The Perception of Madness in the Renaissance

Throughout the Elizabethan period, madness was understood as both a supernatural phenomenon, as well as a medical condition. When physicians were unable to understand or account for particular conditions or instabilities, madness was often associated with the supernatural realm. It was believed that those suffering from mental instabilities had made pacts with the devil and demonic spirits, and that their madness was a result of their corrupted spirit. These individuals were seen as evil agents of Satan and were viewed as immoral, seldom receiving any sympathy or assistance. However, when physicians felt that madness was a result of unbalanced humors, society responded differently. In these cases, individuals were viewed as victims, rather than as agents in their madness. Treatment and facilities were created to tend to such individuals and hope for recovery existed. The distinction between medical and moral madness was thus a fundamental characteristic of society’s response to mental instabilities.
In the fourteenth century, mental illness began to be associated with witchcraft. As Dearman points out in his article “Criminal Responsibility and Insanity Tests: A Psychiatrist Looks at Three Cases”, “By the middle of the fifteenth century medical psychology had become so infused with theological and legal ideas of free will that it became impossible to recognize the problem as a medical one” (1390). When madness became associated with moralistic and supernatural elements, individuals acting in peculiar manners were often labeled as sorcerers or witches. Witches and sorcerers were believed to have communicated with Satan out of free will, and were believed to have deliberately decided to act as his agents. This agency was seen as dangerous, as it was thought to permit Satan a channel through which he could further interact with humanity. As George Gifford writes in the early seventeenth century, “Satan is now heard speake, and beleeued. He speaketh by conjurers, by sorcerers, and by witches, and his word is taken. He deuifeth a number of things to be done, & they are put in practice and followed” (3). When madness was associated with Satan and the supernatural, it became a responsibility of the clergy and the Church and was judged and punished according to the Church, rather than the law. As it was not possible to directly condemn or punish Satan for his wickedness, instead, society took to killing his supposed agents. The deaths of witches and sorcerers were often accompanied by confessions, which were most likely a result of torture and delusions.
Although Renaissance society was still influenced by early theories of witchcraft and demonic activity, by the time Shakespeare began to write, madness (associated with witchcraft) was formally dealt with according to the law, rather than religion. In 1563, under the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, a law was passed stating that any first offence of sorcery would result in imprisonment, and that any second offense, would result in death. Later, in 1604, the response to witchcraft became even more severe and the number of hangings and deaths increased (Overholser 338). Although Shakespeare’s personal response to witchcraft is somewhat ambiguous, it is clear that these trials and executions were common affairs throughout his life. The last witch was not hanged until 1684 in England and perhaps more significantly, the prosecution of witches was not outlawed until 1736.
Yet while it was common for society to turn to the supernatural in order to explain madness, madness was also frequently viewed as a medical condition. When madness was not understood as the result of demonic interaction, it was often understood as the result of the planets or the humors. During the Renaissance, it was widely understood that the planets influenced human affairs. The planet’s positioning at the time of one’s birth was believed to affect the individual’s humors and temperament. Similarly, the various positioning of the planets (of which the Sun and Moon were thought to belong) on any given night was also thought to alter one’s humors and temperament. As Overholser points out, “Shakespeare was familiar with the term “lunacy” and “lunatic” and with these other notions concerning the astrological allusions in his plays and sonnets” (338). In many of his plays, Shakespeare uses such language to refer to disturbance or unusual behavior.
An unbalance of humors was also seen as a strong determinant of one’s temperament and disposition. Elizabethan society believed that the human body consisted of four elements: melancholy, phlegm, sanguine and choler. As Overholser states, “Depending upon the predominance of one humor or another there were characteristic physical and psychological types” (342). An unbalance of humors was used to explain both physical illness as well as psychological and mental illnesses, and was often used to describe an individual or their behavior. A melancholic man, for instance, was thought to exhibit “courage, pride, liberality, audacity, cheerfulness, and pleasantness” (Overholser 343) due to the hot and dry nature of melancholy. However, the melancholic individual was also thought to suffer from restless sleeps, fearful dreams, and a doubting fearful and untrusting mind (343). Moreover, the melancholic individual was thought to be especially vulnerable to various physical illnesses and psychological hazards, such as demonic influences. Thus an overly melancholic individual was especially prone to madness.
