generally external. The hall furniture
was very simple, consisting of a long table,
sometimes of boards laid upon tressels, with
the legs rammed well into the ground, and
forms fixed into the ground in the same
manner—now and then having backs. The
floor was covered with dry rushes in
the winter, and with green fodder in the
summer. The lower part of the hall, below
the dais, sloppy enough, was often called
"the Marsh." In this hall, guests and
domestics of both sexes slept upon the forms,
or upon the fodder. And for centuries the
practice continued after the itinerant minstrels
and romancers had well stocked themselves
with ribald tales, based on the results
of this arrangement.

In towns, the desire which men had to
reside within the protection of their walls,
made space valuable, and led to the frequent
erection of second stories. The houses were
here and there of stone, but, in the great majority
of cases, of wood and mud clay, thatched,
perhaps plastered—certainly whitewashed,
both inside and out. It was considered  "only
proper," as a precaution against fire, "that
before every house there should be a tub full
of water."

We are now in the good time of the
Edwards; to which Harrison, the author of a
"Description of Brittaine," written in Queen
Elizabeth's days, looked back with much regret
as the real good old times of his time.
At the time of the coronation of Edward
the First, there were two halls in Westminster,
a greater and a less. But, furthermore,
on that occasion, all the vacant ground
within the enclosure of the palace at Westminster
was entirely covered with buildings.
Several halls were raised on the south side
of the old palace, in which "tables, firmly
fixed in the ground, were set up, whereon the
magnates, and princes, and nobles were to be
feasted on the day of the coronation, and
during fifteen days thereafter." All poor
and rich, who came to the solemnity, were
to be welcome to the feast. "And innumerable
kitchens, also, were built within
the said enclosure, for the preparation of
viands against the same solemnity. And
lest those kitchens should not be sufficient,
there were numberless leaden caldrons
placed outside them, for the cooking of meats.
And it is to be remembered, that the great
kitchen, in which fowls and other things
were to be cooked, was wholly uncovered at
the top, so that all manner of smoke might
escape. No one can describe the other utensils
necessary for the sustentation of so great
a court: no one can tell the number of
barrels of wine which were prepared for
it.'' Yes, certainly, the antiquary can.
There were three hundred barrels of vin
ordinaire, of which one hundred and sixteen
were emptied on the coronation day.
They cost six hundred and forty-three
pounds, fifteen shillings, and fourpence; which
sum you must multiply by fifteen to bring it
to the value of money at the present day.
A shilling in the days of the Edwards corresponds
to fifteen shillings in the days of
Victoria.

The kitchens, as we have said, were merely
sheds. In the seventeenth year of Henry the
Third, the royal kitchens at Oxford were
blown down by a strong wind. A large shed,
to contain wood for the kitchen fires and for
any other fire that might be made, was, of
course, necessary. The Londoners, at first,
living in little whitewashed boxes, made a
strong objection to the use of sea-coal, on
account of its being impossible to keep their
walls white in the smoke it made.

To the King's houses there were now attached
"wardrobes:" a set of windy lofts or
store-rooms, in which were kept the heavy
cloths and stuffs for the apparel of the household.
Here, the king's tailors worked. The
court attendants being all clothed at the King's
expense, he was a wholesale purchaser of
draper's goods; and, at that period, such,
quantities as he required of fur and cloth
could be had only at the great periodical
fairs. Hence the necessity of wardrobes, in
which also were stored, by-the-by, almonds,
sugar, spice, and all things nice which came
under the title of stomatica.

In the year 1245, the predecessor of
Edward the First had only one glass cup,
which Guy de Roussillon had given to him.
He sent it to Edward of Westminster,
a famous goldsmith in his day, with orders
to take off the glass foot and to mount it
on a foot of silver gilt; to make a handle
to it answering to the foot; to surround it
with silver-gilt hoops; and, having done this
with all haste, to present it in his name to the
Queen. Glass was first applied to windows
in the churches and the monasteries; and
although the Edwards and some of their chief
nobles introduced glass into their own windows
also, they did so sparingly, using it as
so rare a luxury, that, in the best of palaces,
there was but a glass window here and
there, the other windows having wooden
lattices or wooden shutters. The glass in a
man's windows was a portion of his personal
estate.

The Romans made good glass, and knew
the use of it in windows. Brittle as glass is,
it stood firm under the blows that crushed the
Roman empire; and, from the beginning of
the middle ages, the island of Murano, near
Venice, was celebrated for its works in this
material. In Italy, church windows were
glazed in the seventh century. The art
spread into France and Germany long before
England practised it. It used to be obtained
by us, in England, from the Flemings, in exchange
for wool; some came from Normandy;
that being all, or chiefly, window glass; the
drinking-glasses were made in Venice, after
patterns sent out by the English dealers.
After the age of the Edwards, in 1386, glass