English Travellers of the Renaissance

In Short

This book explores the evolution of the "Grand Tour" and its precursors, detailing how young Englishmen traveled to the Continent to refine their manners, gain diplomatic experience, and acquire modern accomplishments. By examining contemporary guidebooks, personal correspondence, and travelogues, the author illustrates the tension between the desire for foreign polish and the fear of losing one’s English identity to "Italianate" decadence or Catholic influence. It remains a essential resource for understanding how European exposure shaped the social, political, and intellectual life of the English Renaissance.

The Story

The practice of sending young Englishmen abroad begins as a strategic investment of the state. During the reign of Henry VIII, the Crown provides financial support to promising scholars and courtiers, such as Mason and Thomas Smith, so they may serve as ambassadors or public officials. At this stage, travel is a rigorous pursuit of humanism. The goal is to study at the great universities, master the classics, and observe foreign governments to improve the administrative and military capabilities of England. The traveler is encouraged to be like Ulysses: to see many cities, study foreign strengths and vices, and return home with fresh ideas for the betterment of the commonwealth.

However, a cultural conflict soon arises. As these young men return, they introduce foreign fashions, perfumes, and habits that shock the traditionalists at home. Satirists and moralists mock these "Italianate Englishmen" for their affected gait, their French accents, and their penchant for wearing clothing deemed too gaudy or effeminate. A deep-seated commercial jealousy among English weavers and haberdashers fuels this resentment, as they perceive these imported luxuries—like knit stockings or perfumed gloves—as evidence of a declining national character. The fear is that the traveler has not gained wisdom, but has merely traded his English identity for "French vices and brags."

By the turn of the seventeenth century, the focus shifts again. Religious tensions intensify as the English government worries that young men traveling to Italy will fall under the influence of Jesuits. Licenses become more restrictive, and authorities struggle to keep travelers from drifting toward Rome. Meanwhile, the ideal of the "gentleman" changes. The Tudor enthusiasm for deep, classical book-learning fades in favor of a more courtly, active education. France replaces Italy as the favored destination, not for the study of ancient texts, but for the mastery of physical arts: riding the "great horse," fencing, dancing, and vaulting.

The rise of the French academies in the seventeenth century formalizes this shift. For a set price, a gentleman’s son can reside in a college-like environment, learning the social graces and physical skills necessary for success at court or in camp. Intellectual pursuits are relegated to a lower status; the goal is to "read men as well as books." By the eighteenth century, the focus on self-improvement through travel gives way to the "Grand Tour" proper. As the romantic spirit takes hold, figures like Thomas Gray prioritize the aesthetics of landscapes over the intricacies of human character. Ultimately, the scholarly, moralistic guidebooks of the Renaissance are replaced by the practical, itinerary-based guidebooks familiar to modern readers, marking the transition of travel from a duty of the state to a leisure activity for the wealthy.

How It Unfolds

The royal investment The narrative opens by framing travel as a state-sponsored educational project, where the Crown funds young scholars to gain practical experience abroad. This sets the expectation that the traveler’s duty is to serve his Prince by observing the military and social arrangements of foreign powers.

The influx of influence The argument moves to the cultural reaction, where returning courtiers import French and Italian fashions, triggering a backlash from critics who view these refinements as effeminate and un-English. This section captures the tension between the desire for sophisticated grace and the conservative defense of traditional English austerity.

The religious friction The study shifts to the political anxieties of the late sixteenth century, focusing on the fear that young travelers will be seduced by Jesuits in Italy. It highlights the government’s futile attempts to regulate travel through restrictive licenses and the constant struggle of the individual to bypass these constraints.

The shift to the academy The focus turns to the seventeenth-century movement toward France, where the ideal of the scholar-diplomat is supplanted by the gentleman of action. Detailed descriptions of riding academies and the curriculum of physical accomplishments demonstrate how the definition of a "complete education" moved away from books.

The end of the era The book concludes by examining the transition into the eighteenth-century Grand Tour, where the romantic appreciation of nature eclipses the Renaissance concern for civic improvement. It notes the birth of the modern guide-book, signaling that travel has moved from a rigorous, dangerous task to a standardized, leisurely pursuit.

The People

The book relies on a diverse cast of historical figures to illustrate its points. Thomas Smith and Mason represent the early, state-sponsored scholar, whose foreign experience is intended to transform them into effective ambassadors for the English Crown. In contrast, the Earl of Oxford and the unnamed "friskers" of Henry VIII’s court embody the controversial side of travel; their adoption of foreign clothes and manners makes them social targets but sets the trend for the fashionable elite.

Nicholas Ferrar appears as the ideal, diligent student who uses his travels to master diverse languages, crafts, and medical knowledge, serving as a counter-example to the vain, idle youth. Lord Zouche captures the frustration of the traveler caught between his desire for adventure and the restrictive, often confusing, licensing laws of the state. Lord Chesterfield represents the later, paternalistic era, providing meticulous, often harsh, instructions to his son on how to navigate the social pitfalls of Paris while avoiding the "low company" of his own poorly educated countrymen. Finally, Thomas Gray marks the arrival of the romantic era, showing a marked decline in humanistic interest, preferring the wild, "terrific" beauty of nature to the social and political engagement that defined his predecessors.

In Its Own Voice

"For a traveller may be of the greatest benefit to his own country by being able to compare its social, economic, and military arrangements with those of other commonwealths."

This passage summarizes the primary argument that travel was originally intended as a civic duty.

"A little apish hat couched faste to the pate, like an oyster."

Gabriel Harvey uses this description to ridicule the extreme, foreign-influenced fashions of the "Italianate" Englishman.

"I would not have you too studious, for too much contemplation spoils action, and Virtue consists in that."

The Earl of Newcastle offers this advice to his royal pupil, illustrating the seventeenth-century shift away from book-learning toward physical and social grace.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book investigates the tension between personal development and national identity. It asks whether a society can truly benefit from the "fresh ideas" brought home by travelers without also sacrificing the cultural integrity that keeps it distinct. The author argues that Renaissance travel was a serious, often precarious intellectual endeavor, fundamentally different from the leisure tourism that followed. The book maps the evolution of the "gentleman" as a social construct, arguing that this ideal was forged in the heat of constant negotiation between English domestic traditions and the irresistible, sophisticated pull of Continental culture. It is an exploration of how a nation attempts to control the influence of the "other" while simultaneously striving to become part of a larger, more modern world.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of ideas or the social history of the Renaissance will find this book particularly rewarding. It provides a rare, clear-eyed look at the mechanisms—both state-sanctioned and social—that dictated the lives of young men centuries ago. For those who enjoy reading about the "Grand Tour" or the history of education, the book is a treasure trove of original anecdotes, ranging from the practical (the cost of fencing lessons) to the absurd (the mockery of "desperate hats").

The writing is warm and scholarly, though the reader should be prepared for an academic tone that assumes some familiarity with the period. The book relies heavily on primary sources, frequently quoting archaic spelling and phrasing from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, which provides an authentic texture but may require a patient reading pace. It is not a light, modern narrative; it is a dense, well-documented essay that demands careful attention. However, for anyone curious about the origins of the "educated traveler" or the specific anxieties that have always accompanied the meeting of different cultures, this work remains a thoughtful, precise, and entirely un-hyped guide to a formative chapter in Western history.