CHAPTER X

THE WOMEN OF THE TUDOR PERIOD

As the year has its seasons, marked by alternations of active growth

and recuperation for new development, so likewise has history. If the

Middle Ages were a time of comparative dearth as viewed in the light

of the modern era, certainly there was ample vitality hidden in the

quiet forms and the mechanical fixity of the period. The season of

vernal glory for England, which opened with the reign of Henry VIII.

and found its climax in that of Elizabeth, was glorious because the

beauty and brilliancy which characterized it were due to the splendid

utilities which were passed on to it from the Middle Ages. Art,

literature, and the pleasant pastimes of leisure--the affluence of

prosperity--are the efflorescence of a people's history, though the

absence of these graces and privileges of life may not mean a dearth

in any profound sense, for it may be that their absence but indicates

a lack of favoring conditions for the root stock to put forth foliage

and flower. The simple form of social life which obtained during the

Middle Ages, as contrasted with the brilliancy of intellect and the

breadth of view of the modern era, does not denote any important

difference in the character of the great mass of the English people,

any more than it can be said of the fallow land not under cultivation

that it has less productivity than the fields which by the waving

grain give evidence of their fertile worth.

The easy acceptance in modern times of the benefits of inventions

which greatly broaden the scope of living and add immeasurably to its

comfort shows how readily people adjust themselves to advances in the

conditions of life. So that which we look upon as an era was not so

considered by the people who witnessed the stimulus which we regard

as the beginning of all modern intellectual and social life. For

this reason, we need not expect to discover in the women of the early

modern period any radical difference from their sisters of preceding

generations; but we shall find that, with the change of environment

and the coming of a better state of life in general, womankind was

gradually and insensibly affected in ways of permanent improvement.

The opening up of new avenues of human interest and the enlargement of

old ones increased the sphere of woman's life and influence; yet had

it not been for the status she had achieved already, she would no more

have entered prominently into the blessings and privileges of the new

era than did the women of Greece generally benefit by the Golden Age

of Pericles.

It is interesting to note that at the beginning of the modern era

population was increasing so slowly as to be practically stationary,

and, indeed, for generations past there had been no appreciable

increase. Even after the favorable conditions of the reign of Henry

VIII. became general, population made comparatively slow progress.

Families were not so numerous, or the number of their members so

great, as compared with to-day. It was an exception for a laborer to

maintain his family in a cottage to themselves. Farm work was commonly

done under the superintendence of country esquires, and the laborers

lived in the paternal cottage and remained single, marrying only when

by their providence they had managed to save enough to enable them

to enter upon some other career. The competition of other countries,

notably France, with the industries of England proved disastrous to

many forms of England's industrial activities; and to the introduction

into the kingdom of a number of wares and merchandise of foreign

make was attributed the great number of idle people throughout the

realm. To counteract this condition, Henry issued statutes for the

encouragement of manufacturing. One of these aimed to stimulate the

linen industry. In order that the men and women living in idleness,

which was styled "that most abominable sin," might have profitable

employment, it was ordained and enacted that every person should sow

one-quarter of an acre in flax or hemp for every sixty acres he might

have under cultivation. The immediate purpose of the act was to keep

the wives and children of the poor at work in their own houses, but it

also indicated that the condition of manufactures in England was not

such as to encourage an enlarging population.

The condition of the laboring classes during the reign of Henry VIII.

was not such as to excite general dissatisfaction; indeed, there are

evidences of a general state of contentment among the people. The laws

for the encouragement of trade and the sumptuary legislation for the

regulation of wages and prices were economic measures which may not

stand the test of examination according to modern ideas, but which

nevertheless tended, on the whole, to benefit those in whose behalf

they were made. Industry was the spirit of the times, and idleness was

the most abhorrent of vices. Men, women, and children, alike, were to

be trained in some craft or other, to prevent their becoming public

charges. The children of parents who could afford the fees which were

exacted for apprenticeship were set to learn trades, and the rest were

bound out to agriculture; and if the parents failed to see to it that

their children were started out in a career of labor, the mayors or

magistrates had authority to apprentice such children, so that when

they grew up they might not be driven to dishonest courses by want or

incapacity.

Throughout the sixteenth century, all classes of society appear to

have had a reasonable degree of prosperity, according to their several

needs and stations. The country gentlemen lived upon their landed

estates, surrounded by those evidences of solid comfort which give

attractiveness to such life. The income of the squire was sufficient

to afford a moderate abundance for himself and his family, and between

him and the commons there was not a wide difference in this respect.

Among all classes of the people there was a spirit of liberality,

open and free; the practicality of the age was not inaccordant with

generous hospitality. To every man who asked it, there were free

fare and free lodging, and he might be sure of a bountiful board of

wholesome food. Bread, beef, and beer for dinner, and a mat of rushes

in an unoccupied corner of the hall, with a billet of wood for

a headrest, did not constitute luxurious entertainment, but were

regarded as elements of real comfort. Nor was the generous hospitality

proffered to strangers often abused; the statutes of the times kept

suspicious characters under such close notice, and were so repressive

of predatory and vicious instincts, that there was little occasion

for alarm such as is felt by the modern housewife in country districts

along much-travelled roads. The hour of rising, both summer and

winter, was four o'clock; breakfast was served at five, after which

the laborers went to their work and the gentlemen to their business.

Life lacked much of modern refinement, although it made up for this

lack in wholesomeness and heartiness. The large number of beggars in

the reign of Henry VIII. was due in part to the suppression of the

monasteries and the drying up of those springs of charity, and the

open-handed hospitality which had encouraged begging while relieving

distress. Upon the assumption that there was no excuse for an

able-bodied vagrant, the penalties imposed upon "sturdy beggars"

were severe. Such, in brief, was the state of English society at the

beginning of the modern era.

The influence of the Church was on the wane before the rupture with

the papacy was brought about by Henry VIII., and the laity were

beginning to assume the positions, liberties, and privileges which had

appertained to the clergy as the one scholarly and dominant class

of the kingdom. Under the new conditions of liberty in which we find

woman, there was no room for the continuance of even the forms of

chivalry. Idealized woman no longer existed; she had become practical.

