"Thither she goes along the strandAnd pushes the chest so far from land,Casts the chest so far from shore:'To Christ the Mighty I give thee o'er;To the mighty Christ I surrender thee,For thou hast no longer a mother in me.'"
"Thither she goes along the strandAnd pushes the chest so far from land,Casts the chest so far from shore:'To Christ the Mighty I give thee o'er;To the mighty Christ I surrender thee,For thou hast no longer a mother in me.'"
"Thither she goes along the strand
And pushes the chest so far from land,
Casts the chest so far from shore:
'To Christ the Mighty I give thee o'er;
To the mighty Christ I surrender thee,
For thou hast no longer a mother in me.'"
The custom of exposing illegitimate offspring shows a retrogression from the standards of rugged chastity which were characteristic of the earlier period of the Anglo-Saxon settlement in Britain. In those times, as we have seen, the German women were models of virtue; the slightest departure from morality was viewed with horror and visited with severe punishment. If the one guilty of misconduct were married, she was shorn of her hair, the greatest degradation to which she could be subjected, and then driven naked from her husband's house, her own relatives giving their countenance and aid to the husband in thus banishing her. She was expelled from the village, and not allowed to return. At a later date, such a woman, married or unmarried, was made to strangle herself with her own hands; her refusal to do so availed nothing, as thewomen of the neighborhood stripped off her garments to the waist, and then with knives, whips, and stones hunted her from village to village until death mercifully relieved her from further torture.
In spite of such harsh penalties, the moral standard could not be maintained at a high level. It is more than likely that its decline was due in part to the women whom the Northmen brought with them. When they touched the shores of Britain, it was often after piratical voyages that had taken them to the coasts of France, Spain, Italy, and even Africa. When this was the case, they were always accompanied by large numbers of female slaves from these countries. Then, too, the greater part of the British women were reduced to slavery by the new masters of the country, and none of these were treated with the consideration for their sex that was accorded the German women. The repute of the women of the Anglo-Saxons remained unimpaired, excepting as to particular classes and particular times; the women not of Anglo-Saxon origin were, perforce, the chief offenders against morality.
The era of the Danish invasion was a time of almost unbridled license. Female character could not withstand the tide of immorality that came in with the new wave of heathen invaders. The women whom the Vikings brought with them were captives of the lowest grade, ravished from their homes for the pleasure of their captors on their long sea voyage. On their arrival they were made slaves of the camp, following the army wearily in its marches from place to place. This miserable degradation was forced upon many pure English women by the brutal lords of the sea. When the invaders settled down to live at peace with the English, and, by amalgamation, to be absorbed into the larger race, it was centuries before thecountry recovered from the blight of immorality that had fallen upon it; but, with its rare powers of recuperation, Anglo-Saxon virtue reasserted its principles and caused its conquerors to subscribe to them.
Before considering the dress, the amusements, and the employments of the women, a description of the Anglo-Saxon house will serve to illustrate much of the common life of the women. This was not evolved from that of the Briton; it marks a departure in the architecture of the country. Neither the rude houses of the poorer of the Britons nor the villa of the Roman provincial appealed to the forest nomads, who were accustomed to light, tentlike structures that could be readily taken down and erected elsewhere as their changing habitat directed.
The Anglo-Saxon town of the earliest period was only a cluster of wooden houses—a family centre constantly added to by the increase and dividing of the household, until the settlement assumed something of the proportions of a town. Stone was not in favor with the Teutons for their dwellings. They saw in it the relic of the demigods of a remote past; stone masonry seemed supernatural, and they called it "the giants' ancient work." The house of the Teutons was probably a development of the ancient burrow; as Heyn expresses the process of its evolution: "Little by little rose the roof of turf, and the cavern under the house served at last only for winter and the abode of the women." The summer house of wattles, twigs and branches, bound together by cords, and with a thatched roof, a rough door, and no windows, seemed to serve these unsettled people, whose surroundings abounded with the materials for substantial edifices.
The architecture of the Germans developed rapidly. Soon there was a substantial hall, or main house, which was the place of gathering and feasting and the sleepingplace of the men. The women slept, and we may say dwelt, in the bower. Necessary outbuildings were supplied in abundance. The floor of the hall was of hard earth or of clay, perhaps particolored, and forming patterns of rude mosaic. It was no uncommon thing for the rough warrior to ride into the hall, and to stable there his beloved steed, as will be seen from the following extract from an English ballad of a later date, which is given us by Professor Child:
"Kyng Estmere he stabled his steedeSoe fayre att the hall-bord;The froth that came from his brydle bitteLight in Kyng Bremor's beard."
"Kyng Estmere he stabled his steedeSoe fayre att the hall-bord;The froth that came from his brydle bitteLight in Kyng Bremor's beard."
"Kyng Estmere he stabled his steede
Soe fayre att the hall-bord;
The froth that came from his brydle bitte
Light in Kyng Bremor's beard."
Rows of benches were commonly placed outside of the hall; the exterior walls and the roof were painted in striking colors. Huge antlers fringed the gables; the windows, lacking glass, were placed high up in the wall, and a hole in the roof sufficed for the escape of smoke.