When madness was considered to be the result of unbalanced humors, treatment was often pursued. In milder cases, physicians were sent to individual’s homes for treatment. While patients were encouraged to take walks outdoors, study, and partake in music, treatments generally focused on realigning the humors and would often consist of bloodletting and various purges and emetics. Certain foods and drugs would also be used, in order to wet or dry the humors, as needed. In 1652, for instance, Nicholas Culpeper spoke of a sappy herb which was thought to be “ very effectual for the Liver and Spleen, opening the Obstructions thereof and clarifying the Blood from Saltish, Choleric, and Adult Humors, Liver, Spleen, Choller, Adult Melancholy, Madness, Forgetfulness, Jaundice, yellows &black” (‘madness’ LEXE). The physicians believed that by ridding the body of excessive humors and by replenishing those that were lacking, the body would reach equilibrium, the mind could be rebalanced and sanity could be regained (Overholser 347).
However, while mild cases of madness were often treated in the home, with many individuals this was not possible. In more severe cases of madness, individuals were often institutionalized in the Bethlehem Hospital, a mental institute outside of London, also known as Bedlam. Living conditions at Bedlam were very poor. Patients were often starved, whipped and used for entertainment. Moreover, public citizens were able to enter Bedlam for a penny and walk around the asylum observing the patients. The abnormal behaviors exhibited by the inmates proved to be a perverse pleasure for many of the visitors, who seemed to make sport of mental illness.
Bedlam was a small institute and was not able to accommodate many. When population would begin to escalate, the hospital would thus release certain individuals, in order to lower residency and maintain itself. Once released, the former inmates would roam the countryside begging for money. As Queen Elizabeth I had outlawed begging, a specific license was needed to do so. Without it, individuals would be whipped and have a whole burnt through their left ear at first offence, and be hanged at their second. While dispatched workers were denied such a license and forced to wander from parish to parish seeking work, the Queen appeared to sympathize with madmen, as generally, they were the only individuals granted a license to beg (Overholser 343).
Unlike many of his contemporaries who made sport of madmen, Shakespeare appeared to be interested in understanding madness, as opposed to merely using it for comic effect. Despite the period’s wide spread analysis of madness, alternative views were beginning to emerge. In 1580, a physician by the name of Johann Weyer argued that witches were mentally ill, rather than demonic. The physician became very distressed with the treatment of witches, stating, “It is highly unpleasant to see how people in order to kill errors are busy killing human beings” (Zilboorg 209). Working against popular beliefs, Weyer argued that witchcraft was a medical condition, as were confessions and various other oddities. Although Shakespeare makes use of witches and madness all throughout his plays, the extent to which he accepts and rejects various ideologies is somewhat ambiguous.
Shakespeare’s portrayal of madness is very complex. In Hamlet, for instance, Shakespeare creates a seemingly mad character, Hamlet. There are many factors accounting for Hamlet’s madness. He appears to be influenced by the moon, his father’s death, interaction with a ghost, his mother’s hasty re-marriage and Ophelia’s rejection. . To an extent, Shakespeare is exploring the cause of madness through Hamlet’s surroundings. Before Hamlet talks with the ghost, he states that “By the overgrowth of some complexion/ (Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason)…Or by some habit too much o’erleavens…Being nature’s livery or fortune’s star” men fall to corruption (1.4.29-35). Thus before Hamlet ever begins to act madly, he comments on the nature of corruption, which may also be read, as an account for madness.
However, despite various events, which might account for Hamlet’s mad appearance, it is uncertain whether Hamlet ever actually does go mad, or whether he is merely feigning madness in order to seek his father’s revenge. Guildenstern goes so far as to speak of Hamlet’s madness as a “crafty madness” (3.1.8). Thus another question arises regarding the authenticity of madness. If Shakespeare is implying that Hamlet’s peers were perhaps misunderstanding Hamlet’s madness, there is possibly an extended criticism to Shakespeare’s own contemporaries and society’s understanding of madness.
Ophelia is another character that stretches the conventional perimeters through which madness was understood. As Ophelia had been driven mad before she took her life, one must question whether she really did have any agency at the time of her death. Ophelia’s suicide is the only moment throughout the play in which she is able to take control of her own life. However, in order to read Ophelia’s final moment as a moment of strength and self-exertion, one must believe that her suicide was deliberate. In other words, one must believe that there was reason in her madness.
Through Hamlet and Ophelia, Shakespeare begins to question conventional understandings of madness, and to explore the complexity behind such a condition. Shakespeare challenges the tendency to reduce mad men and women to a monolithic category and people. In the article “Recent Work in Renaissance Studies: Psychology Did Madness Have a Renaissance?” Neely distinguishes between the words ‘mad’ and insane. “Unlike insanity...madness is not defined as the opposite of sane and is not exclusively a medical condition. It is seen as an extension of, a kind of, the normal: people run mad, fall mad, are beside themselves, and then recover themselves” (778). It is this transient nature of madness, which seems to intrigue and fascinate Shakespeare. Although he makes use of his contemporaries' astrological, supernatural and medical views of madness, the extent to which Shakespeare accepts these theories, remains somewhat ambivalent. As always, it is not an analysis, yet rather an exploration of the nature of a phenomenon that appears to most captivate Shakespeare, and in turn, his audience.


