The feminine beauty ideal was in essence to personify the English rose, and nobody embodied this more than Queen Elizabeth I herself. To this end various make-up techniques were devised and circulated in recipes, a phenomenon spurred on by the spread of the printing press.
Some of these methods were harmful, including arsenic skin masks, mercury lipstick, and lead skin whitener. Others were innocuous but to our eyes still quite strange. How about varnishing your face with egg whites?
Perhaps you would be even less keen on puppy juice, an Early Modern concoction as horrifying as it sounds.
“Unfortunately it’s exactly what you think it is,” explains Sally Pointer, educator and author of The Artifice of Beauty: A History and Practical Guide to Perfume and Cosmetics, who joins Professor Suzannah Lipscomb in an episode of Not Just the Tudors.
The prevailing Tudor enthusiasm for alchemy suggested that it was possible to extract the qualities of something through distillation. One of these distillations, which indicates a ruthless zeal in harvesting seemingly wholesome ingredients, was puppy dog water.
“You take a beautiful, young, soft, perfect puppy,” says Pointer. It is then (for lack of a better word) chopped up. It is then boiled. “Sadly it doesn’t survive the experience.”
Portrait of Clarissa Strozzi by Titian, 1542, where she holds her Phalène dog.
Image Credit: Public Domain
The alembic it is distilled in contained other liquids, probably wine or water. “You distil it and the water is supposed to contain all the virtues of all the things that made the puppy young and beautiful and adorable.”
The resulting water would then be used as a cosmetic toner with moisturising properties.
“This wasn’t a one-off,” says Pointer. “We have lots of references to this.”
A recipe recorded in Nicholas Culpeper’s 17th century Pharmacopoeia Londinensis instructs:
“Takes Sallet Oil four pound, two Puppy-dogs newly whelped, Earthworms washed in white Wine one pound; boil the Whelps til they fall in pieces then put in the worms a while after strain it, then with three ounces of Cypress Turpentine, and one ounce of Spirits of Wine, perfect the Oil according to Art.”
Reassuringly, not everybody was keen on the idea. The famous diarist Samuel Pepys, whose private accounts make up one of the most important historical sources for the period, records that he became upset with his wife because she tried this puppy concoction.
Listen to the episode now or sign up to History Hit for advert-free listening to 8 podcast series, with early access and bonus episodes for subscribers.
]]>Here we explore more about how merchants ensured quality control following The Great Debasement to prove that their coins, and the coins they were trading with, were accurate – and the importance of this in England’s credibility in global trade.
The Great Debasement
During the reign of King Henry VIII, England faced significant economic changes, notably marked by the Great Debasement. The Great Debasement refers to a deliberate policy undertaken by Henry VIII to devalue the currency as a means to bolster the royal treasury and address financial woes.
In order to increase revenue for the Crown, from 1544, Henry VIII began reducing the amount of precious metal in gold coins. This act aimed to create more coins from the same quantity of silver, effectively increasing the money supply. However, the consequence was a decline in the value of currency, leading to inflation and economic instability.
The process of debasement continued with subsequent reductions in the silver content of coins. In some cases, the precious metal content was replaced almost entirely with cheaper base metals such as copper. This policy had a profound impact on the economy, resulting in rising prices, economic uncertainty, disruption of trade, and a loss of public trust in the currency.
While the Great Debasement temporarily aided the Crown’s financial situation, it ultimately contributed to economic turmoil and long-term consequences for England’s monetary system, requiring subsequent monarchs to address and stabilise the currency.
Impact on trade
The accuracy of a coin’s value was not just important internally, but also of upmost importance for merchants trading oversees – both for their personal credibility and indeed the credibility of the nation.
The devalued currency caused by the Great Debasement led to a decline in the purchasing power of English coins abroad. This made English goods more expensive for foreign buyers, diminishing the competitiveness of English exports in international markets. As a result, England faced challenges in maintaining its previous levels of trade and struggled to sustain favourable trade balances with other countries.
Furthermore, the fluctuating value of the currency caused uncertainty for foreign merchants and traders engaging in commerce with England. The diminished value of English coins made transactions and negotiations complicated, affecting trust and confidence in trade dealings.
Merchants’ Scales and Weights, probably made in the mid-17th century in Cologne
Image Credit: Brandeis University / Robert D. Farber University Archives and Special Collections
Recovery
The recovery of English trade after the Great Debasement was gradual and spanned several decades. Subsequently, to cover their backs, 17th century merchants carried their own scales and weights to do quality control checks themselves, proving and verifying that their coins, and the coins they were trading with, were accurate. They also used ‘merchant books’ which detailed all of the characteristics, dimensions and weights that coins should be, as well as featuring drawings of all their coins.
During the late 16th and early 17th centuries, under the reign of Elizabeth I, England began to witness a resurgence in trade. On ascending to power, Elizabeth I restored coins back to an accurate value, restoring faith in England’s coins. However, it’s hard to overstate just how much the Great Debasement had affected trade relations and the way in which foreign merchants, and foreign countries viewed England’s coinage.
Coins from the reign of Elizabeth I
Image Credit: The Royal Mint
However, eventually the Elizabethan Era saw significant advancements in trade and commerce. England’s maritime exploration, including voyages led by explorers like Sir Francis Drake and Walter Raleigh, opened up new trade routes and expanded commercial opportunities. Additionally, the establishment of trading companies, such as the East India Company in 1600, further bolstered England’s trade endeavours, leading to economic growth and prosperity. This would not have happened should the Great Debasement have still been in effect.
]]>Here we take a look at The Royal Mint’s archive of Henry VIII’s ‘coppernose’ coins, and explore more about The Great Debasement and how its economic effects continued for many years.