Such was the early English hall, as it appears to us in the ballads and stories of the times. The magnificent lace and embroidered hangings with which were draped the interior walls of the habitations of the nobility served the double purpose of decoration and protection from the cold draughts that came in through the numerous crevices. Even the royal palace of Alfred was so draughty that the candles in the rooms had to be protected by lanterns. Benches and seats with fine coverings added comfort and elegance to the hall. In front of these were placed stools, with richly embroidered coverings, for the feet of the great ladies. The tables in these Anglo-Saxon homes were often of great beauty and costliness. In the reign of King Edgar, Earl Aethelwold possessed a table of silver that was worth three hundred pounds sterling. Many sortsof candelabra, some of them of exquisite pattern and workmanship, made of the precious metals and set with jewels, were used to impart to these old halls the dim light that in our fancy of the times becomes a feature of the romance of the knightly homes of older England.
Warm baths were essential to the comfort of the Anglo-Saxon; to be deprived of them and of a soft bed was one of the severe penances imposed by the Church. The ladies' bower was perfumed with the scents and spices of India and the East.
Though the houses still left much to be desired in the way of architectural features as well as ordinary convenience, the appointments and furnishings of a home of the later Anglo-Saxon period showed a keen appreciation of creature comforts.
The law of hospitality opened all doors to the wayfaring freeman. When he wound his horn in the forest as he approached the hall to protect himself from being set upon as a marauder, he was welcomed to the warm fire, the loaded table, and the guest bed, without question. In later times, the traveller was permitted to remain to the third night. The guest who came hungry, weary, and dusty to one of these hospitable homes and received admittance might esteem himself fortunate, for the women of the time were well versed in the art of wholesome cookery, and had at hand a plentiful variety of foods. For their meats they might select from the choice cuts of venison, beef, and lamb, besides pork, chicken, goat, and hare. Birds and fish afforded greater variety. Of the latter there were salmon, herring, sturgeons, flounders, and eels; and of shellfish, crabs, lobsters, and oysters. Horse flesh was in early use as a comestible, but later became repugnant to taste, and was discountenanced by the Church in the latter part of the eighth century.
To the meats was added a variety of warm breads, made of barley meal and of flour. Eggs, butter, cheese, and curds, with many sorts of vegetables, were to be found on the tables; while figs, nuts, almonds, pears, and apples were probably served by the women to the company as they sat in discourse about the fire, or, stretched at full length upon the floor, became absorbed in games of chance. For the Germans were such inveterate gamblers that money, goods, chattels, their wives, and even their own liberty, were often risked by the casting of dice.
The women were admitted to seats at the tables with the men, the girls being engaged in serving the drinks, which were as freely used then as now. Even after the company were surfeited with food and the tables were removed, drinking was kept up until the evening.
The costumes of a people are of the greatest worth in revealing to the student their grade of civilization and their ideals. There can be no question but that taste in dress is one of the best gauges by which to determine whether at a particular time the people were serious minded or frivolous, moral or immoral, swayed by high aspirations or the prey of indolence and sensuous gratifications. Just as truly can we arrive at the characteristics of a race or a period by seeing the people at their play. If we find them given to gladiatorial exhibitions, we shall not err in concluding that they were a vigorous and war-like people; if they are found at the bull fight, we may safely adjudge them to be a brutalized and enervated race. The Anglo-Saxon can safely be brought to this test. If the dress of the women is a criterion of morals, then were these people of early England exemplary; if the games in vogue denote the race characteristics, then were they rude, but wholesome.
After the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons to Christianity, there were evidently some changes made in their garb, to indicate their abjuration of heathenism; for in the Church council of 785 the complaint was made that "you put on your garments in the manner of the pagans, whom your fathers expelled from the world; an astonishing thing, that you should imitate those whose life you always hated." Change of style in dress was practically unknown among the ladies of the Anglo-Saxon period of English history. The illuminations of the old MSS., from which all that is definitely known on the subject is derived, show that the dress of the women remained practically the same during the entire period.
The costume of the women can be described with many details. There was an undergarment, probably made of linen, extending to the feet; it had sleeves that reached to the wrists and were there gathered tightly in little plaits. There was an absence of needlework of any sort, excepting a simple bit of embroidery upon the shoulder. The customary color of the garment was white. Over this was worn the gown, which was slightly longer than the undergarment, and reached quite to the ground. It was bound about the waist by a girdle, by which it was sometimes caught up and shortened. The sleeves are most frequently pictured as extending to the wrist, and were worn full. Sometimes, however, they reached to only the elbow, and in some cases were wanting altogether. This garment was prettily ornamented with embroidery, in simple bands of sprigs, diverging from a centre. Another form of dress that is represented seems to have been an out-of-doors or travelling costume. It differed from the other in being of heavier material, possibly of fine woollen goods, and had sleeves that extended to the knees. It is possible that this was a winter dress, and the other a summer one.
