Previous to the impetus given to child study by the educational
theories of Rousseau, little was written intentionally for children
that would not at the same time appeal to adults. Yet there are
chapters still to be penned, stretching back into English history as
far as 1430 and earlier, when words of instruction were framed for
youth; when conduct, formality, austere manners, complete submission,
were not only becoming to the child, but were forced upon him.[15]
There are several manuscripts extant of that year, 1430, one whose
authorship is ascribed to John Lydgate and which bears the Latin title,
“Puer ad Mensam.” There is also the “Babees Book” of 1475, intended
for those boys of royal blood who served as pages in the palace. The
American student has to reach an understanding of the purport of most
of these treatises from secondary sources; the manuscripts are not
easily accessible, and have so far been utilised only in a fragmentary
character. For the present purpose, the mention of a few examples will
suffice.
We note “A Booke in Englyssh metre, of the great marchaunt man called
Dyves Pragmaticus, very pretye for chyldren to rede; wherby they may
the better, and more readyer rede and wryte Wares and Implementes in
this worlde contayned.... When thou sellest aught unto thy neighbour,
or byest anything of him, deceave not, nor oppresse him, etc. Imprinted
at London in Aldersgate strete by Alexander Lacy, dwellyng beside the
Wall. The XXV. of April 11, 1563.”[16]
Those boys bound out or apprenticed to members of the Middle Age crafts
and guilds perhaps benefited by the moral of this; no doubt they
bethought themselves of the friendly warning, whenever they cried their
master’s wares outside the stalls; perhaps they were forearmed as well
as forewarned by the friendly rules contained in the “Books of Good
Manners” (1560) which, though they could not own, were repeated to
them by others more fortunate. These same boys, who played the angels
in the miracle plays, and the Innocents in the “Rachel” dramas, who
were held suspended by a rope high up in the nave of the church, to
proclaim the birth of the Lord in the Christmas cycles, were actors
also, around 1563, in “A New Enterlude for Chyldren to Play, named
Jacke Jugeler, both wytte, and very playsent.”
Fundamentally, the boys of the early centuries must have been not
unlike the boys of all ages, although the customs of an age usually
stunt whatever is not in conformity with the times. He who, in 1572,
was warned in “Youth’s Behaviour” (“or, Decency in Conversation Amongst
Men, Composed in French by Grave Persons, for the use and benefit of
their youth, now newly turned into English, by Francis Hawkins, nephew
to Sir Thomas Hawkins. The tenth impression.”), was likewise warned in
the New-England township, and needs to be warned to-day. No necessity
to paint the picture in more definite colours than those emanating from
the mandates direct. “Hearing thy Master, or likewise the Preacher,
wriggle not thyself, as seeming unable to contain thyself within thy
skin.” Uncomfortable in frills or stiff collars, and given no backs to
benches, the child was doomed to a dreary sermon full of brimstone and
fire; he was expected, “in yawning, [to] howl not.” The translation,
it will be remarked, was made by Master Francis when he had scarce
attained the age of eight; this may be considered precocious, but, when
French was more the official language than English, it was necessary
that all persons of any distinction should have a mastery of the polite
tongue, even though they might remain not so well equipped in the
language of learning.[17] Hawkins was therefore carefully exercised and
the translation became a task in a twofold way. His uncle soon followed
the first section of “Youth’s Behaviour” with a second part, intended
for girls.
Poor starved souls of those young gentlewomen of the sixteenth century,
who were recommended, for their entertainment in hours of recreation,
to read “God’s Revenge against Murther; and the Arcadia of Sir Philip
Sydney; Artemidorus, his Interpretation of Dreams. And for the business
of their devotion, there is an excellent book entitled Taylor’s Holy
Living and Dying; The Duty of Man in which the Duty to God and man are
both comprehended.” Such guidance is not peculiar alone to this period.
It was followed, in slightly simplified form, throughout the didactic
school of writing.
