Summer 2010 Research Project
a) Sidney-Shakespeare Tour - Part 1 - Shropshire, Hereford and Warwickshire
(August 23-26 2010)
b) Sidney-Shakespeare Tour - Part 11 - Padua and Venice Italy
(September 23-30 2010)
c) Sidney- Shakespeare Tour - Part 111- Penshurst Place, Kent
(10 October 2010)
Part 1
Sidney-Shakespeare Tour - Shropshire, Hereford and Warwickshire
August 23-26 2010
During August 2010, I was undertaking research into the Sidney family in the Marches of Wales and other sites linked to William Shakespeare. But I calculated that a Sidney-Shakespeare tour in England, would cost a prohibitive 600 pounds (for two people staying at hotels or quality B&Bs and eating out). So we decided to see how economically it could be done by camping and self-catering, completely. As existing “National Trust” and “English Heritage” members, our 4 day holiday cost us 125pds. This was truly a healthy holiday, fit for a “credit crunch”!
Day One
We headed through atrocious rainy driving conditions which reduced visibility to about 3 metres on the motorway, to Charlecote Park (National Trust), four miles from Stratford-on-Avon. This fine estate was seat of the Lucy family, well known to William Shakespeare. He mentions the Lucy family in his history plays and in “Merry Wives of Windsor”, referring to their Lucy coat of arms (their “luces”). The story is that Shakespeare may have been banished from Stratford, for deer stealing in Charlecote Park. Since in 1580, their Park extended almost all the way to Birmingham, this might be true. If Shakespeare did poach deer (venison), was it because the Park covered previously common land, or because his family was in real need? He may have felt he had natural rights to hunting in Warwickshire (I refer to my research showing the royal Anglo Saxon and Mercian origins of the Arden family). I have noted that twice in the history plays he calls the Normans, "bastard Normans", possibly referring to their illegitimate ancestor Rollo, but also to their land stealing. He may have secretly resented the Norman lords of the manor.
The most impressive parts of Charlecote are those which are original: the 16th century gatehouse, the brewery and the back of the present house. I was fascinated by the Avon which almost washes the back of the house which, suitably, had a number of white swans. It flows with purpose between banks of reeds. There is an iirresistible, almost muscular power in the river making these Shakespearean lines really poignant:
"The current that with gentle murmur glides...
But when his fair course is not hindered
He makes sweet music with th'enamelled stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to ever sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
And so by many winding nooks he strays
With willing sport, to the wide ocean."
We timed our visit with an Elizabethan costume lecture in the hall at Charlecote in which Robert Dudley knighted, on behalf of his Queen, the lord of the manor. The lecture was about the dress of Elizabethan noblewomen. We learnt about Elizabethan laws to prevent anyone on a lowish income wearing any luxurious clothes. So, if you were on a wage equivalent to, say, 20K today, you could not wear velvet clothes by law. If you were on modern 40K you could not wear silk, and so on. Lady Mary Sidney once wore a gown too velvety for the jealous Queen Elizabeth who punished her by making her buy her (the Queen) a new one. It was a method of keeping nobles and people in general, in their place, and underpinning rank and wealth through public ostentation. It meant instant recognition of wealth and rank, through certain designs and fabrics, which were very costly. As Shakespeare's income increased, he would have been able to wear more costly fabrics like worsted wool. The Sidneys, as modest multi-millionaires would have been able to wear them at all times, though may have chosen plain clothes anyway, for economic or religious reasons. We can see the dress codes of the day on tombstones:
A married noblewoman could not show her hair, or any of her chest or breast. Unmarried women were permitted to wear their hair down, and to wear low cut bodices. Hence, Queen Elizabeth I is always painted with a bare breast. Perhaps she did not get married because she loved dressing up in flirtatious dresses? Some later Elizabethan caps allowed married women show some hair. A lady's bodice was a copy of the male doublet, a fashion started by Catherine Howard. Ladies wore no briefs which were regarded as "unhealthy", but regularly changed their under chemise, which unlike outer clothes could be washed. Over this they wore an ornamental triangular "panel" of the finest material but only in the front because material was so costly. These inserts could be interchanged to appear like a new dress. They wore highly starched stand up white linen collars which set off the face. Human urine was used to bleach them. Wealthy married ladies never appeared outside the bedroom without a long black heavy outer cloak, even in summer, which was fur-lined in winter. They carried keys and prayer books on a string tied around their waist. As a bra, they used reeds stuffed into special pockets in their under bodice. The aim was the flatten the chest. To pull them up straight, as on military parade, (as sign of upper social class), they were pulled into their bodice by a "straight lace", a single lace at the back threaded into the bodice. In my view, women's most desired dress colours were not flattering being red-maroon and black.
