Category Archives: History

Books Women's history

Between the Black Death and the Reformation – women and the church

I’ve been reading in the odd spare moment The Good Women of the Parish: Gender and Religion After the Black Death, Katherine L French, Uni of Penn Press, 2008. It is delightfully lively for a serious academic text; there is a thesis and theory, but the book wears this lightly and recovers from church records and accounts snippets that give an insight into the lives of women in this difficult age.

In post-plague England as many as a third of women never married, and there was a preoccupation with controlling independent and mobile women, French finds. Studies on women and religion in this period have tended to focus on nuns and the elite, but at the local level churchgoing, and church activities, played a central role in women’s lives. Parochial activities were designed to promote lay support for the parish, but in their frequent gender segregation, women adapting their housekeeping roles and behaviours in the service of the parish, which fostered collective action and expanded their opportunities.

There’s not of course in this era the sort of spiritual diaries that start to occur, from relatively modest places on the social scale, after the Reformation, so French has to find hints, suggestions and draw conclusions from rather drier records. But her conclusions were, to this reader, solid.

So, she says, when in Tintinhull Somerset in 1449 and again in 1452, when the group of women who would have been paid six pennies for laundering the church linens declined payment, chosing instead to donate their labour, they were expressing not just devotion, but probably also drawing considerable satisfaction for doing so. (That would probably have been something like a week’s wages.) When in Bassingbourne, Cambridgeshire, the parish produced a St Margaret’s play to raise money for a new statue of St George, many women donated their brewing and baking labour for the refreshments.
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Arts History

Italian maiolica (majolica)

Since I’ve restarted doing handling in the British Museum Enlightenment Gallery, I’ve been brushing up on some of the pieces with which I’m less familiar, so reading Italian Maiolica by Timothy Wilson, 1989 (actually a catalogue of the Ashmolean’s rather fine collection).

I’m not greatly into later ceramics, but there’s something rather magical about these, particularly the earlier (late 13th, 14th and early 15th century), which manage to combine a medieval sensibility with a growing artistic sophistication. They actually get much less interesting, in my view, when they start to copy Italian woodcut prints of the period – after which they are merely derivative (although this is usually regarded as the high period of the art.)

The method of covering earthenware with a glaze made opaque with oxide and then painting on the glaze was introduced from the Islamic world about 1200. Originally only copper green and purple or brown from manganese were used for the images. Full details are (unusually) preserved in a manuscript treatise written about 1557 by Cipriano Piccolpasso of Castel Durante, Three Books of the Potter’s Art.

Dishes were thrown on a wheel or pressed into moulds, then fired at about 1000C before being dipped in a glaze made chiefly of potash (from burning the lees from wine barrels), sand and the oxides of lead and tin. Later other pigments for the images were added: cobalt (blue), yellow (antimony), orange (antimony and iron), and white (tin). Sometimes a transparent glaze was painted over the top and the piece fired again at a higher temperature.

The only image on the Ashmolean site is not quite typical, although there is something medieval about it, “Maiolica plate painted with a head composed of penises”.

And reading around the subject, I find that the memory of some Italian women has, however imperfectly, been preserved in some of these dishes – the belle donne.

And I also learn of the clearly named Potweb scheme, by which the Ashmolean is putting its entire collection on line, unfortunately not yet the “spouted bowl”, Orvieto, late13th or 14th century, or the “Dish, a huntsman blowing his horn, deruta, c. 1500″… hint, hint, should anyone relevant be reading this….

History

My famous ancestor (well maybe)

Received from my grandmother is an article from Australian Geographic (October 2007) containing an article about Australia’s “little Cornwall, the Yorke Peninsula, South Australia”. It reports that just before Christmas in 1859, James Boor, a shepherd, was at work when he saw green-tinged dirt, which as a Cornishman he knew was a sign of copper. By 1876 the biggest mine in the area had paid £1m (more than £100m today) in dividends.

The story goes that James was my grandmother’s great, great, great grandfather on her father’s side.

Further evidence: “My mother made great pasties.”

Women's history

Handwriting as high politics: Esther Ingles

The story of Esther Ingles is one of those that may never fully emerge from the mist of history – in part because her particularly skill, astonishingly neat, tiny handwriting is not a form that has real respect in the present day, but even more so if Tricia Bracher is right and her involvement in the messy politics of the end of the reign of Elizabeth I was so close.