The Great Debasement
The main aim of the policy was to increase revenue for the Crown at the cost of taxpayers through savings in currency production, with less bullion being required to mint new coins. This was achieved by reducing the amount of precious metal in gold and silver coins and, in some cases, replacing it almost entirely with cheaper base metals such as copper.
In May 1544, Henry VIII’s debased coins entered circulation and by July of the same year, foreign merchants had discovered the reduced value of the newly minted silver groats and begun offering a lower price for them. Non-debased coins with an accurate value were often hoarded which took them out of circulation and further exacerbated the problem of an inaccurate currency. This ruined the credibility of British merchants and of the crown itself.
‘Old Coppernose’
The thin layer of silver on Henry’s debased testoons had a tendency to wear off, particularly over the protruding nose of his portrait, revealing the copper colour underneath – earning Henry the nickname of ‘Old Coppernose’.
Coins from the reign of Henry VIII
What happened after The Great Debasement?
As a result of The Great Debasement, when Elizabeth I came to power in 1558, the poor quality of England’s coinage had greatly affected both confidence in the monarchy as well as the country’s trading relations. The Queen believed that these problems could be solved by restoring England’s coinage to its previously high standards.
In 1560, debased coinage began to be withdrawn from circulation and the withdrawn coins melted down and replaced with newly minted coins with an accurate value. This process was aided in 1561 by trials into producing coinage using machinery as a method to replace the crude system of hammer struck coins, and The Crown even made an estimated profit of £50,000. The success of the initiative and the restoration of the integrity of England’s coinage led to economic recovery and an expansion in trade.
Long-term effects of The Great Debasement
Elizabeth restored the coins back to an accurate value which restored faith in England’s coins, but it’s hard to overstate just how much The Great Debasement had affected trade relations and the way in which foreign merchants, and foreign countries viewed England’s coinage. To cover their backs, merchants would carry their own scales and weights to prove that their coins, and the coins they were trading with, were accurate.
]]>Henry VII’s reign, commencing in the tumultuous aftermath of the Wars of the Roses, was characterised by the urgent need for stability and legitimacy. Amidst the political turbulence, the gold sovereign emerged not merely as a means of trade but as a meticulously crafted tool of statecraft, bearing the weight of monarchic authority and projecting an image of prosperity and control.
Here we explore how and why Henry VII used English coinage to help convey his power across his kingdom.
Henry VII’s rise to power
After defeating his Yorkist adversary Richard III, last of the Plantagenets, at the Battle of Bosworth Field, Henry Tudor was officially crowned King Henry VII on 30 October 1485. His coronation heralded the end of the bloody Wars of the Roses and brought in a new line of monarchs, with Henry VII being the first of the Tudor dynasty.
Henry VII was the last king of England to win his throne on the battlefield, and his coronation brought much-needed peace to the country after three decades of conflict. With it came the end of the medieval period. Such a monumental achievement spelled an equally monumental shift in power and – much like the monarchs that came before him – Henry VII was keen to convey this power and establish his authority.
Currency and its conveyance of power
Henry did this in part through the currency of his kingdom. As well as reintroducing more realistic portraiture on English coinage, a practice that had not been seen consistently since the Romans, Henry VII also brought several new coins into the English currency, including the iconic gold Sovereign – the first £1 piece in English history. Introduced in 1489 when Henry VII demanded a ‘new money of gold’, whilst the gold Sovereign wasn’t the first gold coin to be struck, it was the largest and most valuable English coin ever issued at that point.
The original design featured an image depicting Henry VII sat on his throne – complete with a crown, orb and sceptre – whilst the reverse displayed the Royal Arms atop a backdrop dominated by the unmistakable Tudor rose. This new coin symbolised power, and reinforced Henry VII’s authority as a new monarch.
This Sovereign features a huge Tudor rose that covers the whole of one side (tails) of it – a symbol of Henry VII, his house and his reign. Everything about this coin is hugely symbolic, and all trying to solidify Henry VII’s power. On the head’s side of the coin is Henry himself, sat on the throne wearing all the royal regalia – including the crown and holding an orb and sceptre. Everything about this coin is trying to cement Henry’s power as the new king, which was particularly important given the country had been in civil war for the past 30 years.
Henry VII gold Sovereign, front and back
Image Credit: The Royal Mint
Henry VII’s impact on the exchequer
Indeed Henry VII’s reign was characterised by his success at restoring the power and stability of the English monarchy after the civil war, as well as his talent for replenishing the fortunes of an effectively bankrupt exchequer.
When Henry VII ascended the throne in 1485, he faced the immediate challenge of securing his reign – and the Tudor Dynasty – against political and economic rebellions. Recognising the pivotal role of revenue in establishing stability, he sought to finance a robust royal army.
Historically, the Crown had relied on the slow-moving Exchequer for its financial needs, and initially Henry reverted to using this. However, audits could take years to complete, meaning the Crown was always short of money. By 1487, Henry’s financial struggles prompted him to modernise royal income collection by appointing the King’s Chamber as the principal institution managing royal revenue.
This relatively new institution had previously been utilised by the Yorkist family, when Edward IV used it to run his finances. Whilst the Chamber lacked fully-established operating procedures, its comparatively more informal processes actually gave it greater flexibility. The Chamber went on to take charge of nearly all aspects of royal income, and effectively oversaw the national treasury, while the Privy Chamber handled Henry’s personal expenditure.
