CHAPTER VI

THE WOMEN OF THE MANORS

The limited means of travel and communication caused the lives of

the women of the early English manors to be secluded and, in a sense,

protected the wives and daughters of the titled nobility. The manor

house was a world to itself, a centre of law, of society, of industry,

and, ofttimes, of culture.

On account of the bad state of the roads and the lack of the modern

convenience of quick transmittal of information, the turmoils and

upheavals of the cities left the manors unaffected by more than

a ripple of their excitement. The manor had its own social and

administrative system, which provided for the performance of duties by

the various elements of the manorial establishment. In times of wide

social disorder, the manor, by reason of its isolation, was often

subject to attack; then the courage and fortitude of its female

occupants were called forth to the uttermost. Women whose names

might otherwise have passed into obscurity have been enrolled among

England's heroines by reason of just such circumstances; one such,

whose fame carries us back to the Wars of the Roses, was Lady Joan

Pelham, wife of Sir John Pelham, Constable of Pevensey Castle. While

Sir John was in Yorkshire with the Lancastrian Duke Henry, fighting

against Richard II., Pevensey Castle was fiercely attacked by

Yorkist forces. The continuance of the siege brought on a scarcity

of provisions; in this strait, Lady Joan addressed a letter to her

husband, which, besides displaying the courage of a noble English

lady, has the additional interest of being the earliest letter extant

written by an English woman of quality. It reads as follows:

"MY DERE LORDE:

"I recommande me to yowr his Lordeshippe wyth heart and body and all

my pore myght, and wyth all this I think zou, as my dere Lorde, derest

and best yloved of all earth lyche Lordes; I say for me and thanke

yhow me der Lorde, with all thys that I say before, off your

comfortable lettre, that ze send me from Pownefraite that com to me on

Mary Magdaleyn day; ffor by my trowth I was never so gladd as when I

herd by your lettre that ye was stronge ynogh wyth the grace off God

for to kepe you fro the malyce of your ennemys. And dere Lorde iff it

lyk to your hyee Lordeshippe that als ye myght, that smythe her off

your gracious spede whych God Allmyghty contynue and encresse. And my

dere Lorde, if is lyk zow for to know of my ffare, I am here by layd

in a manner off a sege, wyth the counte of Sussex, Sudray, and a green

parsyll off Kentte; so that I ne may nogth out, nor none vitayles

gette me, hot wyth my die hard. Wharfore my dere if it lyk zow, by the

awyse off zowr wyse counsel for to sett remadye off the salvation off

yhower castells wt. stand the malyce off ther sehures foresayde. And

also that ye be fullyehe enformede off there grett malyce wyker's in

these schyres whyche yt haffes so dispytfful wrogth to zow, and to

zowl contell, to zhowr men, and zuor tenaunts ffore this cuntree, have

yai wastede for grett whyle. Farewell my dere Lorde, the Holy Tryn zow

kepe fro zour ennemys and son send me gud tythyng off yhow. Ywryten at

Pevensey in the castell, on Saynt Jacobe day last past.

"By yhowr awnn pore,

"J. PELHAM.

"To my trew Lorde."

While her position gave her equal rank with her husband, it also laid

upon the lady of the manor the cares natural to her station. A great

lady had always her bodyguard of maidens, and the lord his following

of pages, these young people being thus provided for that they

might receive the training of gentility and courtesy which were the

essentials in the character of the noble persons of the times. These

maidens, who were intrusted to the care of the lady of the manor, had

to be trained in all domestic accomplishments as well as in polite

attainments. It is singular that this custom of sending children from

home was often interpreted by foreigners as an evidence of a lack of

parental affection; and, indeed, it did at times furnish a means of

easy riddance of daughters whose tempers were incompatible with those

of their parents, or whose self-will--or the selfish policy of the

household--made it desirable for the parents to sever the tie which

lacked the strength of affection. Thus, in 1469, Dame Margaret Paston

writes to her son, Sir John Paston, regarding his sister Margery: "I

wuld ye shuld purvey for yur suster to be with my Lady of Oxford, or

with my Lady of Bedford, or in sume other wurshepfull place, wher as

ye thynk best, and I wull help to her fyndyng, for we be eyther of us

werye of other."