Paolo wanted to see something of Stratford-upon-Avon. First, we saw the Shakespeare birthplace in Henley Street, the house where William Shakespeare was born in 1564 and lived, until he was 24, in 1588.
His father and mother died there. In his Will, he left it to his sister Joan’s family, the Harts. In the photo, you can see the sitting room and kitchen windows and the window of his parents large room upstairs. There is a two storey separate “apartment” at the back in which, no doubt, he lived with his own family, jutting out into the garden, in which they bleached skins (to make gloves) in one part, and grew herbs and vegetables in another. Most of Shakespeare's key images come from this kitchen, and its kitchen garden. Then we walked to the Guild Chapel, next to now demolished "New Place". Here he attended daily worship while at the grammar school, looking up at the newly whitewashed walls, following the Reformation. Here he heard, and even sang the Psalms, which he often quoted. I fancy he was a boy chorister here and here he learnt to read music.
We reached Ludlow at about six, after traversing Clee Hill between Bewdley and Ludlow, from which the view over Shropshire is panoramic, like seeing "all the kingdoms of the world" at once. The road to the campsite took in romantic views of wonderful, faitytale Ludlow Castle, seat at one time of Prince Arthur and his wife, Catherine of Aragon, Mary Tudor and of the President of the Welsh Marches. It still has very imposing walls. We drove up a rough track we came to Monstay Farm where horsey women living in Ludlow, stable their horses and come up twice a day to feed them. What dedication that must require in winter snows.
We chose a field to pitch our tent, with remote views of fields and Forestry Commission woodland. It is large and comfortable (as tents go) with two inner tents (one for storage) and enough room to stand upright, in a largish living area. We cooked completely on gas, the first night. Food tastes much better cooked in the open. We started to plan how to link up to electricity, for which we needed a caravan lead.
Day Two
We parked in beautiful Ludlow, which is a mixture of typical medieval houses and Georgian brick frontages. A scenic part-timbered house, near St Lawrence Church would have been a drapers, in the 16th century. St Lawrence Church, Ludlow in the middle of town is a most beautiful parish church with a real spiritual warmth about it, which may be something to do with Sidney Calvinism and the artists employed to decorate it, in the 16th century. The choir stalls are famous for wooden medieval carvings and the altar screen is very delicate.
St Lawrence is connected to international diplomat and linguist, Sir Henry Sidney of Penshurst, in Kent. He had married Mary Dudley, daughter of the Duke of Northumberland, who had been Lord Protector under Edward VI (but was beheaded for putting Lady Jane Grey on the throne to maintain England from Catholicism). The Sidney family loved education, art, languages and the Continental reformed faith. We know that their Penshurst household was carefully regulated to include daily chapel worship, Psalm singing, a widely “Renaissance” education, exercise, music and languages. This strict regime resulted in two of the most outstanding Elizabethan silver poets/writers: Sir Philip Sidney and Mary Sidney. They were authors together of the "Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia”, which was the most widely read book in English for two hundred years. Is Arcadia a reminiscence of fairytale Ludlow castles, sheep, woods and countryside? The female children were brought up at Dublin Castle, and mainly at Ludlow, the official seat of the President of the Council of the Marches (Sir Henry Sidney) which is also called a “principality” on inscriptions in St Lawrence Church. Philip Sidney was regarded as kind of prince abroad. They also had a sister, Ambrosia Sidney who died at Ludlow Castle in February 1574. She is buried in a short tomb under a memorial by the high altar, which I think demonstrates the family's love and grief, though it does not say so, in so many words.
