It will be seen that the earlier example of the two illustrated is dated in London, 1572, the year of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew. It has the almost straight sides, narrowing slightly towards the top and broadening towards the foot. It is decorated with chased floriated design, relieved by vertical bands continued on the cover to the apex. The cover is surmounted by a button, in form like a seal-top spoon of a later era. The handle is bold, and it lacks the strengthening band at the base which is shown in the adjacent example, where the handle is joined to the barrel by a band. The marks will be seen on the face of the piece in the middle of the surface below the cover. The other example bears the London date letter for 1599, towards the close of Elizabeth’s reign. The piece is of fine proportions, with massive scroll handle. The cover, as in these earlier examples, is dome-shaped, and is surmounted by a circular radiating disc with baluster ornament. The billet, or thumb-piece, is chased with a man’s head. The decoration of the barrel is of the style frequently found upon tankards and bell salts of the late Elizabethan period and in the early years of James I, that is formal strap work, and scroll leafage incised in outline. The ground between is matted. In passing it may be noticed that this strap design was seized later by the woodworker in his panel work. The body rests on an applied foot, which is repoussé and chased with scroll outlines, similar to the cover. Two bands pass around the barrel and the lower one secures the handle. A panel with female head in relief adds dignity to a specimen which is of exceptional character. Seventeenth Century Tankards The word “tankard” belongs to an earlier period than the seventeenth century. It is of widespread derivation. In old French it is _tanquaerd_, in old Dutch it is _tankaerd_, and in Irish it is _tancaird_. And no doubt all three races drank well from these vessels. In the sixteenth century Ben Jonson says: Hath his _tankard_ touch’d your brain? Sure they’re fall’n asleep again. [Illustration: TANKARDS. WILLIAM III. 1701. Maker, David Williams. Scroll handle with applique row of rosettes. CHARLES II. 1679. Chased acanthus leaf handle with beaded ornament. Lower part chased with acanthus leaves.] [Illustration: CHARLES II TANKARDS. 1684. Maker, George Gibson, York. Maker, William Busfield, York. (_By courtesy of Messrs. Crichton Brothers._)] “When any calls for ale,” says Swift, “fill the largest _tankard_ cup top full.” But silversmiths and collectors have their own nomenclature apart from poets, and the tankard belongs, in spite of literary proof to the contrary, to the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. It is the poet, again, who has continued the use of the word flagon, regardless of the anachronism. Be it a tankard, a mug, jug, can, pot, bottle or glass, such prosaic terms are swept aside in verse to figure as the “flagon” or the “flowing bowl.”