It will be seen from this fashion of the times--more particularly of

the latter part of the Middle Ages--that a knight's lady performed

many of the functions of a mistress of a boarding school. Those

intrusted to her care, regardless of their rank or station, were

subjected to rigid discipline and were required to perform the arduous

duties of the household. These tasks embraced the varied forms

of plain and fancy needlework, for every lady was expected to be

proficient in such matters; all wearing apparel and fabrics of all

sorts required for household use, and the banners and altar cloths of

the churches as well, were made in the household. When the household

was a large one, the lady and her maidens were kept busily employed

in attending to its needs. It is, however, entirely probable that

the manufacture of the coarser materials and their making into

clothing were delegated to the servants, of whom every manor had

a large retinue. The designing and making of the costumes of the

wealthy--especially those that were to be worn on court and other high

occasions--were given over to professional tailors, who were called

"scissors."

The round of domestic duty made daily drafts upon the time of the

wives. In every family of the higher class, the lady of the household

had to see to the provisioning as well as to the clothing of its

members and servitors. This was not a simple matter, as the provisions

had to be supplied at the cost of great inconvenience, excepting in

the case of the products of the manor farms belonging to the estate.

The stewards' accounts are often a valuable source of information as

to the grade of living of the times.

In view of the industry of the women in the manufacture of textile

fabrics, the poet's eulogy is deserved:

"Of gold tissues, and cloth of silk;

Therefore say I, whate'er their ilk,

To all who shall this story find

They owe them all to womankind."

The limits of the manor formed the horizon of its women; the men

frequently had to make long journeys in the pursuit of their larger

concerns, and were often in foreign lands serving as soldiers or

crusaders. But the lack of variety in the lives of the women was more

than compensated for by the opportunities which were furnished them

by quiet and seclusion for the improvement of their minds and the

cultivation of those finer qualities of character which are the basis

of the refinement and good manners of the cultivated English women

of the present day. It is not too much to say of the Middle Ages that

without the peculiar circumstances of manorial living, the culture,

confidence, self-containment, and initiative of the English woman

would not have become as they are--her predominant characteristics.

So effectual, indeed, were the conditions of the times for seclusion,

and so greatly were its privileges appreciated, that it could be said

of many a fine lady, as was asserted of Lady Joan Berkeley, that she

never "humored herselfe with the vaine delightes of London and other

cities," and never travelled ten miles from her husband's houses in

Somerset and Gloucester.

The life of the manors was not, however, a round of tireless industry.

The ruddy-cheeked, simple-minded English women of the better class

were possessed of a redundant vitality and a fund of joyousness and

humor which sought and found expression in a variety of healthful

outdoor recreations, as well as indoor amusements. The pleasing art

of letter writing had come to hold a position of interest in polite

circles; for although the women may not have been skilled with the

quill, their letters were nevertheless natural, simple, and sincere,

and they were fairly proficient in the art of reading. Their religious

duties occupied a part of each day, as did their visitation of the

homes of the dependants on the estate; for it was the lady of the

manor who was looked to by the poor for herbal medicines and such

delicacies as were supplied to the sick. Great ladies sometimes

recognized their duties to the poor not only by giving individual

doles, but by founding almshouses. Nearly every lady of distinction

felt it incumbent upon her to do something for the relief of suffering

and distress. It is especially pleasing to know that it was the women

whose sensibilities were thus touched, and who were first influenced

by the idea of social responsibility for the less fortunate classes of

society. The records of the times abound with instances of benevolence

in institutional forms. When it was impracticable for her to be her

own almoner, the lady employed for the office a monk or a priest, and

so associated her charities with the Church, by the teachings of which

her impulses were trained. The saints' days were customarily observed

by especial and important contributions for the poor.

