It pleased our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, without the assistance of man, being free from original and all other sins, from the time of his conception till the hour of his death, to be begotten of a woman, born of a woman, nourished of a woman, obedient to a woman; and that he healed women, pardoned women, comforted women … after his resurrection appeared first to a woman, and sent a woman to declare his most glorious resurrection to the rest of his Disciples.101
The title poem describes Christ’s passion from the point of view of the female witnesses of the crucifixion. Lanier points out that it was men who crucified Christ and Pilate’s wife who tried to stop the execution. Elsewhere, she gives ‘Eve’s apology’ – an argument that the original sin of eating the forbidden fruit wasn’t Eve’s fault alone:
But surely Adam cannot be excused;
Her fault, though great: yet he was most to blame;
What weakness offered, strength might have refused,
Being Lord of all, the greater was his shame:
Although the serpent’s craft had her abused
God’s holy word ought all his actions frame,
For he was Lord and King of all the Earth
Before poor Eve had either life or breath.
This is a witty and imaginative piece of work, sustained for two hundred stanzas. But what is astonishing about it is the boldness of Lanier’s stance. She clearly rejects the idea that women are inferior to men; rather, she seems to suggest that women, being in a mystical union with Christ, are in fact superior. Thus women are starting to use their position as published writers to rail against their secondary status in society. It will take another three hundred years to make any significant progress against patriarchy, but the roots of feminism can be found in the public voice that women acquire in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. They can be seen in Anne Locke making her way to Geneva to take part in the Calvinist Reformation; they are apparent in Isabella Whitney’s self-confidence to publish her tirade against the lover who left her; and they are evident in the ruthless yet graceful logic of Emilia Lanier.
Even though Elizabeth herself does nothing directly to advance the cause of women, she clearly inspires her female contemporaries. In legal terms, nothing changes; but under her rule, women begin to enjoy social freedoms that they have never enjoyed in the past, and a few brave souls gain public respect – not as the wives of great men, but on account of their own intellectual and creative brilliance.
3
Religion
Given the split with Rome and the establishment of a national Church, you might think that society is becoming more secular in the sixteenth century. If you look around you, there are plenty of things to suggest that this is happening. The Dissolution of the Monasteries has resulted in a reduction in the numbers of priests and churches. Huge amounts of ecclesiastical property have been confiscated. The monarch – a secular individual – is the head of the Church. Saints’ cults are outlawed, their statues smashed and their altars removed. All the chantries have been abolished – there are to be no more Masses sung for the dead who built the chapels – and the practice of laying wax or wooden images of human limbs and animals on altars and praying for their recovery is outlawed. Church ales (brewed to raise money for church funds) are discouraged and wakes for the dead are abolished. Most religious processions and fraternities are banned, as are religious indulgences. Even rosary beads are made illegal.
These prohibitions are not aimed at religion itself, but at Roman Catholicism, which is widely considered as unfit for purpose. In fact, society is becoming more religious, not less. Naturally, the population occupies a spectrum of religious positions, but if you talk to those at the more spiritual end, you will see that they wish to commune with God more directly, without the distractions of so many statues, images and decorations, and certainly without the money-making and political interventions of the papacy. Yes, there is a secular element to the nationalism of the Church of England, but this is largely a by-product of the desire to eliminate anything that comes between the humble Christian and God. It is this desire that creates the reforming zeal of Elizabeth’s ministers and their brand of Anglicanism. A heightened form of this passion gives rise to Puritanism and Calvinism. Conversely, for traditionalists, the sense that their spiritual values are under attack from these fanatics reinforces their commitment to the Catholic cause and their resistance to Anglicanism, Puritanism and Calvinism. Although most people are not prepared to risk their lives for the sake of a religious viewpoint, some are. They would rather die than deny what they believe to be the truth.