Her parents’ names, marriage and arms are set out in detail almost as their own memorial, but the inscription says nothing about Ambrosia (even her age). She was named after Ambrose, the Earl of Warwick, the Calvinist Earl at Warwick while Shakespeare grew up nearby at Stratford. Sir Henry Sidney was secular and ecclesiastical Governor of areas the Queen which never visited, namely, the whole of Wales, Monmouthshire, Gloucestershire, Worcester, Shopshire and Cheshire, as well as the cities of Bristol, Gloucester and Chester. He was also Governor of Ireland. Therefore Ludlow was the capital of west central England. He appointed men to posts throughout Wales and the Marches (the Borders) and apart from him, there was no other government in these regions. Apparently, Sir Henry was stately without disdain, familiar without contempt, very continent, generous, learned in languages, a great lover of learning, “skilful in antiquities”, witty and lively, temperate, well spoken, wise, a “father to his servants” and courageous. This is an assessment from Edmund Campion, who served Sir Henry before becoming an ardent Jesuit. It was all the more commendable because Mary Dudley, his wife, who had been a very attractive woman until she nursed the Queen through smallpox, was so badly disfigured by catching the disease from the Queen, that she always wore a mask. Sir Henry remained faithful to her, even though she sometimes kept her own apartment, and they acted as loving parents together, as letters to Philip Sidney demonstrate. As a result of Ambrosia's death, Queen Elizabeth wrote to her parents at Ludlow Castle and summoned Mary Sidney, their remaining “hope”, to London, away from the “unhealthy” Ludlow Castle, which may have already killed Prince Arthur, Prince of Wales, son of Henry VII. This was in order for her to marry her at 16, the leading Protestant Earl of Pembroke, William Herbert, already twice married and once divorced, and well into his forties, to cement the power liaison between her uncle, the Earl of Leicester, Robert Dudley (also a Calvinist) and Pembroke (Protestant leader at Court). Here is Sir Henry Sidney’s coat of arms:
We liked this tomb of a Chief Justice of the Council of the Marches appointed under Sir Henry Sidney. It has “fairytale” or Hollywood air and the man is holding a Bible and wearing a ring. One can imagine him suddenly moving and standing up.
I worked out which the "Sidney Apartments" were at Ludlow Castle as twelve private rooms were specially built by Sir Henry. They are on the right of the photo (see photo two below). The Sidney residence was essentially a very large three or four storey stone house, with spectacular views. Walking around the ruins, one could see small chambers on every floor, some with chilly privies. The stone rooms which would have been insulated with panelling or tapestries were where Mary and Ambrosia Sidney were taught the Classics, Hebrew, poetry, music, dancing, needlework and so on. Their tutors were probably Lodowick Bryskett, a scholarly half Italian tutor and French tutor, Jean Tessel. If only stones could "speak". How tempting for the children, looking out through arrow slits at the river below, to go out riding around the castle and to explore the country.
Above is a view of the huge outer bailey at Ludlow. On the left (see photo below) was the enormous guest house, in the middle the main hall of the castle and on the right were the high apartments built by Sidney. Their private chapel was an early round Norman Church, in the inner bailey. The battlement views are stunning and one can imagine that living in such a "fairytale castle" gave all its children a taste for romantic stories.
We then spent some time looking for the famous “Feathers Hotel” in Ludlow which was an old merchant’s house and has an exquisite frontage, far more quaint than can be conveyed in any photo.
