Medieval Hunting

by Richard Almond

  FIVE

  Crossing the Barriers

  The three previous chapters have been concerned largely with comparisons, stressing the differences between upper- and lower-class hunting, emphasising in particular quarry type, methods and techniques. These differences highlight the barriers of class division, a continually reiterated subject which is dear to the hearts of many historians. However, it is apparent, perhaps surprising, that the uniting factor between all classes was a love of hunting. This common ground provided the base for organised hunting on a large scale and was vital to the successful running of a royal or noble hunt establishment.

  This organisation resembled a pyramid in its hierarchical structure and it recruited men and youths from a wide social background. The sons of yeomen, and lesser men, shared a common culture with aristocrats and gentlemen when they joined such an establishment. It was a way for the non-gentleman, and his son, to rise up the social scale. Distinctions of class increasingly became blurred and there was confusion over the meaning and validity of gentility.1 By Tudor times, their dress, weaponry (which included swords), speech and manners gave them the appearance of gentlemen.2 Some of this could be said to be a necessary part of their training as hunt servants within the noble household, but some was also the result of concern with their own image in the hunting field, a direct reflection of their master’s wealth and prestige. Of course, their masters were also responsible as they held the purse strings which financed such finery. However, some commentators were critical of yeomen imitating their social betters, exemplified by the comment in Polychronicon Ranulphi Higden of a ‘yeman arraieth hym as a squyer’.3 Certainly, in pictorial sources of Renaissance hunting, such as Les Chasses de Maximilien, it is often difficult to differentiate between gentle and professional hunters. This is not the case in earlier illustrations, such as those of Roy Modus and Livre de chasse, in which the hunt staff are much easier to identify. Compared to the gentle hunters, the servants are purposely painted smaller, even those in the foreground; more simply dressed and often in green; carry hunting knives and horns slung on baldrics but not swords; and as most are on foot, lack spurs. Not only are the gentle hunters larger, they are also depicted as more elegant and stylish than the staff on whom the artist has skilfully bestowed a humble demeanour. There are few hunt servants portrayed in the Calendar cycle of MS Egerton 1146; they are only present in April (Netting Red Deer), July (Despatching the Hart), August (The Ceremony of the Curée) and December (The Boar-hunt on Horseback with Hounds).4 However, their inferior rank is evident from their dress which is not only plain but ragged. The fewterer in April sports grey leggings lacking knees. The weary lymerer in July is shown wearing boots which have split from their soles, revealing his bare feet. The August lymerer wears a ragged blue tunic and he, too, has holey boots. The servants wear hunting knives but lack swords and spurs. In addition, their facial expressions are, to a man, glum and gloomy, a complete contrast to their master who is clearly having a tremendously enjoyable time. It appears likely that in this particular German manuscript, the artist is under strict instruction from his patron to portray the hunt servants as clearly identifiable and inferior beings. Why else depict them in rags? An alternative answer is that this was the reality, and the neatly dressed hunt servants in Livre de chasse and other illustrated hunting treatises was the conventional though sanitised version, more in keeping with the dignity of the proud owner of an expensive illuminated manuscript. Perhaps the patron of the Egerton manuscript was unusual in that he was determined to record every actuality of hunting in his lands.

  The royal Forests in England, the large areas of varied habitat preserved for the pleasure of deer hunting by the king and his guests, were similarly staffed and organised in a strict hierarchical manner. Some such structure was obviously necessary in order to produce some guarantee of sport. It has already been remarked that there must have been close links between the hunt and Forest establishments, particularly leading up to, and on, royal hunting days, although we have little direct evidence of this liaison. It is evident that the hunt and Forest establishments were unusual late medieval organisations in that they both possessed a defined ‘career structure’ up which it was possible, with merit and ability, to ascend and achieve high rank. That this was possible, and in two areas of considerable employment, points to a significant flexibility within the feudal system now widely taken for granted by historians. Social mobility, it seems, was perhaps easier in rural England than was previously imagined, particularly after the Pestilence of 1348. These were employment areas into which the higher classes of rural commons, described in the fifteenth-century documents as the mediocres, were moving increasingly in order to ‘better’ themselves. It appears that the opportunities were there and that the sons of husbandmen entered such employment for social and economic reasons.

  Certainly, many of the professional hunt officials, the ‘hunt servants’ as they would be called today, stemmed from humble origins, yet they appeared to mix with their employers and social superiors at particular carefully delineated moments because of their specialised training, knowledge and skills. A.C. Spearing remarks that the knowledge of doing everything correctly ‘is a prerogative of the aristocracy and their skilled servants’, and that the aristocracy were assisted by ‘lerned servants’. These servants thus spoke and understood the élitist but technical vocabulary of venery which formed the ‘liturgy’ of the aristocratic ‘sacrament’, although they were ‘lerned’ not by birth but by training,5 a fine point of social distinction. However, all had to be taught the correct language and procedures ‘whatever you be grete or litel’.6 This training included the proper undoing of the carcass which, although within the practical knowledge of a noble hunter, was often performed in the English hunting field by a professional hunter or forester. The Master of Game makes this clear when instructing his audience ‘it is a point that belongeth to woodmanscraft, though it be well suiting to an hunter to be able to do it’.7 Upon the thorough training of the hunt officials and their assistants depended the success or otherwise of hunting days and, ultimately, of the hunt establishment of each royal Forest and great lord.