Works Cited
Dearman, H.B. “Criminal Responsibilities and Insanity Tests: A Psychiatrist Looks at
Three Cases”. Virginia Law Review. 47.8 (1961). 1388-1398.
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0042-6601%28196112%2947%3A8%3C1388%3ACRAITA%3E2.0.CO%3B2-H
Gifford, George. A dialogue concerning vvitches and witchcrafts. University of Illinois,
1603. STC/1100:06.
Herold, Niels. “Madness and Drama in the Age of Shakespeare.” Comparative Studies in Society and History. 37.1 (1995), 94-99.
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0010-4175%28199501%2937%3A1%3C94%3AMADITA%3E2.0.CO%3B2-A
Neely, Carol Thomas. “Recent Work in Renaissance Studies: Psychology Did Madness Have a Renaissance?” Renaissance Quarterly. 44.4 (1991) 776-791
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0034-4338%28199124%2944%3A4%3C776%3ARWIRSP%3E2.0.CO%3B2-U
Overholser, Winfred. “Shakespeare’s Psychiatry—And After”. Shakespeare’s Quarterly.
10.3 (1959). 335-352.
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0037
3222%28195922%2910%3A3%3C335%3ASPA%3E2.0.CO%3B2-V
Shakespeare, William. Hamlet. Folger. Ed. Mowat A. Barbara & Paul Werstine. New York: Washington Square Press, 1992.

Zilboorg, Gregory & George W. Henry. A History of Medical Psychology. New York: W.W. Norton & Company Inc., 1941
Lexicans of Early Modern English. 2007 University of Victoria. 14 March 2007.
“Mental Health History Timeline”. A Middlesex University Resource by Andrew Roberts. March 14, 2007.
"The Interior of Bedlam," from A Rake's Progress by William Hogarth, 1763.McCormick Library, Northwestern University” Quest For a Cure: Care and Treatment in Missouri’s First State Mental Hospital. March 14, 2007.

Shakespeare Remix: A Modern Interpretation of Much Ado

Original text of William Shakespeare

Hero O God defend me how am I beset,

What kind of catechizing call you this?

Claud. To make you answer truly to your name.

Hero Is it not Hero, who can blot that name

With any iust reproach?

Claud. Mary that can Hero,

Hero it selfe can blot out Heroes virtue.

What man was he talkt with you yesternight,

Out at your window betwixt twelue and one?

Now if you are a maide, answer to this.

Hero I talkt with no man at that hower my lord.

Prince Why then are you no maiden. Leonato,

I am sory you must heare: vpon mine honor,

My selfe, my brother, and this grieued Counte

Did see her, heare her, at that howre last night,

Talkt with a ruffian at her chamber window,

Who hath indeede most like a liberall villiane,

Confest the vile encounters they haue had

A thousand times in secret.

Iohn Fie, fie, they are not to be named my lord,

Not to be spoken of,

There is not chastity enough in language,

Without offence to vtter them: thus pretty lady,

I am sory for thy much misgouernement.

Claud. O Hero! What a Hero hdst thou bin,

If halfe thy outward graces had bin placed,

About thy thoughts and counsailes of thy heart?

But fare thee well, most foule, most faire, farewell

Thou pure impietie, and impious puritie,

For thee ile locke vp all the gates of Loue,

And on my eie-liddes shall Coniecture hang,

To turne all beautie into thoughts of harme,

And neuer shall it more be gracious.

The martyr of Venice: Legal Precedence in “The Merchant of Venice”

William Shakespeare’s “The Merchant of Venice” displays an Elizabethan history soaked in fear, fear of litigious and societal degradation, fear of the inadequacies of law, and fear of religious intolerance. The trial of Shylock raises fascinating questions on the need for historical context, the place of mercy in law, and, perhaps most interestingly, the worth of the individual in the face of that law. Both Shylock and Portia seem to understand that this trial is not so much about the individuals, but about setting a precedent so that others cannot take advantage of an apparent loophole. Shylock says that he will “stand here for law” (4:1:142); unfortunately, he does just that and is martyred, losing everything.