A mantle was worn about the shoulders. This, likewise, was of a solid color, usually contrasting with that of the gown. This garment appears to have been round or oval in shape, with an aperture at one side, so that when it was put on it hung much further down the back than in front. The head was covered with a wimple, broad enough to reach from the top of the forehead to the shoulders, where it was generally wrapped about the neck in such a way that the ends fell on the bosom. A less studied, but more tasteful, way to wear it was to have it hang down on one side as far as the knee; the effect of the contrasting colors of the wimple, the mantle, and the gown was gratifying to women of taste. The shoes were black, and of simple style. They resembled the house slippers worn by women to-day; but besides these low shoes, which came only to the ankles, other shoes were worn, that reached higher up the leg and appeared to have been laced much as shoes now are. Stockings may or may not have been used.
It will be seen from this description of the costume of the Anglo-Saxon woman that it was modest, complete, and in good taste. She was, however, proud of her attire, and of the many ornaments that were worn with it. The ornament in most general use was the fibula, or brooch. This was of many styles: radiated, bird-shaped, cruciform, square-shaped, annular, and circular. It was of gold, bronze, or iron, and showed the greatest delicacy of workmanship. It was worn on the breast, a little to one side, so as to fasten the mantle. When we are reminded that the Anglo-Saxons were highly skilled in the art of dyeing, and that they had perfected the art of gilding leather, we can readily see that a lady of quality, when dressed in her blue, purple, or crimson costume of state, her girdle clasped by a finely chased brooch of gold, whose fellow gleamedin the folds of her mantle, might have invited comparison, to advantage, with the most stylishly attired woman of to-day. But when we add to her dress a mantle, not only of rich colors, but embroidered in ornate design, with heavy threads of pure gold; massive arm rings of the same precious metal, of wonderfully beautiful pattern, and fastened about her round white arm by delicate little chains; and numerous strings of gold, amber, and glass beads, rich in pattern and cunningly chased, the picture presented of the Anglo-Saxon woman is altogether pleasing. The ornaments of the women were not considered as mere matters of adornment. To the pagan woman, her beads served as a protection against supernatural foes. When Christianity came in, the beads were blessed by a pious man and continued to serve the same useful end.
The bronze combs found everywhere in the graves of the time show how careful the women of the day were to keep in perfect order the long locks of which they were so proud. From the graves have been recovered chatelaines, of the fashion of those now in vogue, golden toothpicks, ear spoons, and tweezers. These ornaments and toilet requisites were in constant use in life; and in pagan times they were interred with their owner, that they might still be hers in the other world.
The Anglo-Saxons understood the art of inlaying enamel, and their colors were remarkably bright and enduring. But the most striking evidence of proficiency in the jeweller's art was theircloisonnéware. This art of the East was spread by the barbarian invasions over the whole of Europe; De Baye, in hisIndustrial Arts of the Anglo-Saxons, calls it "the first æsthetic expression of the Gothic nations," and says that it was not borrowed, but was adapted from the East. He describes it as follows: "Thiscloisonnéwork, set with precious stones in a kindof mosaic, and combined at times with the most delicate filigree, is sufficiently characteristic to be remarkable in every country where it has left traces." This beautiful form of art penetrated Kent and the Isle of Wight, where for some reason it became localized and assumed a particular character. Some of the fibulæ that have been preserved to us, and are to be found in the art collections of England, are remarkable specimens of this beautiful craft.
The love of English women for outdoor sports can be traced to Anglo-Saxon times, and much of the wholesome vigor of the race is due to those early pastimes. However fond women may have been of fine ornaments, then as now it was the privilege of the few to possess them; but the national sports were enjoyed by all. Hunting, hawking, boating, swimming, fishing, skating, were in great favor with the people.
In the winter there were many long hours to be whiled away indoors, and although spinning and weaving the fabrics for the family wear, as well as their embroidery and lace work, took up much of the time, the women still had ample leisure to engage with the members of their households and, perhaps, the passing guests in the many simple games that delighted them. Chess was in marked favor, and was played in much the same manner as now. The exchange of witticisms and the guessing of conundrums added much to the innocent mirth of a household intent on making the long evenings pass as pleasantly as possible.
There were itinerant purveyors of amusement who were to be found at every feast and at many family firesides. These were the wandering minstrels, or gleemen. Although they were welcomed for the entertainment they furnished, yet as a social class they were certainly in slight repute. Their forms of entertainment were not limited to music.They presented a programme that included the performances of trained animals, tricks of jugglery, feats of magic, and other exhibitions of skill and daring. Along with the gleemen went the glee maidens, who were the dancing and acrobatic girls of the day. Dancing itself was a very rudimentary performance, but the enthusiasm of the audience was aroused by the acts of tumbling and contortion that were introduced into it. Convinced that dancing alone could not account for the bewitchment of Herod by the daughter of his brother Philip's wife, the translators into the vernacular of that Biblical circumstance say of Herodias that she "tumbled" before Herod; and the illuminations in a prayerbook of the time show Herodias in the act of tumbling, with the assistance of a female attendant.