Having sought a position of public activity, she had been recognized

as possessing the private rights of an individual of the same nature

and of similar status as man. It was no longer needful to go to the

convent to find the religious or intellectual types of womankind, for

religion, benevolence, and literature were no longer identified only

with the cloister. However disastrous was the suppression of the

monasteries to the little bands of women who wore the habit of the

_religieuse_, women in general did not feel the upheaval nearly so

much as they did the other social changes, which were not so radical,

but were very much more influential in their relation to the destiny

of the sex as a whole.

Although manners were very free, and nowhere more so than among

persons of the higher orders of society, such coarseness is not the

true criterion by which to gauge the women of the day. Even if they

did not hesitate to use profanity, were adepts at coquetry of an

undisguised type, and were guilty of conduct which merited more

than the term "indiscreet," it must be borne in mind that they were

creatures of their times. While English society was noted for its

rudeness and coarseness, it was saved from much of the effeminacy

which poisoned the life of its neighbors on the continent. The

sixteenth century took a more generous, complimentary, and true view

of womankind. In the Middle Ages, she suffered from the exaggerated

praise of the knight and the troubadour on the one hand, and on the

other from the contempt and contumely of the ecclesiastic. From this

equivocal position of being at the same time an angel and a devil she

was rescued by the sanity and sincerity of the sixteenth century, and

was placed in her true position as a woman, possessed of essentially

the same characteristics as men, worthy of like honor, and making

appeal for no special consideration excepting that which her sex

evoked instinctively from men. The modern idea had begun to prevail,

and woman was no longer either worshipped or shunned, but was welcomed

as a sharer of the common burdens and joys of life. To continental

observers it was marvellous that the English woman should have

the large amount of liberty that she enjoyed; and Europeans not

understanding the English point of view were apt to construe such

liberty as boldness. Thus, one writer from abroad is found commenting

upon the sixteenth-century English woman as follows: "The women have

much more liberty than perhaps in any other place; they also know well

how to make use of it; for they go dressed out in exceedingly fine

clothes, and give all their attention to their ruffs and stuffs to

such a degree indeed that, as I am informed, many a one does not

hesitate to wear velvet in the streets, which is common with them,

whilst at home perhaps they have not a piece of dry bread."

Elizabeth Lamond's _Discourse of the Commonweal_ recites that there

was more employment for the men and women of the towns and cities

when the wants of people were more modest. The population of London,

despite the attempts made by Queen Elizabeth to prevent the influx

of foreigners and persons from the rural districts, increased rapidly

during her reign. On coming into the city, the rustics soon wasted

their small savings in the rioting and revels which characterized the

rough life of the metropolis. Drinking, gambling, and all forms of

license enticed the husband from his home and destroyed the domestic

felicity which had been the characteristic of country living. Country

and town life were still widely separated by bad roads and poor means

of conveyance. The wives even of the gentry knew, as a rule, nothing

of city life, excepting from the accounts which their husbands might

bring back to them from occasional jaunts to the metropolis; to all

such accounts they listened with wide-eyed wonder.

The amusements of the women of the better sort, who did not find

their entertainment in the vices of the times, took chiefly the form

of spectacles, to which they readily flocked. It mattered little

whether it was a mask, a miracle play, a church procession or a

royal progress, a cock fight or a bear baiting. The brutality of

their sports no more affected their feelings than do the revolting

circumstances of a bull fight shock the sensibilities of the women of

Spain's cultured circles. When any morning they might see the heads

of some unfortunates stuck on pikes and gracing with their gruesome

presence the city gate, it is not surprising that the people were not

repelled by brutal exhibitions of a lesser sort. Nor did the forms

of punishment in use for malefactors of one kind or another tend to

soften the feelings of the women of the time. It was no unusual thing

for a woman convicted of being a common scold to be seen going about

the streets with her face behind an iron muzzle clamped over her

mouth, a subject for the jeers and ribald mirth of coarse-minded women

no better than herself. Such characters were also taken to the ducking

stool and thoroughly doused in the water. The punishment of thieves

by branding and by mutilation, and the punishment meted out to women

whose characters, even in that gross age, affronted public morals,

were of a public nature and matters of daily observation. Nor was any

woman quite sure that the gibbet, from which she could at almost any

time see the swaying form of some unfortunate, might not next serve

for the execution of her own husband; for the number of capital

offences was large, and the inquiries of justice by no means lenient

on the side of the accused.

The destruction of the monasteries brought about, in a large measure,

the dissolution of the educational system of the realm. The sons of

the poor husbandman, who had been taught at the convent schools, and

then passed on through the universities, and thence had gradually

worked their way into the professions of religion or the law, had

the door of opportunity to a higher station closed to them. The

deprivation was more severe in the case of girls, although it did not

signify so much for them in relation to their future--unless, indeed,

it did so by debarring from the profession of religion some who might

have entered it. The clergy tried to meet the educational demands

which were so suddenly thrown upon them, but it was impossible for

them to afford educational facilities for the youth of either sex at

schools without endowment or adequate support. Elizabeth, with the

wide view and the sagacity which she showed with regard to all aspects

of her kingdom, evinced her recognition of the importance of education

by establishing one hundred free grammar schools, whose number rapidly

increased during her reign. In the course of time, these schools fell

under the control of the middle class and afforded education for their

sons and daughters. But in England there were certainly very few, if

any, women of the middle class who entered largely into the benefits

of the new learning which came in with the Renaissance. The study

of Latin and Greek and the discussion of philosophy and science were

confined to the women of the leisure classes. The English universities

in the sixteenth century were closed to women; but such lack was

made up by private tutors, women of rank and position thus having the

benefit of the brightest minds of the age.

The great awakening of intellectual life in England, in common

with the continental countries, showed itself in activity in all

departments of thought: poetry flourished, theology caught the

infection of the new spirit of liberty, and the classics were studied

with avidity as the springs of the world's literature and learning.

