Q & A with Amy Licence

Welcome to On the Tudor Trail Amy! Could you share with us a little about yourself and your background?

Hello Natalie, well, I was always interested in the Tudors. I started reading Jean Plaidy novels as a teenager, which made me want to get out all the Tudor biographies in the library- I did have a particular obsession with Anne Boleyn then. After doing a degree in Literature and really enjoying the Middle English texts, I did an MA in Medieval and Tudor Studies, based in Canterbury with its lovely old buildings and cathedral. I then taught for ten years but when I was at home with young children, I decided to try and put some of my ideas down on paper. I couldn’t really get out and about much so most of it was written at my kitchen table with a toddler running round me.

In Bed With the Tudors by Amy Licence

What inspired you to write In Bed With the Tudors: The Sex Lives of a Dynasty, from Elizabeth of York to Elizabeth I?

Actually, it was having my first son. I met lots of lovely new mums and was struck by the differences in their experiences of pregnancy and birth, which got me thinking about how women had coped in the past. The book started off as a history of childbirth and then expanded to include other aspects of the female experience. I was also interested to look deeper at that aspect of the lives of well-known figures such as the Tudor Queens, which seemed to be such a defining feature of their lives but was often quickly passed over in biographies.

In your book you write about a number of Tudor women, including Elizabeth of York, Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn. The Sixteenth century produced many remarkable women; do you have a favourite?

It’s so hard to choose just one. My interest was sparked as a teenager by the fate of Anne Boleyn- it’s so dramatic and appeals on so many levels. Anne was such a modern soul and suffered such a terrible fate in such a short space of time, that it’s impossible not to be moved by her. As I’ve got older, though, I’ve become increasingly sympathetic towards Catherine of Aragon. Writing about her hopes for motherhood and the string of miscarriages she suffered was really heart-breaking. Henry was so unbelievably cruel towards her and Mary yet she stood her ground. She fascinates me- sometimes I think she was very brave but at other times, I wonder whether it was her stubbornness that determined the fates of herself and her daughter and initiated the Reformation. She was prepared for herself and Mary to almost become martyrs to their cause. Just think how different things would have been if she had agreed to step aside in 1528.

Just how common was it for women in the sixteenth century to die in childbirth or from postpartum complications?

Not as common as we might assume, providing everything went smoothly. It has been estimated that there was around a 1-2% chance of maternal deaths per birth, although this increased with the more children a woman bore. The real dangers came when there were complications like breech births and women with small pelvises, when midwives just didn’t have much of a chance to do anything. There were no forceps, pain relief or caesarians. It was a question of push and pray, quite literally. If a woman survived the delivery, there was the greater risk of infection which carried off many, including Elizabeth of York, Jane Seymour and Catherine Parr. Basic errors of hygiene resulted in many unnecessary deaths as they didn’t understand things like germs, clean water and handwashing. Often it seemed like a mother was out of danger, a week or so after the birth, before the symptoms of something fatal could set in. By then it was too late.

We often hear about noble women ‘taking to their chambers’ for the lying in period. What did this process involve?

It was a complete seclusion from the world, a retreat into womb-like safety where the baby could be delivered. A chamber was prepared in advance, hung with tapestries and filled with all the equipment a woman needed- bed linen, clothes, religious artifacts etc. The windows would be covered, the key hole stopped up and a big fire kept burning, even in summer. A mother would enter it about a month before her due date, accompanied by her women. No men were allowed. After that, she would not emerge until about a month after the baby arrived. It must have been very boring, just sitting waiting but it gave her a chance to recover and all her female friends and relations would have rallied around. Some of the recorded celebrations after a child had been safely delivered became quite riotous, with women running up bills by ordering in food and drink, which the husbands then had to pay! The mother could later receive visitors but only came out to be churched, after which everything went back to normal. Needless to say, this was the case for noble women but the poor had to deliver their children wherever they could, by roadsides and in barns and fields!

Did Tudor midwives receive any formal training?

No. They learned on the job. There was no official discipline of midwifery and in England, male doctors and surgeons, who were trained from 1518 onwards in the Royal College of Physicians, were very suspicious of them. Most midwives held the position informally, with their reputations passed on through an oral network of women. Later in the century, manuals listed their desirable qualities, such as small hands, patience and strength etc. Most importantly, they were supposed to be of good character and their personal morality was valued more than their abilities.  This was partly because they were often called on to give evidence in court about illegitimate births. The church tried to restrict their more superstitious activities but it wasn’t until 1567 that the first formal oath was sworn by a midwife. I imagine that most towns and villages had a few well known “wise women” who would be called upon in the event of emergency- otherwise women had to make do with whoever was there!

What is the most interesting or peculiar fact you’ve learnt about the Tudors in your research?

I unearthed some truly terrifying remedies and recipes for women in childbirth. Most were just harmless herbal mixtures but cases where women tried to close up the neck of their womb with wax, as a form of contraception, filled me with horror. I really enjoyed including recipes for various ailments, from an Elizabethan manuscript that is in the possession of my family. Some of the ingredients were bizarre, like unicorn’s horn, frankincense and myrrh and a few of them had “probatum” written by them, meaning the writer had tried and tested them.

I love walking in the footsteps of the Tudors and visiting historic sites with a Tudor connection. Do you have a favourite Tudor location?

I do love Hampton Court. I went to University quite nearby and there was a bus that took me almost door to door, so I was a frequent visitor. I went there once early one January in the snow and it was practically deserted. A robin sat on the royal coat of arms outside the chapel and sang to me as dusk fell- it was magical.

Are you presently working on any Tudor books?

I’ve just finished a biography of Elizabeth of York, which I’ll be submitting to the publishers this week. I’ve really enjoyed going further back into the fifteenth century and researching her fluctuating fortunes through the Wars of the Roses. The book explores her roles as a mother and wife, as well as contemporary ideals of queenship. After that I’m turning my attention to Anne Neville, wife of Richard III. It’ll be interesting trying to consider her feelings about the controversial Richard; whether she believed him capable of killing the Princes in the Tower and exploring the rumours that he had her murdered. She was only in her late 20s when she died but she packed so much into that short space of time.

If you had the power to change the past and re-write Tudor history, which event would you choose to change?

I would love to see a parallel history where Prince Arthur survived. As Henry’s elder brother and first husband of Catherine of Aragon, he died in 1502 at the age of 16. I would love to see what would have happened if he had lived and fathered a brood of children of his own. What would Henry VIII have done instead? Entered the church? I know it means pushing aside one of our most charismatic monarchs but I can’t help wondering what sort of a king Arthur would have made and the effect it would have had on England. We’d probably still be a Catholic country!

Visit Amy’s blog here.