able itself was little more than a rude board on trestles, with benches
or stools along the side and with places scooped out to hold the portion
of food allotted to each person. Among the more well-to-do classes,
however, the table was a more ornamental piece of furniture. The benches
or stools still remained, but the rest was more civilized. The food,
consisting of vegetables, roast fowls, boiled meats, and fish was served
in large earthenware platters. There were no forks, but spoons and
fingers were freely used as well as knives, each guest frequently using
his own knife or dagger. As the guests had to help themselves, often
with their fingers, out of the common serving platters, there was some
reason in the ceremony which preceded each meal; this was the washing of
hands, for which the trumpeter sounded a call. Every gentleman had the
right to _faire corner l'eau_, as it was called, that is, to have his
trumpeter sound the call for washing hands. When this call sounded the
pages of the establishment bore the ewer to the ladies, and servants of
less pretension did likewise for the gentlemen. Napkins were provided
for drying one's hands after this, but the time had not yet come when
there were regular table napkins; instead, each wiped his hands or mouth
upon the tablecloth, and his knife upon a piece of bread. The company
sat at the table in couples, a gentleman and a lady together. This means
more than may be apparent at first sight, for one must remember that
there was usually but one drinking cup for each couple and that they ate
from a common plate. The plate, as we ventured to call it, was regularly
a large piece of bread, flat and round, which served to hold the food
and absorb the gravy. At the end of the meal this bread, called _pain
tranchoir_, was given to the poor, with the other scraps from the table.
It took a careful hostess properly to pair off the couples, for it must
have been very embarrassing for either lady or gentleman to have to
_manger a la meme ecuelle_ (eat out of the same porringer) and drink out
of the same cup with one personally distasteful. In the romance of
_Perceforest_ we find the description of a banquet where there were
eight hundred knights, "and there was not a one who did not have lady or
maiden to eat from his porringer." There was great profusion if not
great delicacy upon the table; we shall content ourselves with echoing
what Philippe de Beaumanoir says: "If I undertook to descr