In the afternoon, we visited the elegant home of the Croft family, Croft Castle (National Trust). They were a medieval Norman family whose main claim to fame was one member who, under torture in the Tower of London, would not implicate Princess Elizabeth in being involved in a plot to bring down Mary Tudor. If she was involved, and he resisted to name her under torture, it is quite an accomplishment (historically speaking). The interior was 18th century and very beautiful. I ascertained that the Croft family still lives there (upstairs) and uses the house when it is not open. We then bought an electric lead for the tent.
Then we went to Hereford Cathedral for tea in the Cathedral Buttery and took a quick wander round an art show in the Bishop's Palace Garden.
Hereford Cathedral is “chilly norman” in style. Evensong was led by a female Canon, with a very severe hair cut. We were impressed with a kneeling modern statue which was expressive, in reality, but did not photograph well.
The electric cable in the tent enabled us to go online, to send and receive emails, boil up water, read books. It generally made cooking easier. I even dried my hair, using a hair dryer. One could connect to a v low powered microwave or v low powered heater.
Day Three
In the morning the weather was fine. There was a mass congregation of sweetly singing, emigrating swallows on the overhead cable near our field, which was very interesting and charming. Nature definitely reigned throughout Monstay Farm. Our B&Q "waspinator" which is a mock wasp nest, kept the wasps away which plagued and even stung our neighbouring campers. We had hot showers and felt very refreshed by the air and sleeping so close to Mother Earth, which is very therapeutic indeed. Paolo thinks the Earth gives off energy which is healing. One sleeps very soundly on the Earth. It is certainly one of the main attractions of camping. Another is the sociability of site owners and fellow campers - everyone really talks and is very kind. The farm owners were very kind in lending us stuff. Below is a photo of me boiling a kettle.
We left for Stokesay Castle (English Heritage) which is one of the most charming of English moated manor houses. The church has a very amusing wall inscription saying: “How dreadful is this place: it is none other than the House of God”.
Did Sir Henry Sidney on the way to Shrewsbury take the equivalent of coffee in this lovely room, with the castle owner? We also had a fine demonstration, from a very humorous man, about how long it takes to load and fire a Civil War rifle which is earsplittingly loud. Stokesay was built to defend against marauding Welsh, who came over the border about 10 miles away.
We reached Shrewsbury (pronounce like the animal “shrew”) and enjoyed the imposing Market Hall, built around 1590 and medieval St Chads Church, where Shrewsbury School used a chapel as a schoolroom. Shrewsbury is a very elegant town, embraced in a loop by the River Severn, with quite a number of half-timbered houses and a red Norman castle now a rather dull military museum. There are lots of attractively dressed, slim residents of style, far smarter in appearance than most people in London. Below is the market place and market hall.
Then to Shrewsbury Library, for our private tour, by the Librarian, of the famous old Shrewbury School attended by Sir Fulke Greville, Sir Philip Sidney and Charles Darwin. Shrewsbury School moved out during the late 19th century to new premises and the old building was eventually renovated by the City Council to a very high standard. We found that the main stone building dated from the early 17th century, so Darwin knew it, but not Sidney and Greville.