Slight protection, either from law or custom, was afforded women of the lower classes from gross insults. Any female was likely to be stopped on the road and partially or altogether denuded of her clothing, and then sent on her way with taunts and jeers. But, despite the coarseness of the Anglo-Saxon times, sentiment finally made Itself felt for the correction of such manners. The women were responsible for the diffusion of notions of greater refinement.
While there was little deserving the name of education, and even reading and writing were the accomplishments of but a small part of the people, the monastic orders conserved some notion of scholarship. Unfavorable as were the times to productive thought, scholars of no mean ability nevertheless flourished, and among men and women alike there was a desire for learning. To his female scholars the monk Anghelm dedicated his works:De Laude Virginitatis. Certain Saxon ladies of leisure occupied themselves with the study of Latin, which they came to read and write with some ease. The literary antecedentsof the brilliant women of the sixteenth century are to be found in that little group of studious women of the Anglo-Saxons, of whom the Abbess Eadburga and her pupil Leobgitha, with both of whom Saint Boniface corresponded in Latin, were the most notable.
The nuns were a class apart. The separation of the monks and the nuns in the monastic establishments was gradually brought about by Church regulations and the rules of the orders. By the end of the seventh century the separate monasteries had effected the separation of the men and the women, and in the eighth century the erection of double monasteries was forbidden. Long before this time, however, the more earnest of the ladies in superintendence of the monasteries had prohibited the admission of men to the female side of the establishments, excepting such men as the sainted Cuthbert and the venerable Bede. These regulations were very strict and almost put an end to the scandalous allegations about the religious establishments. The charge that the priests resorted to the monasteries for mistresses probably had no better foundation than the fact that many of the priests continued to marry, in spite of the rule of celibacy. Whatever truth there is in the assertion that kings obtained their mistresses from the ranks of the nuns must be laid to the civil interference and claims of jurisdiction over religious institutions. But while the headship of convents was frequently offered to women of high rank and low morals, whom it was convenient thus to get rid of, and in this way certain institutions became debauched, the monastic system itself did not become corrupt, and there were monasteries of notable purity and great worth.
The story of Eadburga, the widow of Beorthric, King of Kent, illustrates the hardships inflicted upon the monasteries, through the assumption of royal personages toappoint their heads. Eadburga was a notable beauty, and was renowned as well for her talents and her ambition. She ruled her husband with a jealous tyranny, removing from court by false accusation or by poisoning all who stood in her path. The Earl Worr, a young man of great personal charm, was one of those who exerted an influence over her husband. On some occasion of public hospitality she proffered him a cup of poisoned liquor; the king, who was present, claimed his right of precedence, and, after drinking from the cup, passed it to the earl, who drained it. Both of them died, leaving the guilty queen exposed to the wrath of the royal family. Eadburga fled to the court of Charlemagne, where she was graciously received, and after a time the king suggested to her that she lay aside her widow's weeds and become his wife. She showed so little tact as to say that she would prefer his son. Charlemagne, piqued by her answer, said that had she expressed a preference for him, it had been his purpose to give her in marriage to his son; as it was, she should marry neither of them. She remained at the court until the king, scandalized by her wicked life, placed her at the head of an excellent monastery. In this responsible position, Eadburga behaved herself as badly as ever; and as the result of an amour with a countryman of low birth, she was expelled from the convent. This widow of a monarch ended her career as a common beggar in the streets of Pavia.
A very different class from the nuns, but, like them, a distinct class in the social life of Anglo-Saxon times, were the slaves. The least amiable trait of the women of the times was their treatment of servants. Although there were striking instances of kindly and considerate regard for this class on the part of their mistresses, yet the slight legal protection afforded them, and the rough,impetuous natures of the masters, made the existence of the servile class miserable. It was not unusual for slaves to be scourged to death; and for comparatively slight offences they were loaded with gyves and fetters and subjected to all kinds of tortures. On one occasion, the maidservant of a bellmaker of Winchester was, for a slight offence, fettered and hung up by the hands and feet all night. The next morning, after being frightfully beaten, she was again put in fetters. The following night, she contrived to free herself, and fled for sanctuary to the tomb of Saint Swithin. This was not an exceptional instance; it illustrates the severity that was customarily meted out to serfs.
The queens and other ladies of rank among the Anglo-Saxons included some who were ornaments to the sex in industry and intelligence as well as charity. Their influence on politics for good or for evil was often the result of their position as members of rival houses. Christianity was often furthered by the alliance of a Christian princess to a pagan king; Bertha, the daughter of a famous Frankish king, was in this way instrumental in the introduction of Christianity into England. Herself a Christian, she married Ethelbert, King of Kent, on condition that she should be permitted to worship as a Christian under the guidance of a Frankish bishop named Lindhard. The condition was observed, and Bertha had her Frankish chaplain with her at court. She seems not to have made any attempt to convert her husband; and he never disturbed her in her religion. The pope was probably informed of the auspiciousness of the outlook for the introduction of Christianity into the Kentish kingdom, and, being still under the influence of the impression made upon him by the flaxen-haired Angles he had seen in the slave markets of Rome before his elevation to the pontificate, he determined to make goodthe vow he had then registered to send missionaries to the land of the boy slaves. Augustine was selected for the mission, and on arriving, with his companions, in England, after a great deal of trepidation for their personal safety, they presented themselves at the court of the King of Kent Ethelbert received them in the open air, with a great show of pomp, and gave them his promise to interpose no hindrance to their missionary endeavors among his people. To Bertha must be ascribed the credit for the complaisance of her husband and the opening that was made to restore the Christian faith, which had perished with the Britons.