Henry was one of the few monarchs to process his own accounts, keeping meticulous records, and even counting bags of coins himself to scrutinise finances and balance the books. Henry ensured he appointed expert advisors with financial acumen, with two men, Sir Thomas Lovell and Sir John Heron, holding the post of Treasurer of the Chamber. However Henry also worked alongside both men, checking the accounts they had already gone over, and personally signing-off each page. Rather than this being a miserly act, Henry’s scrutiny reflected his focus on wealth accumulation for control, influence and power.
Bronze medallion of Sir Thomas Lovell in Henry VII Chapel, Westminster Abbey, 1911 – by Arthur Irwin Dasent.
Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons / Arthur Irwin Dasent / Public Domain
Henry VII’s tenure marked a departure from medieval financial systems, and he is credited with shaping the modern English Exchequer. As well as maximising tax revenue, Henry also gained wealth from an illicit trade in the dye-fixed alum, and benefitted from the peace facilitated by the end of the Wars of the Roses.
His resulting substantial wealth accumulation and financial prudence meant Henry was able to leave a considerable inheritance to his son and successor, Henry VIII. However, Henry VIII would not turn out to be as prudent.
]]>One of the most damaging repercussions of this was the often-brutal suppression of the monasteries. With 1-in-50 of England’s adult male population belonging to a religious order and monasteries owning around a quarter of all cultivated land in the country, the Dissolution of the Monasteries uprooted thousands of lives and changed the political and religious landscape of England forever.
So why did it happen?
Criticism of monastic houses had been growing
Long before Henry VIII‘s break with Rome the monastic houses of England had been under scrutiny, with stories of their lax religious conduct circulating the country’s elite spheres. Although there were vast monastic complexes in almost every town, most of them were only half-full, with those living there barely abiding by strict monastic rules.
The immense wealth of the monasteries also raised eyebrows in the secular world, who believed that their money may be better spent on England’s universities and parish churches, particularly as many spent exorbitantly inside the monasteries’ walls.
High up figures such as Cardinal Wolsey, Thomas Cromwell, and Henry VIII himself sought to limit the powers of the monastic church, and as early as 1519 Wolsey had been investigating corruption in a number of religious houses. In Peterborough Abbey for example, Wolsey found that its abbot had been keeping a mistress and selling goods for a profit and duly had it shut down, instead using the money to found a new college at Oxford.
This idea of corruption would become key in the dissolution when in 1535 Cromwell set about collecting ‘evidence’ of untoward activity within the monasteries. Though some believe these tales to be exaggerated, they included cases of prostitution, drunken monks, and runaway nuns – hardly the behaviour expected from those dedicated to celibacy and virtue.
Henry VIII broke with Rome and declared himself Supreme Head of the Church
The push towards more drastic reform was deeply personal however. In the Spring of 1526, having grown restless with waiting for a son and heir from Catherine of Aragon, Henry VIII set his sights on marrying the enamouring Anne Boleyn.
Boleyn had recently returned from the French royal court and was now a sparkling courtier, well-versed in the courtly game of love. As such, she refused to become the king’s mistress and would settle only for marriage, lest she be cast aside as her elder sister had been.
Driven by love and an intense anxiety to provide an heir, Henry set about petitioning the Pope to grant him an annulment from his marriage to Catherine in what became known as the ‘King’s Great Matter’.
A portrait of Henry VIII by Holbein thought to be from around 1536.
Image Credit: Public domain
Setting Cardinal Wolsey on the task, a number of challenging factors delayed the proceedings. In 1527, Pope Clement VII was virtually imprisoned by Holy Roman Emperor Charles V during the Sack of Rome, and following this was heavily under his influence. As Charles happened to be Catherine of Aragon’s nephew, he was unwilling to budge on the topic of divorce as not to bring shame and embarrassment to his family.
Eventually Henry realised he was fighting a losing battle and in February 1531, he declared himself Supreme Head of the Church of England, meaning he now had jurisdiction on what exactly happened to its religious houses. In 1553, he passed a law forbidding clerics to appeal to ‘foreign tribunals’ in Rome, severing their ties with the Catholic Church on the continent. The first step to the demise of the monasteries was set in motion.
He sought to destroy Papal influence in England
Now in charge of England’s religious landscape, Henry VIII set about ridding it of the Pope’s influence. In 1535, Thomas Cromwell was made Vicar General (Henry’s second in command) and sent letters to all the vicars in England, calling for their support of Henry as the Head of the Church.
Thomas Cromwell by Hans Holbein.
Image Credit: The Frick Collection / CC
Under intense threat, almost all of England’s religious houses agreed to this, with those who initially refused suffering heavy consequences. The friars from the Greenwich house were imprisoned where many died of maltreatment for example, while a number of the Carthusian monks were executed for high treason. Simple obedience was not enough for Henry VIII however, as the monasteries also had something he was desperately in need of – vast wealth.
He needed the immense wealth of the monasteries
After years of lavish spending and costly wars, Henry VIII had frittered away much of his inheritance – an inheritance painstakingly amassed by his frugal father Henry VII.
In 1534, a valuation of the Church was commissioned by Thomas Cromwell known as the Valor Ecclesiasticus, which demanded all religious establishments give authorities an accurate inventory of their lands and revenues. When this was completed, the Crown had for the first time a real image of the Church’s wealth, allowing Henry to set in motion a plan to repurpose their funds for his own use.
In 1536, all small religious houses with an annual income of less than £200 were ordered to be closed under the Act for the Dissolution of the Lesser Monasteries. Their gold, silver, and valuable materials were confiscated by the Crown and their lands sold off. This initial round of dissolutions made up around 30% of England’s monasteries, yet more were soon to follow.