For this reason, it would be deeply unwise to set off into Elizabethan England without knowing something of its religion. Religion touches upon every aspect of Elizabethan life. Not only that, but orthodox faith changes so rapidly that you need to know what is acceptable at any given time. In Mary’s reign, no fewer than 283 men and women are burnt at the stake for maintaining their Protestant beliefs – many of which would be called orthodox in Elizabeth’s reign. Although Elizabeth’s government does not burn as many people as Mary’s, proscribed views are still enough to get you killed. What is orthodox in 1558 is sufficient to have you hanged in 1570. This is something to ponder on: the religious changes of the sixteenth century are far more profound, far-reaching and rapid than those of the twentieth century, which we think of as a century of great change.
Atheism
You might think that, if you have no religion, no one will bother you. After all, the rivalry is between Catholics and Protestants – surely you can simply rise above the controversy? There you would be wrong. The atheist is the enemy of all, being utterly godless and therefore outside the scope of Elizabethan morality. As Francis Bacon writes in his essay ‘On atheism’: ‘they that deny God destroy a man’s nobility; for certainly man is of kin to the beasts by his body; and, if he be not kin to God by his spirit, he is a base and ignoble creature’.
Not believing in God is like not believing in trees. Most people simply cannot conceive of a line dividing the metaphysical and the physical. To them the two are indivisibly linked: Creation cannot exist without its Creator. However, from the middle of the century certain people start to be labelled ‘atheists’ by their enemies. Some even admit themselves to being nulla fidians or ‘nothing believers’. Then, in 1583, Philip Stubbes writes his Anatomy of Abuses, which defines atheists as people who ‘deny there is any God’.1 Atheism as we know it is born.
Two groups of people lead the way in separating the physical and the metaphysical. First, there are the political philosophers influenced by Niccolo Machiavelli, whose book The Prince makes no appeal to morality or divine intervention, but is simply a study in how to control a state – as if God does not exist. Second, there are the physicians and surgeons who make a distinction between the physical and the metaphysical when considering certain diseases and ailments. William Bullein, who is both a clergyman and a physician, writes of a fictional medical man in 1564: ‘I am neither Catholic, Papist, Protestant or Anabaptist, I assure you.’ To this his plague-ridden patient replies: ‘What do you honour? The sun, the moon, or the stars, beast, stone or fowl, fish or tree?’ The physician answers: ‘No forsooth. I do none of them all. To be plain, I am nulla fidian and there are many of our sect.’2
Bullein himself is not an atheist. For a start, if God does not exist, then the ability of physicians to effect cures is entirely dependent on their knowledge of the human body, and that is clearly limited. It is far better for a physician to maintain that he is God’s instrument and that the Almightly cures people through him. For reasons of human compassion, many physicians genuinely want to perform such medical miracles. In addition, developments in medical philosophy towards the end of the century suggest that medicines might be found in nature for every human ailment, thus revealing the hand of a benevolent Creator. Last but not least, there is the plain fact that, given the choice, most gravely ill patients would prefer a priest to come to their bedside than a physician, h
aving more faith in the redemptive power of the Almighty than the curative abilities of physicians. The philosophical position of the nulla fidians is simply inadequate when it comes to helping sick and dying people: both physicians and patients need to believe in an interventionist God.3
The word atheist also means ‘against God’ and in this sense it comes to be used in the late sixteenth century as a method of smearing a person’s reputation. If a person can be shown to be acting ‘against God’, then he is effectively excommunicated, having placed himself in enmity to all God-fearing people. Catholics argue that Protestants act in ways that are ‘against God’ and denounce them as atheists – even though the Protestant position is driven by a commitment to a simpler, more direct relationship with God. In 1565–6 the physician John Caius is accused of atheism by members of his college at Cambridge University. In 1592 Sir Walter Raleigh is accused of presiding over a school of atheism in which ‘both Moses and our Saviour, and the Old and New Testaments, are jested at, and the scholars taught, among other things to spell “God” backwards’. In October 1596 the Church of Scotland minister David Black declares that Queen Elizabeth herself is an atheist and the religion professed in England nothing but a show.4 Such accusations are all propaganda. Dr Caius is a humanist, but not an unbeliever; his accusers simply don’t like the autocratic way in which he rules the college. Raleigh does entertain some challenging philosophical points of view, but his own writings reveal him to be an Anglican conformist.5 As for Elizabeth, although she dismisses theologians as ‘ropes of sand’, her own commitment to religious reform suggests that her personal faith is strong. She retains her father’s title of ‘Defender of the Faith’ and maintains that she rules by the grace of God.
