Early Modern Martha: 

Transcripts

Trailer
Episode 1: Wife, Mother, Widow, Survivor
Episode 2: A Mild Form of Activism
Episode 3: Don’t Put Words In My Mouth
Episode 4: Woolley, Inc.
Episode 5: A 13-Course Banquet For Dummies

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Transcript: Trailer

Welcome to Early Modern Martha, a 5-part audio series on the life and work of Hannah Woolley. In this podcast, we explore what it was like to be a domestic guru in the early modern period, as Hannah Woolley surely was. She was the first woman to publish a cookbook, and the first British female author to make a living through her writing. In her short life, she published 6 books and ran her own cooking school. She has been referred to by many scholars as the Martha Stewart of the early modern period. I’m Kelly Hughes, and this is Early Modern Martha.

Transcript: Episode 1: Wife, Mother, Widow, Survivor

“This little book, which though, but little, containeth more than all the books that I ever saw printed in this nature, they being confounders rather than instructors”.

-Hannah Woolley, from the introduction to The Ladies Directory, 1661.

Welcome to Early Modern Martha, a 5-part audio series on the life and work of 17th-century cookbook author and domestic expert Hannah Woolley. I’m Kelly Hughes.

This is Episode 1: Wife, Mother, Widow, Survivor.

Hannah Woolley was by all accounts, a fierce lady. She’s someone I wish I could have known. By the age of 17, she was employed in the service of Lady Anne Maynard, a noblewoman who gave Hannah books to read on medicinal cures, and unlimited funds to purchase the ingredients needed to test them. At 22 years old, she safely delivered a baby whose mother had gone into convulsions during labour. By age 24, she was married to a schoolmaster named Jerome Woolley, and she lived with him happily near the small village of Saffron Waldon, about 60 miles north of London. It was here she would hone not only her skills as a self-taught woman of medicine but as a fearless and respected member of her small community. If one of her students or neighbours needed help, she jumped into action, working with her own recipes to cure their sicknesses and injuries, and she describes many of these incidents in her writing.

“A young maid as she was cutting sticks with an ax, by chance cut her leg sorely”, she wrote.  Hannah cured her leg, along with some unrelated distemper and dropsy for good measure. She also cured a man bruised by a falling cart, and a young boy who fell from a bridge cut his head on a stone and wound up with a piece of bone protruding from his skull. People burned with fire or scalded, were treated by Hannah, and left with no scars. She cured a 12-year old girl of convulsions. And her own son, of consumption, long after the local doctors had, in her words, given him over.

By the time she wrote her accounts of these incidents, and many others, in her book A Supplement to the Queen-like Closet, she was 52, had given birth to at least 6 children, and been widowed – twice. Today 52 is more or less middle-aged, but in the early modern period, she was nearing the end of her life, and it seemed she had seen it all.

One has to wonder if she attempted to save her husbands as well, trying in vain to administer one of her medicinal recipes or the “sorrel sops for a sick body to eat alone” that she had written about. What we do know is that when she was widowed, both times, she did what she always did, and jumped into action. She began writing down her recipes for cookery and medicine, publishing them, selling cooking classes out of her home, and securing her own safety and survival in the process. When her first husband Jerome died, she paid to have her first book, The Ladies Directory from 1661, published. It was so successful that in 1664, her publisher paid to print her next book, The Cook’s Guide, followed by a third book, A Guide to Ladies, Gentlewomen, and Maids in 1668.  Her recipes for tinctures of lavender and mustard poultices were joined by those for roast capon with chestnuts, lemon cakes, and candied quinces. She advised her readers on how to bake eels into a pie, roast a haunch of pork with pippins, and set a blancmange with isinglass. She was quickly becoming a household name in the field of cookery and domestic advice, and as we’ll see in the next episodes, more fame was on the horizon.

Transcript: Episode 2: A Mild Form of Activism

“It is now about 2 years since I have sent forth a little book entitled The Ladies Directory with a promise, that if it found acceptance, I would then present you with some of my choicest cookery, which now I have done. All you who have made trial of my first, will I hope be encouraged to the cookery also. Your friend, Hannah Wolley.”

-Introduction to The Cook’s Guide, 1664.

Welcome to Early Modern Martha, a 5-part audio series on the life and work of 17th-century cookbook author and domestic expert Hannah Woolley. I’m Kelly Hughes.