Catholic revolt pushed further dissolutions
Opposition to Henry’s reforms were widespread in England, particularly in the north where many staunchly Catholic communities persevered. In October 1536, a large uprising known as the Pilgrimage of Grace took place in Yorkshire, in which thousands marched into the city of York to demand a return to the ‘true religion’.
This was soon crushed, and though the king promised clemency for those involved, over 200 were executed for their roles in the unrest. Afterwards, Henry came to view monasticism as synonymous with treachery, as many of the religious houses he had spared in the north had participated in the uprising.
The Pilgrimage of Grace, York.
Image Credit: Public domain
The following year, inducements to the larger abbeys began, with hundreds forfeiting their deeds to the king and signing a document of surrender. In 1539, the Act for the Dissolution of the Greater Monasteries was passed, forcing the remaining bodies to close – this was not without bloodshed however.
When the last abbot of Glastonbury, Richard Whiting, refused to relinquish his abbey, he was hung drawn and quartered and his head displayed over the gate of his now-deserted religious house.
In total around 800 religious institutions were closed in England, Wales, and Ireland, with many of their precious monastic libraries destroyed in the process. The final abbey, Waltham, closed its doors on 23 March 1540.
His allies were rewarded
With the monasteries suppressed, Henry now had vast amounts of wealth and masses of land. This he sold off to nobles and merchants loyal to his cause as a reward for their service, who in turn sold it off to others and became increasingly wealthy.
Not only did this strengthen their loyalties, but also built a wealthy circle of Protestant-leaning nobles around the Crown – something that would become vital in instilling England as a Protestant country. During the reigns of Henry VIII’s children and beyond however, these factions would grow into conflict as the successive monarch’s adapted their own faiths to that of their regime.
With the ruins of hundreds of abbeys still littering England’s landscape – Whitby, Rievaulx and Fountains to name a few – it is hard to escape the memory of the thriving communities that once occupied them. Now mostly atmospheric shells, they sit as a reminder of monastic Britain and the most blatant consequences of the Protestant Reformation.
]]>Propelled into popular consciousness by Hilary Mantel’s novel Wolf Hall, interest in Cromwell has never been greater.
Here are 10 facts about the son of a blacksmith who went on to become one of the most powerful people in 16th-century England.
1. He was the son of a Putney blacksmith
Cromwell was born around 1485 (the precise date is uncertain), the son of a successful blacksmith and merchant, Walter Cromwell. Not much is known for certain about his education or early years, other than that he travelled in mainland Europe.
His own accounts of the period suggest that he may, briefly, have been a mercenary, but he certainly served in the household of the Florentine banker Francesco Frescobaldi, learnt several languages and developed an extensive network of influential European contacts.
2. He originally set himself up as a merchant
On his return to England, somewhere around 1512, Cromwell set himself up as a merchant in London. Years of building contacts and learning from merchants on the continent had given him a good head for business.
However, this didn’t satisfy him. He began to practice law and was elected a member of Gray’s Inn, one of London’s four Inns of Court, in 1524.
3. He rose to prominence under Cardinal Wolsey
First serving as an adviser to Thomas Grey, Marquess of Dorset, Cromwell’s brilliance was noted by Cardinal Wolsey, at that point Henry VIII’s Lord Chancellor and trusted adviser.
In 1524, Cromwell became a member of Wolsey’s household and after years of dedicated service, Cromwell was appointed as a member of Wolsey’s council in 1529, meaning he was one of the cardinal’s most trusted advisors: Cromwell had helped dissolve over 30 small monasteries to pay for some of Wolsey’s bigger building projects.
Cardinal Thomas Wolsey by an unknown artist, c. late 16th century.
Image Credit: Public Domain
4. His talent was noticed by the King
Wolsey fell from favour in 1529, when he was unable to obtain Henry a divorce from Catherine of Aragon. This failure meant Henry VIII began to reappraise Wolsey’s position, in turn noticing exactly how much wealth and power the cardinal had accumulated for himself during his service.
Cromwell successfully rose from the embers of Wolsey’s downfall. His eloquence, wit and loyalty impressed Henry, and as a lawyer, Cromwell and his talents were much in need in Henry’s divorce proceedings.
Cromwell began to direct his attention towards the ‘King’s Great Matter’, winning the admiration and support of both Henry and Anne Boleyn in the process.
5. His wife and daughters died of the sweating sickness
In 1515, Cromwell married a woman named Elizabeth Wyckes, and the pair had three children: Gregory, Anne and Grace.
Elizabeth, along with daughters Anne and Grace, all died during an outbreak of the sweating sickness in 1529. No one is quite sure what caused the sweating sickness, but it was highly contagious and often deadly. Symptoms, including shivering, sweating, dizziness and exhaustion, would come on rapidly and the illness normally lasted 24 hours, after which a victim would either recover or die.
Gregory, Cromwell’s son, went on to marry Elizabeth Seymour in 1537. At the time, Elizabeth’s sister Jane was Queen of England: Cromwell was ensuring his family was allied with the powerful and influential Seymours.
6. He was a champion of royal supremacy and the break with Rome
It quickly became apparent to Cromwell that the Pope was never going to permit Henry the annulment he desired. Instead of pursuing a dead-end, Cromwell began to advocate for the principles of royal supremacy over the church.
Encouraged by Cromwell and Anne Boleyn, Henry decided that he would break with Rome and establish his own Protestant church in England. In 1533, he secretly married Anne Boleyn and annulled his marriage to Catherine of Aragon.
7. He amassed a substantial fortune
Both Henry and Anne were extremely grateful to Cromwell: they rewarded him very generously for his services, granting him the offices of Master of the Jewels, Clerk of the Hanaper and Chancellor of the Exchequer, which meant he had positions in the 3 major institutions of government.
