Saturday 16 October 2010

Birthing customs in Tudor England

In ‘Treasons’, Queen Madeleine is pregnant with Henry IX’s first child and the much-needed heir. It was the common belief that women were responsible for the sex of the unborn child. Men, of course, could not be seen to be anything other than the superior gender and the King, being the centre of the universe of the court, was the supreme symbol of manhood.

For many years, I have wanted to go back in time and tell Henry VIII the good news that the man’s chromosomes dictate the sex of the child and the mother has nothing to do with it. It would have been an interesting conversation.

In researching for the customs attendant on births in the Tudor era, I am indebted to David Cressy and his book “Birth, Marriage & Death: ritual religion and the life-cycle in Tudor and Stuart England”.

Royal and aristocratic birthrooms had to be snug, darkened and kept warm for the period of labour. One guide stated that the childbed woman “must be kept from the cold air because if is an enemy of the spermatical parts…and therefore the doors and windows of her chamber in any wise are to be kept close shut”.

The room would be hung with arras, tapestry hangings. In Hamlet, Polonius is stabbed whilst hiding behind an arras curtain. The doors would be guarded and the windows covered. It was believed that the woman’s mind would be distracted by light, so the room was designed to echo the womb by being warm, dark and comfortable, thus keeping evil spirits at bay.

The soon-to-be mother would be surrounded by female friends, called gossips – from the term god-sip, a sister in the Lord. In middle class houses, there was frequent complaint at the amount of money it took to feed and house all these women, but in royal circles, the gossips would be lodged nearby to the birthing chamber. Many priests, suspicious of this overwhelming femininity, would call for the pregnant woman to spend more time thinking about spiritual matters than being distracted by her friends. Not such a bad thing when many births ended with the death of the mother and the child.

When the time came for the Queen to retire to the chamber, she would be accompanied by all her ladies and gentlewomen, no man being permitted access. She would, in effect, be in purdah, until she had given birth and the father was presented with his newborn child.

Popular belief has maligned midwives as being drunken witches with few hygiene rules or otherwise painted them as having mystical ancient wisdom, countering patriarchal tyranny. Most midwives were respectable married women or widows who regularly attended church. They held a very important place in the household, being the only people who could touch the pregnant woman intimately. They would, in extremis, give the newborn baptism. It was also common for midwives to carry the baby to the font at its christening and attend the new mother at her churching – the purification and thanksgiving service for the new mother, celebrating her return to everyday life about six weeks after giving birth.

Tuesday 5 October 2010

Royal Servants in Tudor times

The archetypical modern view of servants is that they are downtrodden, exploited souls who have no option but to run around after someone else. Even as recently as the First World War, though, the attitude to being 'in service' was very different. Yes, you may be on call from 6am - 11pm, but you had a safe home, all the food you needed and, in the main, employers appreciated you because they knew they could not function without you.

In Tudor times, servants had immense influence and, therefore, power. Although Henry VII, a very private man, learned the hard way that the fewer people he trusted the safer he was, his successor was a very different man. Whereas Henry VII surrounded himself with people of lower status to ensure that they would not get ideas above their stations, Henry VIII had a wide circle of friends, men of standing, who came from noble families. There were always Howards, Greys and Talbots at court, in capacities as gentlemen of the bedchamber and the various posts around the King's 'bathroom' activities. In Great Harry's court, they had to be linguists with exquisite social graces, as well as having military training.

The King was the centre of everything at court - the primate, in the same way as the Elizabethans regarded the sun as the primate of the heavens because it was the brightest star. So there would be plenty of scrabbling on and over rivals to obtain the choice places, even if that meant wiping the royal bottom and bathing the mountain of flesh that Henry became in his later years. Why? A perfect opportunity to ask for favours either for themselves or their families. The young Henry was known to be indulgent and, on more than one occasion, when he had agreed a course of action with a minister, would then be persuaded to change his mind by one of his close servants. This frequently enraged Cardinal Wolsey, but constant attendance upon the monarch bred a closeness that made saying no difficult at times.

So next time you wrinkle your nose at the thought of some unfortunate courtier having to carry out Henry's bodily waste, think on. The courtier in question might just have been promised a nice rich widow or an estate stripped from a traitor. Then again, your sympathy might well be justified, because, when it came to his sense of self, Henry was just as likely to execute men he had counted as friends from childhood, if he thought they had crossed the line.

Friday 1 October 2010

Historical notes behind the Luke Ballard books

It's all very well writing an alternate history, but, unlike novels set in an unknown future, it still has to have a sound historic base. I am pedantic enough - and passionate enough about history to require as many historical facts that fit my premise to be as accurate as I can make them. Not always easy given a 500 year time lapse and the known inaccuracies of some "historians".

In reality, Anne Boleyn miscarried the boy child who would have been born around July 1534. Most historians have agreed that Henry VIII tired of Anne's imperious ways and quick temper. He was heard after her execution to say he was tired of women trained in the French court, which, of course, Anne had been. He sought refuge with Jane Seymour - who, incidentally, as David Starkey points out, managed to obtain in 6 weeks what it took Anne to achieve in 6 years, namely the crown.

However, Dr Suzannah Lipscombe has published "1536: The year that changed Henry VIII" in which she puts forward a compelling argument that Henry did not tire of Anne at all and a contemporary poem supports her point of view. In a nutshell, Dr Lipscombe quotes sources saying that in the autumn and winter of 1535, Henry and Anne were "merry together"and that as late as April 1536, Henry manoeuvred Chapuys, the Spanish ambassador to bow to Anne, therefore recognising her as Queen. It appears that rumour of Anne's behaviour reached a high official - probably Thomas Cromwell - who took the matter to Henry. Henry was so stunned by the accusations that he would not at first believe them, but then ordered an investigation warning that if the accusers were wrong, they would suffer death. To fully appreciate Henry's shock, we must remember that a 16th century cuckold was thought to lack sexual dominance and, of course, this would be unthinkable for Henry. So we are left with the intriguing question in our minds. Was Anne thrown to the wolves because the investigators preferred that she should die rather than they be proved wrong? There is no doubt that Henry VIII felt desperately betrayed and that this set the seed for the bloody tyrant who developed in his last ten years.

In the Luke Ballard books, Anne safely delivered her son in July 1534 and he is now Henry IX. I have a passing reference to Cromwell attempting to catch Henry VIII's eye with Jane Seymour, but the plan miscarrying and Anne biding her time before turning the tables on Cromwell and having him executed. In reality, he was executed for being unable to release Henry VIII from the marriage with Anne of Cleves. Anne Boleyn in my world is an elemancer, an extension of the commonly held belief that she was a witch. I like to think that Dr Lipscombe is correct and that, until very shortly before her unjust execution, Henry and Anne were happy together. Since the age of 14, I have believed her completely innocent of the accusations made against her.