Edith, the gentle queen of Edward the Confessor, was noted alike for her skill with the needle and her conversance with literature. Ingulf'sHistory, though perhaps not authentic, gives us a delightful picture of the simplicity of her Anglo-Saxon court. "I often met her," says this writer,—meaning Edith,—"as I came from school, and then she questioned me about my studies and my verses; and willingly passing from grammar to logic, she would catch me in the subtleties of argument. She always gave me two or three pieces of money, which were counted to me by her hand-maiden, and then sent me to the royal larder to refresh myself."
Ethelwyn, another royal lady, and a friend of Archbishop Dunstan, was accustomed to decorate the ecclesiastical vestments, and the art needlework of herself and her companions became celebrated. On account of his well-known skill in drawing and designing, Dunstan was frequently called into the ladies' bower to give his views in such matters. While they worked, he sometimes regaled them with music from his harp.
These pleasing views of the character and the employments of the royal ladies in Anglo-Saxon times, seen in their simple pursuits, are more agreeable than the storiesof those who were engaged in court intrigues, to relate which would necessitate a history of the political movements of the day. We shall later have ample opportunity to see woman as an influence in affairs of thrones and dynasties. For the present, it will suffice to regard royal woman in the way in which she is prominently presented to us in Anglo-Saxon annals—as the lady of refined domesticity.
A picture of the social life of England during the Norman period is a picture of manners and customs in a state of flux. But amid all the instability of the times, when political institutions, laws, customs, and language were inchoate, the tendencies were so marked that it is quite possible to watch the emergence of a solidified people. The two great social factors to be considered are the baronial castles and the women of those castles. The castle was the characteristic feature of the Anglo-Norman period; its conspicuousness increased as time went on, until, in the reign of Stephen, there were no less than eleven hundred of these units of divided sovereignty scattered over the country.
During the period of national unsettlement which followed upon the Conquest, these frowning castles arose; they owed their existence to the lack of adequate laws for the safeguarding of life and of property, and to the absence of the machinery of government for the enforcement of law. But, principally, they represented the mutual jealousies of the Norman barons, to whom had been apportioned the lands of the Saxons—jealousies which found a common attraction in an aversion to the centralizing of power in the hands of any monarch who had ambitions to be more than a superior overlord.
This social insecurity was intensified during the reign of William by the danger of attack from the implacable Saxon bands of warriors who had retired into the swamps and from those fastnesses conducted a fierce guerrilla warfare upon the Normans. So full of danger was the period, that the closing of the castle for the evening was always an occasion for serious prayer and commitment of the inmates to Divine protection, as there was no knowing but that before morning a besieging force might appear before the gates and institute all the horrors of attack and beleaguerment.
The elevation of woman to the plane of companionship with her husband was largely due to the peculiar conditions of the feudal state of society, of which the frowning castle that crowned the many hilltops was the sinister characteristic. Exposed as she was to the same dangers, and sharing the responsibilities of her husband, there was no room for a distinction of status to be drawn between them. By reason of environment, wifely equality with her husband was not a matter of theoretical but simply of practical settlement. It was needful that the wife should be a woman of courage and of resources. But while the matter of sex did not constitute a badge of inferiority in the home relations, the peculiar perils to which the women were exposed constituted an appeal to manhood that evoked a chivalrous response; and when life became less hard and there was better opportunity for the expression of the tenderer sentiments, this especial regard for woman rose to the height of an exalted devotion.
It would not be right to assume, however, that the greater prominence and influence of woman outside of her home was a sudden emergence from former conditions. In so unsettled an era it became, however, a more general, more pronounced feature. We may find an earlier indication of the interest of the great lady in the affairs of her lord andin the welfare of his dependants, as well as of the advance of chivalrous sentiments, in the story of Lady Godiva. It was in 1040 that Leofric, Earl of Mercia, was besought by his wife, who was remarkable for her beauty and piety, to relieve his tenantry of Coventry of a heavy toll. Probably little inclined to grant her request, he imposed what he may have thought impossible terms, when he consented to her plea on condition that she would ride naked through the town. To his amazement, doubtless, the Lady Godiva accepted the condition; and Leofric faithfully carried out his agreement. The lady, veiled only by her lovely hair, rode through the streets; and to the honor of the good people of Coventry, it is said that they kept within doors and would not look upon their benefactress to embarrass her. One person only is said to have peeped from behind the curtain of his window, and the story runs that he was struck blind, or, according to another version, had his eyes put out by the wrathful people. This curious person was the "Peeping Tom of Coventry," whose name has become proverbial.