There is one man who does profess himself to be an atheist, but he is hardly typical. This is the charismatic and unorthodox Christopher Marlowe, the playwright and poet. The earliest indications of Marlowe’s atheism are to be noted in 1587, when a fellow undergraduate at Cambridge, Mr Fineux, claims that Marlowe inducted him into atheism. However, Fineux clarifies this by adding that he occasionally goes out at midnight into a wood and prays heartily that the Devil might come. This clearly is not atheism as we know it, but being ‘against God’ – or devil-worship. Over the years Marlowe encourages people to associate him with atheism. In his play The Jew of Malta he has the ghost of Machiavelli declare, ‘I count religion but a childish toy / and hold there is no sin but ignorance.’ In 1592 Robert Greene accuses him of declaring, ‘There is no God’, and of embracing ‘Machiavellian policy’ and ‘diabolical atheism’. One Richard Cholmeley confesses that he was converted to atheism by Marlowe, who ‘is able to show more sound reasons for atheism than any divine in England is able to give to prove divinity’. Another informant claims that it is Marlowe’s custom ‘to jest at the divine scriptures, gibe at prayers and strive in argument to frustrate and confute what hath been spoken or written by prophets and such holy men’; he accuses Marlowe of joking that St John the Baptist was Christ’s homosexual lover.6 Given that men can be hanged for homosexual acts in Elizabethan England (in line with the Vice of Buggery Act of 1563), and that heretics are burnt alive, a man who jokes that Christ is a sodomite is putting his life at risk. Marlowe does not exactly help himself by declaring, ‘all they that love not tobacco and boys are fools’.7 The government orders him to be arrested on account of his indiscretions, but before he can be brought in for questioning, he is stabbed to death in a house in Deptford in 1593, in an argument over a supper bill.
The Elizabethan Settlement of 1559
One of the popular misunderstandings of Elizabethan England is that, at the very moment when Mary I dies, on 17 November 1558, England suddenly ceases to be a Catholic kingdom, just as if a candle has been snuffed out. As you will see, it isn’t like that. Unlike Henry VIII’s reforms, which are suddenly imposed on the people by the king’s will and upheld by violence, Elizabeth’s Church is the result of a series of long debates and compromises in parliament, which are made palatable to the majority principally by their very Englishness. Indeed, the whole process of discussion is probably the reason why the Church of England proves so enduring. England remains a Protestant country not because of Henry VIII and his marital difficulties but because of the resolution of Elizabeth and her government to establish a new independent Church of England which is acceptable both to the majority of Englishmen and the queen herself.