In 1560, the school had just been founded and rented three old medieval half timbered houses, one of which, the 15th century Rigg’s building, still stands. This view was known to the first pupils:
Philip's father, Sir Henry, sent him here probably because Norman Shrewsbury Castle was within his control, and Ludlow was only about 25 miles away. Shrewsbury was an ardently Calvinist school, where the elite of Shrewsbury landowners and merchants of the new faith sent their sons in spite of most of Shropshire being Catholic. Going to Shrewsbury enabled nine year old Philip to receive a high quality Calvinist education in the company of his cousin James Harrington and Dudley relative Fulke Greville, his biographer. It would also toughen up a sensitive and noble-hearted boy, as he would then go to Oxford at 13, and rarely see his mother and family until he was 20. Philip boarded at Shrewsbury, lodging with the family of a local merchant and MP for the town, George Leigh. It would have given him insight into a merchant’s domestic life. He had only a few concessions to his rank, including a servant or two to wash his clothes. He did have his own “close stool”, so that he did not have to go to the toilet in a field opposite the school, like the other pupils (because he original school had no “facilities”). School hours and terms lasted from 7-4.30 in winter, and 6-5.30pm in spring and summer. For some years, due to being the heir of Robert Dudley, he spent holidays at Kenilworth Castle where new clothes had to be bought for him, to replace his sad and shabby ones. The school used Calvin’s Catechism, not that of the Church of England, and all Philip’s education was filtered through Calvinist doctrines. His father wrote to him, like Polonius in Hamlet, to advise him to think before he spoke, to give himself to much prayer and above all, not to lie. Philip attended during the time of headmaster, Robert Ashton, a fine Calvinist scholar, who went on tour with Philip in the train of Robert Dudley, to help him with his Latin orations in front of the Queen. Under Ashton, within ten years the school had a reputation for being one of the finest Edward VI grammar schools in England. Richard Baxter, the famous puritan preacher from nearby Kidderminster (we glimpsed his statue there the next day) suggested to Oliver Cromwell to found a Calvinist University at Shrewsbury, using facilities already in place at the fine “free school” - Shrewsbury School but it never came to pass. The Librarian also kindly showed us a private box of ancient quill pens, name tags and a old shoe found during the excavations. Who knows if one of the quills was found in Rigg’s building once belonged to Philip Sidney, the studious schoolboy?
Then we struck out for Clun, just east of the Welsh border to see the ruined Norman Castle. The Great August Downpour, which latest two days had begun, so we went to the churchyard instead. Clun is remote and supposed to be the “quietest place under the sun”, according to A E Housman. In the churchyard, we found the black headstones of 1960s playwright and actor John Osborne ("Look Back in Anger") and his last wife, Helen.
They had very strange, nihilist, post-modern inscriptions. John Osborne had five wives and lingering reputation for being a misogynist and womaniser. Perhaps it is relevant that his inscription says, "Let me know where are you working tomorrow night and I will come and see you". It is a line for Archie Rice, an Osborne character. Helen’s headstone says something like "My feet are hurting" - "Then try washing your socks" (which turns out to be lines from “Look Back in Anger”). Paolo wondered if the sermon at the funeral of John Osborne was a lot of nonsense, too. Then we crossed the border into Wales to Knighton or Trefyclawdd, to see the dual language road signs.
The Great August Downpour intensified. Our tent was waterproof and we had the “electrics”. It was more comfortable inside than it looked outside. We later heard that people in a camper van, who had their own problems of cramped space and inability of space to dry their sodden clothes, said to each other on arrival, "Just think about those poor people in that tent, tonight!". Those "poor people" were us but we were perfectly alright, in spite of the storm, we remained dry and managed an evening meal and reading, listening to the continual drumming of rain on the tent.
Day Four
Thankfully, the hard rain stopped while Paolo packed up very carefully and we left with the wet tent in its bag at 10.50am. Packing up a large wet tent definitely ranks with shopping in Oxford Street as one of the least pleasant of modern human activities. If one were over-nighting on a European tour, one should really take a tiny "pop up tent" in addition to the large tent. The good news was that our three night stay only cost 28pds including power. Paolo and I simultaneously said "Oh, for an English Breakfast" but we did not complain about the rain. However, it must have been a negative factor in many late August English holidays.
We drove over misty Clee Hill to the town where Mary Sidney was born, Bewdley. Bewdley was a real surprise. We had no expectations of it but it is delightful, almost perfect town, complete with a puffing steam train. Historically, it was a medieval trading town, with dock, on the River Severn with access to Bristol and the sea. It has a long waterfront (liable to severe flooding before the current embankment was reinforced), an excellent Museum and all day English Breakfasts with a view of the wide Severn.
