‘De la Spence,’ as well as ‘le Spencer,’ has impressed itself upon our living nomenclature. Our ‘Panters,’ ‘Pantlers,’ and ferocious-seeming ‘Panthers,’ descendants of such folk as ‘Richard le Panter,’ or ‘Robert le Paneter,’ or ‘Henry de le Paneterie,’ are but relics of a similar office. They had the superintendence of the ‘paneterie,’ or pantry; literally, of course, the bread closet. It seems, however, early to have become used in a wider and more general sense. In the Household Ordinances of Edward IV. one of the sergeants is styled ‘the chief Pantrer of the King’s mouth.’ John Russel in his ‘Boke of Nurture’ thus directs his student— The furst yere, my son, thou shalt be pantere or buttilare, Thou must have three knyffes kene in pantry, I sey thee, evermare, One knyfe the loaves to choppe, another them for to pare, The third, sharp and kene, to smothe the trenchers and square.[200] Of the old ‘Achatour’ (found as ‘Henry le Catour’ or ‘Bernard le Acatour’), the purveyor for the establishment, we have many memorials, those of ‘Cater,’ ‘Cator,’ and ‘Caterer’ being the commonest. Chaucer quaintly remarks of the ‘Manciple,’[201] who was so Wise in buying of victuals, that of him Achatours mighten take ensample. The provisions thus purchased were called ‘cates,’ a favourite word with some of our later poets. Equivalent to the more monastic ‘le Cellarer,’[202] which is now obsolete, are our numberless ‘Butlers,’ the most accepted form of the endless ‘Teobald le Botilers,’ ‘Richer le Botillers,’ ‘Ralph le Botelers,’ ‘William le Botellers,’ ‘Walter le Butillers,’ or ‘Hugh le Buteilliers,’ of this time. As we shall observe by-and-by, however, this was also an occupative name.[203] With so many officers to look after the preparations, we should expect the dinner itself to be somewhat ceremonious. And so it was—far more ceremonious, however, than elegant in the light of the nineteenth century. Our ‘Senechals’ and ‘Senecals’ (‘Alexander le Seneschal,’ B., ‘Ivo Seneschallus,’ T.), relics of the ancient ‘seneschal,’ Latinized in our records as ‘Dapifer’ (‘Henry Dapifer,’ A.), arranged the table. The root of this word is the Saxon ‘schalk,’ a servant which, though now wholly obsolete, seems to have been in familiar use in early times.[204] An old poem tells us— Then the schalkes sharply shift their horses, To show them seemly in their sheen weeds. In ‘Sir Gawayne,’ too, the attendant is thus described— Clene spurs under Of bright golde, upon silk bordes, barred full rich, And scholes (depending) under shanks, there the schalk rides.