This is Episode 2: A Mild Form of Activism

In 1661, Hannah Woolley paid to have her first book published. For a middle-class, unknown woman It was a huge risk, but she took it, and it paid off. Her book was so popular that the publisher foot the bill for her next book, and another four in the eleven years that followed. For a woman who was not a member of the social elite to be published and given a voice through her writing was almost unheard of. During this period, if middle-class women wrote, it was usually letters to one another, or in journals and diaries that were never meant to be published. One of Hannah Woolley’s contemporaries was Robert May, an English chef who trained in France. In 1660 his book The Accomplish’d Cook was published with a frontispiece portrait and a biography of his life, and it introduced Britain to the cuisine of Europe. But unlike Hannah Woolley’s work, May’s was directed at men and professional cooks. In fact, before Woolley, most books on cookery, domestic advice, or on the conduct of women were written by men, directed at women. But what Hannah did was unique. She lent credibility and importance to the domestic sphere, creating a space where women could take pride in their accomplishments of what was considered the female pursuits of cooking and housekeeping. She was able to fill an unknown niche, that of the middle-class woman who wanted to become adept in the domestic arts, as well as young women in service, and in doing so, achieved a level of gender equality, at least in the publishing world. When we think of the ways people become famous, doing something that no one has done before pretty much tops the list. Woolley also opened the door for other female domestic writers, including Hannah Glasse, Catherine Beecher, Isabella Beeton, and of course, Martha Stewart.

Transcript: Episode 3, Don’t Put Words In My Mouth

“If anyone that honour will me give
To see me in the place where I do live
I will them satisfie in every thing
That they desire, and vindication bring
Unto myself, who have been much abus’d
By a late-printed book, my name there us’d
I was far distant when they printed it
Therefore, that book to own, I think not fit”.

-Hannah Woolley, from an introductory poem to A Supplement to the Queen-Like Closet, 1674.

Welcome to Early Modern Martha, a 5-part audio series on the life and work of 17th-century cookbook author and domestic expert Hannah Woolley. I’m Kelly Hughes.

This is Episode 3: Don’t Put Words in My Mouth

Between 1673 and 1677, something interesting happened. Three books by Hannah Woolley were published in quick succession, including one that appeared after her death. Except what scholars have uncovered is that it’s very likely that none of them were written by Hannah Woolley, at least not in their entirety. The book that Woolley rails against in the poetic introduction to A Supplement to the Queen-Like Closet is The Gentlewoman’s Companion from 1673. While it contains many of her recipes and some accuracies about her biography, scholars have pointed out that there are inconsistencies in her writing. The style is off. Large swaths of text are devoted to the inferiority and proper place of women. There is a chapter on angling, which is not something she had ever written about, even in her recipes for fish. If Hannah Woolley were an expert at fishing, why should she wait three books to disclose it? The best proof of all lies in the words of Hannah herself where she stood up against the appropriation of her name for a piece of work she didn’t write: “I was far distant when they printed it,” she says  “therefore, that book to own, I think not fit.”

Another book, the recently discovered A Guide to Ladies, Gentlewomen, and Maids from 1668 is in fact the work of Hannah Wooley, but it is in this work we see how she is beginning to lose control over her image. The frontispiece portrait is meant to depict Woolley, but it is not her. These unauthorized depictions of her work and her image were the result of being a famous female author in the 17th century.  She became so famous that putting her name on work that was not hers meant it would sell. Words that claimed to be from the mind and pen of Hannah Woolley sold books, and a portrait depicting a tasteful and elegant woman completed the brand package. The three books that were knocked off from Hannah Woolley all sported some version of the portrait on their front pages. What’s even more interesting is that of these books, The Accomplish’d Ladies Delight, doesn’t even mention Woolley’s name anywhere in it. The inclusion of the portrait alone led the book to be attributed to Woolley, and her image sold books that she would never enjoy the profits from.

Today, a brand is understood to be famous when it starts being knocked off. It seems For Hannah Wooley in Early Modern England, it wasn’t all that different.

Transcript: Episode 4, Woolley, Inc.

“If any desire to be further informed in these arts, be please to enquire for me where you find these books to be sold, and I shall readily do them any service.”

-Hannah Woolley, The Ladies Directory, 1661.

Welcome to Early Modern Martha, a 5-part audio series on the life and work of 17th-century cookbook author and domestic expert Hannah Woolley. I’m Kelly Hughes.

This is Episode 4: Woolley, Inc.

