period they were known as communion cups.  In Sandwich there is a cup which was made over out of a ciborium; as it quite plainly shows its origin, it is naively inscribed:  “This is a Communion Coop.”  When this change in the form of the chalice took place, it was provided, by admonition of the Archbishop, in all cases with a “cover of silver... which shall serve also for the ministration of the Communion bread.”  To make this double use of cover and dish satisfactory, a foot like a stand was added to the paten.

The communion cup of the Reformation differed from the chalice, too, in being taller and straighter, with a deep bowl, almost in the proportions of a flaring tumbler, and a stem with a few close decorations instead of a knop.  The small paten served as a cover to the cup, as has been mentioned.

It is not always easy to see old church plate where it originally belonged.  On the Scottish border, for instance, there were constant raids, when the Scots would descend upon the English parish churches, and bear off the communion plate, and again the English would cross the border and return the compliment.  In old churches, such as the eleventh century structure at Torpenhow, in Cumberland, the deep sockets still to be seen in the stone door jambs were intended to support great beams with which the church had constantly to be fortified against Scottish invasion.  Another reason for the disappearance of church plate, was the occasional sale of the silver in order to continue necessary repairs on the fabric.  In a church in Norfolk, there is a record of sale of communion silver and “for altering of our church and fynnishing of the same according to our mindes and the parishioners.”  It goes on to state that the proceeds were appropriated for putting new glass in the place of certain windows “wherein were conteined the lives of certain prophane histories,” and for “paving the king’s highway” in the church precincts.  At the time of the Reformation many valuable examples of Church plate were cast aside by order of the Commissioners, by which “all monuments of feyned miracles, pilgrimages, idolatry, and superstition,” were to be destroyed.  At this time a calf or a sheep might have been seen browsing in the meadows with a sacring-bell fastened at its neck, and the pigs refreshed themselves with drinking from holy-water fonts!

Croziers of ornate design especially roused the ire of the Puritans.  In Mr. Alfred Maskell’s incomparable book on Ivories, he translates a satirical verse by Guy de Coquille, concerning these objectionable pastoral staves (which were often made of finely sculptured ivory).

  “The staff of a bishop of days that are old
   Was of wood, and the bishop himself was of gold. 
   But a bishop of wood prefers gorgeous array,
   So his staff is of gold in the new fashioned way!”