Hello! Still on the road, as I hope you are !
I've come across some heraldic terms and expressions that I'll never be able to understand without your help.

The context is a list of items found at Dartington Hall (property of the then deceased earl of Huntingdon), Devon, in 1400:

"Seven rugs of white worsted embroidered with black ragged staves"

What are those black staves? Could it be caduceus, the staff of messengers? But, how is it that they are "ragged" (as opposed to "broken")?

As it happens with "wheat ears" in this context, the meaning and symbolism would probably refer to the particular language of livery badges and coats of arms.

Thanks a lot for your time and help.

CM

A ragged staff was (part) of the heraldic symbol of the Earls of Warwick. A bear being the part.
The staff was drawn from an old legend that a distant Earl had used an uprooted tree to kill a giant.
More on this link:
Warwick Heraldry

Not sure about Devon.

The Battle of Ferrybridge, prelude to Towton.

Lord Clifford's Lancastrians, wearing their red wyvern livery, attempt to stop the Earl of Warwick's Yorkist troops, who wear their ragged staff livery.

"Ragged" simply means "rough hewn" - they would use it to describe longer sections of tree trunks or limbs that had yet to be sawn or planed down.

As Trike says, it featured in Warwick's heraldry. However it was probably even more popular as a simple tapestry or painted motif where it had come to symbolise "Eden after the fall from grace" or, more prosaically, this "world of sinners" that we inhabit. In your example it has ended up woven into a rug as a repeated symbol to make a pattern, I imagine. When adopted in heraldry it is meant to represent "humility", though Warwick's crowd don't seem to have read the memo in Trike's illustration above!

Hello Triceratops and Nordmann

All is clear now! With your indications and the "rough hewn" definition as a torch in the dark, I have been able to see what the staff was (or is), and then find the exact equivalent in Spanish. As this last term is not what any simple mortal would consider a common word I have added a brief footnote to explain it to the interested reader. The legend makes me think of Tolkien's Thorin Oakenshield, by the way…
Do you know if there's any family relation between the Earls of Warwick and the Earl of Huntingdon? It will be good to link these two (if link there is) for coherence sake.

Thanks again; you're invaluable.

CM

There is no relevant connection between the families (which is not to say that there was never some intermarriage) but even if something was found it would be misleading anyway to cite it on the basis of this symbol alone. In heraldry it had a function and specific meaning relevant to the family motto or character. However in carpets it was more just an effective pattern, and though it has symbolism this was more biblical than heraldic. Many people would have left similar rugs, bedspreads, tapestries etc in their wills, I imagine.

I see, I'll correct that in my footnote.

By the way, Ian Mortiner the author of the book I am translating (very interesting to my mind [The Time Traveller’s Guide to Medieval England, not to be mysterious]), uses with apparently different meanings the words "rug" and "carpet", which tend to be rediced to a single one in almost every Spanish dictionary. One of them (an old Cassell's) indicates that "rug" might also be understood as a "thick blanket" and was using that in order to reserve the "floor rug" as the equivalent for "carpet". Am I right; are they really synonyms; or is it more a question of size, "rug" being small and "carpet" big?

Both "rug" and "carpet" in English diverged in meaning only centuries after the will was published - I believe in 1407 - and the distinction initially was between a woolen or similarly woven covering that could be used on a variety of surfaces and one specifically intended for the floor. The will itself, I imagine, would have been in Latin given the stature of the deceased so it would be interesting to see exactly which word had been used. "Stragulum", for example, would have indicated a large floor covering (carpet), "tapete" would have indicated a more commonly sized floor covering (rug, or mat) and "palleo" would have been used if the covering could double as a bedspread (also rug in some contexts).