At the start of her reign, everyone is full of curiosity, expectation and nervous apprehension concerning Elizabeth’s religion. Eighteen days after becoming queen, on 5 December 1558, she issues a summons for parliament to assemble on 23 January. The days tick by. The Venetian ambassador, Il Schifanoya, listens for any hint about the likely religious developments. On 17 December he writes home in alarm, saying, ‘at court, when the queen is present, a priest officiates who says certain prayers with the litanies in English after the fashion of King Edward. I pray God to grant that worse may not happen.’ Elizabeth’s appointment of a Protestant to be the first preacher at St Paul’s Cross in London causes the Catholics further concern. So does the appointment of seven new members to the privy council – all Protestants. She allows her late sister to be buried according to the Catholic rite in Westminster Abbey in mid-December, which gives the Catholics some hope; but then on 31 December Il Schifanoya hears terrible news. He writes:
Until now I have believed that the matters of religion would continue in the accustomed manner, her majesty having promised this with her own mouth many times; but now I have lost faith and I see that little by little they are returning to the bad use. On Christmas Day the bishop of Carlisle sang high Mass and her majesty sent to tell him that he was not to elevate the host; to which the good bishop replied that thus he had learnt the Mass and that she must pardon him as he could not do otherwise. So, the gospel being ended, her majesty rose and departed.8
The queen’s premature departure from Mass leaves little doubt that the kingdom is set to leave the Church of Rome again. On 12 January 1559 Elizabeth takes a barge to the Tower and, on the 14th, in accordance with royal custom, she makes her way through the streets of London to Westminster Abbey, where she is to be crowned on the following day. On the day itself there are a number of pageants held on Cornhill, in Gracechurch Street, in Soper Lane and in Fleet Street. Over the next two days there are celebratory jousts at Whitehall. But beneath this veneer of pageantry, the country is on tenterhooks.
It is fair to say that many people just want things to continue as they are. When the news of Elizabeth’s accession reaches Much Wenlock in Shropshire, on 25 November, the feast of St Catherine, the sheriff informs the vicar who makes the pronouncement in a loud voice, exhorting all to pray for ‘Queen Elizabeth, by the grace of God, queen of England, France and Ireland, Defender of the Faith’. Then, after a suitable anthem, he goes to the altar and says a Catholic Mass.9 The congregation has no great desire to see all its time-honoured traditions shifted once more. There are also many of whom it may be said ‘they love a pot of ale better than a pulpit’, especially in rural areas.10 But there is a real hunger for change among the more literate townsfolk. Ever since the Bible was first printed in English, in 1526, men and women have been studying it in detail. They have been instructing themselves in the teachings of Christ and interpreting the lessons of the Old Testament without the intervention of priests. Increasingly over the years such self-taught interpretations have clashed with the time-honoured interpretations of the Church, and there is a profound frustration at the Church’s refusal to change its views. People look at all the trappings of official religion and question how much religious practice is actually rooted in the Bible. Very little, they conclude. The Reformation of the Church under Henry VIII has encouraged them to think more freely: if Henry could abolish the monasteries, why then not remove the whole paraphernalia of Catholic ritual? These things are just symbols, they argue – mere fripperies by comparison with the serious business of prayer. A few more ferven
t and courageous thinkers go further. Why should the monarch have the right to interfere in matters of religion? Why cannot the state and the Church be separate? Why should there be a hierarchy of bishops and archbishops? Why not have just simple priests serving their communities in a humble way, as the apostles did in the New Testament?
Elizabeth’s very existence is the result of Henry’s split with Rome. It was for her mother, Anne Boleyn, that her father divorced his first wife, then broke from Roman Catholicism and had himself proclaimed Supreme Head of the Church in 1534. Elizabeth is the living product of that religious break. Therefore she is bound to associate herself more with the reformers than the traditionalists. There is also the political element to consider. As she herself aptly puts it in a later speech to parliament: ‘one matter toucheth me so near as I may not overskip: religion, the ground on which all other matters ought to take root … ‘11 Religion is the basis of most people’s understanding of how the world works – from Creation through to the health of the individual – and as the Church intrudes into almost every walk of life, it is hugely important to incorporate its authority within that of the Crown. Elizabeth herself has personal preferences, such as that the clergy should remain unmarried and celibate, and that both the extravagant religious vestments and church music should be retained; she has no time for the Calvinist reformers who would abolish the ecclesiastical hierarchy. But these are minor issues compared to her principal objective: that, as queen of England, she should be the Supreme Head of the Church, like her father. It is the combination of spiritual and secular authority that delivers absolute authority, giving the monarch’s political rule divine approval.
The Time Traveller's Guide to Elizabethan England Page 10