The invention of the printing press let loose the floods of knowledge,

and the women of the higher classes were caught in the flow of

books and pamphlets, and their intellects were quickened and their

characters formed by these new sources of inspiration and wisdom.

Woman was no longer designated as the daughter of the Church, which

was formerly the highest encomium that the condescension of the Church

could afford her. She now stood on her own independence of character,

possessed of an intellect and accorded the freedom of its use.

The example of the Virgin Queen was held up to the youth of England

for their imitation. Elizabeth's education had been most zealously

cared for. To her remarkable aptitude for learning she added a

studious disposition. At an early age she was an accomplished

linguist; the sciences were familiar to her, she "understood

the principles of geography, architecture, the mathematics, and

astronomy." Her studies, save one, however, she regarded rather in the

light of pastime; to the exception--history--she "devoted three hours

a day, and read works in all languages that afforded information on

the subject." Thus was her mind stored with the philosophy of history;

men and events in their ever changing relations were an open book to

her. Hence, when the responsibilities of sovereignty devolved upon

her she was resourceful and prompt. Whether dealing with her ambitious

subjects, or receiving the wily ambassador of a foreign power, her

poise could not be disturbed.

With the example and influence of the Tudor princesses before them,

the women least needed the exhortation to intellectual attainments.

It was said by a foreign scholar who visited England in the middle of

the sixteenth century that "the rich cause their sons and daughters

to learn Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, for, since this storm of heresy

has invaded the land, they hold it useful to read the Scriptures in

the original tongue." With all the profession of knowledge which

was assumed by the people of this age, there went a great deal of

pedantry. It became very tiresome to listen to the conversations of

select bodies of the devotees of the new wisdom, who had touched

but the skirts of the garments of the Muses. The great number of

literary coxcombs and dilettanti who were scribbling Latin verse and

propounding philosophical theses, or pronouncing upon new theological

views, serves to impress one with the superficiality of the learning

of the day, so far as is concerned the great body of its professed

disciples, while in contrast to these we are led to respect more

profoundly the genuine attainments of the brilliant group of men and

women who made the reign of Elizabeth illustrious for its varied and

almost matchless learning. In spite of all the pretence to learning on

the part of the great mass of women who had neither the taste nor the

capacity to drink deep at the Pyrenean spring, it must be said that

in no other period of English history has there been shown such marked

and general eagerness for knowledge as in the sixteenth century, nor

has any other period exhibited such a galaxy of great women. The

wide diffusion of a love of literature is in striking contrast to the

literary dearth of the preceding centuries.

It was not, however, a period of brilliant authorship among women.

The new learning had first to be imbibed and become a part of the

national thought before it could express itself in literary products.

Translations of the classics and the works of the Church Fathers, with

literary correspondence and discussions in choice Latin prose, as well

as the composition of distiches in the same tongue, with occasional

instances of adventure into Greek and Hebrew composition, summed up

the literary labors of the women of the times. As such matters possess

little interest to posterity, not many of these literary essays and

letters have been preserved; but such as have come down to us mirror

the intellect of the women of the age so creditably as to invite

comparison with the results of modern education for the sex.

Lady Jane Grey may be cited as one of the women of the day who became

notable for learning and scholarship. Of her, Fox writes: "If her

fortune had been as good as her bringing up, joined with fineness

of wit, undoubtedly she might have seemed comparable not only to the

house of the Vespasians, Sempronians, and the mother of the Gracchi,

yea, to any other women besides that deserve of high praise for their

singular learning, but also to the University men, who have taken

many degrees of the Schools." The facility of this noble lady in Greek

composition was strongly commended by Roger Ascham. Her remarkable

knowledge of the cognate tongues of the East and of modern languages

made her almost deserving of the encomium which was passed upon Anna

Maria van Schurman, a Dutch contemporary, of whom it was said: "If all

the languages of the earth should cease to exist, she herself would

give them birth anew." The conversance of the literary ladies of the

sixteenth century with the languages of the East, as well as with

philosophy and theology, and the really marvellous attainments of some

of them in these subjects, indicate a sound education, even though an

unserviceable one.

Erasmus warmly commended the Princess Mary for her proficiency in

Latin, and in later years she translated Erasmus's _Paraphrase of the

Gospel of Saint John_. Udall, Master of Eton, who wrote the preface to

this work, complimented her for her "over-painful study and labour of

writing," by which she had "cast her weak body in a grievous and long

sickness." The literary attainments and linguistic versatility of

Elizabeth herself, which made her a criterion for her times, are well

enough known to need no especial notice here. She had the benefit of

instruction from Roger Ascham, with whom she read the classics, and

from Grindal, under whom she studied theology, which was a favorite

subject with her. In Italian, Castiglione was her master, and Lady

Champernon was her first tutor in modern languages. She became

familiar with the works of the Greek and Latin authors by hearing them

read to her by Sir Henry Savil and Sir John Fortescue. In this way she

became intimately acquainted with Plato, Aristotle, and Xenophon,

and herself translated one of the dialogues of the latter, besides

rendering two orations of Isocrates from Greek into Latin.

Among other studious and accomplished women of the times, Sir Thomas

More's daughters held a high place. All of them were clever and

applied themselves to abstruse subjects; but Margaret, wife of William

Roper, the daughter who clung passionately to her father's neck when

he was being led off to execution, was the most brilliant of this

family of accomplished women. Sir Anthony Coke, whose scholarship gave

him the position of preceptor to Edward VI., had the gratification of

seeing his daughters attract the attention of the most celebrated men

of the nation. One of them married Lord Burleigh, the treasurer of

the realm; another wedded Sir Nicholas Bacon, lord keeper of the Great

Seal, becoming in time the mother of the famous Francis Bacon, the

celebrated philosopher; and as her second husband, the third had Lord

Russell.