In 1534, Cromwell was confirmed as Henry’s principal secretary and chief minister – roles he had held in all but name for several years. This was arguably the zenith of Cromwell’s power. He continued to make money through various private ventures too, and by 1537 he had an annual income of around £12,000 – the equivalent to around £3.5 million today.
A miniature of Cromwell, painted after the Holbein portrait, c. 1537.
8. He orchestrated the Dissolution of the Monasteries
The Dissolution of the Monasteries began as a result of the 1534 Act of Supremacy. During this period, Cromwell spearheaded the efforts to dissolve and expropriate religious houses across England, enriching royal coffers in the process and further cementing his role as Henry’s invaluable right-hand man.
Cromwell’s personal religious beliefs are unclear, but his ongoing attacks on the ‘idolatry’ of the Catholic church and attempts to clarify and enforce new religious doctrine suggest he at least had Protestant sympathies.
9. He played a key role in Anne Boleyn’s downfall
Whilst Cromwell and Anne had originally been allies, their relationship was not to last. Following a dispute over where the proceeds of the dissolution of the lesser monasteries should go, Anne had her chaplains publicly denounce Cromwell and other privy councillors in their sermons.
Anne’s position at court was already precarious: her failure to deliver a male heir and fiery temper had frustrated Henry and he had his eyes on Jane Seymour as a prospective future bride. Anne was accused of adultery with various men from the royal household. She was later tried, found guilty and condemned to death.
Historians debate exactly how and why Anne fell so swiftly: some argue it was personal animosity which spurred Cromwell on in his investigations and evidence collection, whilst others think he was more likely to be acting on Henry’s orders. Either way, it was Cromwell’s forensic and single-minded investigations which proved fatal to Anne.
10. Henry VIII’s fourth marriage hastened Cromwell’s dramatic fall from grace
Cromwell maintained his position at court for several more years, and if anything, was stronger and more secure than ever following Anne’s demise. He orchestrated Henry’s fourth marriage to Anne of Cleves, arguing the match would provide a much-needed Protestant alliance.
However, Henry was less than pleased with the match, supposedly dubbing her the ‘Flanders Mare’. Exactly how much blame Henry laid at Cromwell’s feet is unclear given he made him Earl of Essex shortly afterwards.
Cromwell’s enemies, of which he had many by this point, took advantage of Cromwell’s momentary lack of favour. They convinced Henry to have Cromwell arrested in June 1540, saying they had heard rumours Cromwell was plotting Henry’s downfall in an act of treason.
By this point, the ageing and increasingly paranoid Henry required little persuading to have any hint of treason crushed. Cromwell was arrested and charged with a long list of crimes. He was condemned to death without trial, and beheaded less than 2 months later, on 28 July 1540.
]]>Fighting from an early age
Born in Devon in 1554, (or possibly 1552) Raleigh’s adventuring began early when he volunteered to fight with the Protestant Huguenots in a religious civil war in France at the tender age of 15.
He returned a few years later, and after spurning an Oxford degree he went overseas once again, this time to Ireland. Here he fought once again, and started his long and bitter relationship with the Spanish when he was part of a group ordered to massacre a group of their soldiers who were assisting the Irish rebels at the siege of Smerwick.
After the fighting, this young soldier became a rich landowner in Munster, where he met the English poet Edmund Spenser. After Spenser composed the Faerie Queene in honour of Elizabeth I, the two men headed to her court in London, where it was performed. Here Raleigh met his future patron, the Virgin Queen, who found him rather enthralling.
An 18th century print of Sir Walter Raleigh.
From firm favourite to the tower: Raleigh’s complicated relationship with Elizabeth I
At Elizabeth’s court Raleigh must have made much of his abilities and ambitions as an explorer, for he was given the royal mandate to explore the ‘New World’ in 1584, as well as permission to take some of the profits from his ventures for himself. He had previously sailed to America in 1578 with his half-brother Humphrey Gilbert, a famous explorer of the time, and developed an interest in this exciting new continent.
Raleigh is perhaps best remembered for bringing tobacco and the potato back to England, and did much to make smoking fashionable at court after this trip. Under his supervision, the two attempts to plant the first English colonies in America, at Roanoke, were carried out. The settlers, however, would ultimately disappear without a trace after a promising start.
Despite this disaster Raleigh remained a firm favourite of the Queen until 1592, when she found out that he’d been having an illicit affair with one of her maids of honour, Elizabeth Throckmorton, who he had then married in secret.
Thrown into a jealous rage, the famously capricious Elizabeth threw Raleigh and his new wife into the Tower of London. Her old favourite managed to get himself released by promising to lead an piratical expedition to the Spanish coast, and he returned with an incredibly rich prize of a Spanish trade ship returned from South America before being unceremoniously dumped back in the Tower.
There is a popular story that when Raleigh’s servant first saw him smoking he doused him with water, believing that his master was on fire.
Image Credit: Frederick William Fairholt / Public Domain
After a while, Elizabeth relented, and despite still being out of favour Raleigh was released from the Tower and later elected a Member of Parliament. Emboldened by this rise in his fortunes he decided to act upon a captured Spanish manuscript describing a legendary city of gold in the New World; El Dorado.
His expedition to South America in 1594 – predictably enough – failed to find any gold, but when he returned Raleigh published a book of his experiences called The Discovery of Guiana, which did much to enhance his growing celebrity.
Over the next few years Raleigh’s adventures continued as he was wounded capturing the Spanish city of Cadiz, lead an expedition to the Azores and helped defeat the lesser-known third Spanish Armada in 1597. A national hero and restored to Elizabeth’s favour, everything was falling into his lap until 1603, when the queen whose rule had come to define an age, suddenly died.