Fortunately we are able, by means of our historical imagination, to
fill up the interstices of this grave assemblage with something of
a more entertaining character; we have a right to include the folk
tales, the local legends and hero deeds which have descended to us
through countless telling. Romance and interest still lie buried in
annals which might be gathered together, dealing with the lives of
those nurses who reared ancient kings. As a factor in the early period
of children’s literature, the grandam is of vast meaning.
About the time of which we have just been speaking, as early as
1570, little folks began learning their letters from horn-books and
“battle-dores.” Take an abacus frame and transfer the handle to one of
its sides as a base. Within the frame insert a single leaf of thick
cardboard, on one side of which place the alphabet, large and small,
lettered heavily in black. Then, with the regularity of a regiment,
string out three or four slender columns of monosyllables. Do we not
here detect the faint glimmer of our college song, “b-a, ba; b-e,
be; b-i, bi; babebi”? Should one side not hold all this, use both,
although it is not preferable to do so. However, it _is_ essential
that ample room be left in any case for the inclusion of the Lord’s
Prayer. When this is done, slip over the face of the cardboard a
clear piece of diaphanous horn, in default of which isinglass will
suffice. Through the handle bore a hole, into which run a string.
Finally, attach your handiwork to a girdle or belt, and behold, you
are transformed into a school child of the Middle Ages! Your abacus
has become a horn-book, quite as much by reason of its horn surface,
as because of its essential use. Should you be looking for historical
accuracy, let the “Christ-cross” precede the alphabet, whence it will
become apparent why our letters are often styled the Criss-cross row.
Flourishing until some time during the reign of George II, these
curiosities are now rare indeed. There is little of an attractive
nature in such a “lesson-book,” but childhood had its compensations,
for there is preserved the cheerful news that horn-books were often
made of gingerbread. Were these the forebears of our animal crackers or
our spiced alphabets?
A survey of chap-books[18] presents a picture of literature trying to
be popular; we find all classes of people being catered to, young and
old, rich and poor. The multitude of assorted pamphlets reflects the
manners, the superstitions, the popular customs of rustics; the stories
stretch from the humourous to the strictly religious type. There are
many examples preserved, for not until well on in the nineteenth
century were chap-books supplanted in favour. To-day, the largest
collection that the world possesses, garnered by Professor Child, is to
be found in the Harvard University Library; but the Bodleian and the
British Museum claim to be richer in early examples, extending back to
1598.
Charles Gerring, calling the chap-books “uninviting, poor, starved
things,” yet lays before readers not an unwholesome array of goods. He
writes:
“For the lads, there were tales of action, of adventure, sometimes
truculently sensational; for the girls were stories of a more domestic
character; for the tradesmen, there was the ‘King and the Cobbler,’
or ‘Long Tom the Carrier’; for the soldier and the sailor, ‘Admiral
Blake,’ ‘Johnny Armstrong,’ and ‘Chevy Chase’; for the lovers, ‘Patient
Grissil’ and ‘Delights for Young Men and Maids’; for the serving-lad,
‘Tom Hickathrift’[19] and ‘Sir Richard Whittington’; while the
serving-maid then, as now, would prefer ‘The Egyptian Fortune Teller,’
or ‘The Interpretation of Dreams and Moles.’”
Every phase of human nature was thus served up for a penny. In those
days, people were more apt to want tales with heroes and heroines
of their own rank and station; a certain appropriateness in this way
was satisfied. Such correspondence was common as early as 1415, when
a mystery play was presented by the crafts, and the Plasterers were
given the “Creation of the World” to depict, while the Chandlers were
assigned the “Lighting of the Star” upon the birth of Christ.
There were to be had primers, song-books, and joke-books; histories,
stories, and hero tales. Printed in type to ruin eyes, pictured in
wood-cuts to startle fancy and to shock taste--for they were not always
suited to childhood--these pamphlets, 2½″ × 3½″, sometimes 5½″ × 4¼″
in size, and composed of from four to twenty-four pages, served a
useful purpose. They placed literature within reach of all who could
read. Queer dreams, piety of a pronounced nature, jests with a ribald
meaning, and riddles comprised the content of many of them. A child who
could not buy a horn-book turned to the “battle-dore” with his penny--a
crude sheet of cardboard, bicoloured and folded either once or twice,
with printing on both sides; the reading matter was never-failingly the
same in these horn-books and “battle-dores,” although sometimes the
wood-cuts varied. A horn-book is recorded with a picture of Charles I
upon it.