Nothing delighted the brilliant women of the Elizabethan era so much

as to have themselves surrounded by great writers, statesmen, and

other celebrities. Stately magnificence was maintained at many of the

great houses, and the presence of noted artists and celebrated authors

gave to such homes an intellectual atmosphere. One of the centres of

intellectual thought and literary life of her time was the home of

Mary Sidney, after she had become the wife of Henry, Earl of Pembroke,

and mistress of his establishment at Wilton. Around her hospitable

board gathered poets, statesmen, and artists, drawn there not by the

rank of the hostess or to satisfy her pride by their presence and

fame, but because her cultivated intellect made her a fit companion

for the greatest intellectual personages of the day. To have had the

honor of entertaining, as guests, Shakespeare and Ben Jonson, besides

the lesser poets of the time, and to have been recognized by such

literati as worthy of their serious consideration because of her

undoubted gifts, not only reflected high compliment upon the lady,

but lasting credit upon her sex, and was one of the many significant

things of the Elizabethan era which indicated how wide open stood

the door of intellectual progress and equality of opportunity for the

women of modern times. Spenser celebrated the Countess of Pembroke as:

"The gentlest shepherdess that liv'd that day,

And most resembling in shape and spirit

Her brother dear."

Udall, the Master of Eton, speaks enthusiastically of the great number

of women in the noble ranks of society, "not only given to the study

of human sciences and strange tongues, but also so thoroughly expert

in the Holy Scriptures that they were able to compare with the

best writers as well in enditeing and penning of Godly and fruitful

treatises to the instruction and edifying of realmes in the knowledge

of God, as also in translating good books out of Latin or Greek into

English for the use and commodity of such as are rude and ignorant of

the said tongues. It was now no news in England to see young damsels

in noble houses and in the courts of princes, instead of cards and

other instruments of idle trifling, to have continually in their hands

either Psalms, homilies, and other devout meditations, or else Paul's

Epistles, or some book of Holy Scripture matters, and as familiarly

both to read and reason thereof in Greek, Latin, French, or Italian as

in English. It was now a common thing to see young virgins so trained

in the study of good letters that they willingly set all other vain

pastimes at nought for learning's sake. It was now no news at all

to see Queens and ladies of most high estate and progeny, instead

of courtly dalliance, to embrace virtuous exercises of reading and

writing, and with most earnest study both early and late to apply

themselves to the acquiring of knowledge, as well in all other liberal

artes and disciplines, as also most especially of God and His holy

word."

The doubts as to the utility of higher education for women in general

which trouble some minds at the present day were not altogether

unknown in the age of Elizabeth. Ecclesiastics especially, even

the more liberal, were most prone to entertain doubts as to the

advisability of permitting women to have a free range through the

avenues of knowledge. It is probable that the middle classes, to whom

the opportunities of education were not so general, felt the value of

schools too highly to speculate upon the utility of that which was not

readily within their grasp. Richard Mulcaster, who was the master of

a school founded by the Merchant Taylors Company in the parish of St.

Lawrence, Pultney, says: "We see young maidens be taught to read and

write, and can do both with praise; we have them sing and playe: and

both passing well, we know that they learne the best and finest of our

learned languages, to the admiration of all men. For the daiely spoken

tongues and of best reputation in our time who so shall deny that they

may not compare even with our kinde even in the best degree ... Nay,

do we not see in our country some of that sex so excellently well

trained and so rarely qualified either for the tongues themselves

or for the matter in the tongues: as they may be opposed by way of

comparison, if not preferred as beyond comparison, even to the best

Romaine or Greekish paragones, be they never so much praised to the

Germaine or French gentle-wymen by late writers so well liked: to

the Italian ladies who dare write themselves and deserve fame for

so doing?... I dare be bould, therefore, to admit young maidens to

learne, seeing my countrie gives me leave and her costume standes for

me.... Some Rimon will say, what should wymend with learning? Such a

churlish carper will never picke out the best, but be alway ready to

blame the worst. If all men used all pointes of learning well, we had

some reason to alledge against wymend, but seeing misuse is commonly

both the kinds, why blame we their infirmitie whence we free not

ourselves." He then contends that a young gentlewoman who can write

well and swiftly, sing clearly and sweetly, play well and finely, and

employ readily the learned languages with some "logicall helpe to chop

and some rhetoricke to brave," is well furnished, and that such a one

is not likely to bring up her children a whit the worse, even if she

becomes a Loelia, a Hortensia, or a Cornelia. In discussing whether or

not girls should be taught by their own sex, he inclines to the belief

that this practice were advisable, but that discreet men might teach

girls to advantage. To use his own words: "In teachers, their owne

sex were fittest in some respects, but ours frame them best, and,

with good regard to some circumstances, will bring them up excellently

well." In the higher circles, where cynicism frequently assumes the

forms of wisdom, it was not universally agreed that women should

have the widest opportunities of education. In one of his discourses,

Erasmus, possibly the most accomplished of the schoolmen of the time,

opens to our view the opinion of the Church as to female scholarship

when he represents an abbot as contending that if women were learned

they could not be kept under subjection, "therefore it is a wicked,

mischievous thing to revive the ancient custom of educating them." A

remark in one of Erasmus's letters lays him open to the suspicion of

sharing somewhat in this view, for, in his description of Sir Thomas

More, he speaks of him as wise with the wise, and jesting with

fools--"with women especially, and his own wife among them."

Besides the graver matters of study which claimed their attention, the

women of England were devoted to music, needlework, and dancing, which

were the favorite fashionable pastimes. Erasmus speaks of them as

the most accomplished in musical skill of any people. Early as the

reign of Henry VIII., to read music at sight was not an uncommon

accomplishment, while those who aspired to the technique of the

subject were students of counterpoint. Musical literature was scanty;

the principal instruments were the lute, the mandolin, the clavichord,

and the virginals.

Notwithstanding its literary flavor and its identity with the great

themes of modern knowledge, the age of Elizabeth can hardly be called

a serious one from the point of view of the spirit and manners of the

people. Amusement was sought for its own sake, without regard to

its character or quality. The spirit of enjoyment was hearty and

unrestrained, and lacked discrimination and refinement. The society

of the age, like its culture, was a reflex of the personality of the

powerful queen, who stamped her character and her tastes upon her

people. The queen, as well as her courtiers, could restrain herself

upon occasion; but neither she nor her subjects felt that there was

any moral or conventional need to place a check upon the expression

of their emotions, and in consequence their manners were often

unbecoming. It did not offend the sense of personal dignity of

Elizabeth to spit at a courtier, the cut or color of whose coat

displeased her, just as she might box his ears or rap out at him

a flood of profanity. When Leicester was kneeling to receive his

earldom, the dignity of the occasion was entirely destroyed by the

volatile queen bending over to tickle his neck. As it was a case of

like queen, like people, a man who could not or who would not swear

was accounted "a peasant, a clown, a patch, an effeminate person."