Mary Sidney, leading Elizabethan woman poet was born at Tickenhall Palace, Bewdley which belonged to the English monarchs, but was leased to the President of the Marches, as a private residence. I suppose that the Sidneys could have safely sailed up the Severn to their residence in Bewdley, all the way from Chatham, Kent. In fact this was later confirmed when I read that in May 1586, Sir Henry Sidney coming from Ludlow caught a severe chill, aged 56, on the barge from Bewdley. He was taken to the Dean’s House at Worcester where he died. His heart was removed and taken back to be buried alongside Ambrosia in Ludlow Church, his entrails were buried in Worcester Cathedral and his body was taken by road through Oxford and Kingston-on-Thames to Penshurst Church, where it was joined only three months later by Mary Dudley’s remains. She died in London, in the home of her daughter-in-law (Philip’s wife) Frances Walsingham.
I knew from internet research that the modest “Palace” still stands. It is medieval inside, but Georgian on the outside. But where was it, as it is now a private house? The Tourist Office and Museum knew about it and had run an exhibition on its history, last year. I was sorry to have missed it and there was no documentation available. They indicated its location on a map, but doubted that it could be inspected. But we tried to find it and drove up one private drive and glimpsed the modest Georgian frontage, the same at that on the internet. Now I know where Mary Sidney was born.
We drove then to red brick Kenilworth Castle (English Heritage), the home of Robert Dudley, her uncle and "lover" of Queen Elizabeth. In spite of the now chill rain, we were really delighted with the large, renovated Elizabethan “love garden” built for the visit of Elizabeth in 1574, the complete Leicester gatehouse, and its wonderful exhibition. We learnt that Elizabethan flower gardens carried special cryptic messages. I was interested to hear that only a few nobles, probably including Philip and Mary Sidney would have been allowed to visit it. Now the whole world can:
Twelve year old Mary Sidney may have recited poetry during the Court entertainments for Elizabeth I and, possibly, Shakespeare was there, as a ten year old, since his descriptions of dolphins resemble the water entertainments on the extensive lake, which then completely surrounded the Castle. The Queen stayed in the new main part of the Castle which, before it is ruined, looked like this:
I loved a fireplace, possibly from Queen Elizabeth's room in the now ruined house, in the gatehouse with "RL" lettering (Robert Leicester) and his message to the world, "Drioct" (“upright) and "Loyal" (“faithful”), which also appeared on a surviving finely worked tapestry from his elegant house in the Strand, now in the exhibition. Paolo commented that the death of his wife, Amy Robsart, at Cumnor, which Leicester might have been responsible for (to make way for marriage with the Queen) may have put the Queen off marrying him. No one could be sure that he had not organised Amy’s death, but knowing more about him, now, I doubt he did it. I think she simply fell downstairs, in distress at his absences. Someone informed us the main Castle had been slighted (ruined) during the Civil War. Cromwell ruined a lot of potential National Trust star attractions.
Our return journey was not very pleasant through the rain. By now, I had driven nearly 530 miles and did not trust myself on the final long stint on the M25, which adds 40 or even 50 miles, to the return journey. So I tried to go home through London and down the Old Kent Road, but we got severely stuck for an hour or more, at Hammersmith. The satellite navigator would not share its plans for us. The problem with satellite navigators is that you cannot interrogate them about what they are plotting. So we found ourselves over the river and heading to the M25 at Dorking. I gave in, out of exhaustion, and we took the M25 home, hoping tiredness did not kill. Happily, this time, it did not.
Summary
All in all it was a wonderful trip, improved by its economics. The rain did not put us off camping or “hamping” as we might now call it (Hitech Camping). Another year we would go earlier in the year. I overhead one woman telling another in Shropshire that “The seasons are getting earlier”. She said “Spring comes earlier - and so does autumn. It is all one month earlier”. Any time in July would be ideal for camping in England. Camping in England definitely has its charms.