Aemilia Lanyer

I’d like to introduce Aemilia Lanyer to you today. I read about a group biography called Shakespeare’s Sisters recently and Aemilia Lanyer is one of the 17th century women writers included in that book. I’ll tell you a bit more about her person and we’ll look at a section of her only published poetry collection, which was written expressively to defend Eve, the one in the Garden of Eden, and therefore all women.

Who is Aemilia Lanyer?

So who is Aemilia Lanyer? She was the first Englishwoman to publish a substantial volume of original poems and to attract patronage.

Lanyer was born five years after Shakespeare, into Elizabethan England, and lived through the reign of Elizabeth, James and Charles, and died at the age of 76. Unlike the other three women mentioned in the group biography, Lanyer came from a humble family background: her father was a court musician who migrated from Italy, her mother was probably illiterate.

For reasons unknown, this young woman of low birth was brought up in the household of the Countess of Kent, which gave her access to court. She was either beautiful or intelligent, or both, but she was special enough to attract the attention of Henry Carey, first Lord Hunsdon, when she was 18 or 20 to become his mistress for about four or five years.

Who was Lord Hunsdon? He was the son of Mary Boleyn, who was the sister of Anne Boleyn. So Lord Hunsdon was a cousin of Elizabeth I and our little Aemilia hasn’t done too badly for herself. Both of her parents were dead by now. Imagine a young woman moving in the exciting but dangerous water of a Tudor court without any powerful support or protection of family or royal blood. So in addition to intelligence and beauty, I’d say she was ambitious too. It’s possible that she was picked out from the crowd and had no choice but to become his mistress. But I don’t think so. Judging by her writing, she was clearly a bold and spirited creature, not a docile plaything.

We’re not done with this Lord Hunsdon. He was not only a cousin to the Queen, more importantly, to my interest at least, he was Queen Elizabeth’s lord chamberlain. Does it ring a bell? He was the patron of the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, Shakespeare’s playing company! There are just two jumps from Lanyer to Shakespeare! But I did some maths and realised very sadly that Shakespeare’s company didn’t become Lord Chamberlain’s Men (1594) until two years after Aemilia was married off to someone else (1592). So they were not in the Lord Chamberlain’s circle at the same time. Lord Chamberlain’s Men also didn’t come to perform in court until a year later. So it’s unlikely that Aemilia had seen Shakespeare in court. But that doesn’t rule out all possibilities, she might have seen him perform in a theatre in London, and she was married to another court musician. Who knows, maybe her husband and Lord Chamberlain’s Men had entertained the Queen at Christmas side by side.

Back to Aemilia’s life. When she was in her 30s, she lived in another aristocratic household with the Countess of Cumberland at a place called Cookham, where she was encouraged in her learning and writing. She loved her time there and the female companionship, and wrote a poem called The Description of Cookham in her published volume of works.

Her poetry collection

Let’s look at her writing. Her one and only published volume of poems is called Salve Deus Rex Judaeorum, meaning, Hail God, King of the Jews. It was published in 1611, about the same time as Shakespeare’s the Winter’s Tale and the Tempest. It was during the reign of James, the King James Bible was published in the same year. Some of Ben Jonson, Christopher Marlowe and Edmund Spencer’s works were being printed that year as well, just to give some context.

The volume starts with eleven pieces in verse and prose dedicated to patronesses, all of them aristocratic women, including James’ Queen Queen Anne, James’ daughter Princess Elizabeth Stuart, Countess of Kent, the woman who Aemilia lived as a child, Countess of Cumberland and her daughter from the household in Cookham, and Mary Sidney, Sir Philip Sidney’s sister.

One of them is called ‘To the Virtuous Reader’, where she argues that women shouldn’t speak ill of themselves and she uses examples in the gospels to prove her point. All the women she refers to the essay are from the gospel accounts and she has a point. The gospels give an overwhelmingly positive representation of women. There are plenty of bad men, but I can’t think of any evil woman. Aemilia clearly knows her bible well. Since the KJV was published the same year, her knowledge couldn’t have come from reading that. I wonder if she read some of Tyndale’s translation of the bible, or if she had learnt to read Latin.

The title poem is divided into four sub-sections: the Passion of Christ; Eve’s Apology in Defence of Women; The Tears of the Daughters of Jerusalem; the Salutation and Sorrow of the Virgin Mary. The last part is a poem called The Description of Cookham, which I mentioned earlier.

Salve Deus Rex Judaeorum starts with Jesus’ betrayal and retells the story of his crucifixion and resurrection. By the beginning of the section called ‘Eve’s Apology in Defence of Women’, Pontius Pilate has appeared on the stage, “Now Pontius Pilate is to judge the cause of faultless Jesus…”.

Eve’s Apology in Defence of Women

The Norton Anthology includes ‘Eve’s Apology in Defence of Women’, which is from line 745 of the poem. Let’s zoom in on this piece of writing of Aemilia and look at it in a bit more detail.

Aemilia says, Pilate condemned Jesus to die. But before he did that, his wife sent a message asking him not to do it. Pilate, why did you not listen to her?

I completely forgot about this little detail before I read this again. It’s a very Julius Caesar moment, when his wife Calphurnia wouldn’t let him go to the Senate House because of her dream. It says in the Gospel of Matthew chapter 27 verse 19, While Pilate was sitting on the judge’s seat, his wife sent him this message: “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him.”

Aemilia is going to argue now that what Pilate did to Jesus, despite his wife’s warning, makes women’s ‘crime’ appear a lot less problematic.

