Franklin (class)

To liven in delyt was ever his wone,
For he was Epicurus owne sone
    —Chaucer

In the Kingdom of England from the 12th to 15th centuries, a franklin was a member of a certain social class or rank. In the Middle English period, a franklin was simply a freeman; that is, a man who was not a serf. In the feudal system under which people were tied to land which they did not own, serfs were in bondage to a member of the nobility who owned that land. The surname "Fry", derived from the Old English "frig" ("free born"), indicates a similar social origin.

Quotes

• A Frankeleyn was in his companye;
  Whyt was his berd, as is the dayesye.
  Of his complexioun he was sangwyn.
  Wel loved he by the morwe a sop in wyn.
  To liven in delyt was ever his wone,
  For he was Epicurus owne sone,
  That heeld opinioun, that pleyn delyt
  Was verraily felicitee parfyt.
  An housholdere, and that a greet, was he;
  Seint Iulian he was in his contree.
  His breed, his ale, was alwey after oon;
  A bettre envyned man was no-wher noon.
  With-oute bake mete was never his hous,
  Of fish and flesh, and that so plentevous,
  It snewed in his hous of mete and drinke,
  Of alle deyntees that men coude thinke.
  After the sondry sesons of the yeer,
  So chaunged he his mete and his soper.
  Ful many a fat partrich hadde he in mewe,
  And many a breem and many a luce in stewe.
  Wo was his cook, but-if his sauce were
  Poynaunt and sharp, and redy al his gere.
  His table dormant in his halle alway
  Stood redy covered al the longe day.
  At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire;
  Ful ofte tyme he was knight of the shire.
  An anlas and a gipser al of silk
  Heng at his girdel, whyt as morne milk.
  A shirreve hadde he been, and a countour;
  Was no-wher such a worthy vavasour.
  • Geoffrey Chaucer, "General Prologue", Canterbury Tales (c. 1380s)
  • W. W. Skeat, ed., The Complete Works of Geoffrey Chaucer, IV (Oxford, 1900)

• His outside is an ancient Yeoman of England, though his inside may give arms (with the best gentleman) and ne'er see the herald. There is no truer servant in the house than himself. Though he be master, he says not to his servants, 'Go to field,' but, 'Let us go;' and with his own eye doth both fatten his flock and set forward all manner of husbandry. He is taught by nature to be contented with a little; his own fold yields him both food and raiment: he is pleased with any nourishment God sends, whilst curious gluttony ransacks, as it were, Noah's Ark for food, only to feed the riot of one meal. He is ne'er known to go to law; understanding to be law-bound among men is like to be hide-bound among his beasts; they thrive not under it: and that such men sleep as unquietly as if their pillows were stuffed with Lawyers' penknives. When he builds, no poor tenant's cottage hinders his prospect: they are indeed his Almshouses, though there be painted on them no such superscription: he never sits up late, but when he hunts the Badger, the vowed foe of his Lambs: nor uses he any cruelty, but when he hunts the hare, nor subtilty, but when he setteth snares for the Snite or pitfalls for the Blackbird; nor oppression, but when in the month of July he goes to the next river and shears his sheep. He allows of honest pastime, and thinks not the bones of the dead anything bruised, or the worse for it, though the country lasses dance in the churchyard after evensong. Rock Monday, and the Wake in Summer, Shrovings, the wakeful catches on Christmas Eve, the Hoky, or Seed-cake, these he yearly keeps, yet holds them no relics of Popery. He is not so inquisitive after news derived from the privy closet, when the finding an aerie of Hawks in his own ground, or the foaling of a Colt come of a good strain, are tidings more pleasant, more profitable. He is lord paramount within himself, though he hold by never so mean a Tenure; and dies the more contentedly (though he leave his heir young), in regard he leaves him not liable to a covetous Guardian. Lastly, to end him: he cares not when his end comes, he needs not fear his Audit, for his quietus is in heaven.
  • Sir Thomas Overbury, Sir Thomas Overburye His Wife, &c.
  • "A Franklin", in The Oxford Book of English Prose (1925), no. 121

• The situation of the inferior gentry, or Franklins, as they were called, who, by the law and spirit of the English constitution, were entitled to hold themselves independent of feudal tyranny, became now unusually precarious. If, as was most generally the case, they placed themselves under the protection of any of the petty kings in their vicinity, accepted of feudal offices in his household, or bound themselves by mutual treaties of alliance and protection, to support him in his enterprises, they might indeed purchase temporary repose; but it must be with the sacrifice of that independence which was so dear to every English bosom, and at the certain hazard of being involved as a party in whatever rash expedition the ambition of their protector might lead him to undertake. On the other hand, such and so multiplied were the means of vexation and oppression possessed by the great Barons, that they never wanted the pretext, and seldom the will, to harass and pursue, even to the very edge of destruction, any of their less powerful neighbours, who attempted to separate themselves from their authority, and to trust for their protection, during the dangers of the times, to their own inoffensive conduct, and to the laws of the land.
  • Sir Walter Scott, Ivanhoe (1819), Ch. I

• This wealthy franklin is proud, fierce, jealous, and irritable, a withstander of the nobility, and even of his neighbours, Reginald Front-de-Bœuf and Philip Malvoisin, who are no babies to strive with. He stands up sternly for the privileges of his race, and is so proud of his uninterrupted descend from Hereward, a renowned champion of the Heptarchy, that he is universally called Cedric the Saxon; and makes a boast of his belonging to a people from whom many others endeavour to hide their descent, lest they should encounter a share of the vae victis, or severities imposed upon the vanquished.
  • Sir Walter Scott, Ivanhoe (1819), Chapter II