Raleigh returns to the tower
Her successor, James I, was less inclined to reward handsome explorers and he and Raleigh certainly got it off on the wrong foot. The hero of Cadiz was implicated in a plot that year to overthrow James and replace him with his cousin and imprisoned in the Tower of London for 13 years. There Raleigh mused on past glories and took to writing, composing a well-regarded history of ancient Greece and Rome during his long stay.
Suddenly and unexpectedly in 1617 he was pardoned by the King, and given permission to lead a second expedition to find El Dorado. During this expedition, just as fruitless as the first, a detachment of Raleigh’s men attacked a Spanish outpost without having been given orders to do so, and in the confused fighting Raleigh’s son Walter was killed. And worse was to come.
England was now at peace with Spain, and when James was informed of this incident by the Spanish ambassador he held he now aged explorer responsible. With his friends in high places now long-gone Raleigh was lead to the block on 29 October 1618. A still-popular and beloved son of England, one of the judges at his less than fair trial later said:
]]>“The justice of England has never been so degraded and injured as by the condemnation of the honourable Sir Walter Raleigh.”
1. Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury
Margaret Pole was the niece of Richard III – who Henry VII had slain at the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485. Until her dying day, Margaret asserted her Yorkist allegiance and become a focus for rebellion. She was considered such as threat that Henry VIII ordered her execution in 1541.
Margaret Pole; Elizabeth of York; Margaret Tudor
2. Elizabeth of York
Elizabeth was the daughter of King Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville, who were leaders of the Yorkist cause. Her brothers were the ‘Princes in the Tower’.
The marriage between Elizabeth of York and Henry Tudor marked a union between the Houses of York and Lancaster, and the red and white Tudor rose was born. Elizabeth and Henry had eight children, who, through marriage, became monarchs of England, Scotland and France.
3. Margaret Tudor, Queen of Scots
The eldest daughter of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York, Margaret was the sister of Henry VIII. She was married to James IV of Scotland from 1503-1513, which united the royal houses of England and Scotland. After her husband’s death, Margaret acted as regent for her son James V, from 1513-1515.
4. Catherine of Aragon
Catherine ruled as Queen of England from June 1509 until May 1533. She was the daughter of Isabella I of Castile and Ferdinand II of Aragon.
At three years old she was betrothed to Arthur, Prince of Wales, who was heir apparent to the English throne. After Arthur’s death, Catherine was married to his younger brother Henry, who grew increasingly frustrated after she failed to deliver a male heir.
Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn
Image Credit: History Hit
For six months in 1513, she served as regent of England as Henry was abroad in France. Her rousing speech about emotional courage seemed to be an important factor in the English victory at the Battle of Flodden. She was also a prominent humanist, and counted scholars such as Erasmus of Rotterdam and Thomas More as her friends.
5. Elizabeth Blount
‘Bessie’ Blount was a mistress of Henry VIII. On 15 June 1519, Blount bore the king what he had always craved – a son. Henry Fitzroy, the only illegitimate son of Henry VIII, was later Duke of Richmond and Somerset and Earl of Nottingham.
6. Anne Boleyn
The second and perhaps most infamous wife of Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn was Queen of England from 1533 to 1536, when she was executed.
Henry first caught eyes on her when she served Catherine of Aragon as a maid of honour. To accommodate a marriage to Anne and divorce Catherine, Henry had no choice but to leave the Catholic Church and establish the Church of England. Anne was the mother of Elizabeth I.
7. Catherine Parr
Catherine had four husbands, the third of which was Henry VIII who she outlived by a year. She enjoyed a close relationship with Henry’s three children, taking personal interest in their education and playing an important role in the Third Succession Act, which restored Mary and Elizabeth to the line of succession.
Catherine Parr; Lady Jane Grey; Mary I
Image Credit: History Hit
After Henry’s death, Catherine acted as queen dowager and was allowed to keep royal jewels and dresses.
8. Lady Jane Grey
Jane was the great-granddaughter of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York, through their daughter Mary, who became Queen of France.
She was exceptionally well educated in humanist studies, and as a committed Protestant, Edward VI saw her as an ally. In 1553, Edward’s will placed Jane in line to inherit the throne, effectively removing his half-sisters Mary and Elizabeth from the line of succession and ignoring the Third Succession Act.
Jane was proclaimed queen on 10 July 1553 but support quickly waned and the Privy Council abandoned her. Lasting just over a week, she became known as the ‘Nine Days Queen’. Although Mary initially spared her life, she became viewed as a threat to the Crown, and was executed the following year.
9. Mary I
Mary was the eldest child of Henry VIII to survive to adulthood. As the daughter of Catherine of Aragon, she was a staunch Catholic. After expelling Lady Jane Grey to regain her place on the throne, Mary attempted to reverse the English Reformation begun by her father and restore Roman Catholicism.
The executions of Protestants earned her the nickname ‘Bloody Mary’. She was married to Phillip of Spain.
10. Elizabeth I
Elizabeth was the final monarch of the Tudor dynasty, ruling from 1558-1603. She depended heavily on a group of advisers led by William Cecil. Together they established a middle way in the religious debates, as Elizabeth became the Supreme Governor of the English Protestant church, but insisted on greater tolerance of English Catholics.
Elizabeth I; Bess of Hardwick; Mary, Queen of Scots
Image Credit: History Hit
Elizabeth never married and she became referred to as the ‘Virgin Queen’. Her 44 year reign was marked by England’s defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588 and a flowering of English drama, led by playwrights Christopher Marlowe and William Shakespeare.