Society develops in strata, so that the elevation of the women of the castles did not enable the women of the hovels to profit by conditions out of the range of their lives. The lower classes, or villains, which included the grades of society styled, in the Anglo-Saxon period, the freemen and the serfs, were the social antitheses of the society of the castles. The women of the lower class benefited not at all by the new dignity that was acquired by the women of the castles during the feudal régime; in fact, they suffered the imposition of new burdens and the exactions of a feudal practice which took the form of tribute, based on the persistent idea of the vassalage of their sex. The great middle class, which was to play such an important part in the social and industrial history of England, had not emergedas a separate section of the people of the country. But what the lady of the Norman castle obtained for her class through one phase of feudalism, the woman of the guild aided in securing by another in the centuries which marked the rule of the Angevin kings; and in both Norman and Angevin times the influence of the Church was constantly on the side of the womanhood of the country, and was probably a more potent force than any other, for the exaltation of woman was the one policy which proceeded on fixed principles.
The castles too often degenerated into centres of rapine and pillage; perpetual feuds led to constant forays, and no traveller could be assured that he would not be set upon by one of these robber barons and his band of retainers—little better than remorseless banditti. But there were castles of a better sort, nor were all knights recreant to their vows. In assuming the obligations of his order, the newly vested knight swore to defend the Church against attack by the perfidious; venerate the priesthood; repel the injustices of the poor; keep the country quiet; shed his blood, and if necessary lose his life, for his brethren. Nothing was said in the oath about devotion to women, nor was such a thing at first contemplated as a part of the knight's office. His office was a military one, and sentiment did not enter into it. The chivalrous feature grew out of the circumstances of the times—the unprotected situation of woman, the fact that the knight who enlisted in the service of a baron, and the baron as well, often had to leave the women of their households dependent for protection upon the opportune courtesy of other knights and lords. When the country had become more orderly and manners had softened, with the increased security given to life and property and the better means of obtaining justice, this chivalrous feature continued and became prominent in the knightly character and office.
In the early times, when the life of the knight was of the roughest, there were adventurous young women, caught by the excitement it offered, who donned the habiliments of the knight and plunged into the dangers of his career. The story is told of the quarrel of two Norman ladies, Eliosa and Isabella, both of them high-strung, loquacious, and beautiful, and both dominating their husbands by the forcefulness of their natures. But while Eliosa was crafty and effected her ends by scheming, Isabella was generous, courageous, sunny-tempered, merry, and convivial. Each gathered about her a band of knights and made war upon her adversary. Isabella led her knights in person, and, armed as they were and as adept in the use of her weapons, she advanced in open attack upon her foe. Such incidents, though not usual, were yet in accord with the spirit of the time.
Every lady was trained in the use of arms for the needs of her own protection when the occasion should arise. Sometimes the practice of sword drill was carried on in the privacy of the lady's apartment. Thus, it is related of the Lady Beatrix—who, by reason of her expertness and her intrepidity in the actual use of arms, gained for herself the sobriquetLa belle Cavalier—that the first knowledge that her brother had of her martial proclivities was when, through a crevice in the wall, he happened to observe her throw off her robe, and, taking his sword out of its scabbard, toss it up into the air and, catching it with dexterity, go through all the drill of a knight with spirit and precision; wheeling from right to left, advancing, retreating, feinting, and parrying, until she at last disarmed her imaginary foe. We read of the Knight of Kenilworth that he made a round table of one hundred knights and ladies, to which came, for exercise in arms, persons from different parts of the land.
In such setting is found the life of the woman of the day. But below whatever of chivalry was to be found in this turbulent age, which extended from the coming of William the Conqueror to the end of the reign of Stephen, it was preëminently a rude, boisterous, and uncultured era. The lack of uniformity of language was as much opposed to the development of literature as was the general unsettled condition of the times. Education, slight as it was, had suffered a relapse, and it was not until the twelfth century that anything like real literature was developed.
As the castle was the characteristic feature of the time, and within its walls will be found much of the matters of interest relating to the women of the day, a description of one of these domestic fortresses will make clearer the customs of the times in so far as they relate to the women of the higher classes.
The site selected for the ancient castle was always a hilltop or knoll that lent itself to ready defence. The foot of the hill was enclosed by a palisade and a moat; these circumvallations frequently rendered successful assault impossible, and the only recourse open to the attacking force was a protracted siege. As the stranger on peaceful mission bent approached one of these massive structures, rearing its frowning walls in silhouette against the blue of the sky, he could not fail to be impressed with the majesty and grandeur of its walls and turrets. He would notice the round-headed windows, with their lattice of iron and the numerous slitlike openings which supplemented the windows for the access of light and, as loopholes, played an important part in the defence of the fortress. On coming to the gateway, flanked on either side by bastions, pierced to admit of the flight of arrows, the warden would open to him, and he would be conducted into a courtyard,whose sides were made by the walls of the hall, the chapel, the stable, and the offices. Within the courtyard, he would observe a garden of herbs and edible roots, and also a fine display of flowers; perhaps, too, a small enclosure in the nature of a cage, containing a number of animals—the trained animal collection of the jongleurs, who commonly attached themselves to the following of barons.
