests the remark that livery was used not by the members of great households merely, but by brotherhoods and gentz de mester; hence it is that Chaucer in his Prologue of the "Canterbury Tales" enumerates

A Haberdassher and a Carpenter
A Webbe, Dyere, and a Tapicer;

and says of them:

... they were clothed alle in a liveree
Of a solempne and great fraternitee.

The statute 7 Henry IV. conceded this privilege to the "trades of the cities of the realm," thus confirming previous acts of the reign of Edward III. and Richard II., which sanctioned the wearing of livery by menials and members of gilds, but prohibited the distribution of badges to adherents who assumed them in testimony of their readiness to aid their patron in any private quarrel. The practice was therefore a grave menace to the King's peace.

The prohibition was renewed 8 Edward IV., c. 2., which inflicted a penalty of one hundred shillings for every person "other than his menial servant, officer, or man learned in the one law or the other," so retained by anyone "of what estate, degree, or condition that he be." The fine was to be repeated for every month "that any such person is so retained by him by oath, writing, indenture or promise," and a similar penalty attached to the person retained. But there were many exceptions—"Provided that this ordinance do not extend to any livery given or to be given at the King's or Queen's coronation, or at the installation of an archbishop or bishop, or erection, creation, or marriage of any lord or lady of estate, or at the creation of Knights of the Bath, or at the commencement of any clerk in any university, or at the creation of serjeants in the law, or by any gild, fraternity, or mystery corporate, or by the mayor and sheriffs of London, or any other mayor, sheriff, or other chief officer of any city, borough, town, or port of this realm of England for the time being, during that time and for executing their office or occupation; nor to any badges or liveries to be given in defence of the King or of this realm of England; nor to the constable and marshal, nor to any of them for giving any badge, livery or token for any such feat of arms to be done within this realm; nor to any of the wardens towards Scotland for any livery, badge, or token of them to be given from Trent northward, at such time only as shall be necessary to levy people for the defence of the said marches, or any of them."
A Medi?val Household

The establishment of a great noble or ecclesiastic sometimes embraced a vast category of persons; and if we would learn on what an elaborate scale housekeeping might be conducted by subjects, we cannot do better than turn to Gascoigne's account of Cardinal Wolsey's colossal retinue. After stating that the ambitious churchman had in attendance upon him "men of great possessions and for his guard the tallest yeomen in the realm," he proceeds:

"And first, for his house, you shall understand that he had in his hall three boards, kept with three several officers, th............