11. Bess of Hardwick
Born into a modest background, Bess married four times and acquired an enormous fortune to become the second most important woman in England, after the queen. She is famed for building Hardwick Hall, which gave rise to the rhyme ‘Hardwick Hall, more glass than wall’.
12. Mary, Queen of Scots
Mary reigned over Scotland from 1542 to 1567. She was the only surviving legitimate child of King James V of Scotland, who died when Mary was six days old. She married Francis, the Dauphin of France, and later her half-cousin, Lord Darnley.
Their son, James, would become James I of England, uniting the two kingdoms. She was executed by her cousin, Elizabeth I, in 1587 at Fotheringhay Castle.
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The game of football goes back centuries. You’ve no doubt heard stories of people playing with a ball made from an inflated pig’s bladder, but what was the purpose that early modern football served in society – a form of leisure or something more?
Who played it, where it was played, and what were the rules people played by (or didn’t)? Here we explore the development of early modern football.
Earliest reliable references to ‘football’
Some of the earliest reliable references to a game called ‘football’ come from the 14th century.
The first time that ‘football’ is referenced is in a proclamation by King Edward II in 1314, prohibiting the game in order to preserve peace. Our first reliable reference to football, in other words, is it being banned. The King was bound for war with Scotland and commanded there be no ‘great uproar’ in London ‘through certain tumult arising from great footballs in the fields of the public’.
Then later, in 1365, during the reign of Edward III, an order was given that on feast days men had to ‘use bows and arrows’ and not ‘under pain of imprisonment to meddle … in football.’
No written rules
Unfortunately, no written rules survive for the game of early modern football in the 16th century and there were also no central organisations responsible for football. Nonetheless, documents refer to playing ‘with a football’ and ‘playing football’, typically involving an inflated pig’s bladder that was sometimes encased in leather, and was quite plausibly carried as well as kicked.
At the heart of the game was a struggle between different groups who could be people from different villages, trades, or just one village split into two teams. Based on evidence from court cases against people who broke the law by playing football, there was no upper limit on the number of people in a team, and sides did not have to be equal in number.
Football was not regarded as a game for nobility and there isn’t evidence that women played football… but then nor is there evidence they didn’t.
The playing area could be vast, covering an area of some 3 to 4 miles, across and through fields. With such distances involved, it is unlikely there were goals or goalkeepers. Instead, it is more likely the players attempted to reach a certain base – perhaps more like a try line in rugby – such as gentlemen’s houses, balconies of churches, or a distant village.
Government edicts against ball-games
Roughly every 15 years between 1314-1615 (and sometimes as often as every 3 years), the government issued an edict against ball-games, including football. Sometimes the edict made clear the authorities resented that men were being drawn to play football instead of performing their military training in archery.
Every man was expected to practice archery on a Sunday in medieval and Tudor England, ready to be called to arms if ever the monarch commanded – and this rule was still in operation in Elizabethan London.
Edicts also made specific reference to the disorder football created.
Football was wild
Evidence of games such as in Manchester in 1608 and 1609, show how great harm could be done by playing football in the streets.
Coroners’ reports also show that football was rough – players could be tackled whether they had the ball or not. An account written in 1602 explained that ‘hurling’ (a Cornish name given to football) involved a tackle that was basically a punch. If the player with the ball wasn’t stopped, he could be butted by another (and he himself butt others) until he with the ball touched the ground with some part of his body, or cried ‘Hold’, at which point the ball had to be thrown, ideally to a fellow player.
Football’s very nature was violent and could even cause death, as made clear in Coroners’ reports. The many accounts of violence erupting during football matches help to explain why authorities were so worried by it.
Why did early modern football matches involve vicious behaviour?
One theory is that footballing fights were not accidental brawls, but a sort of equilibrating type of leisure. There is evidence that on some Saints and Holy days, villages would arrange fights as entertainment, allowing people to express hostility and release tensions. In this way, early modern football was a form of letting off steam.
Violence erupted when people playing broke the rules, and can also be attributed to the desire to win. Although many sources report violence, we only have evidence of the matches that went wrong. It’s possible that many – perhaps most – matches did not break into violence at all, and therefore left no record in court books or coroners’ reports.
The game was certainly part of the fabric of society. Of all the saints’ day and holy days when football was played, the Shrovetide Football match in particular became a ritual. Played annually on Shrove Tuesday in England, the match took local forms – in Chester, the shoemakers challenged the drapers; in Derby, different towns played each other.
A football game between Thames and Townsend clubs, played at Kingston upon Thames, London, 1846. This picture gives some idea of the chaotic nature of early football – where entire villages often took part.
Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain
What did monarchs make of the game?
On the surface, monarchs disapproved strongly. Henry VII passed a proclamation against football in 1496, and Henry VIII passed one in 1540. In both instances, king and country were under threat, and the Henrys didn’t want able-bodied men – who could fight for them in war – squandering themselves in a mere game.
But there is evidence Henry VIII did actually play himself. Research discovered that Henry commissioned a pair of shoes for playing football in 1526, aged 35. It appears that these were to be used in a Shrovetide Match, most likely played with a group of young men at Henry’s court.
The world’s oldest football was found at Stirling Castle, suggesting Scotland’s royals also enjoyed the game. The ball must have been kicked high, because at some time in the 1540s, as it lodged in the rafters of the Queen’s Chamber during James V’s reconstruction of the castle between 1537-1542. James’ daughter Mary Queen of Scots was also known to have an interest in football, recording a game of it in her diaries while at Carlisle Castle.
