Had the Queen Lived:

by Raven A. Nuckols

  Childbearing in the sixteenth century was a brutal and grueling process, one that was potentially lethal to both mother and child. Many children did not survive past infancy. The infant mortality rate was incredibly high due to medical standards being very low, and the overall birthing process being not well understood by most. Safe delivery of the child depended on the skill of a midwife, the healthy constitution of the mother, and divine providence. Religion played a significant role to all involved. It provided one of the only real comforts available for the mother.

  The birthing chamber had to be prepared for delivery weeks in advance. For the expectant mother, the “lying in” process was a significant and formalized ritual. She would be inducted into the birth chamber, signifying the end of marital relations, for several weeks until the birth, and usually upwards of 40 days after. For a Queen, above all, the “lying in” was celebrated as an important rite. The Queen’s retinue of ladies, senior nobles, and their families were in attendance when the Archbishop performed the “lying in” ceremony.

  Because a Queen’s childbirth would result in an heir to the kingdom, the sex, health, constitution, and all other personal factors of the mother and child would be called divinely inspired. Her majesty took to her “lying in” period officially in late May with only her ladies attending her. Normally a Queen would take to her chamber several weeks prior to birth; however, Anne would take to her unofficial “lying in” chamber only 10 days before. The expectant mother would typically be placed near a fire for warmth, since cold was believed harmful to the body by bringing sickness and being near fire was thought to provide a physical barrier to evil spirits, but with the brutal heat of that summer, Anne insisted on changes to the ritual.

  Some of the attendants in the room thought she was mad for going against tradition and demanding the room be kept cool but she could have cared less. This was her pregnancy, her child and her comfort; she wanted it cool and so it was. Once the “lying in” had begun, men were not allowed near her and any male attendants were replaced by capable women, mostly midwives and their assistants, to care for the expectant mother. When Anne heard that preparations were being made for her “lying in” chamber, she demanded that it match the level of cool air that her own chamber had, or she was going to give birth right there in her bed. It took another day and a half of preparation, but the midwives attendants did as the Queen commanded and by the time Anne made her way down the hall to the “lying in” room it was just as she ordered. With that, according to legend, she said “good, now I can give birth to my son.”

  The process of childbirth during this time was a delicate ritual understood by few men, which contained part mystical and part religious rights to be observed for the birth of a new child. Unbeknownst to the women of the time, several of the special requirements of the “lying in” chamber had real, practical benefits to mother and child. The white linen that was favored for the room, chosen for its symbolic purity, would also ensure cleanliness, although these hygienic implications were unknown at the time. Additionally, the white material was dye-free and thus was both hypoallergenic and would further reduce the likelihood of infection.

  Unfortunately, few comforts were provided for pregnant women in those days, and royalty was no exception. A cross was placed within the sanctity of the birth chamber so that the mother could pray to God for the safe, speedy and healthy delivery of the child. Prior to the Reformation, English women also prayed to the Saints for a healthy child and safe delivery.

  There was little else to ease suffering during the pains of birth, as there were neither antibiotics nor pain medications of any real use in England at that time, although primitive apothecaries provided “medicinal remedies” in the form of herbs which provided no real relief. Apothecaries dispensed these so-called medicines, as an early equivalent to a modern day pharmacy, and served as a general place for medical counsel. For the poor, an apothecary was far cheaper than calling for a physician that many could not afford.

  Physicians in those days advised herbal remedies based on traditional folklore passed down for generations. These plants and herbs, including roses, aquilegia, meadow plant, and others were used to moderate pain, encourage the smooth delivery of the child, and even inspire more breast milk production by the mother. Reference guides for physicians were still very primitive, probably for fear of printing any material that could be perceived to be of an obscene nature, even when greater precision was necessary, even essential, for health reasons. Gynecological books of that period often reflect a romantic and unrealistic view of the process.

  A midwife and her attendants were trained in the delicate art of childbirth, and those fortunate enough to be selected for royal service were ladies of the utmost standing in their family line. Training was passed down to select apprentices, making their service prestigious and invaluable. Technically, they were required to be licensed, participate in the church, and embody a deeply religious background. The licensing requirements were imposed during Henry’s time and could well have been established to show compliance with the policies of the Reformation. One of the midwife’s vital duties was emergency baptism. The rite was performed in case the infant should die prematurely, without a proper christening, to ensure that a child’s soul would be saved should a Priest not be readily available. This infant baptism was solely a reformist principle. It later became a tenant of the Ten Articles officially establishing evangelical doctrine in England. It was vital to the aristocracy to employ some semblance of control over those who were assisting in birth; it also showed how well-connected royal persons were to have reputable ladies as experienced midwives about them.