  The responsibility of the more senior hunt officials was sizeable and the bond of respect between a keen hunting monarch and his older huntsmen could be considerable. Similarly, the falconer who directly supervised the daily running of a noble or royal mews probably had a special relationship with his employer.8 Frederick II of Hohenstaufen valued his falconers highly because of their qualities and skills, and, perhaps significantly, he does not refer to their lineage and birth.9 He regarded the office of falconer as important ‘because its duties are manifold and exacting and call for rare qualities of body and mind’.10 A surviving fragment of a register covering a few months of the years 1239 to 1340 mentions by name fifty of Frederick’s falconers, including Master Walter Anglicus and his famous son, William11 (the surname indicates that these falconers were probably of English origin), showing that these officials were regarded as of some importance by the Emperor. The post of Lord Falconer was a high office in many royal households, and even the royal falconers of lower status were sometimes from the landed gentry.12 Those gentle hunters, or employees of lords’ mews, who trained and flew birds of prey were divided into two distinct types, based upon the category of bird which they used to take quarry. The austringer, from the French autour, trained and flew goshawks, or short-winged hawks, in wooded and close country where his bird pursued the prey. In contrast, the falconer flew long-winged hawks (falcons), usually the peregrine falcon, in open terrain where his bird could gain great height before ‘stooping’ on to the quarry.13 The trainer of a sparrowhawk, an unpredictable bird often carried by aristocratic ladies, was correctly called a sparviter.14

  Surviving late medieval documents, such as the Hunting Ordinances of King Alfonso V of Portugal, provide us with information on the ranks of hunt officials, their duties, privileges and rights.15 The Master of Game is also a valuab
le English source regarding the ranks and salaries of hunt officials, although John Cummins comments that some of the gradations given in Livre de chasse are omitted.16 It seems likely that salary was directly linked to both job-title and its attendant status. The hunt officials most often mentioned in documents before the end of the fifteenth century are as follows (all salaries are per diem):

  Master of hounds or keepers of the King’s dogs and chief huntsmen

  12d

  Master of Herthounds

  12d

  Master of Buckhounds

  12d

  Master of Harriers

  12d

  Keeper of King’s dogs

  12d

  Huntsmen

  4d, 7½ to 9½d

  Yeoman at horse

  4d

  Otter-hunters

  2d

  Foxhunters

  2d

  Yeomen berners on foot

  1½d, 2d

  Fewterers, veutrers (attendants on greyhounds)

  1½d, 2d

  Limerer

  2d

  Bercelettar (yeoman of the bow or archer)

  2d

  Chacechiens (garcons, inferior attendants on hounds)

  1½d

  Grooms and pages

  1½d

  Foresters and Parkers

  1d, 3d17

  Employment as a professional huntsman or falconer could be not only prestigious but also include valuable financial perquisites. The many falconers of the Visconti ruling family of Milan received tax exemptions and the 108 huntsmen of King Alfonso of Aragon in 1445 were all exempted from municipal taxation and jurisdiction. Alfonso also sent his senior Spanish huntsmen abroad on diplomatic missions, indicating his trust in their judgement and skills in statecraft. In 1443, Leonello d’Este, the elder brother of Borso, commissioned a votive portrait of a favourite falconer from the sculptor Nicolo Baroncelli.18 There could hardly be a higher tribute to a professional servant. The falconers employed at the Scottish court were fortunate enough to be clothed by the king, and the 1491 treasurer’s accounts clearly show a hierarchical structure in place, the higher placed professional receiving not only more cloth than his subordinates, but also cloth of varied kinds and some red-coloured.19

  The Duke of York, as Master of Game to Henry IV, was an aristocrat by birth, but it was possible in the higher grades of royal huntsman to achieve nobility. John Cummins remarks ‘it appears that a huntsman not born into the nobility could aspire to become a squire and presumably, therefore a knight’. He then provides two examples of this type of ennoblement. Late fourteenth-century French hunting accounts name Messire Philippe de Courguilleroy, a Maistre Veneur, and describe him as a chevalier, or knight; one of the other veneurs named is Jehan de Courguilleroy, and he is described as an escuier, or squire. This same family appears many times in the hunting accounts and is a good example of the achievement of nobility through promotion within the hierarchy of the hunting establishment. The Franconvilles, another French family in which the profession of huntsman was a strong tradition, became squires.20 Borso d’Este, who succeeded to the marquisate of Ferrara in 1450, was so passionately keen on hunting that he ennobled his falconer and the keeper of his hounds.21