Were it not for the manors, the Middle Ages would lack almost

altogether poetry and literature other than that of the monkish

chroniclers. Literature and poetry in this period were chiefly centred

around the women of the nobility. It was probably due to the fondness

of Henry I. for letters that a literary taste was excited among his

queens. The earliest specimens existing of vernacular poetry are some

verses addressed to Henry's second spouse, Adeliza. Feminine taste

and royal patronage combined to free poetry from the pollution of

the minstrel and his circle of vulgar auditors, to cause it to be

cultivated by studious men and women, whose tastes had become refined

by the study of the Latin classics, and who were themselves emulous of

gaining a literary reputation by the cultivation of the art of serious

composition.

Vernacular poetry, having the sanction and esteem of the higher

circles of life, came to be generally appreciated; and the mind, which

is naturally responsive to matters of good taste, was willing to throw

aside the incubus of low stories, dependent for their interest upon

prurient situations, and to rise to the acceptance of literature whose

interest centred around persons and situations that made their appeal

by reason of worthiness or dignity. The patronage of letters by the

nobility led many, especially ecclesiastics, to develop their talents

in that direction. Wace, a canon of Bayeux and a prolific rhymester,

expressly states that his works were composed for the "rich gentry who

had rents and money." Even the stormy reign of Stephen seems to have

been no impediment to the cultivation of the literary taste which had

its beginning in the court of Henry I. and in the patronage of his

queens. The vernacular histories were either written or rendered into

the popular tongue, and in this way became the intellectual property

of the female world; they were not infrequently inspired by the wish

of some lady--a wish which became the law of the lay or clerical

writer.

The story of Eleanor of Aquitaine, the unhappy queen of Henry II.,

who in her later life frequently signed herself "queen by the wrath of

God," illustrates a phase of domestic infelicity which was not without

many parallels. It also serves to show that, with the perfervid

sentiment of chivalrous devotion to women, it was easy enough to

forget the higher demands of faithfulness in the real relations of

life. This queen herself was not blameless, and to an extent must

be regarded as suffering the penalties of her own indiscretions. The

story is almost too familiar to need reciting. She discovered that,

although ostensibly Henry's wife, the position was really filled by

one with whom the king had previously contracted marriage. The

family of Rosamond Clifford was as respectable as and scarcely less

illustrious than her own. During a sojourn at Woodstock, the jealous

eye of the queen had observed the king following a silk thread through

the labyrinth of trees, by which means she came to knew of her rival.

The meeting of the two women can better be imagined than described:

the queen poured out a torrent of reproaches and invectives, ending by

offering to Rosamond the cup of poison or a dagger, and did not leave

the place until the victim of her jealousy was no more.

But the tragic death of Rosamond did not serve to enlist for the queen

the affections of her consort, nor did it tend to promote her domestic

peace. Never was a family so torn by dissension and sin; her children

were arrayed against their father and one another, and all were

opposed to herself. Her husband added to her many troubles the further

shame of installing in her place the wife of his son. Seeking release

from a situation past all endurance, she eloped from a castle in

Aquitaine, intending to find an asylum in the dominions of King Louis

of France, her former husband. She was captured by Henry's myrmidons

and thrown into prison, there to remain sixteen years until liberated

by her renowned son, Richard Coeur de Lion. The sufferings of her life

tempered her spirit and brought her into reliance upon religion for

her comfort and strength.

Another example of the high courage and decision of purpose which the

life of Eleanor of Aquitaine furnished in its later history is found

at a subsequent period in another Eleanor, the daughter of Edward

II. This patient, suffering wife, roused to indignant resistance

of an unpardonable indignity, exhibited the spirit of an undaunted

character. She had been married, at the tender age of fifteen, to the

stern Reynald II., Earl of Gueldres and Zutphen. When the large dower

she brought her husband had been spent by him, he sought pretext for

a divorce from one with whom he could feel no sympathy; but for this

her blameless life furnished no excuse. Although the countess was

constantly surrounded by spies and her every act and word reported to

her lord, she moved with stately dignity in the atmosphere of intrigue

and deceit. In default of any other plea, her husband represented

to the pope that she was afflicted with leprosy. Arrayed solely in

a tunic, and enveloping herself in a capacious mantle, she made her

way with majestic mien into the council room of the palace, where the

perfidious lord was in consultation with his assembled nobles about

the details of the sinister purpose which he was seeking to effect.