James VI of Scotland and I of England wrote approvingly of ‘faire and pleasant field-games’ and when he became king, he made a speech supporting ‘honest recreation’. In 1618 he issued The King’s Declaration to His Subjects Concerning Lawful Sports to be used, condemning Puritan attempts to ban sports, and ordering most sports to be continued in parishes on Sundays and holy days.
Many were ‘scandalised’ by the license the king had given to Sunday recreations, yet James’s son, King Charles I, issued a version of The King’s Declaration (the Book of Sports) going one step further by insisting clergymen read out the Book in every parish church. Many Puritan ministers refused.
The impact of the Civil War
The coming of the Civil War saw significant changes. In September 1641, the Commons ordered that all sports on Sundays be stopped and, in May 1643, that the Book of Sports be burned. Sport thus became highly politicised: Puritans argued that those for the Book of Sports were against parliament.
The Civil War and Interregnum saw, in theory, the banning of all revelry and games, and it was only from the Restoration that people could officially freely play football again.
]]>Known to most English speakers as simply, “Anne of Cleves”, the twenty-four-year-old woman managed to wed Henry VIII of England as his fourth wife, see their marriage annulled, and receive a handsome settlement from Henry, all within seven months of her arrival.
After the annulment, Anna was elevated to the position of the king’s sister, second only to his immediate family members.
Early Life
Born 28 June 1515 according to German primary sources, the young duchess received a very practical education. She learned the basics of running a large household, cooking, making and mending clothes, and how to read and write German. Given her family’s strong ties to the Burgundian court, Anna may have learned a little Burgundian French. She likely had a passing familiarity with the Latin used during mass or in a book of hours.
Anna, her parents, and her brother Wilhelm were Catholics their entire lives. Her older sister Sybylla and younger sister Amalia were the only family members who openly converted to Lutheranism.
Marriage
At Anna and Henry’s first encounter on 1 January 1540, they got along famously. English records created for the annulment of Anna’s marriage talk about how Henry was not attracted to Anna.
The German sources, created a mere few days after Anna’s first meeting and marriage to Henry, talk of how well the two seemed to get along. Henry even gave Anna a gilded crystal goblet, encrusted with diamonds and rubies. They socialized late into the evening.
Anne of Cleves by Wencelas Hollar
A political pawn
Henry came back the next morning to enjoy his breakfast with his new bride. Unfortunately, their marriage was effectively over before it began because of the machinations of Anna’s younger brother, Duke Wilhelm V of Cleves.
Wilhelm was in a simmering fight with Holy Roman Emperor Charles V over the Duchy of Guelders. Wilhelm could already count the powerful Elector of Saxony as a brother-in-law. To strengthen Wilhelm’s military might even more, he gladly married Anna to Henry. While Anna was on her way to England, Wilhelm was secretly in talks with Francis I of France, too.
Anna delayed writing to Wilhelm for as long as possible. She was effectively trapped in England as a political refugee due to the conflict between Wilhelm and Charles V. Henry adopted Anna as his sister, and granted her several properties so she could maintain herself. Anna quietly slipped away from court for the remainder of 1540.
The King’s Sister
When she finally came back for New Year’s 1541, Anna was poised and charming. She accepted her replacement, the young Catherine Howard, well.
After Catherine’s downfall later that year, and continuing on until Henry married Catherine Parr in July 1543, there was serious chatter that Anna and Henry might remarry. Fresh evidence was brought back from Germany that Anna was free to marry. Anna’s brother Wilhelm, who would start the Cleves War with the Emperor in Spring 1543, was anxious to have Henry as an ally again. Anna, for her part, kept her nose out of politics.
Life after Henry
After Henry’s death in 1547, Anna was treated quite poorly by her one-time stepson Edward, who never developed a relationship with her. Anna’s fortunes changed for the better when her eldest stepdaughter, Mary I, became queen in July 1553. Mary was a mere 8 months younger than Anna, and there is reason to believe the two were friends.
During the Catholic Mary’s correspondence with Anna’s Catholic brother Wilhelm, Mary repeatedly referred to Anna as her, “dear sister and cousin”. Even when Anna was implicated in the Wyatt Rebellion, she still got away with a slap on the wrist. It is likely that the rumors which wrapped up Anna in the Wyatt Rebellion were simply that, and Mary was clever enough to see right through them.
Mary Tudor by Antonis Mor (1554). Image credit: CC
When Anna died in July 1557, she asked Mary to bury her wherever Mary thought suitable. Mary chose the south side of the high altar in Westminster Abbey, although Anna’s tomb is usually not pointed out. A much grander tomb for Anna was planned, but never came to fruition.
Mary had the unenviable task of writing to Wilhelm (and, vicariously, to Anna’s younger sister Amalia) to inform Wilhelm of Anna’s death and disposition. Anna’s final gifts to Wilhelm and Amalia were sent to them with the help of Mary, as well.
Anna, a victim of her brother’s political ambition, was well-regarded in her adopted country of England. Though there were some remarks about her seemingly curious behavior, it turns out the behavior was not curious at all: it was simply German. Anna clearly had a friendship with Mary I, and likely had one with Elizabeth I.
Anna’s father adopted religious tolerance in Jülich-Cleves-Berg in the 1520s and 1530s; Elizabeth I did something similar. Anna’s time in England left its mark, and she remains an interesting, enigmatic, important part of both English and German history to this day.
Heather Darsie is studying for her Master’s in Early Modern History through Northern Illinois University, focusing on the history of the Holy Roman Empire under Charles V. Her language training in German, French and Spanish has been indispensable writing about Anna von der Mark, Hereditary Duchess of Cleves and Anna’s family. Her book Anna, Duchess of Cleves: The King’s ‘Beloved Sister’ is published by Amberley books.