The writer, in a chapter titled “Esther Ingles and the English Succession Crisis of 1599”, in the text detailed below (pp. 132-146) suggests that the book of psalms she had written which were carried from Scotland by her husband, Bartholomew Kello from the Scottish court to London was part of efforts to “promote a secret or not-so-secret alliance” between James VI of Scotland and the Essex faction of the English court.

From Women and Politics in Early Modern England, 1450-1700, James Daybell (ed) Ashgate 2004. (Other women covered include Lady Mary Sidney and Kat Ashley, Lady Ralegh, Elizabeth Talbot, countess of Shrewsbury (Bess of Hardwick”), Anne of Denmark, Mary Carleton and Aphra Behn.

History Politics

Who are you calling a mob?

From the delights of the London Library, I’ve been reading The Street as Stage: Protest Marchs and Public Rallies since the Nineteenth Century edited by Matthias Reiss (Oxford 2007). It draws on a number of disciplines – history of course, but also social psychologists (interested in “the crowd” long before historians, historical geography and sociologists. It claims the march as initially a 19th-century Western phenomenon, one that travelled the world in the 20th.

It says that there’s nothing very new in the internationalised anti-globalisation movement – the Hambach Festival of 1832, seen as a key starting point, saw the involvement of marchers from all over the German states, as well as Poland, France and Britain. Cazech nationalists in Bohemia in the 1860s and 1870s modelled their mass meetings on the Irish efforts of the 1840s – even (almost) adopting the English word “meetingy”.

The suffragist tradition of marches – with particular iconography and symbols, started in Britain but spread around the world. Since women involved in public protest was considered particularly non-respectable, associated with mob rule, revolution, and invasion of “male” space, they were particularly keen to march in formation, sometimes in almost military style, to stress order and even social class in the arrangement of participants.

“The crowd” was often pathologised, and victimised by the state, which often worked out in the demonstrators’ favour. Police violence against the British Hunger Marchers of 1932 and the arrest of two of their leaders under a 600-year-old law led to the creation of the Council for Civil Liberties.

The survey of the shitory of the discipline of crowd psychology I found particularly interesting: Its founder on this account was Gustave Le Bon, whose The Crowd was published in 1895, arguing that within the anonymity of the crowd, people lose their individual identity and hence their capacity for reason and judgement, making them incapable of resisting any passing idea or, especially, emotion. The impulses that will take hold are primitive and violent. (His aim was to turn this passion from radicalism to nationalism.)

Reicher and Stott in this chapter write:
“Today… there remain many who share his assumptions without realising the consequences. Most fundamentally, Le Bon’s decontextualisation of the crowd is underpinned by a desocializd characterization of the human self. Thus, an individual identity is characterized as the sole basis of controlled action. The operaion of this identity may be affected by social factors … however the identity itself is sovereign and independent of society… Crowds can act only randomly and crowd action must be meaningless.” (p.28-9)

Yet the authors say, in everything from food riots to the barbarism of St Bartholomew’s Day in France in 1572, crowds act within ways that are “logical” – food is only seized from merchants and sources perceived to have broken “fair” rules; the methods of killing on the Day drew on the respective Catholic and Protestant theologies of heresy – the crowds behaved in ways they saw as right and proper.

Presented as an alternative to Le Bon is the idea of social identity, wchih “envisages a complex system of identity and a shift to a different level of identity in the group… we all have multiple social identities corresponding to the different social categories with which we identify.”

The writers suggest that to be the leader of a crowd, it is necessary to first convince people that he or she is typical of the group and hence able to interpret their social identity, or even better prototypical – “entrepeneurs of identity”. Both crowd and “leader” are determining the meaning of a common “we”. Both are actors.

And they note that while the focus tends to be on crowds that contribute to historical change, they also contribute to historical continuity (coronation, jubilee etc).

The chapter on suffrage marches notes that in addition to publicizing the cause, the suffragists were moulded into a collectivity by their participation.

Women's history

More on the bluestockings

Celebrating the Brilliant Women exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery, the Oxford Dictionary of Biography is providing for free a collection of their biographies.