As a boy, I felt adults didn't understand children; I promised myself I would remember what it was like. For whatever reasons, Nicholas Orme, a prolific emeritus professor of history at Exeter University, has a strong interest in reconstructing childhood in past eras. He previously wrote a book titled Medieval Children and another about medieval children's poetry. In this finely illustrated book about a previously neglected topic, his superb research is matched by his curiosity about all aspects of children's lives in the period, and by his consistent empathy for them (“The ground is closer when we are small” [63]). He brings the past to life in an engaging way, while also offering a thorough scholarly apparatus.

Continuity is one of Orme's themes: continuity with the pre-Tudor past, and even continuity into our own times. Tudors accepted medieval beliefs in the seven ages of man, including infancy, childhood, and adolescence. The church and legal authorities showed a special interest in youth, from puberty to adulthood. Table manners taught to children were similar to today's, and were valued as reflecting good breeding. However, if someone sneezed, children were taught to say “Christ help.” Tudor children played “hot cockles”; Orme played it himself in the 1940s. Nursery rhymes were sung as certain games were played, as they still are today. That gives us a glimpse of oral transmission of culture over generations of children. Words set to music have a prolonged half-life. Children's games might reflect current events—in 1548, for example, some boys divided into old and new religion teams and fought it out. “It ended when one boy made a gun from an old candlestick, charged it with gunpowder and stone,” and killed a calf (87).

As Orme freely admits, given the unrepresentative nature of archival evidence, this is mostly a book about Tudor children of the nobility and gentry—the Tudor 1 percent. One is forced to look for one's keys under the street lamp, as it were. It is important to bear this in mind while reading the book. For instance, one often learns about Tudor child-rearing books, when the vast majority of parents could not read. Orme does show compassion toward the Tudor poor and their children.

The teaching of Latin changed substantially, as it replaced medieval religious texts with the classics. “Studying these writers promised to provide new information and skills, and to reunite the countries of Europe into sharing a common standard of Latin” (138). According to Orme, “children's literature can be traced back in England to . . . the school dialogues of Ælfric of Eynsham and Ælfric Bata,” from a millennium ago (189). Many Tudor stories appealed both to adults and to children. Just as into the present, “much adult literature is suitable for children, and works meant for children may also be read by adults” (189). One thinks of the fairy-tale qualities of Shakespeare's late romances, which can appeal to all ages. Shakespeare's plays illustrate many of Orme's observations, throughout the book. One thinks of Prospero when Orme notes that ending one's life as a hermit characterized many medieval tales, as well as the Tudor version of Valentine and Orson. The Reformation led to critiques of children's games and reading as fostering immoral thoughts and behavior. Even William Tyndale attacked the clergy for allowing children to read Robin Hood and other tales “so filthy as heart can think, to corrupt the minds of youth withal” (quoted on 186).

In his final chapter, “Reflections,” Orme makes several cogent summary observations. Due to the limitations of extant evidence, “it is impossible to state concisely what Tudor childhood was like” (227). It is increasingly acknowledged that early modern England made no sharp break from the medieval past, and Orme, a medievalist, underlines that the Tudor period “was far from being the new age so often assumed” (228). For example, “some of the most popular tales among adults and children were of medieval origin” (184). Parental authority, educational institutions, and religious obligations had significant continuity—despite the Reformation, numerous medieval religious practices survived. Orme concludes with a warning illustrated by a snowball fight among Tudor children: “We gain a narrower and poorer understanding of Tudor society if we do not include them” (230).