That's very good information. I have no access to the original text, probably written in latin, as you said. The only thing I can say is that the text comes from Emery, Dartington Hall, p. 268, who quotes in turn TNA C 145/278 no. 37. It's interesting, because in plain common Spanish "tapete" is an existing word designing a small covering of any fabric (or even plastic in modern times) that you place on a table or a dresser.
I'll stick to the (possible) meaning of bedspread for "rug", because Mortimer's English text comes in the form of a list and "rug" is placed in a long enumeration of beds, baldaquins and other bedroom items.

Thanks a lot, Nordmann, I wish you the best.

I agree with you that "rug" in that context indicates bedspread. It's not so common a use these days but I do remember my granny had a particularly ancient and heavy eiderdown that she invariably referred to as a "rug".

PS: While rooting around t'internet I found a will, also from 1407, of a lad called Thomas Neville of Furnival in Yorkshire ("Furnival" was an estate near Sheffield). Among his possessions, interestingly enough, was "unum alium ciphum auri cum cooperculo ejusdem cum ragged-staves" which translates as "one other gold cup with a lid of the same [metal], [and decorated] with ragged staves". The design, it seems, was either so well known that its English name did not merit translation into Latin, or else the poor clerk himself was bamboozled by the image and didn't even try. He may also have been surprised to see the motif on such a valuable item - according to another Yorkshire source "ragged staves" in ceramic floor tiling was a particular favourite in 14th century Benedictine monasteries for use in their chapter halls. By then the lads were raking the money in so maybe their interior decorators reckoned it wouldn't do them any harm to be reminded of "humility", especially in the room from where the top guy ran the show. If they intended to hint at a future "fall from grace" - its other popular meaning - for their employers then they were being remarkably prescient, given what was to transpire just a century or so later.

I wonder if that "Neville" was a relative of the Warwick Nevilles? My wife's family claim to be related to them Not too sure of that myself.

"Lucubration" - a word alas that died with the advent of the electric light bulb, CM. Dickens once remarked of Disraeli - who he despised - that he was "lucubrant to a degree that only a chandler would love".

Nevilles, GG, pop up all over the place. Strongbow's army must have contained a slew of them when he arrived in Ireland, judging by the multitude of the eponymous progeny they left in their wake. What Tom Neville was doing in Furnival is anyone's guess - he certainly wasn't the landlord in any case, Furnival being the estate of the family with the same moniker who at that time seemed to own half of South Yorkshire. His cup however might suggest a Warwickshire link, though only if the legal clerk hadn't spotted the bear when he was doing his inventory.

ComicMonster wrote:

The only thing I can say is that the text comes from Emery, Dartington Hall, p. 268, who quotes in turn TNA C 145/278 no. 37.

It would be interesting to know where it ranked in that Chancery inventory from 1400. The reason being that the deceased earl's father, Thomas Holland, was a protégé of Thomas Beauchamp, the 11th earl of Warwick. They served together at Crécy and were both founder knights of the Order of the Garter. So it could have been a gift from Beauchamp to Holland. A wedding present perhaps when the latter married Joan of Kent.

Thomas Holland lived a somewhat charmed life as he avoided the charge of treason having wedded his teenage bride without permission of her well-connected family (her father being the son of Edward Longshanks). He even later got the pope to rule in his favour when Joan’s family tried to marry her off in an aristocratic match. Thomas proved to be worthy warrior in the field but was also a gentleman known for observing the ancient codes of war in an age when there was scant regard for them. The Liégeois chronicler Jehan le Bel writes in his Histoire Vraye et Notable des Nouvelles Guerres how in 1346 when the town of Caen fell to Plantagenet forces:

'Le connestable, le chambellan de Tancarville et pluseurs aultres chevaliers et escuiers avecques eulx, se mirent en la porte de la ville et monterent aux fenestres des deffenses, et véoient archiers qui tuoient gens sans deffense et sans pitié, si eurent grand paour qui ainsy ne feissant d’eulx. Ainsy qu’ilz regardoient en grand paour ces gens tuer, ilz perchurent ung gentil chevalier qui n’avoit que ung ouel, qu’on appeloit messire Thomas de Holande, et cinq ou six bons baceliers avecques luy, qui avoient aultres foys compaignié et vue l’ung l’aultre en pluseurs chevauchies, en Prusse, en Guernade et en aultre part. Si les appellèrent et leur dirent en priant: << Ha! pour Dieu, seigneurs chevaliers, venez à mont et nous deffendez des gens sans pitié qui nous tueront, s’ilz nous tiennent ainsy que les aultres. >> Quant les entendi messire Thomas et il les regingnut, il en fut moult joyeux; aussy furent leas aultres compaignons et montèrent en la porte jusques à eulx, et ledit connestable et le chambellan qui là estoient retrais se rendirent prisonniers; et ledit messire Thomas et ses compaignons les recheurent voulentiers et se painèrent de les garder, et puis mirent bonnes gardes entour eulx affin que on ne leur fist mal; et s’en alèrent parmy la ville deffendre et destouber la grande occaision qu’on y faisoit, et préserver bourgoyses et puchelles d’enforcement et de villainie.'

'The constable, the chamberlain de Tancarville and several other knights and squires who were with them, found themselves in the town’s gatehouse and climbed up to the arrowslits from where they saw archers killing unarmed men without mercy and greatly feared that they would shortly suffer the same fate themselves. As they watched these killings in terror, they noticed a gentleman knight who only had one eye and who was called Mr Thomas Holland and five or six men-at-arms with him, known from previous campaigns when they had seen each other at diverse chevauchées in Prussia and Granada and other places. They called to them and said pleading “Ah! For God’s sake, sir knights, come up and save us from these pitiless men who would kill us as they have already done others.” When Mr Thomas heard this and recognised them he became very happy and along with his other companions ascended the gatehouse to them for to make the aforementioned constable and chamberlain sheltering there his prisoners, and Mr Thomas and his companions took them into willing custody and took steps to protect them by setting strong guards around them so that none should harm them; and they then went into the town to disrupt the riot which was taking place and protect the townsfolk and maids there from abuse and villainy.'    
       
I think it’s safe to say that Thomas Holland was a popular and all-round good egg. It’s not recorded, however, what Joan’s reaction was when her groom came back from the wars minus an eye, but reputedly a great beauty herself, she would go on to give Thomas five children.

That's all a long shot, though, as black staves on a white background would not correspond with the white on red Warwick colours as mentioned by Trike.

Sounds like Holland and his mates had perfected the "good knight, bad knight" routine when it came to taking well defended citadels. Send the psychopaths in first with "shock and awe" tactics, and then send the "reasonable" guy - normally a psychopath who was now too old, infirm or otherwise damaged to do much psychopathing any longer - to discuss terms with the besieged. Sieges cost a fortune, and exposed the besiegers themselves to illness and hunger, so any tactic that could shorten one was welcome.

In my sturdy old Encyclopedia of British Architecture (published originally in 1840 with more entries to do with traditional embellishments and heraldry than building techniques) I found also a reference to the ragged staff motif.  Apparently it was also a popular symbol among those who patronised Cluniac monasteries (a "back to basics" branch of the Benedictines who were big into advertising their humility). In the simplistic iconography of early heraldry one ragged staff represented one humble bugger or one humble boss of the humble buggers, while a bunch of them represented a monastery full of them.

In one of those frustrating sequences of "connections" that history tends to throw up and which makes one wonder where investigation-worthy chronology ends and mere coincidence begins, Warwick's Beauchamp heritage is traced back to a lad Urse d'Abbetot who was one of William the Bastard's mercenary land-grabbers in 1066, and this explains the bear. The second bit of Urse's name refererred to St Jean de Abbettot - a town in Northern France which itself was named to distinguish abbey land from a civic township within the same estate. The abbey in question, dedicated to St John, was Cluniac, hence the ragged staff, I imagine.