The sixteenth or seventeenth-century boy could own his “Jack and the
Giants” and “Guy of Warwick,” his “Hector of Troy” and “Hercules of
Greece”; he could even have the latest imported novelty. Some believe
that because Shakespeare based many of his plays upon Continental
legends, a demand was started for such chap-books as “Fortunatus,”
“Titus Andronicus,” or “Valentine and Orson.” The printers of these
crude booklets were on the alert for every form of writing having
a popular appeal; there was rivalry among them as there is rivalry
among publishers to-day. Not long after the appearance of the English
translation of Perrault’s “Tales of Mother Goose,” each one of them,
given a separate and attractive form--“Blue-beard” in awful ferocity,
“Cinderella” in gorgeous apparel, and the others--was made into a
chap-book. In Ashton, we find mention of an early catalogue “of Maps,
Prints, Copy-books, Drawing-books, Histories, Old Ballads, Patters,
Collections, etc., printed and sold by Cluer Dicey and Richard Marshall
at the Printing-Office in Aldermary (4) Church Yard, London. Printed in
the year MDCCLXIV.” These men appear to have been important chap-book
publishers.
The hawkers, who went through the streets and who travelled the
country-side, much as our pioneer traders were accustomed to do, were
termed chapmen. They were eloquent in the manner of describing their
display; they were zealous as to their line of trade. Imagine, if you
will, the scene in some isolated village--the wild excitement when the
good man arrived. He was known to Piers Plowman in 1362, he perhaps
wandered not far away from the Canterbury Pilgrims; each of Chaucer’s
Tales might well be fashioned as a chap-book. Along the dusty highway
this old-time peddler travelled, with packet on his back and a stout
staff in hand--such a character maybe as Dougal Grahame, hunch-backed
and cross-eyed--by professions, a town crier and bellman, as well as a
trader in literature. On his tongue’s tip he carried the latest gossip;
he served as an instrument of cross-fertilisation, bringing London-town
in touch with Edinburgh or Glasgow, and with small hamlets on the way.
“Do you wish to know, my lady,” he would ask, “how fares the weather
on the morrow?” From the depths of his packet he would draw “The
Shepherd’s Prognostication” (1673), wherein is told that “the
blust’ring and noise of leaves and trees and woods, or _other places_
is a token of foul weather.” “And prithee, mistress,” he would add,
“I have a warning herein for you. A mole on the forehead denotes fair
riches, but yonder brown spot on your eyebrow bids me tell you to
refrain from marriage, for if he marry you, he shall have seven wives
in his life-time!”
Many a modern reader would be interested in the detailed directions
given for falling in love and for falling out again; for determining
whom fate had decreed as the husband, or who was to be the wife. It
is more wholesome in these days to name the four corners of a bedroom
than to submit to the charm of a pared onion, wrapped in a kerchief and
placed on the pillow; yet the two methods must be related.
For the little ones, there were picture-books in bright colours, smug
in their anachronisms. The manufacturers of chap-books never hesitated
to use the same wood-cuts over and over again; Queen Anne might figure
in a history, but she served as well in the capacity of Sleeping
Beauty; more appropriate in its historical application seems to have
been the appearance of Henry VIII as Jack the Giant-Killer.
The subject of chap-books is alluring; the few elements here noted
suggest how rich in local colour the material is. Undoubtedly the roots
of juvenile literature are firmly twined about these penny sheets.
Their circulation is a matter that brings the social student in touch
with the middle-class life. Not only the chap-books and the horn-books,
but the so-called Garlands, rudimentary anthologies of popular poems
and spirited ballads, served to relieve the drudgery of commonplace
lives, toned the sluggish mind by quickening the imagination. A curious
part of the history of these Garlands is their sudden disappearance,
brought about by two types of hawkers, known as the “Primers-up” and
“Long-Song Sellers,” who peddled a new kind of ware.