With the words, "I am come, my beloved lord, to seek a diligent

examination respecting the corporeal taint imputed to me," she threw

aside the mantle, disclosing the healthy texture of her skin, while

a wave of emotion passed over her, and her eyes suffused with tears.

"These," she continued, "are my children and yours; do they too share

in the blemish of their mother? But it may come to pass that the

people of Gueldres may yet mourn our separation, when they behold

the failure of our line." Husband and nobles alike were profoundly

affected by so sublime an appeal, and the royal pair were reconciled;

but the male line of Reynald failed in his son, and the crown passed

to the female branch, as though the almost predictive words of the

noble English woman were destined to be fulfilled.

Yet another daughter of fair France became the queen of a Plantagenet.

Richard II., the last Plantagenet, from the date of his accession, was

involved in constant struggles, first with his Parliament, and then

with Henry of Lancaster. His first queen, Anne of Bohemia, died in

1394. Richard's thoughts were thereupon directed to the necessity of

choosing a second consort. He would consider only Isabelle of Valois,

daughter of Charles VI., who was less than nine years old. The

marriage was solemnized by proxy, and arrangements were made for the

king to repair to Calais and receive his child-bride at the hand of

Charles VI. The preliminaries having been completed, the ceremony is

thus recorded by Froissart:

"On the morrow, the King of England visited the King of France in his

tent, where the kings sat apart at one table. During the serving of

dinner, the Duke de Bourbon said many things to enliven the kings, and

addressed the King of England: 'Monseigneur, you ought to make good

cheer; you have all you desire and demand. You have, or will have,

your wife, she is about to be given to you.' The French king then

said: 'Bourbonnais, we could wish that our daughter were of the age of

our cousin of Saint-Pol, although it should have cost us dearly, for

our son of England would have taken her more willingly.'

"The King of England heard this and responded to the French king:

'Father-in-law, our wife's age pleases us well; we think less of that

than we do of the affection between us and our kingdoms, for with

mutual friendship and alliance, there is no king, Christian or other,

who could give umbrage to us.' The dinner was soon over, and then the

young Queen of England was brought into the king's tent, accompanied

by a great number of dames and demoiselles, and given to the King of

England, her hand being held by her father, the King of France."

This marriage brought nearly twenty years of peace between France

and England. The young queen was carefully nurtured and educated by

King Richard, whose attachment to her soon grew very deep. Turbulent

factions disturbed Richard's rule, and Isabelle had always before her

the menace of a prison rather than the prospect of a throne. Before

leaving to quell a rebellion in Ireland, Richard visited his "little

queen," for thus she was popularly styled, at Windsor Castle, to take

farewell. This interview, at which it is said the young queen first

realized how deeply she loved the king, was to be their last. Henry

of Lancaster, taking advantage of Richard's absence to gather a force

to wrest the sceptre from him, met Richard on his return, made him

captive, and finally secured his resignation of the crown in 1399.

Simultaneously, the young queen fell into Henry's power, and was moved

from castle to castle at the will of Henry. All this time she was kept

in ignorance of the fate of her husband, and tortured by suspense and

anxiety. Richard alive was too serious a danger to Henry's supremacy,

and, a plot to restore him to his throne having failed, he was killed

at Pontefract Castle soon after, in a heroic struggle against the

myrmidons of Henry.