Starting with Henry the Eighth’s creation of a new religion made specifically to allow his divorce from Catherine, to the persecution of Protestants by Mary, followed by the embrace of Protestants by Elizabeth, the English people became very aware of the role politics play in religion. To make religious matters worse, the outbreak of science caused many to question firmly held beliefs about Christian teachings. These factors led to increased interest in jurisprudence as a firm keystone in an otherwise shaky political structure. The Shakespeare’s Life and Times website believed that morality and justice were closely link in Elizabethan minds; “The Reformation and the increased power of the Puritans changed perceptions of crime and justice both in government and in the popular mind. Religion and morality became matters of state law and potential sources of rebellion” (Best).

It comes as little surprise that Portia’s famous trial speech deals largely with mercy rather than leniency:

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings…

Though justice be thy plea, consider this,

That, in the course of justice, none of us

Should see salvation (4:1:197-200).

Shakespeare, through Portia, warns that justice rarely leaves any party fully satisfied. Mercy, however, could save both Antonio from the wrath of Shylock, and Shylock from the wrath of God. Portia appeals to the court of Chancery, which, according to Wikipedia, allowed the Lord Chancellor or the Duke in “The Merchant”, to rule on a case based on the equity of a particular law rather than its literal interpretation. The court of Chancery provided two much needed solutions to English legal problems. Firstly, it appealed to religion, thereby tying law and morality closer together. Secondly, it allowed a level of interpretation to a law system still in its infancy. Portia’s speech closely echoes a work written in 1596, the same year as “The Merchant”, by Edmund Spenser who was a Clerk of Chancery. Spenser writes, “That powre he also doth to Princes lend…To weeten Mercie, be of Iustice part…And meriteth to have as high a place” (Knight, 187).

W. Nicholas Knight, writes that “equity and mercy as attributes of Chancery are very much in the legal wind of London in 1596” (188) in his book Shakespeare’s Hidden Life: Shakespeare at the Law,. Knight believes that Shakespeare illustrated the need for Chancery by creating a severe punishment Shylock’s use of the letter of the law; “the very terms of the bond were instructive in the debate between law and justice” (189).

However, Portia’s insistence on punishing Shylock further than the law requires clouds such an interpretation. After such an impassioned speech on the quality of mercy, why does she feel the need to leave Shylock with nothing? The answer lies in precedence. Portia herself remarks that the trial will “be recorded for a precedent, / And many an error, by the same example, / Will rush into the state. It cannot be” (4:1:220-221). If Shylock is not willing to be Christian, and accept mercy for Antonio, then he shall be prosecuted to the strictest letter of the law and beyond, because no other interpretation is adequate. He is an example so no others will dare to repeat his gruesome brand of usury.

There are other examples that could have informed both the author and his audience to the necessity of such strict jurisprudence. One such example is the execution of Dr. Roderigo Lopez, a Jew who was appointed physician to Queen Elizabeth, on June 7, 1594. Lopez, also called Lopus, or the wolf, was charged with high treason when he allegedly tried to poison the Queen. According to the introduction in Shakespeare: The Complete works, the Queen “was at first unwilling to believe in his guilt, but after long delays he was hanged and quartered as a traitor” (579). Antonio’s scathing remarks draw a connection between Shylock and Dr. Lopez; “you may as well use question with the wolf” (604). Historical mythology often characterizes the wolf as an unwanted and often dangerous nuisance. Shakespeare, however, alludes to both classical mythos, and the trial of Lopez to show the need for setting a legal precedent, and the inherent danger of that need through the destruction of supposedly innocent men (both Lopez and Shylock).

Christopher Marlowe also makes a connection to the trial of Dr. Lopez in “Dr. Faustus”. Marlowe compares the title character to Lopez, whom he calls Lopus, in the play; “Alas, alas, Doctor Fustian quoth a, mas Doctor Lopus was neuer such a Doctor, has giuen me a purgation” (LION). The trial of Dr. Lopez seemed to capture the attention of the English people, and, as a result, is represented in many other literary works of this period. It seems doubly shocking because the attempted murder was on the Queen, but also because it fuelled a hatred of the Jewish community that had been simmering for some time in England. At the trial itself, the crowd was just as interested that Lopez renounce his religion as to apologize to the Queen. Lopez apparently declared on the gallows that he “loved the Queen as well as he loved Jesus Christ” (Harrison, 579). This remark from a know Jew caused quite a commotion from the crowd.