A lot of William's henchmen when he invaded were "second sons" and lower, their older brothers content with inheriting Norman land in France. Urse was no different - his older brother Jean was top "d'Abbetot" while Urse, prior to the big land-grab opportunity in Britain, was originally intended by the family to be content with the title of Sheriff of the little civic municipality within the family estate.

Which was, as you may already have guessed, the small citadel of Tancarville!

Hello!
I am puzzled again. The good thing is that this time the word was already mentioned in that thread. I am talking about "tapet".
Some sixty pages before the one I am translating right now, the author said this about "tapets":


"[F]ashion never stands still, and never does it change more rapidly than in the mid-fourteenth century. As the disgruntled author of the Brut chronicle points out, people change the shapes and style of their clothing every year. He is not at all happy to have to remark on the use of tapets (trailing pieces of cloth) which courtiers have dangling from their sleeves and hoods, nor on the ‘dagges’ of their clothing (where the edges of fabric are cut into points) nor on their lengthening of hood."

So far so good; but now I peruse a list of household goods of a yeoman, Robert Oldham of Cuxham, and read the following:


Item
Three brass pots
Two pans and a tripod for cooking
Hoops for wooden vessels
Two metal ewers
One basin and ewer
Another basin and ewer
Canvas cloth
A tapet
A tapet with sheets
A tapet with two sheets and four blankets

A tablecloth
A towel…


You can see my predicament: either it's a part of a garment or something related to a bed… And the possibility of "mat" or "rug", as Nordmann indicated [sorry about my lucubration, I think you are totally right, anyway —shame on me—], doesn't seem to fit here neither… 

Thanks again to all of you.

CM

CM - in French un tapis now usually means a rug or similar small floor covering - while une moquette is for bigger, fitted or made-to-measure carpets. But originally in French, un tapis was just any covering: for the floor, a table, the walls (tapisserie ie tapestry), a horse (le tapis de cheval was the basic horse-cloth that goes under the saddle), and also ones showy outer clothing - hence I think 'tapets', meaning the fancy fringes, borders, ornaments, ribbons and 'tapes', adorning ones surcoat. Also in the 19th century the word 'tapet' specifically came to mean wallpaper ie fancy wall covering.

In your quoted example (Robert Oldham of Cuxham's will) I suspect that 'a tapet' was used to mean the most basic under-mattress covering the bare structure of the bed, so probably just a thin flat bag stuffed with straw - in contrast to the much more valuable wool- and feather-stuffed mattresses that sat on top, and which were probably listed separately. When I was young (up 'til I was 22 when my parents moved home) my bed was just a wooden frame with flexible but rather unforgiving wooden slats, covered by an old straw-filled 'palliasse' (from paille - meaning straw) and which was considered part of the basic bed structure ... but on top of that was the bed proper: the mattress (steel-sprung - I wasn't raised in the Middle Ages) with sheets, blankets, coverlets on top.

PS: Note that taper, in French, means to hit, strike or beat, as I'm sure you know ... and so une tapette (noun feminine), while literally meaning a small mat, also implied in 19th century idiomatic French, a 'mat-beater' and so meant a common domestic (female) servant. It is now also, and rather insultingly, slang for a male homosexuel, perhaps deriving from the 'carpet beater' implication ... although, like the English 'queer', this usage has recently become - at least in some situations - a term of some gay pride ... but it should still be used with extreme care.

Hello Meles meles, I see what you mean and I take it face value; I am sure you are right. I actually speak fluently French and I was aware of the ressemblances to tapis, taper and tapette (decidedly insulting in origin, even if it may have been taken as a badge nowadays, just as the impressionists did —¡ces peintres impressionistes!— when so qualified by an outraged critic who angrily spouted that charge to denigrate their emotivism). It seems a rather long detour anyway from "rug" to "long sleeves", but it is not the first time the association of ideas led language vocabularies far from the original root. Thanks for your help.