Meantime, the "little queen" had joined in the movement against Henry,

in the hope that her husband would recover his crown and be restored

to her, but she was soon again a captive at Havering Bower. For some

time the child-widow--she was not yet thirteen--was kept in ignorance

of the death of Richard. Soon, however, she was importuned by Henry

IV. on behalf of Monmouth, his son, but, faithful to the memory of

Richard, she rejected with horror the proposed union. Finally, all

hope of the alliance being destroyed, Henry consented to Isabella's

return to her parents. She had endeared herself to the hearts of the

English by her graces, and especially by her steadfast devotion to

Richard.

After Isabelle's return to France, Henry still persisted in suing for

her hand, but it was impossible to move her determination. In 1406,

it seemed that joy might yet brighten the life of this unfortunate

princess, for in that year she was betrothed to her cousin, the young

Charles of Orleans, whom she married in 1409. The affection of husband

and wife appeared to offer every prospect of happiness, but she was

permitted to enjoy her newly found state for only a brief period, as

she died during the following year, a few hours after the birth of an

infant daughter. The memory of this sweet but unfortunate princess is

enshrined in the poetic tributes of the Duke of Orleans, nor did the

English fail to sing in ballads her praise.

The origin of the Order of the Garter is traceable to the spirit of

chivalry; it was instituted by Coeur de Lion, and in 1344 was revived

by Edward III. Froissart appears to credit the story which connects

the revival of the order to Edward's passion for the Countess of

Salisbury, whose garter he is said to have picked up and presented to

her in the presence of the court, with this exclamation: _Honi soit

qui mal y pense!_ The chronicler gives us a full account of the

attachment of Edward for the countess, and places in excellent light

the integrity of her character. When she was besieged in her husband's

castle at Wark, Edward advanced to her relief, compelling the Scots

to retreat. At the interview which followed, the king looked upon

her with such an air of profound thoughtfulness that she was led to

inquire: "Dear sire, what are you musing on? Such meditation is not

proper for you, saving your grace." "Oh, dear lady!" replied the

monarch; "you must know that since I have been in this castle, some

thoughts have oppressed my mind that I was not before aware of." "Dear

sire, you ought to be of good cheer, and leave off such pondering; for

God has been very bountiful to you in your undertakings." Whereupon

the king replied with more directness: "There be other things, O sweet

lady, which touch my heart, and lie heavy there, beside what you talk

of. In good truth, your beauteous mien and the perfection of your face

and behavior have wholly overcome me; and my peace depends on your

accepting my love, which your refusal cannot abate." "My gracious

liege," the countess exclaimed, "God of his infinite goodness preserve

you, and drive from your noble heart all evil thoughts; for I am, and

ever shall be, ready to serve you; but only in what is consistent with

my honor and your own."

The first chapter of the Garter was graced by another queen who

adorns the history of England's women of rank--Queen Philippa. She was

attended by the principal ladies of the court, who, with herself, were

admitted dame-companions of the order, and the wives of the knights

continued to enjoy this dignity during several succeeding reigns.

