Turning from the colour of the cloth to the garments into which it was fashioned, nothing could be more natural to our forefathers than to take off with a sobriquet the more whimsical aspects of dress indulged in by particular individuals. Royalty itself did not escape. It was through his introduction of a new fashion our second Henry got his nickname of ‘Curtmantel,’ and this was matched by ‘Capet’ and ‘Grisegonel’ across the water. ‘Richard Curtepy’ reminds us of the poor clerk of whom Chaucer says— Full thredbare was his overest courtepy, that is, his cloak or gabardine. ‘Henry Curtmantle,’ just mentioned, ‘Martin Curtwallet,’ and ‘Robert Curthose’ (still existing in Derbyshire in the more Saxon form of ‘Shorthose’),[494] satirise the introduction of a curtailment in the general as ‘Reginald Curtbrant’ does in the more military habit; ‘Richard Widehose’ and the Scotch ‘Macklehose,’ on the other hand, suggesting a change of an opposite and more sailorlike character. ‘Hose,’ itself a surname, is again found in composition in ‘Richard Goldhose,’ ‘Nicholas Strokehose,’ ‘John Scrothose’ (‘Scratchhose,’), and ‘Richard Letherhose;’ the latter still to be met with in Germany as ‘Ledderhose.’ ‘Emma Wastehose,’ though now obsolete, evidently bespoke the reckless habits of the wearer, while ‘John Sprenhose’ (_i.e._, ‘Spurnhose’) seems to have declared its owner’s want of appreciation of that article altogether. The old ‘paletoque’ or doublet, a loose kind of frock often worn by priests, left itself a memorial in ‘Thomas Pyletok,’ which is now extinct, but ‘Pylch’ (‘Symon Pylche,’ A.), the maker of which has already been mentioned, remains hale and hearty in our midst. ‘Mantel’ (‘Walter Mantel,’ L.) and ‘Fremantel’[495] are well established among us, the latter probably owing its origin to the frieze-cloth which the Frieslander of the Low Countries once manufactured out of our own wool. It is Latinized in our records into ‘Hugh de Frigido-Mantello,’ and the cloth itself as ‘Frisius pannus.’[496] The herald’s tunic, barely covering the chest and open from the shoulder downwards, gave us our ‘Tabards.’ It must have had plenty of last in it, for Piers Plowman talks of— A tawny tabard of twelf wynters age. The variegated dress, much in favour then apparently, still survives in our ‘Medlecote’ and ‘Medlicott.’[497] The stuffed doublet gave us ‘Thomas Gambeson,’ now perhaps ‘Gamson,’ while the short petticoat is memorialised in ‘John Grenecurtel.’ ‘Alicia Caperon’ and ‘Thomas Chaperoun’ are early found. The _chaperon_ was a hood by which the entire face could be concealed if it were so desired. Taylor, in the seventeenth century, mentions it as but recently out of fashion— Her _shapperoones_, her periwigs and tires, Are reliques which this flattery much admires. It is thus, by a somewhat strange but easy association of ideas, has come our modern protector in society so called.