Till now your indiscretion sets us free,
And makes our former fault much less appear;

And women’s ‘crime’ seems to have come all the way from Eve, because that’s where she goes. I’m really curious if that’s the stance of society at the time: that women are inferior to men because of Genesis chapter 3. I guess in response to this common view, Aemilia goes on to defend Eve and all women in her train about what happened in the Garden of Eden. It’s a feminist take on the story of the Fall.

In Genesis chapter 3, which is usually called the Fall, we read the familiar story of Eve, who was deceived by the serpent, disobeyed the command of God, took the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, ate it and gave some to Adam, who also ate it.

The ‘lessons’ are usually that Eve was neither clever enough to see through the serpent’s lies, nor strong enough to resist the temptation. It was also terrible that Eve disobeyed God’s clear command. Worst of all, she didn’t just ruin her own life, she gave it to her husband and ruined his life too, which ruined all our chances. But here’s Aemilia’s argument:

Our Mother Eve, who tasted of the Tree,
Giving to Adam what she held most dear,
Was simply good, and had no power to see,
The after-comming harm did not appear:
The subtle serpent that our Sex betrayed
Before our fall so sure a plot had laid.

You immediately sense that the author’s empathy is with Eve, she gave Adam what she held most dear. She didn’t give the fruit to Adam knowing it was going to harm him, when she gave it, she was sharing something that was most precious to her.

That undiscerning Ignorance perceived
No guile or craft that was by him intended;
For, had she known of what we were bereaved,
To his request she had not condescended.
But she, poor soul, by cunning was deceived;
No hurt therein her harmless heart intended:
For she alleged God’s word, which he denies
That they should die, but even as gods, be wise.

Eve didn’t see any deceitful cunning in the serpent. She took the fruit not knowing what the consequences would be, otherwise she would never have done it. I’m not sure I quite agree with that but…

But surely Adam cannot be excused; (which I do agree!)
Her fault, though great, yet he was most too 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.

Aemilia makes a very good point here, which is easily missed. We said earlier that from the account of Genesis chapter 3, it was terrible that Eve disobeyed God’s clear command. But

The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it. And the Lord God commanded the man, “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die.” The Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.”… the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs and then closed up the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man. (Genesis 2:15-22)

Notice the order of events: when God gave Adam the command to not eat from the tree, Eve was not there, she was not even created yet.

Who, being framed by God’s eternal hand,
The perfectest man that ever breathed on earth,
And from God’s mouth received that strait command,
The breach whereof he knew was present death;
Yea, having power to rule both sea and land,
Yet with one apple won to lose that breath,
Which God hath breathed in his beauteous face,
Bringing us all in danger and disgrace.

Adam was the strong one in comparison, the perfect man made by God, given authority over all the earth. He heard the command from God’s own mouth and knew full well that the penalty is death. The poem argues, it’s Adam who brought us all in danger and disgrace, instead of Eve in the common understanding.

And then to lay the fault on Patience’ back,
That we (poor women) must endure it all.
We know right well he did discretion lack,
Being not persuaded thereunto at all.
If Eve did err, it was for knowledge sake;
The fruit being fair persuaded him to fall:
No subtle Serpent’s falshood did betray him;
If he would eat it, who had power to stay him?

The poem says, the serpent didn’t deceive Adam. He ate it because it looked good while Eve ate it for knowledge’s sake. Though the bible does also say the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye… So she thought it was pretty too. The idea of knowledge carries onto the next lines.

Not Eve, whose fault was only too much love,
Which made her give this present to her Dear,
That which she tasted, he likewise might prove,
Whereby his knowledge might become more clear;
He never sought her weakeness to reprove,
With those sharp words which he of God did hear.
Yet Men will boast of Knowledge, which he took
From Eve’s fair hand, as from a learned book.

Men consider themselves superior and more knowledgeable, this is Aemilia commenting on her time, because of the knowledge they took from Eve. And they turn round and condemn Eve for wanting and taking that same knowledge. While Eve, after tasting that sweet knowledge, only wants to share it with her beloved.

If any evil did in her remain,
Being made of him, he was the ground of all.
If one of many worlds could lay a stain
Upon our Sex, and work so great a fall
To wretched man by Satan’s subtle train,
What will so foul a fault amongst you all?
Her weakness did the Serpent’s words obey,
But you in malice God’s dear Son betray.

Whom, if unjustly you condemn to die,
Her sin was small, to what you do commit;
All mortal sins that do for vengeance cry,
Are not to be compared unto it.
If many worlds would altogether try
By all their sins the wrath of God to get;
This sin of yours surmounts them all as far
As doth the sun another little star.

In comparison to what Pilate (who represents men) did, what Eve (who represents women) did was nothing. She in her weakness was deceived, you Pilate, deliberately killed Jesus.

Then let us have our liberty again,
And challenge to yourselves no sovereignty.
You came not in the world without our pain,
Make that a bar against your cruelty.
Your fault being greater, why should you disdain
Our being your equals, free from tyranny?
If one weak woman simply did offend,
This sin of yours hath no excuse nor end.

Therefore stop oppressing women and treating us as inferior. And the poem goes on.

I’m not sure how to feel about the comparison between Eve eating the forbidden fruit and Pilate sentencing Jesus to die, and especially her view of Pilate as being a representative of all men. I think I agree more with her argument about Adam and Eve, I think she goes too far in suggesting that Eve bears almost no responsibility, but I agree that she is definitely not the only one to blame. But my view is not the point of this video. I just want to introduce you to Aemilia Lanyer’s poem, which is much longer than what we looked at here, and has an entirely feminist take, and to show you her arguments on women’s position in society from Shakespeare’s time, much earlier than for example, Mary Wollstoncraft. I find it fascinating.