6 books, a cooking school, and a publisher who would print anything and everything she wrote, and even some she didn’t. In 1674, Hannah Woolley was the mistress of own her small empire and had achieved a level of fame that had only been enjoyed by male writers of the early modern period. I keep thinking back to that first, gutsy move of putting her own money on the line to pay for the publishing of The Ladies’ Directory in 1661. In her teenage years, Hannah Woolley worked as a servant, so she would not have enjoyed the financial protection of family wealth. Her first husband was a schoolmaster, and when he died, the living he left her must have been modest. She most certainly would have had limited funds to gamble on a book that may or may not sell, that may or may not pay off with a financial offer from the publisher in exchange for more books. We will never know about the conversations she had with her first publisher Peter Dring about the prospects for this first book. What we do have are a few clues to suggest that by all accounts, Hannah Woolley began her cookery writing at just the right time and place to secure her success.

So a little background…the publisher who printed most of Hannah Woolley’s books was Dorman Newman, and like most publishers, he was also a seller. In the mid-1500’s Mary I issued a charter called the London Company of Stationers which limited printing to only those who were freemen in the company or held a license under a Royal Letters patent. This charter meant that most printing operations stayed within London, where the larger companies did their business. In Hannah Woolley’s time, this rule was still in place, but the instability caused by the Civil war also meant that unauthorized sellers fell through the cracks of bureaucracy, leading to an intense surge in the number of booksellers and publishers in London. The increased competition meant that as a publisher, you had to stand out. Publishers sought out new titles and genres to distinguish themselves in a now-crowded market. It was not an easy time to be a publisher. The message was, innovate, or perish, and Dorman Newman probably sussed out that a woman writing about cooking for middle-class women would have stood out as very unique among books of religious sermons, politics, or literature.

Despite the competition, publishing was flourishing. Londoners had a passion for books, and in the 1600s over 100,000 titles were published in England. At the same time, the ornately tooled leather-bound volumes destined for the elite were scaled back so that titles for the middle to upper classes were affordable and encouraged repeat customers. Literacy rates for middling women in London in 1680 was 62.5%. And the bookshop was a respectable place to be. Women could go there. They could get dressed up, perhaps meet some friends and go browse. Dorman Newman even encouraged lingering by providing stools in his shops. These were the women who In the 17th century, would be very interested in books by Hannah Woolley. Between 1670 and 1684, The Queen-Like Closet was published 5 times, The Compleat Servant Maid had 10 printings and The Accomplish’d Ladies Delight was printed 12 times during the early modern period.

And it wasn’t just in London where her books were flying off the shelves. The Queen-Like Closet was published twice in German, and in 1680 her books were among only three English cookbooks for sale in the bookshops of Boston.

So was Hannah’s fame the result of her own business savvy, the marketing strategies of a smart publisher, or just the good luck of having her work become relevant in book-hungry London? Perhaps it a bit of all of these, but we can’t know for certain. We know from her words that each of her books was anticipated by her public, and they would know when her books became available through what was then a new practice by booksellers of printing catalogues of their available books. You can view an original copy of Dorman Newman’s catalogue from 1675, complete with an entry for Hannah Wooley’s latest book on page 12 by clicking the link in the show notes.

Transcript: Episode 5, A 13-Course Banquet For Dummies

“It is no small disadvantage our sex hath, compared with men, whilest they enjoy the benefit of free-schools, colledges and universities, and we like the violet, must grow in the shade of obscurity, not much seen or heard.”

Hannah Woolley, from the introduction to The Ladies’ Delight, 1672.

Welcome to Early Modern Martha, a 5-part audio series on the life and work of 17th-century cookbook author and domestic expert Hannah Woolley. I’m Kelly Hughes.

This is Episode 5: A 13-course banquet for dummies

Despite her words, Hannah Woolley was seen, and heard, and continues to be today, but her words leave in their wake some lingering questions about how her gender role within society can be reconciled with her success as a domestic writer? Perhaps she didn’t view the domestic arts as remarkable, but somehow, I doubt it. She was a master of her craft, and in this same book, she comments on her own mastery and years of experience. Perhaps her words came from a place of the female modesty peculiar to the early modern era, and many others before and after it. Could it be that, in becoming a writer in order to support herself, she was surprised that people found her books interesting enough to read be sold in a bookshop alongside Shakespeare’s plays, or the culinary tome of esteemed chef to the nobility, Robert May?