On passing into the hall, he would be at once struck by its absolute meagreness; a few stools, some seats in the alcoves of the wall, a few forms, some cushions and a sideboard, making its complement of furniture. The abundance and beauty of the plate on the sideboard might partially redeem in his eyes the barrenness of the place. The minstrel's gallery in the rear of the hall would be suggestive of the convivial uses of that portion of the castle. No elaborate draperies would be seen; some strips of dyed canvas upon the walls alone served to make up for the lack of plaster, and to afford some protection from damp and the spiders whose webs could be seen in the ceiling corners. On passing out again into the courtyard, he would observe the tokens of domestic pursuits in the kitchen utensils and the dairy vessels upon benches, and cloths hung upon poles above. Passing by the subsidiary buildings, and ascending to the ladies' bower by the outside staircase, he would find a few more evidences of comfort than greeted him in the hall below. Instead of common canvas, the walls would be draped with some embroidered materials, cushions would be more plentiful, the touches of femininity would be observed in various little elements of comfort and adornment; but, with all this, he would find it dreary enough. Should he return, however, to this boudoir when the ladies were gathered for their afternoon's sewing, the scene would make up in animationwhat it lacked in attractiveness of surroundings. On going into the bedchamber, a glance would reveal its contents. Seats in the wall, a stool, a curiously shaped bed, candelabra, and two projecting poles, the one for falcons and the other for clothes, would complete the sum of its furniture. The bed furnishings would consist of a drapery, pendent from an odd roof, rather than a canopy, over the bed. The bed would look to him comfortable enough, with its quilted feathers and pillow attached, and, over these, sheets of silk or of linen, and over all a coverlet of haircloth, or of woollen fabric, lined with skins. One compartmented bed fixture, with its curious divisions, was thought to afford sufficient privacy for honored guests of different sexes, who were all cared for in the same chamber; if the number of the guests and of the household was large, several bed fixtures or bedsteads might be observed. The servants slept indiscriminately in the hall below.
Such was the simplicity of the interior arrangements and furnishings of the castle. But within these rooms, devoid of many of the ordinary comforts of modern life and altogether lacking in its luxuries, assembled women who prided themselves on their noble estate and extraction; here, too, were held many assemblies of state; kings in their progresses through their kingdom tarried for entertainment, bringing with them magnificent retinues. Feasts and social functions called forth all the highbred graces of the fair hostess and made the castle a scene of merriment and of joyous conviviality. Here, too, were held orgies of drunkenness and of depravity; intrigues smouldered within these walls, to break out into an open flame of rebellion; while dramas of noble self-abnegation and plightings of faithful love were enacted there as well. Amid all these scenes moved the lady of the castle.
A few of the typical views of castle life in which the women figured conspicuously will serve to give a more particular setting to the general idea of their status and employments. While men gave themselves up to feats of arms, the women had the task of hospitably entertaining the guests who frequented the castles; in the interim of these festivities and the exacting care of a host of servants, they applied themselves assiduously to needlework, and in no other way does the woman of the times appear in so pleasant a light as when thus engaged. Her facility in lace and embroidery work is not attested alone by contemporary writers, but has come down to us in its finest expression. The famous Bayeux tapestry, possibly the most ingenious specimen of needlework that the world has known, calls up the most interesting of the castle scenes as related to woman. It is the expression of the artistic and historical sense of Matilda, the wife of William I. In some such lady's bower as has been described, the fair queen assembled the ladies of her court, and the Bayeux tapestry was created amid the interchange of small talk, becoming more serious as at times the figures of the pattern recalled some particular horror of personal loss on the part of some of the ladies present, entailed by the great battle whose glory was the central theme of their labors. With womanly self-effacement, they had in mind only those whose deeds were in this unique manner to be handed down to posterity, and had no thought of the monument to womanly devotion that they were erecting for the honor of the sex. Every scene involved the perpetuation of the memories and the valor of those who were dear to them; and as the record passed into the embroidered pattern, it was dwelt upon with words of glowing pride. In some such way took shape the picture-history of the event that found its consummation in the battle of Senlac.By its wealth and accuracy of detail, this monument of woman's skill became a historical document of the first order for the period to which it relates. But to the student of the English woman its chief value must lie in its revelation of the depth of the pride and devotion to husbands, brothers, and lovers that it reveals—devotion to the living and the dead alike, which is the secret of its reverent accuracy, excluding as it does vainglorious exaggeration. It thus becomes a memorial of deeds of valor and of defeat, of triumph and of death; a monument to the Norman, but, unwittingly, a monument to the defeated Saxon as well.