The _sine qua non_ for obtaining the queen's favor was to be amusing.

It mattered nothing at all at whose expense, or how personal

the witticism, or how sensitive the one who was made the butt of

amusement; if the queen enjoyed it, and the boisterous laughter of the

court sycophants was evoked, the sufferer had to appear gratified at

the honor of his selection for his sovereign's entertainment. Coarse

manners were but the expression of coarser morals; even men of the

cleanest characters and highest intelligence did not shrink from any

allusion, however gross, and felt no impulse to check their words

either in speech or in writing. Nor were women a whit more regardful

of the proprieties of expression. Ascham blamed the degradation of

English morals in part on the custom of sending abroad young men to

Italy to finish their education, and alleged that the corruption which

they underwent at the "court of Circe" was responsible for the spread

of vicious manners in English society. He writes: "I know divers that

went out of England, men of innocent life, men of excellent learning,

who returned out of Italy, not only with worse manners, but also with

less learning." He complains of the introduction of Italian books

translated into English, which were sold in every shop of London, by

which the morals of the youth were corrupted, and whose venom was

the more insidious because they appeared under honest titles and were

dedicated to virtuous and honorable personages. As there was no public

opinion to censure the reading of the women, or standards to control

their conversation, they did not feel the impropriety of acquainting

themselves with such works and of openly discussing them. Indeed, the

women of the nobility felt themselves freed from all the restraints

which the modest of the sex normally cherish for their protection.

An illustration of the freedom of the manners of the women is found

in the correspondence of Erasmus, who, on coming to England as a young

man, was impressed by the prevalence of the custom of kissing. In a

letter to a friend in Holland, he says, in effect, that the women kiss

you on meeting you, kiss you on taking their leave; when you enter

their homes, you are greeted with kisses, and are sped on your way by

the same osculatory exercises; and he adds, after you have once tasted

the freshness of the lips of the rosy English maidens, you will not

want to leave this delightful country. A further illustration of the

same thing is found in a manual of so-called English conversation,

published in 1589: a traveller on arriving at an inn is instructed

to discourse as follows with the chambermaid, and her conventional

replies are given: "My shee frinde, is my bed made--is it good?" "Yea,

sir, it is a good feder-bed; the scheetes be very cleane." "Pull off

my hosen and warme my bed; drawe the curtines, and pin them with a

pin. My shee frinde, kisse me once, and I shall sleape the better. I

thank you, fayre mayden." This suggestion of the manners obtaining in

the English inns is but an indication of a similar state of freedom

throughout the lower classes of society. For while the glory of the

Elizabethan age was found mostly at the top of society, its coarseness

pervaded all ranks.

The rough manners of the age extended to the countenancing of all

sorts of brawls. There was nothing that would collect a crowd sooner

than two boys whose pugnacity had led them from words to blows; the

passers-by considered such a scene fine sport, and gathered about the

young combatants to encourage them in their fighting. Even the mothers

themselves, far from punishing their children for such conduct,

encouraged it in them. Cock fighting, bear baiting, wrestling, and

sword play were favorite pastimes. The girls delighted to play in the

open air, with little regard to grace or decorum; a game called tennis

ball was popular. The milkwomen had their dances, into which they

entered with zest. Pets were in favor with the ladies almost as much

as in the former century, and exploration into new countries had

increased the variety of them. In the prints of the times, ladies are

often represented with monkeys in attendance on them.

With the great multiplicity of new fashions, in novelties in customs

and in costumes, in manners and even in morals, there came into vogue,

from the East, hot, or, as they were called, "sweating baths." They

became very common throughout England, and the places where they

were to be gotten were commonly called "hothouses," although their

Persian name of _hummums_ was also preserved. Ben Jonson represents

a character in the old play _The Puritan_ as saying in regard to a

laborious undertaking: "Marry, it will take me much sweat; I were

better to go to sixteen _hothouses_." They became the rendezvous of

women, who resorted to them for gossip and company. The rude manners

of the age were not conducive to the preservation of these places from

the illicit intrigues which made them notorious, and caused the name

"hothouse" to become a synonym for "brothel." It was their acquired

character that probably led eventually to their disuse. They were not

necessarily vicious, and they furnished a convenience for the sex, who

did not have the shops and clubs of to-day as places for meeting and

the interchange of small talk. It must be remembered that the taverns

supplied this need for the men, but, excepting in the case of the

lower orders of society, the women had no similar place for such

social intercourse as was secured to the men by their tavern clubs.

The hothouses were not simply bath houses of the modern Turkish type,

but were restaurants as well. While seated in the steaming bath,

refreshments and lunch were served on tables conveniently arranged for

the purpose, and, after ablutions, the women remained as long as they

cared to, in conversation. The picnics which had formerly taken place

at the tavern were transferred to the hot bath, each of the women

carrying to the feast contributions which were shared in common.

This practice, which began with the servant maids, passed to their

mistresses and on up the scale of society, and became fashionable

for the ladies of the higher circles. In the absence of the modern

newspaper, these places became the distributing centres for the

news of the day and the talk of the town. The tavern served the same

purpose for the men.

Dancing was indulged in by all classes of society, and the variety

and curious names of the new styles which were introduced during the

Elizabethan era are well set forth in the following quotation from a

festal scene in Haywood's _Woman Kilde with Kindnesse_:

"J. SLIME.--I come to dance, not to quarrel. Come, what shall

it be? _Rogero_?

JEM.--_Rogero_! no! we will dance the _Beginning of the

World_.

SISLY.--I love no dance so well as _John, Come Kiss Me Now_.

