The Livery Companies

The word "livery," from the French livrée, "dispensed, handed over," refers to some identifying mark or clothing that denotes a person with a specific purpose.

Livery was often worn by the servants/household of a nobleman, often incorporating elements of the nobleman's coat of arms. Households would have "Livery Cupboards" for the storing of uniforms.

Livery could also be used by members of a particular group to show their connection. Chaucer's General Prologue to the Canterbury Tales  mentions:

An Habersasshere and a Carpenter,
A Webbe, a Dyere, and a Tapycer —
And they were clothed alle in o lyveree
Of a solempne and greet fraternitee.
Ful fressh and newe hir geere apiked was;

[A Haberdasher and a Carpenter,
A Weaver, a Dyer, and a Tapestry-maker—
And they were clothed all in the same livery
Of a solemn and great guild.
Very fresh and new their gear was adorned;]

London's guilds and trade associations were called "livery companies" because of the specific forms of dress they would use to distinguish themselves. They also each developed a coat of arms (some of which are pictured above). They provided regulation and quality control over their particular field, and were the only legitimate source of training and commerce if you wished to apprentice. You were not allowed to ply your trade unless you were a member of the appropriate livery company.

In 1516 the existing 48 livery companies were given an order of preference by the Lord Mayor (mostly based on their wealth and influence), of which there were a dozen designated as the most important, the so-called "Great Twelve." Ultimately, there were (and still are) 110 livery companies in London. These days their chief purposes are charitable giving and networking, similar to Rotary. 

Who were the 12 most important? I'll delay discussion on that until tomorrow.

The Medieval Drugstore

The Ancient Greek ἀποθήκη (apothḗkē, "storehouse") became Latin apotheca and gave us the English word apothecary, used for both the place one would go to find pharmaceutical preparations and for the pharmacist himself who made the medicines to sell to doctors or directly to people requesting them. Apothecaries were also sources of medical advice for the common people. (Kings and wealthy folk had personal physicians.)

The apothecary was a source of many, many substances used either alone or in combination. Typical medical materials were herbs familiar to the modern seeker of comfort, such as chamomile, garlic, mint, or witch hazel. Less familiar as medicinal sources were dung, urine, animal fats, and even saliva. All these might be used in the production of materia medica, medicine.

The apothecary, as an expert in chemistry, was also a source of non-medicinal products: cosmetics, perfumes, dyes, and soaps.

Apothecary shops existed thousands of years before Chaucer, who wrote in The Canterbury Tales:

    Though in this toun is noon apothecarie,
    I shal myself to herbes techen yow,
    That shul been for youre hele and for youre prow.

    [Though in this town there is no apothecary,
    I myself shall teach you herbs
    That shall be for your health and for your pride.]

Apothecaries became more and more respected over time, and finally gained their own livery company, the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries, in 1617. That was not their first time in a guild, however: in 1617, they broke away from their original guild, the 12th century Guild of Pepperers. I'll tell you about them tomorrow.

Pets and the Clergy

Christine de Pizan and her dog [link]

In Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, the Prologue describes the Prioress as having small lapdogs that she dotes on, feeding them roasted flesh and milk. This behavior is similar to that of a noble-born lady, not a nun. As it turns out, nuns keeping pets was not uncommon, and it was not always a good thing.

Romsey, which was often the home to noble ladies, gives us an example of pet-based extravagance. John Pecham, who was Archbishop of Canterbury from 1279-1292, criticized the abbess for not providing adequate food to her charges, while at the same time keeping and dogs and monkeys (!) in her chamber.

William Wykeham, Bishop of Winchester, wrote to Romsey's abbess in 1387:

...clear proofs that some of the nuns of your house bring with them to church birds, rabbits, hounds and such like frivolous things, whereunto they give more heed than to the offices of the church, with frequent hindrance to their own psalmody and that of their fellow nuns and to the grievous peril of their souls, therefore we strictly forbid you, ... to bring to church no birds, hounds, rabbits or other frivolous things that promote indiscipline;
... whereas through the hunting dogs and other dogs abiding within your monastic precincts, the alms that should be given to the poor are devoured and the church and cloister and other places set apart for divine and secular services are foully defiled, ... we strictly command and enjoin you, ..., that you remove these dogs altogether.

The keeping of pets was common for the upper classes, and monasteries and abbeys were frequently refuges for noble women who had no prospects of (on interest in) marriage. They clearly did not intend, however, to leave certain luxuries behind, and companion pets were clearly a desirable option.

Saluzzo and England and Griselda

Saluzzo, a town and principality in northern Italy, had some interesting connections to England. It was a simple tribal city-state in Roman times, but during the time of the Carolingians it became the hereditary property of the Marquesses of Saluzzo, who extended their control over a wider region in the north. It was frequently in conflict with its powerful neighbor, the Duchy of Savoy, which eventually assumed much of Saluzzo's territory. The Savoys were so powerful that the kings of England and France treated them very well.

