They loved colour, the English people, though they were not particular about having it quite clean - which is no doubt an acquired taste; 'l'appetit vient en mangeant.' In the fourteenth century a good deal of luxury was common in 'worthy' houses. Christine of Pisa has sung the splendours of royal residences: 'les aornemens des sales, chambres d'etranges et riches bordeures a giosses perles d'or et soye a ouvrages divers: le vaisellement d'or et d'argent, et autres nobles estore-mens, n'etait se merveilles non.' The cupboard, once as simple as the table, a plank on trestles, had become stationary, and sprouted more shelves, carven and painted in the rich Gothic tracery to harmonise with the gay colours of the hangings and dresses. Etiquette began to order the chamber and 'al thynge cleanlye aboute' it - this meant further art-development. 'Cupboord cloth, with basyn, ewer, candle light, and towell,' dishes of pewter or silver (there was no china), cups, and knives - these were the minor furniture which the artists made beautiful whenever they had the chance: in fact, all these things glowed and breathed with such pleasant thoughts and histories as we frame in pictures and suspend on walls, and improved furniture was accompanied by mended manners.

The bed, in Edward III.'s time, had become 'bien et richement encourtine,' surrounded by gold-bright carpets 'sur quoy on marchait' - fabulous luxury! - at least on those occasions of festive ostentation when ladies of position received,' after the birth of a child. 'Et Dieu scet les autres super-fluz despens des festes, baigneries, de diverses assemblies, selon les usaiges de Paris a accouchees,' says Christine; and this gives us some notion of the advance in comfort, if not culture, among the upper classes when leisure and safety waited on their passionate love of carving and colour, on which society was as dependent for ideas and pleasure then as it now is on books. Hence the richness of subjects in old work, the allusive pictures in which ideas were condensed almost confusingly at times, because they delighted every class of a non-reading public.

The dais, then, furnished with 'a chayere' or bench of honour to accommodate the most important person or persons present, was the main feature of a mediaeval room. All the household glory centred on the dais. The best hangings were hung above and behind it, precisely like Her Majesty's throne. Below, benches accommodated the meinie, both strangers and household.

If a carpet adorned the dais, the rest of the room was strewed with straw. The benches were cushioned when necessary; and when the 'board,' furnished only with the cloth, the precious saltcellar, and the 'sotelte 'at each course: and the 'side-board,' and perhaps the 'credence ' for the taster rich with lace-like carving, were set, all the furniture of the time deemed necessary to luxury is enumerated. A gay, rude scene it was, with Oriental broideries bought from passing chapmen, frescoes, and tapestries home-made with loving skill, dazzling plate, and jewel-laden garments, all a little tarnished by the need of constant vigilance Se aucune chose y verras Que soit deshonete ou vilaine.

Dirty indeed, if not malodorous! The 'little hounds' growled over the bigger bones thrown beneath the board, the lesser ones, fish bones, etc, being left upon the cloth or removed on the sodden 'trenchers' of hard bread. The hawks brought by guests sat hooded on the perch at one end of the room, and under foot the muffled sounds of horses stamping in the stable beneath bore a fitful accompaniment to the mournful jingle of the minstrel's citole. Dinner over, and the board lifted, the noble company, or such as were neither excited nor stupid from the meal, danced, men and ladies holding each other by the finger, or sang, or one amongst them 'most felyngly speketh of love,' The story of Aucassin and Nicolette is related, with a solemn refrain now and then, like a Gregorian chant; whilst the maidens ply the ceaseless distaff which hinders no jest cr tender sigh.

Near the window, blazoned with the story of False Arcyte, hangs a caged 'crow' (raven) twittering to the setting sun, while a young knave pushes past the worsted arras shielding the door, and lowers the candle-beam by its pulley from the carved and painted rafters. Presently the 'storied walls' are lighted only by the flaring torches stuck in brackets and the great yellow candles, and on the table-dormant the chess-boards of malachite and crystal, of gold and ivory, are set for the eager players. This sobers all; it is well if 'check' and ' mate,' spoken by bearded or by rosy lips, lead to no mischief as the night wears on, and the white moon sends a beam through the rich panes across the murky atmosphere. If this be Early England, how absurd it becomes to name thus objects unknown and made by processes inconceivable to her handicraftsmen, and possessing none of the qualities which make Early English works precious - simplicity and earnestness of idea and execution. Mediaeval work is naive like a child's. No doubt, to prefer a child s work to a man's is a matter of opinion.

To forge childish work is as ridiculous as it is impossible; but this is what modern traders do when they foist on the obtuse public imitations of ancient work under ancient names.