NICH.--I that have ere now defer'd a cushion, call for the

_Cushion-dance_.

R. BRICK.--For my part, I like nothing so well as _Tom Tyler_.

JEM.--No; we'll have the _Hunting of the Fox_.

J. SLIME.--_The Hay_; _The Hay_! there's nothing like _The

Hay_!

NICH.--I have said, do say, and will say again--

JEM.--Every man agree to have it as Nick says.

ALL.--Content.

NICH.--It hath been, it is now, and it shall be--

SISLY.--What, Master Nicholas? What?

NICH.--_Put on your Smock o' Monday._

JEM.--So the dance will come cleanly off. Come, for God's

sake agree on something; if you like not that, put it to the

musicians; or let me speak for all, and we'll have _Sellengers

Round_."

The nuptial usages of the age included some curious customs. Thus,

we are told by Howe in his _Additions to Stowe's Chronicle_ that,

in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, "It was the custome for maydes and

gentlewomen to give their favourites, as tokens of their love, little

Handkerchiefs, of about three or four inches square, wrought round

about, and with a button or a tassel at each corner, and a little one

in the middle, with silke and thread; the best edged with a small gold

lace, or twist, which being foulded up in foure crosse foldes, so as

the middle might be seene, gentlemen and other did usually weare them

in their hattes, as favours of their loves and mistresses. Some cost

six pence a piece, some twelve pence, and the richest sixteen pence."

Handkerchiefs were the customary messengers of Cupid; the present of

a handkerchief with love devices worked in the corners was a delicate

expression of the tender sentiment. Thus, in Haywood's _Fayre Mayde

of the Exchange_, Phyllis brings a handkerchief to the Cripple of

Fanchurch to be embroidered, and says:

"Only this hankercher; a young gentlewoman

Wish'd me to acquaint you with her mind herein:

In one corner of the same, place wanton Love,

Drawing his bow, shooting an amorous dart--

Opposit against him an arrow in an heart;

In a third corner picture forth Disdain,

A cruel fate unto a loving vein;

In the fourth, draw a springing laurel-tree,

Circled about with a ring of poesy."

Wedding contracts in the times of the Tudors were peculiar, not being

regarded as binding unless there had been an exchange of gold or the

drinking of wine. In the old play of _The Widow_, Ricardo artfully

entices the widow into a verbal contract, whereupon one of her suitors

draws hope for himself through the possibility of the engagement being

invalid because it lacked the observance of this custom. He says:

"Stay, stay--you broke no Gold between you?" To which she answers: "We

broke nothing, Sir;" and on his adding: "Nor drank to each other?" she

replies: "Not a drop, Sir." Whence he draws this conclusion: "That the

contract cannot stand good in Law." The custom of throwing rice after

a wedded couple is a continuance of the practice in the sixteenth

century of throwing wheat upon the head of the bride as she came from

the church. Marriage was not considered irrevocable, because, aside

from the regular forms of divorce, it was not unusual for a husband

to sell his wife for a satisfactory consideration. Even down to recent

times, the people in some of the rural districts of England could not

understand why a husband had not a right so to dispose of his wife,

provided he delivered her over with a halter around her neck. Henry

Machyn notes in his _Diary_, in 1553, the following: "Dyd ryd in a

cart Checken, parson of Sant Necolas Coldabbay, round abowt London,

_for he sold ys wyff_ to a bowcher." When the contracting parties

were too poor to pay for the ceremony and the wedding feast, and the

expenses of the occasion were met by the guests clubbing together, the

occasion was termed a "penny wedding."

One of the popular customs of the day was to observe Mayday in the

country districts by erecting a brightly decorated Maypole, about

which the young people danced the simple rustic dances. It is not

unusual to find people to-day sighing for a return of the good old

customs of yore, and a favorite lament is the lapse of the observance

of Mayday in the old English manner. There was, doubtless, some

innocent amusement associated with this popular holiday, and only the

most captious Puritan could object to it because of its derivation

from the old Roman festival of Flora; but, unfortunately, the manners

of the sixteenth century did not leave room for much of innocent

observance of sports and pastimes in the open air, so that, in fact,

the dances about the Maypole were too frequently gross and unseemly.

Charles Francis Adams, in his editing of Morton's _Narrative_, in

the Prince Society Publications, in commenting upon the Merrie Mount

incident in the early settlement of New England, calls attention

in a footnote to the judgment of a contemporary writer as to the

iniquities which were practised in connection with what in the

popular imagination of the day was a wholesome and happy pastime.

The statement in the passage quoted by him of the startling depravity

which signalized the day throughout rural England awakens the

pertinent question as to what was the moral state of the women of

the rural population of the country. The testimony of the manners and

customs of the day, and the effect upon England of the indescribable

profligacy of the peoples of France and Italy, force the unpleasant

conclusion, after making all extenuation for the standards which

then obtained, that the vice which in the higher circles was as "the

creeping thing that flieth" appeared in the lower circles of society

in all of its foulness.

Life in the country was very delightful; buildings of fanciful

architecture were erected, the majority of them still being of wood,

the better sort plastered inside and the walls hung with tapestry

or wainscoted with oak, against which stood out in bold relief the

glittering gold and silver plate, which not alone the nobles and

gentry, but the merchants and even the farmers and artisans, loved

to possess. But in spite of their love of plate, Venetian glassware,

because of its rarity, was preferred for drinking vessels. The

housewife of quality no longer had to strew rushes upon the floor,

for Turkish rugs were imported and used by the wealthy. Beds were hung

with the finest silk or tapestry, and the tables were covered with

linen. The homes of all classes showed the increase in the comfort

of living. Even the poorest women could boast of chimneys to their

houses, and were no longer suffocated by the smoke which for egress

depended upon a hole in the roof. In 1589 a wise law was passed that

no cottage should be built on a tract of less than four acres of land,

and that only one family was to live in each cottage. Feather pillows

and beds took the place of straw pallets with a log of wood for a

headrest. The poorer homes, which could not afford expensive rugs,

were still strewn with sweet herbs, which, however, were renewed and

kept fresh, and the bedchambers were made fragrant with flowers. The

economy of the kitchen was not the hard problem it had formerly been,

for in the time of Elizabeth, the period of which we are speaking,

the laboring classes could obtain meat in abundance. The "gentry ate

wheaten, and the poor barley bread; beer was mostly brewed at home;

wine was drunk in the richer houses. Trade brought many luxuries to

the English table; spices, sugar, currants, almonds, dates, etc.,

came from the East." Indeed, so many currants were imported into the

country that it is said that the people of the places from whence they

were shipped supposed that they were used for the extraction of dye

or else were fed to the hogs; but the real explanation was the great

fondness of the English people for currants and raisins in their

pastry. While they were not gluttonous, the English then, as now, were

fond of the table, and gave much attention to eating and drinking.