In even the best homes of the Middle Ages we must not expect to find

the refinements which are regarded as the commonplaces of modern

life. The essence of refinement is the same in all ages, and, while it

involves manners, these change with the standards and conventions of

different times. Much that is amusing, absurd, or even disgusting, as

we regard manners to-day, was entirely in good form during the Middle

Ages. It will be of interest to notice some of the things which were

regarded as commendable in the deportment of the young ladies of the

aristocratic class of mediaeval society, and what they were cautioned

to avoid. A _trouvere_ of the thirteenth century, named Robert de

Blois, compiled a code of etiquette which he put in French verse under

the title, _Chastisement des Dames_. The young ladies who would deport

themselves in an irreproachable manner must avoid talking too much,

and especially refrain from boasting of the attentions paid to them

by the other sex. They were recommended to be discreet, and, in

the freedom of games and amusements, to leave no room for adverse

criticism of their actions. In going to church, they were not to trot

or run, but to walk with due seriousness, with eyes straight before

them, and to salute _debonairely_ all persons they met. They were

enjoined not to let men kiss them on the mouth, as it might lead to

too great familiarity; they were not to look at a man too much unless

he were an acknowledged lover; and when a young woman had a lover,

she was not to talk too much of him. They were not to manifest too

much vanity in dress, and to be entirely delicate in the matter of

costume; nor were they to be too ready in accepting presents from the

other sex. The ladies are particularly warned against scolding and

disputing, against swearing, against eating and drinking too freely at

the table. They were exhorted not to get drunk, a practice from which,

they were advised, much mischief might arise. That the restrictions

were, on the whole, sensible is apparent from our statement of them,

and the good sense of the times receives special point from the rule

of society which recommended the ladies not to cover their faces when

in public, as a handsome face was made to be seen. An exception is

made in the case of ugly or deformed features, which might be covered.

Another rule was as follows: "A lady who is pale-faced or who has not

a good smell ought to breakfast early in the morning, for good wine

gives them a very good color; and she who eats and drinks well must

heighten her color." Anise seed, fennel, and cumin were recommended

to be taken at breakfast to correct an unsavory breath, and persons so

affected were told not to breathe in other persons' faces.

A special set of rules was given for the lady's behavior while in

church, and if she could sing she was to do so when asked and not

require too much pressing. Ladies were further recommended to keep

their hands clean, to cut their nails often, and not to suffer them to

grow beyond the finger or to harbor dirt. When passing the houses of

other people, ladies were not to look into them: "for a person often

does things privately in his house, which he would not wish to be

seen, if anyone should come before his door." For the same reason

a lady was not to go into another person's house, or into another's

room, without coughing or speaking to give notice to the inmates. The

directions for a lady's behavior at the table were also very precise.

"In eating, you must avoid much laughing or talking. If you eat with

another (i.e., in the same plate, or of the same mess), turn the

nicest bits to him and do not go picking out the finest and largest

for yourself, which is not courteous. Moreover, no one should eat

greedily a choice bit which is too large or too hot, for fear of

choking or burning herself.... Each time you drink, wipe your mouth

well, that no grease go into the wine, which is very unpleasant for

the person who drinks after you. But when you wipe your mouth for

drinking, do not wipe your eyes or nose with the tablecloth, and avoid

spilling from your mouth or greasing your hands too much." Added to

these directions for deportment, particular emphasis was laid on the

avoidance of falsehoods, which suggests the prevalence of the vice.

The modern "servant question" was not without its counterpart in the

Middle Ages. We find instances of advice tendered upon the subject to

the ladies of those times. An early writer on domestic economy divided

the servants who might be found in a manorial establishment into three

classes: those who were employed on a sudden and only for a certain

work, and for these a previous bargain should be made regarding their

payment; those who were employed for a certain time in a particular

description of work, as tailors, shoemakers, butchers, and others, who

always came to work in the house upon materials provided there, or the

harvest men for the gathering of the crops; and domestic servants who

were hired by the year, these latter being expected to pay an absolute

and passive obedience to the lord and lady of the household and any

others who were set in authority over them.

Naturally, it was the female servants who came under the supervision

of the lady of the house, and minute directions are given for their

ordering. She was to require her maids to repair early in the morning

to their work; the entrance to the hall and all other places by which

people enter, or places in the hall where they tarry to converse, were

to be swept and made clean, "and that the footstools and covers of the

benches and forms be dusted and shaken, and after this that the other

chambers be in like manner cleaned and arranged for the day." After

this, the pet animals were to be attended to and fed. At midday the

servants were to have their first meal, which was to be bountiful, but

"only of one meat and not of several, or of any delicacies; and give

them only one kind of drink, nourishing but not heady, whether wine

or other; and admonish them to eat heartily, and to drink well and

plentifully, for it is right that they should eat all at once, without

sitting too long, and at one breath, without reposing on their meal

or halting, or leaning with their elbows on the table; and as soon

as they begin to talk or to rest on their elbows, make them rise

and remove the table." After their "second labor" and on feast days

also--when seemingly the workday was not so long as usual--they were

to have another lighter repast, and in the late evening, after all

their duties were performed, another abundant meal was served. It

then devolved upon the lady of the house or her deputy to see that the

manor was closed, and to take charge of the keys, preventing anyone

from going in or out; and then, having had all the fires carefully

"covered," she sent the servants to bed and saw that their candles

were extinguished to prevent the risk of fire. The lady was always

careful as to whom she received into her house as servitors; female

servants who came to her as strangers were not well regarded, and were

not given trusts of importance, and their characters, so far as was

possible, were looked into, as well as the circumstances of their

leaving their former place of employment.