The Primers-up are relatives of our city venders. They clung to
corners, where dead walls gave them opportunity to pin their literature
within sight of the public. Wherever there happened to be an unoccupied
house, one of these fellows would be found with his songs, coarse,
sentimental, and spirited, cut in slips a yard long--three yards for a
penny. Thus displayed, he would next open a gaudy umbrella, upon the
under side of which an art gallery of cheap prints was free to look
upon. Conjure up for yourselves the apprentice peering beneath the
large circumference of such a gingham tent.
Across the way, the Long-Song Sellers marched up and down, holding
aloft stout poles, from which streamed varied ribbons of verse--rhythm
fluttering in the breeze--and yelling, “Three yards a penny, songs,
beautiful songs, nooest songs.”
It is apparent that much of the horn-book is incorporated in the
“New England Primer,” although the development of the latter may be
considered independently. The Primer is an indispensable part of
Puritan history in America, despite the fact that its source extends
as far back as the time of Henry VIII, when it was probably regarded
more in the light of a devotional than of an educational book. The
earliest mention of it in New England was that published in the Boston
_Almanac_ of 1691, when Benjamin Harris, bookseller and printer,
called attention to its second impression.[20] Before that, in 1685,
Samuel Green, a Boston printer, issued a primer which he called “The
Protestant Teacher for Children,” and a copy of which may be seen
in the library of the American Antiquarian Society of Worcester,
Massachusetts. The title would indicate also that in America the primer
for children at first served the same purpose as the morality play for
adults in England; it was a vehicle for religious instruction.
The oldest existent copy of the New England Primer bears the imprint
of Thomas Fleet, son-in-law of the famous Mrs. Goose, of whom we shall
speak later. This was in 1737. Before then, in 1708, Benjamin Eliot of
Boston, probably encouraged by earlier editions of primers, advertised
“The First Book for Children; or, The Compleat School-Mistress”;
and Timothy Green in 1715 announced “A Primer for the Colony of
Connecticut; or, an Introduction to the True Reading of English. To
which is added Milk for Babes.” This latter title suggests the name of
the Reverend John Cotton, and, furthermore, the name of Cotton Mather,
one of the austere writers, as the titles of his books alone bear
witness.
Six copies of the New England Primer lay before me, brown paper covers,
dry with age; blue boards, worn with much handling; others in gray
and green that have faded like the age which gave them birth. The boy
who brought them to me wore a broad smile upon his face; perhaps he
was wondering why I wished such toy books, no larger than 3¼″ × 2½″.
He held them all in one hand so as to show his superior strength. Yet
had he been taken into the dark corridor between the book stacks, and
had he been shown the contents of those crinkly leaves, there might
have crept over him some remnant of the feeling of awe which must
have seized the Colonial boy and girl. What would he have thought
of the dutiful child’s promises, or of the moral precepts, had they
been read to him? Would he have shrunk backward at the description
of the bad boy? Would he have beamed with youthful hope of salvation
upon the picture of the good boy? It is doubtful whether the naughty
girls, called “hussies,” ever reformed; it is doubtful whether they
ever wanted to be the good girl of the verses. That smiling boy of the
present would have turned grave over the cut of Mr. John Rogers in the
flames, despite the placid expression of wonderful patience over the
martyr’s face; his knees would have trembled at the sombre meaning of
the lines:
“I in the burial place may see
Graves shorter far than I;
From death’s arrest no age is free,
Young children too may die.”
The New England Primers[21] were called pleasant guides; they taught
that the longest life is a lingering death. There was the fear instead
of the love of God in the text, and yet the type of manhood fostered
by such teaching was no wavering type, no half-way spirit. The
Puritan travelled the narrow road, but he faced it, however dark the
consequences.
Sufficient has been said to give some idea of the part occupied by
these early publications--whether horn-book, chap-book, or primer. They
bore an intimate relation to the life of the child; they were, together
with the Almanack, which is typified by that of “Poor Richard,” and
with the Calendar, part of a development which may be traced, with
equal profit, in England, Scotland, France, and Germany. Their full
history is fraught with human significance.