We are reminded by this historic tapestry of the pathetic story of Edith of the Swan's Neck. King Harold had been slain on the battlefield by a Norman arrow which had pierced his brain. His mother and the Abbot of Waltham had successfully pleaded with Harold's victorious rival for permission to bury the king within the abbey. Two Saxon monks, Osgod and Ailrick, were deputed by the Abbot of Waltham to search for and bring to the abbey the body of their benefactor. Failing to identify on the field of Senlac (Hastings) the bodies denuded of armor and clothing, they applied to a woman whom Harold, before he was king, had had for a companion, and begged her to assist them in their search. She was called Edith, and surnamed la belle an you de cygne. Edith consented to aid the two monks, and readily discovered the body of him who had been her lover.
The queen who conceived and furthered the execution of the Bayeux tapestry was representative of the best type of Norman womanhood. Her devotion to her husband was proverbial, and his faithfulness to her has never been questioned. Intrigues among persons who could not brook the moral atmosphere of a court such as Matilda maintained were common enough, and the envious breathof scandal even sought to shake the confidence of her royal husband in her; but all such attempts were unavailing. Matilda became in every sense the consort of William, and thus marked a forward step for the womanhood of the country. Without such recognition of the wife of William I., England would never have had the brilliant and versatile Elizabeth or the wise and womanly Victoria to number among the great examples of high worth which make the list of England's notable women one of the chief glories of her history. As the manners of the court affect the standard of the nation, that the tone of the times was not lower in an age of turbulence, when moral standards were debased, must be to some extent accredited to the example of the queen.
When Matilda died, the country was still rent by fierce hatreds and passionate outbursts; the unplacated Saxon had been little influenced by her. It was reserved for another Matilda, the wife of Henry I., to aid in healing the breach, and, by uniting the discordant elements, put the country in a position for the development of those arts of civilization which only can flourish in an atmosphere of peace. When Matilda, then areligieuse, was adjudged by the Church authorities not to have taken the veil, or to have assumed the vows that would have severed her from the world and committed her to a life of virginity, she reluctantly heeded the clamor of the Saxon element of the people, and yielded to the importunities of Henry to become his wife and the country's queen. So was secured to the land a queen in whose veins ran Saxon blood and who had received an Anglo-Saxon education. Through her influence, many salutary laws were enacted to relieve the disabilities of the people. The wives and daughters of the Saxons were secured from insult; the poor and honest trader was assured equity in his business transactions,and other matters of equal import owed their enactment to the kindly disposed queen. In this manner were allayed animosities which had continued to smoulder under a sense of repeated injustices, and with the growth of mutual confidence there came about an identity of aspiration and effort on the part of the two elements of the population. Intermarriage facilitated this happy tendency, and the perseverance of the Anglo-Saxon tongue, modified indeed by Norman admixture, did much for its furtherance. Thus, the two peoples gradually fused into one nation. That Matilda did much to secure this desirable end entitles her to be regarded as the mother of reconciliation.
The Norman ladies of rank came under the influence of the queen, and it was not uncommon to find them, like the Anglo-Saxon ladies, engaged in the profitable concerns of the poultry yard and the dairy, instead of giving themselves up to court intrigues. The two Matildas represent the best element of the noble womanhood of the day; neither of them was faultless, and the first was charged with an act of vindictiveness toward a Saxon who spurned her love that ill comports with the accepted estimate of her amiability and worth; but while not impeccable, yet both reflected in their lives the signal qualities which, when illustrated in times adverse to them, ennoble the sex.
Returning to the employments of the ladies of the castles, the most typical of these as illustrating the manners of the times, next to the industry of the bower, was the hospitality of the hall. The hostess took her place beside her lord, by virtue of her recognized equality of position, and directed the movements of the servants, who were kept busily employed passing around the dishes—the meat being served upon the spits, from which the guests might carve what they pleased. No forks were used at the table, fingers answering every purpose. On very greatoccasions thepièce de résistancewas a boar's head, which was brought into the hall with a fanfare of trumpets, the guests greeting its appearance with noisy demonstrations. Another delicacy, which a hostess was always pleased to serve to persons of consequence, was peacock. The presence of this bird was the signal for the nobility to pledge themselves afresh to deeds of knightly valor. Cranes formed another of the unusual dishes generally found at these state banquets. As the dinner proceeded, the thirst of the company was assuaged by copious draughts of ale or mead and of spiced wines. That such festivities invariably developed scenes of hilarity and disorder was in the nature of the case, and it was not a strange thing to see the valorous knights, under the mellowing influence of too frequent potations, indulge in such disgraceful acts as throwing bones about the room and at one another, until these bone battles passed into more serious fracases. The woman of refinement had reason to dread these carnivals of gluttony and debauch; and when they became too offensive, she sought the seclusion of her private apartments.
All the while the minstrels played their instruments and sang their songs, often improvising from incidents in the careers of those present, or taking for a theme some vaunting sentiment to which a cup-valorous knight gave expression. No bounds of propriety were observed in the theme or in its treatment by these paid entertainers.
As the dishes were brought in, amid the rude songs and coarse jests of these jongleurs, another company, even more reprobate than they, gathered about the hall door and sought to snatch the dishes out of the hands of the servants. These were theribaldsorletchers—a set of degraded hangers-on at the castle, lost to all self-respect and ready for any base deed that might be required of them. To them was allotted the refuse of the feast.