The term "spinster," which is now confined to unmarried women, was a

term of consideration applied to all women of the better class during

the Middle Ages. It was indicative of her superior rank, and was

especially adhered to by gentlewomen who married out of their station,

as a sign of their good birth and gentle breeding.

The term "gentle blood," as now understood, means only that some

persons have the fortunate circumstance of refined parentage or

ancestry; but in the Middle Ages, when the pride of gentle blood

was one of the most distinguishing characteristics of the prevailing

feudal society, it was seriously believed that through the

whole extent of the aristocratic classes there ran one blood,

distinguishable from the blood of all other persons. So strongly was

this view entertained, that it was commonly thought that if a child of

gentle blood should be stolen or abandoned in infancy, and then bred

up as a peasant or a burgher, without knowledge of its origin, it

would display, as it grew toward manhood, unmistakable proofs of its

gentle origin, in spite of education and example. Whatever the fallacy

of this belief, its effect upon the ladies of superior birth was to

make them prize their station highly; but it also created a spirit of

haughtiness toward those who were below their station, and a harshness

in their relation to their domestics which was not always conformable

to the graciousness and consideration which these very ladies often

displayed where there was no question involving their caste.

In considering the dress of the women of the Middle Ages, we remarked

upon the censure and sarcasm which were passed upon the vanities into

which women were led by their devotion to the changing fashions of

the day. Every class of society was pervaded by a love of dress, which

expressed itself in the greatest extravagances and absurdities. A

knight of the fourteenth century compiled for three young ladies, the

daughters of a knight of Normandy, a manuscript which contains advice

and directions for the regulation of their conduct through life.

It contains several very curious passages relative to dress: "Fair

daughters," says their mentor, "I pray you that ye be not the first to

take new shapes and guises of array of women of strange countries." He

then inveighs against the wearing of superfluous quantities of furs

as edging for their gowns, their hoods, and their sleeves. After

commenting upon the sinfulness of useless fashions and their effect

upon the lower classes, he proceeds to portray the absurdities into

which the latter were led by aping their betters, and suggests that

the furs which they wore in profusion had better at least be dispensed

with in summer, as they served only "for a hiding place for the

fleas." The knight whose daughters are thus counselled is unable

to deter them from falling into extravagances of attire, and has

recourse to the legend of a chevalier whose wife was dead and who made

application to a hermit to know if her soul had gone to Paradise or

to punishment. The holy man, after long praying, fell asleep, and saw

the soul of the fair lady weighed in the balance; with Saint Michael

standing on one side and the Devil on the other. The latter addressed

Saint Michael and claimed the woman as his own on the score that she

had ten diverse gowns, and a less number than that would have sufficed

to lose her soul; besides which, with what she had wasted she might

have clothed two or three persons who for the lack of her charity

died of want. So saying, the fiend gathered up all her gay attire,

ornaments, and jewels, and cast them in the balance with her evil

deeds, which determined the balance against her, and he bore her away

to the lake of fire. The same night, in order to deter his daughters

from painting their faces, the knight recounts a horrible legend of a

fine lady who was punished in hell because she had "popped and painted

her visage to please the sight of the world."

It is not by such incidentals as dress, but by the enduring qualities

of character, that the women of the higher circles of the English

Middle Ages were able to make an indelible impress upon the life and

character of the nation. And more especially may this be said of the

women whose lives were largely spent in the sheltered circle of a pure

domesticity,--the women of the manors.

Women of England · 第 6 / 15 章