Griselda's daughter is carried away [source]

One of the first strategic marriages between English and Italian noble families, however, was with Saluzzo. Alice of Saluzzo (d.1292) married Richard Fitzalan, the 8th Earl of Arundel. The marriage had been arranged by Eleanor of Provence, Queen to Henry III. Alice's father, Thomas I of Saluzzo, was an exemplary ruler under whom Saluzzo flourished like never before. This probably had a lot to do with choosing to form an alliance with Saluzzo by marriage.

Not all Marquesses of Saluzzo came off so well in history—or literature.

In Geoffrey Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, The Clerk's Tale tells of Griselda, whose hand in marriage is sought by Marquess Walter of Saluzzo. He marries her on the condition that she will always obey him, no matter what. She agrees. When she gives birth to a daughter, Walter decides to test her obedience: he has a soldier remove her daughter. Although Griselda has every reason to believe her daughter is being killed (actually, the girl is sent to be raised by Walter's sister), she remains obedient and kind to her husband.

Four years later, she gives birth to a son. Walter chooses a further test: he tells her son has to go as well, that he has permission from the pope to divorce her, and that she is to return to her father taking nothing but the smock she wears under her fine dress. She returns home, showing no signs of distress.

Years later, Walter summons Griselda to him. He tells her he is marrying again, a young wife this time, and wants Griselda to help prepare the house for a new young bride. Unbeknownst to Griselda, the new young bride is actually her now-grown daughter. Griselda patiently asks Walter to be kind to his new bride, who might not be able to endure his tests the way a woman raised in poverty could. Walter, much moved by her patience and faithfulness, confesses that they are still married, that her children are alive, and promises never to test her again. They live happily ever after.

Chaucer did not invent this story. He probably got it from Boccaccio's Decameron, and the folktale of patient Griselda was around for a long time. Why the "villain" is a Marquess of Saluzzo is the mystery. But then, not all Marquesses were as beloved as Thomas I.  In Boccaccio's lifetime, Saluzzo experienced some civil strife. Manfred V of Saluzzo was forced to give up a claim to the throne in 1334 after being caught in a sex scandal with his own mother, then usurped the throne in 1341, but was forced to give it up a year later. 

Public Reading

When April, with her showers sweet,
The drought of March has pierced to the roots...

A poster for sale of Chaucer reading

On this day in 1397, Geoffrey Chaucer gave a public reading of his Tales of Canterbury at the court of Richard II. We don't know exactly what he read—it isn't likely that they sat through the hours it would take to read everything, even though the Canterbury Tales are far from complete. The wager the pilgrims make is that each one would tell two tales going to Canterbury and two on the return journey; their host would pick the best one and treat them all to a feast. Given this plan, and the number of pilgrims (which changes along the way), we would expect at least 120 tales.* We only have about 30, with no evidence that there are "lost manuscripts" anywhere containing more work. (Chaucer was a busy public servant, and probably didn't have much time for writing.)

King Richard was a great supporter of poetry, and public readings were not uncommon. In a world without television, radio, movie theaters, or even plays, public entertainment came from song, dance, or the written word. Readings at court of new poetry were a popular affair.

Monasteries favored public reading as well. The Rule of St. Benedict mandated readings during meals, both to discourage idle chatter and to educate monks. Hearing a text read was supposed to be as educational as reading it yourself: the listener was "reading" with his ears and experiencing the same words, and therefore "knew" what was read as well as the person whose eyes were actually on the page. At universities like Oxford and Cambridge, students attended lectures that could last for hours, but they were not supposed to take notes. Listening and thinking was supposed to be sufficient for learning. When books became inexpensive to print and "everyone" could have a copy of the text to study and read, I think this "active listening" skill gradually lost importance.

*I think Chaucer wanted to "beat" Boccaccio's Decameron, with its ten people each telling a new tale each day for ten days.

Chaucer Performs

Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote 

The droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote 

DailyMedieval doesn't usually talk about topics that everyone knows about (King Arthur, Geoffrey Chaucer, jousting and castles, etc.), because it tries to pull back the curtain on all the other interesting people and places and tidbits of knowledge that do not get any exposure in textbooks or modern popular culture. (Not that I don't have a strong feelings about Chaucer, as the book link in the upper-right corner of this website tells you.)

From the Ellesmere manuscript

Today, however, we mention Geoffrey Chaucer, because today is thought to be the day of the year when his pilgrims set out on their journey in The Canterbury Tales. Also, 17 April 1397 is considered to be the day that he first gave a public reading of his most famous work at the court of Richard II.

Spring was the time when folk "longed to go on pilgrimages" because they had been cooped up indoors all winter and the roads were finally becoming navigable.