The old people of the age regretfully looked back over their lives

to former days, when, as they said, although the houses were but of

willow, Englishmen were oaken, but now the houses were oaken and the

Englishmen of straw. The appearance of chimneys was not greeted as

an improvement, for the poor had never fared so well as in the smoky

halls of other days; they could not bear the thought that their

windows, which were formerly of wickerwork, were now of glass, or that

now, instead of sweet rushes, foreign carpets were upon the floors

of many houses; or that so many houses were being built of brick and

stone, plastered inside. It was regarded as a sure indication of

a decline in virility that the sons of the sturdy yeomen of a past

generation should crave comfortable beds hung with tapestry, and use

pillows--luxuries which once were thought suited only for women in

childbed. In the midst of an influx of new comforts, there was a

barrenness of things considered to-day to be essential, and the

absence of which was made the more glaring by reason of the many

comforts and luxuries with which life was surrounded. "Good soap was

an almost impossible luxury, and the clothes had to be washed with

cow-dung, hemlock, nettles, and refuse soap, than which, in Harrison's

opinion, 'there is none more unkindly savor.'"

A Dutch traveller, who in 1560 visited England and recorded his

impressions of the English home, introduces us to a pleasant picture

of the home life of the times, in the following words: "The neat

cleanliness, the exquisite fineness, the pleasant and delightful

furniture in every point for household, wonderfully rejoiced me; their

chambers and parlors strawed over with sweet herbs, refreshed me;

their nosegays, finely intermingled with sundry sorts of fragrant

flowers in their bedchambers and privy rooms, with comfortable smell

cheered me up." The parlors were freshened with green boughs and fresh

herbs throughout the summer, and with evergreens during the winter.

During the reign of Elizabeth, the hours for meals were the same as in

the fifteenth century, although between the first meal and dinner it

was customary to have a small luncheon, mostly composed of beverages,

and called a _bever_. A character in one of Middleton's plays

says: "We drink, that's mouth-hour; at eleven, lay about us

for victuals--that's hand-hour; at twelve, go to dinner--that's

eating-hour." Dinner was the most substantial meal of the day, and its

hearty character was commented upon by foreign travellers in England.

It was preceded by the same ceremony of washing the hands as in

former times, and the ewers and basins used for the purpose were often

elaborate and showy. It must be remembered that at table persons of

all ranks used their fingers instead of forks, and the laving of the

hands during the meals was important for comfort and cleanliness.

After the introduction of forks, the washing of hands during the meal,

though no longer so necessary as before, was continued as a polite

form for a while, although the after-meal washing appears to have

been discontinued. The pageantry and splendor which attended feasting

reached their greatest height in the first half of the sixteenth

century. The tables were arranged around the side of the hall, some

for the guests, and others to hold the tankards, the ewers, and the

dishes of food; for it had not yet become the practice to put anything

on the table in setting it other than the plates, the drinking

vessels, the saltcellars, and the napkins. The dresser, or the

cupboard, was the greatest display article of furniture in the hall of

the houses of the higher orders of society, who invested large amounts

of money in vessels of the precious metals and of crystal, which

were sometimes set with precious stones and were always of the most

beautiful patterns and of odd and elaborate forms. To such lengths

went personal pride in the appearance of the dresser, that points of

etiquette were raised by careful housewives as to how many steps, or

gradations on which the rows of plate were placed above each other,

members of the different ranks of society might have on their

cupboards. Five for a princess of royal blood, four for noble ladies

of the highest rank, three for nobility under the rank of duke, two

for knights-bannerets, and one for persons who were merely of gentle

blood, was fixed as proper form. Dinner was still served in three

courses, without any great distinction in the character of the dishes

served at each course. One of the writers of the times says: "In

number of dishes and changes of meat the nobility of England do most

exceed." "No day passes but they have not only beef, mutton, veal,

lamb, kid, pork, coney, capon, pig, or so many of them as the season

yields, but also fish in variety, venison, wildfowl, and sweets." As

there were but two full meals in the day, and as the households of the

nobility, including the many servants and retainers, were large, and

as it was the practice for the chief servants to dine with the family

and the guests, it will be seen that a large and varied supply of food

was needed. The upper table having been served, the lower servants

were supplied, and what remained was bestowed upon the poor, who

gathered in great numbers at the gates of the nobility to receive

the leavings from their meals. It can be seen that the labors of the

women in supervising the affairs of the household were onerous. Among

gentlemen and merchants, four, five, or six dishes sufficed, and if

there were no guests, two or three. Fish was the article of greatest

consumption among the poor, and could be obtained at all seasons.

Fowls, pigeons, and all kinds of game were abundant and cheap. Butter,

milk, cheese, and curds were "reputed as food appurtenant to the

inferior sort." The very poor usually had enough ground in which to

raise cabbages, parsnips, carrots, pumpkins, and such like vegetables,

which constituted their principal food, and of which both the raising

and the preparation for the table were largely the work of the women.

Among the lower classes, the various feasts of the year and the bridal

occasions were celebrated with great festivity, and it was the custom

for each guest to contribute one or more dishes.