  In England, William Twiti, a man of uncertain but not noble origin, became (Chief) Huntsman to Edward II, presumably through promotion within the royal hunting establishment. The 1326 Exchequer accounts name William de Twyty, the King’s Huntsman, as being in receipt of a wage of 9d per day. This salary of a commoner compares very favourably to the accounts of 1401 which give the 2nd Duke of York 12d per day as Master of the King’s Harthounds. Old royal huntsmen were often provided for by grateful monarchs. Edward II’s respect for Twiti resulted in his honourable retirement around 1327 to residence at Reading Abbey as a pensioner of the king.22 The Abbot of Reading gave a later royal huntsman, Alan de Leek, the same honourable retirement as Twiti.23 The Hunting Ordinances of Alfonso V of Portugal lay down that if a retired royal huntsman attained the age of seventy, he was to be lodged by the Master Huntsman and receive the same protection and privileges as an employed huntsman.24

  It was not only the officials of the upper echelons of the hunt who benefited from involvement in the hunt organisation. There were also particular occasions when the lesser employees enjoyed their privileges. Of course, there was a public formal relationship between professionals and the nobility, and this is apparent in the assemblée and curée ceremonies, sumptuously illustrated in Livre de chasse and other illuminated manuscripts. There is a distinct separation of figures based upon rank. Often this division is clear as the professionals are apparelled in green livery. Sometimes, particularly in the field, these differences are not clear. For example, a yeoman at horse appears very similar to a gentleman-hunter on horseback. However, at the same time, it is clear that the formalised events, important elements of the ritualistic procedures of a hunting day, must have dictated the public relationship between noble and professional hunter. These formal events were thus exclusive in that they catered for a restricted social membership, the nobility. However, in private, when hunters were not in the public gaze and could be more relaxed with each other, it was undoubtedly different and was inclusive. Social mixing and camaraderie occurred particularly at the special suppers given for all the huntsmen celebrating the successful taking of the first and last harts of the season.25 The Master of Game relates, in the Duke of York’s own words (so not included in its precursor Livre de chasse, from which much had been plagiarised):

  And if it be þe frist hert slayn wip/ strength in þe seson or þe last þ shergeaunts/ or þe 3emen shul goo on þeire offices bihalfe/ and axe þeire fees, þe which I reporte mo to/ þe old statutis and custumes of þe kyngges/ hous, and þis do þe maister of þe game ou3t to/ spekis to þe officers þat alle þe hunters/ soper be well ordeyned and þat þei drynk non/ ale, for no þing but alle wyne þat nyght for þe/ good and grete labour þat pei haue had for þe/ lordes game and disport and for þe exploit and/ makyng of þe houndes, and also þat þei be more/ merily and gladly telle what ech of hem haþ don/ of alle þe day and which houndes haue best ronne and boldiest.26

  It is clear that these suppers were important events in the hunting calendar, great occasions for drinking deeply of wine and not common ale, and recalling with gusto the day’s events and which hounds performed best. There would be toasts to the slain harts and pledges by both gentle and professional hunters to each other, to times past and to future hunting. Such suppers were integral not only in breaking down class barriers but also to bonding together hunters who came from a wide range of social backgrounds. Such feasts can thus be termed inclusive events as they included all men who hunted in the hunt establishment. These twice-yearly occasions of good fellowship may be seen as the equivalent of the annual fraternity feasts,27 partaken of by a group of men united not by trade or occupation but by hunting, the ‘fraternity of the hunt’, similar to the ‘fraternity of the forest’ to which the outlaw band of Robin Hood has been recently likened by Professor A.J. Pollard.28 Tudor and Jacobean ‘hunting fraternities’ are discussed by Roger Manning, but these groups of men were poaching bands or gangs, not legitimate fraternities within the hunt or Forest establishments. Manning’s fraternities were local vigilante groups who took it upon themselves to dispense popular justice to unpopular landlords including ‘those who failed to display neighbourliness and hospitality, to landlords who encroached upon common wastes and woods or who neglected to prevent their deer and rabbits from damaging the crops of tenants and neighbours’.29 Manning suggests that the social gulf between gentry of all ranks and yeomanry was narrowed owing to mixed participation in these ‘hunting fraternities’.30 This would seem inevitable, just as the inclusive suppers of the hunt establishments promoted social mixing and equality.

  It is significant that although ladies hunted on days organised by royal and noble hunting establishments, and were specifically catered for at these events, there is no
mention of women hunters at the twice-seasonal socially democratic suppers. This is also a common feature of most medieval town guild feasts. ‘Inclusive’ did not apparently embrace the fair sex at fraternal hunting ‘jollies’, a profoundly puzzling view to modern fox-hunters whose social life for both sexes is centred around the local hunt calendar.