Canterbury was a common goal for pilgrimages because it held the shrine of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury from 1162-1170, who was killed during the reign of Henry II by four knights who were acting either on behalf of  the King or were removing the king's rival on their own in order to curry favor. He was universally loved by the population of England, and was declared a martyr by Pope Alexander III in 1173.

While we're on the subject, let's make something clear about The Canterbury Tales: it is not a complete work. In the collection, the proposal for the pilgrims is that they would each tell two tales heading to Canterbury and two tales coming back, after which their Host would judge the best tale. Chaucer's intent was possibly to top Boccaccio's Decameron with its ten tales each day for ten days. We have barely over 30 tales (and some of them fragmentary), a far cry from the 120 we could expect if he completed the work.

The First Female Professor of Medicine

The medical school in Salerno had on its staff the first well-known female physician and professor of medicine. Sadly, we know nothing of her personal life, not even her dates: her existence at Salerno in the 11th or 12th centuries is inferred from the handful of texts she wrote or contributed to. Fortunately, her texts were considered important enough that they were preserved and copied, translated and distributed throughout Europe.

Trotula

Her name was Trotula (listen here for pronunciation), and we find it on several texts. The best-known is the three works collectively known as La Trotula.

• Conditions of Women—based on the Latin translation of an Arabic work, with additions of several Latin-based passages that had been around for awhile.
• Treatments for Women—"a disorganized collection of empirical cures with only a thin theoretical overlay."*
• Women's Cosmetics—a head-to-toe listing of ways to beautify all aspects of a woman's appearance, with no medicinal applications.

Although there are conditions that make no sense to modern medicine (such as a "wandering womb"), there are also techniques that we would consider very sound, such as using opium on the patient during childbirth (defying church tradition that women should suffer; see Genesis 3:16), and using silk thread to repair tears that occur in childbirth.

Some scholars have attributed these works to a man, perhaps through simple chauvinism, but also because it is believed that the frank addressing of gynecological topics would be too indelicate for a female author of the era. The author of La Trotula, however, self-identifies in the texts as a woman, and the analysis of history is always turning up surprises that challenge modern notions of medieval sensibilities. Also, in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, the book of wicked wives read by the Wife's husband Jankyn includes the name "Trotula." However little we may know of her now, it seems she developed a reputation that preserved her name for at least a couple centuries after her prime.

*Quotation from The Trotula: An English Translation of the Medieval Compendium of Women's Medicine, by Monica Green.

John of Gaddesden

With us there was a doctor of physic;
In all this world was none like him to pick
For talk of medicine and surgery;
For he was grounded in astronomy. —Prologue to the Canterbury Tales

Doctor, from the Ellesmere MS.

John of Gaddesden (c.1280-1361) was a "Doctor of Physik" who was quite well-known in his day, so much so that modern scholars looking to find analogs for the characters in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales have suggested he is the likeliest candidate for Chaucer's "doctor of physic." As a fan of both Chaucer and historical detail, I'm going to weigh in and say . . . maybe.

Who was Gaddesden, and why was he considered the model for Chaucer's pilgrim? For one thing, he had written Rosa medicinæ (The rose of medicine; sometimes called the Rosa Anglicæ), a compendium of medical information called so because it was in five parts, like the five sepals of a rose. In it, he quotes numerous authorities from the past; Chaucer's list of authorities with whom his doctor is familiar lines up nicely with Gaddesden's sources. Also, Gaddesden had a reputation for charging high fees, and Chaucer makes it clear that his doctor loved gold.

To be honest, however, Gaddesden's book was quoting the same authorities that anyone would quote when compiling a book on medicine. It was completely unoriginal. Even his title seems derivative, probably based on Lilium medicinæ (the Lily of medicine) by Bernard Gordon, produced at Montpellier in 1303. Gordon, a Scotsman, was one of the teachers of Guy de Chauliac. Chauliac, in turn, taught Gaddesden. What did Chauliac think of his student's work? Not much; he said of it:

Last of all arose the scentless rose of England, in which, on its being sent to me, I hoped to find the odor of sweet originality, but instead of that I encountered only the fictions of Hispanus, of Gilbert, and of Theodoric.

Those who write about Gaddesden being Chaucer's doctor usually justify it also be calling them "contemporaries." Let's look at the timeline: the Canterbury Tales probably wasn't started until 1387. Even if the Prologue were the first thing he wrote—highly unlikely—this was a quarter century after Gaddesden's death; a death that would have taken place when Chaucer was about 20 years old and had been connected to the household of Prince Lionel, the second son of King Edward III, only for a few years. Gaddesden seems to have been attached to the household of Edward, the Black Prince, who would have spent much of Gaddesden's later years on the continent while Chaucer was in England.

They could have crossed paths, but probably not significantly, and Gaddesden would have been long out of the public eye and consciousness when Chaucer came into his own as a poet. For Chaucer to write up a physician who quoted historical authorities, knew astrology, and loved gold probably just meant that he had met typical physicians.