"Sham" is the keynote to an understanding of Elizabethan society; the

Virgin Queen herself, with all her undoubted worth and abilities, was

the embodiment of the vanity and pretence of her age. Young unmarried

women loved "to show coyness in gestures, mince in words and speeches,

gingerliness in tripping on toes like young goats, demure nicety and

babyishness," and when they went out, they had silk scarfs "cast about

their faces, fluttering in the wind, or riding in their velvet visors,

with two holes cut for the eyes." The visors here mentioned bring

to mind Hamlet's "God hath given you one face, and you make yourself

another; you jig, you amble, you lisp, you nickname God's creatures,

and make your wantonness your ignorance." The general use of masks in

public places toward the close of Elizabeth's reign did not improve

the moral status of the higher classes. The pretentiousness and the

superficiality of the times are laid bare by Harrington, the favorite

godson of the queen, whose arraignment is in unsparing terms: "We go

brave in apparel that we may be taken for better men than we be;

we use much bombastings and quiltings to seem better framed, better

shouldered, smaller waisted, and fuller thighed than we are; we barb

and shave oft to seem younger than we are; we use perfumes, both

inward and outward, to seem sweeter, wear corked shoes to seem taller,

use courteous salutations to seem kinder, lowly obeisance to seem

humbler, and grave and godly communication to seem wiser and devouter

than we be."

The dress of the women of the Elizabethan era shows the same

extravagance that is apparent in all the exaggerated social phases

of the time. Philip Stubbs, who wrote at the close of the sixteenth

century a book entitled _The Anatomy of Abuses_, appears to have

been a choleric and gloomy observer of current manners, but, with due

allowance for the spirit in which he writes, a very clear picture can

be gotten of the style and excesses of dress of the several classes of

society. He affirms that no people in the world were so hungry after

new-fangled styles as were those of his country. After having dilated

on the large amounts spent for dress, he digresses in order to

moralize, and adds that the fashionable attire of the day is unsuited

to the actual needs of the wearers' bodies and "maketh them weak,

tender, and infirm, not able to abide such blustering storms and sharp

showers as many other people abroad do daily bear." It is curious to

find him harking back to the old days of which he had heard his father

and other sages speak, when all the clothes for the household were

made by the busy housewife, and coats were of the same color as

the wool when it was on the sheep's back. In the abandonment of the

household woollen industry and the excessive use of imported fabrics,

he sees the reason for the many thousands in England who were reduced

to the necessity of begging bread. Starch, which is now such a homely

and universally helpful laundry assistant, and to the expert use of

which so much of the freshness and smartness of women's attire is due,

was then first introduced. "There is a certain liquid matter which

they call starch," says this censorious critic of current customs,

"wherein the devil hath learned them to wash and dive their ruffs;

which, being dry, will then stand stiff and inflexible about their

necks." The ladies of his day must have been more expert in the use

of starch than are their sisters to-day, as they introduced into it

coloring matter, so that it temporarily dyed the fabrics red, blue,

purple, and other colors, of which yellow seems to have been the most

esteemed.

The yellow starch which was so much in use originated in France, and

was introduced into England by a Mrs. Turner, a physician's widow,

a vain and infamous woman, who ended her career on the gallows in

expiation of the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury. Bulwer says that it is

hard "to derive the pedigree of the cobweb-lawn-yellow-starched ruffs,

which so disfigured our nation, and rendered them so ridiculous and

fantastical." It appears that when the introducer of the custom was

led to the gallows she was conspicuous in a yellow ruff worn about

her neck, and after her execution the wearing of such ruffs rapidly

declined. Having said this much about the ruffs which were a

characteristic feature of the dress of the day of both men and women,

it may be well to add that starch was not wholly depended upon for the

support of these preposterous neck dresses. Wire frames covered with

silver or silk thread were employed for the purpose. These ruffs are

often referred to in the literature of the period. Allusion is made to

them in the play of _Nice Valour_, by Beaumont and Fletcher, where the

madman says:

"Or take a fellow pinn'd up like a mistress,

About his neck a ruff like a pinch'd lanthorn,

Which school-boys make in winter."

Stubbs also pays his respects to the gowns of the women, which he says

were no less "famous" than the rest of their attire. A quotation will

serve to give an idea of the materials which were in use for dress

goods and the embellishments of women's gowns; "Some are of silk, some

of velvet, some of grograin, some of taffeta, some of scarlet, and

some of fine cloth of ten, twenty, or forty shillings the yard; but,

if the whole garment be not of silk or velvet, then the same must be

laid with lace two or three fingers broad all over the gown, or else

the most part; or, if it be not so, as lace is not fine enough, now

and then it must be garded with gards of velvet, every gard four or

five fingers broad at the least, and edged with costly lace; and, as

these gownes be of divers colours, so are they of divers fashions,

changing with the moon; for, some be of the new fashion, some of

the old; some with sleeves, hanging down to their skirts, trailing

on the ground, and cast over their shoulders like cow-tails; some

have sleeves much shorter and cut up the arm, drawn out with sundry

colours, and pointed with silk ribbands, and very gallantly tied with

love-knots, for so they call them." To these striking costumes were

added capes which reached down to the middle of the back, and which,

our author informs us, were "plaited and crested with more knacks than

he could express."

It is impossible to do more than mention the absurdities in general

of women's attire and toilette during the eccentric Elizabethan era.

Ladies painted their faces and wore false hair, as they had done in

other ages, only with greater refinements of hideousness; they stuffed

their petticoats with tow, and drew in their waists to incredible

smallness as compared with the vast expansiveness of their form from

the waist down, which was secured by the use of farthingales. The way

they tilted up their feet with long cork soles made them amble much

after the fashion of the women of China with their bandaged feet. They

wore jewels and ornaments in great profusion, fine colored silk hose,

which had lately been introduced among the other foreign "gewgaws"

of the times, and exchanged with their friends as valued presents

embroidered and perfumed gloves. In the light of the varied styles

of the day, the criticism, "Like a crow, the Englishman borrows his

feathers from all nations," was a true one.

In the midst of the gayety and frivolity of the Elizabethan age, the

forces of reaction were hidden, but already active; and the mutterings

of discontent which were heard presaged the social outbreak which was

to lead a king to the block.

Women of England · 第 10 / 15 章