Although the trial of Dr. Lopez is a clear connection to Shylock’s own trial, a less obvious connection can be drawn to the Elizabethan idea of the humors, as well as the ancient Greek idea of the transmigration of souls. Gratiano tells Shylock that he possesses all the less than admirable qualities of a wolf; “Thy currish spirit / Governed a wolf… / And wilst thou lay’st in thy unhallowed dam / infused itself in thee” (4:1:134-137). Although the movement of spirits from one body to another was not recognized in Christianity, it was tolerated by non-orthodox Jews and is found in the Kabala. Gratiano mocks Shylock’s religion once again, but also toys with the Elizabethan idea of natural order.

According to the Columbia Encyclopedia, the Jewish association with the transmigration of souls stems from the belief that all souls are themselves pure, and it is only objects in the material world that cause these souls to become tainted. Much like present-day Buddhism, Jews believe that the impious atone for sin by another incarnation on Earth; “if the pious suffer, it is believed to be for sins committed in a previous existence” (Columbia, 2775). The idea of the transmigration of souls does raise an interesting philosophical question. Gratiano tells the audience “that souls of animals infuse themselves / Into the trunks of men” (4:1:132-133); does this infusion alter Shylock’s guilt or innocence? If Shylock has the devious and deceitful soul of a wolf inside him as punishment for a pervious life’s transgressions, then he cannot be held responsible for being more wolfish than the next individual, can he? Forgiveness does not come easily to any character in “The Merchant”; however, it does not come to Shylock, at all. The reader must remember that Shylock only asks for the penalty for the forfeiture of his bond. His harsh treatment at the hands of Portia, the only character who espoused “the deeds of mercy” (4:1:202), further complicates, and perhaps validates, Shylock’s wolfishness. Is the wolf the problem or the humans surrounding it? Shakespeare uses the ambiguities of both the trail of Dr. Lopez, and the somewhat un-Christian belief in the transmigration of souls to complicate the already complex issue of Shylock’s guilt, or innocence.

Shylock’s bizarre reference to slavery also has an interesting legal connection. He uses slavery as a defense for the ownership of the pound of Antonio’s flesh. Shylock emotes valiantly, “You will answer / ‘the slaves are ours.’ So do I answer you / The pound of flesh which I demand of him / Is dearly bought” (4:1:98-100).

Although Elizabeth publicly denounced the slave trade, Peter N. Williams, author of England, A Narrative History, writes that the Queen financially backed a privateer who sold slaves, “even lending him one of her ships in the enterprise that pitted her adventurous navigators against those of Spain, Portugal, and the Netherlands” (Williams). While Elizabeth allowed the salve trade, her courts were already forced to deal with the brutality that that trade produced. In 1569, less than thirty years before “The Merchant”, a lawsuit was filed against a Mr. Cartwright for beating a slave he had purchased. Strangely, the court ruled in favor of Mr. Cartwright citing that “English Common Law made no provision for slavery. The state did not recognize one person as the property of another” (Somerset). It seems that slavery did not exist in the eyes of English law. Shylock’s speech becomes far more political in this light. He asks if Antonio would “Let their beds / Be made as soft as yours” (4:1:95), in essence, asking if slaves should be considered equal. Shylock, assuming the answer no, draws to a natural, albeit grotesque, conclusion: a slave is nothing more than many pounds of flesh. Granted, the scene is set in Venice, however, the moral questions raised within the play are still offered by Shakespeare to the English population. The macabre conclusion focuses the audience on their own ownership of slaves. Are they any better than Shylocks asking for his or her pound of flesh?

William Shakespeare’s “The Merchant of Venice” displays an Elizabethan history soaked in fear, fear of litigious and societal degradation, fear of the inadequacies of law, and fear of religious intolerance. Dramatic political instability fueled this fear; it raised awareness of the necessity for concrete ties between morality and the law. Shakespeare’s play ties Christian religious morality to litigiousness while also connecting that same morality to the persecution of differing religious views. By connecting these juxtaposed ideals, Shakespeare crafts a political play that is just as relevant today as it was four hundred years ago.

Hello to all those Shakespeare Fans!

Just wanted to see if this would work.