It’s a sad truth of life that we can’t look into the future, and once we’re gone, we fail to see the impact that our life and work have on future generations. What we know now is that domesticity has the power to transcend time. Hannah Woolley’s writing, and the work of female cookery writers who have followed her, continues to sell books, magazines, television shows, public appearances and continues to be meaningful for generations of women. Her relevance and influence are still palpable, and we can catch glimpses of our modern lives in her work. The connecting theme is not the recipes or the advice itself, but the messages embedded in them. There is no virtue in a meal itself, but to apply the outward signifiers of good domestic practice to our lives has been and continues to be how women view themselves within the home, and outside of it. Part of that view is about the fantasy. Domestic writing has the power to help us imagine what we wish to be, rather than what we actually are.

So how much of the advice in Hannah Woolley’s books was actually followed? How many of her recipes made it to the table? So much domestic and food writing today is about the fantasy, the cookbooks we buy and spend an hour or two flipping through, but never wind up making the recipes. Was it the same for the middle-class women who owned The Queen-Like Closet? Even the title sounds fantastic, a book that allows readers to replicate the foods and recipes in the pantry of the Queen herself. Was some of Hannah Woolley’s work akin to, for lack of a better term,  food porn?

When I dug further into the content, I thought the answer has to be yes, at least in some cases. The final section of The Supplement to the Queen-like closet lists a collection of sample menus. A Bill of Service for Extraordinary Feasts in the Summer reads as follows:

A Grand Sallad
A boiled Capon or Chickens
A boiled Pike or Bream.
A Florentine in Puff-Paste
A Haunch of Venison rosted
A Lomber Pie.
A Dish of Green Geese
A Fat Pig with a Pudding in the belly.
A Venison Pasty
A Chicken Pie
A Dish of young Turkeys
A Potato Pie
A couple of Caponets
A Set Custard

So, that’s 14 items, and that’s just the first course. Let’s keep going…

For the second course:

A Dish of Chickens roasted
Souced Conger or Trouts
an Artichoke Pie
A Cold Baked Meat
a Souced Pig
a Dish of Partridges
an Oringado Pie (that’s an orange pie)
a Dish of Quails
another cold Baked Meat
Fresh Salmon.
a Dish of Tarts
a jowl of Sturgeon

Another 12 items. I mean it sounds amazing, and I kind of want to make and eat all of these. But wait, there’s more. The third course:

A dish of fried Perches.
A dish of Green Pease.
A dish of Artichokes.
A dish of Lobsters.
A dish of Prawns or Shrimps.
A dish of Anthovies.
A dish of pickled Oisters.
Two or three dried Tongues.

34 dishes in all.

Hannah Woolley’s aim was to normalize the high-style cooking enjoyed by the nobility and make it accessible to the average upper to middle-class household. Yet menus like this one, and there are many more in the book, may have allowed a woman to dream of such a feast, but perhaps not actually make it. Sadly, as with so much of Hannah Woolley’s life, and the lives of the women who were her contemporaries, we just don’t know for sure. Some of her simpler recipes have been found copied into personal, unpublished family recipe books. In one manuscript, an unknown author wrote down word for word Woolley’s recipe for a simple Lemmon Cake. This suggests a person who cooked for real life, and that Woolley’s writing was both useful, and the stuff of fantasy.

This is the last episode in the podcast, and there is so much more to talk about that I haven’t been able to cover. There are also a lot of unknowns, and I wish we knew more about Hannah’s life. Yet her writing says so much. In it her strength comes through, her immediate sense of what needs to be done, a keen understanding of her talents, and a knack for connecting with her audience in a warm and approachable way. She knew instinctively what women wanted to read and used the tools at her disposal to make the very best of her life as a widow, and as a woman in a time when women did not enjoy the same autonomy or rights when it came to business. She was indeed exploited, but she also enjoyed success beyond that of any middle-class woman of her time. That she is still regarded as one of the foremost female food writers, 400 years later, is a testament to that.

I’ll leave off with some final words from Hannah Woolley.

“Ladies, I hope you will say I am better than my word, for here are two hundred very good recipes, added to what was before. I pray; practice them carefully, then censure, or, esteem.”

To see the handwritten recipe for Hannah Woolley’s “Lemmon Cake”, please click the link in the show notes.

This has been Early Modern Martha, a 5-part audio series on the life and work of cookbook author and domestic expert, Hannah Wooley. It was written by Kelly Hughes, and the podcast was produced and edited by Duncan Hill. The theme music is Ice Fields by Martin Gauffin. I’m Kelly Hughes. Thanks for listening.