  As a senior advisor to the King, Cromwell too continued to have a prominent role in the preparations. Cromwell had in his possession the Bible of Midwifery, which had been used by royal families for generations to pass down advice, superstitions, and strict rules of governance regarding childbirth. One main contributor was none other than Henry’s own grandmother, the Lady Margaret Beaufort. She believed in strict rules of observance and that any deviation from those set birthing policies fail, it would displease God. While she was alive she enforced these rules to the smallest degree. Katherine’s attendants had also added to the book during her deliveries. It was typically kept in the safe keeping of the state minister, hence how Cromwell became its guardian, and was only to be used for preparation of the “lying in” and delivery.

  3.2 Cometh an Heir

  On May 21st, 1536, Anne began experiencing heavy cramps. Concerned that this could potentially be a bad sign, she called for her midwife immediately. At her request, Anne immediately set in motion plans for her ladies to begin the “lying in” process, without the pomp and ceremony that had accompanied Elizabeth’s arrival. Should Anne or the child be in danger, there was no time for such novelties. During the last three months of a Queen’s pregnancy, the midwife was living at court in case of such emergencies. The “lying in” took place that afternoon after the Queen was moved from her chambers to the birth room. The midwife, her assistants, and supplies took less than an hour to prepare. The cramping continued through the late evening.

  After examining the Queen, the midwife found no damage to the child. Anne was just experiencing some early contractions; the midwife recommended Anne change her breathing style and her ladies keep her as comfortable as possible. They called for herbal remedies to help Anne sleep and ease her discomfort. The following morning she awoke rested and rejuvenated, the cramps had subsided, and she insisted on continuing her plans of renovating the religious houses. The midwife resisted Anne’s attempts to exert herself and carefully thwarted those who could obtain access to her, for example, blocking the interference of Lord and Viscount Rochford, who could otherwise bring Anne diversions from the outside, which could not only contaminate the birthing chamber but excite the Queen into premature labor. The King was made aware of Anne’s condition and celebrated with his men, toasting t
o the health of mother and child. He took his nobles out hunting that day in celebration. For her sake and her child, Anne’s physicians advised her to stay in her chambers until the contractions started.

  On the outside, Viscount Rochford had initiated a public relations campaign to mitigate negative reactions towards the Queen. With Cromwell’s coordination, the King’s subjects were given free wine, quilts, bread and meats, all generously delivered whilst plays were put on for the people, showcasing the religious reforms and poking fun at the Pope. Plans for a museum at the Tower of London housing the royal jewels were also drawn up at Anne’s insistence, as a means of retrieving revenues lost from Cromwell’s recent monastery diversions. These funds were then used towards educational/poor trusts of her choosing. An added benefit was to bring the people more in touch with their heads of state. During her confinement Anne and her attendants had made beautiful quilts for the poor. Henry embraced these examples of his wife’s activism and received letters about Anne’s activities while she was confined so that he might publicly insist that it was his idea to show the people such Christian charity.

  On June 17th, while already “lying in”, Anne reported more intense contractions. Due to her delicate condition, and the possibility of causing premature labor, her ladies kept her occupied by sewing, reading, dancing, praying, card playing and conversing on the Queen’s vision of reformation. She debated scripture with her attendants and sought theological opinions from them, rare behaviors for a Queen. She listened intently to their ideas, some appealed to her, others did not. Intently focusing on the child she was to bear, she let any slights go for the time being, but would catalog them for future use, should the need arise.

  Twelve days later, around 1 P.M. of June 29th, 1536, Anne went into labor. The contractions were sudden, intense, and quick with the labor lasting only 34 minutes. This delivery went much easier than her first. The midwife rejoiced and cried out ”Your Majesty has given birth to a son!” as the ladies in the room burst into tears, followed by laughter and applause. Queen Anne had, at last, birthed the precious Tudor son that would secure the dynasty. She burst into tears, joining her ladies in praising God, and called for King Henry. The Prince was immediately christened by the midwife, as a precautionary measure; but this time, there was no need. The child was healthy and able, of moderate length and weight, about seven pounds. He had received Henry’s bright blue eyes, and showed signs of Anne’s dark hair.

  The King was immediately notified by her chief lady-in-waiting, Madge Shelton, as she ran past the Yeoman shouting the news, interrupting a session of the Privy Council to tell the King in exasperation that he had a son. Typically, news of the birth would reside with the King’s Chief Groom, but Madge disregarded ceremony for value of the news she would deliver.

  The King immediately slammed his fists on the table and a laughed heartily with joy. He ran over and hugged Madge, thanked God, and shouted at his men ”I have a son! I have a son! God has not abandoned me! Bless His mercy I have a son!” As the men cheered and exchanged hugs at the securing of the dynasty, the King ran to the Queen’s birth chamber to welcome his son. He grabbed Anne and with a strong hug and kiss thanked her for her blessing and her duty, then laughed and roared ”Bring him to me, I want to see my SON!” The midwife appeared at once, bringing the baby boy into his father’s arms as he began to weep, holding his heir. This account was witnessed and chronicled by the midwife attendant, Shellie Flatley.

  The Queen told the King that the child had not yet been named, and she had left that honor to him. “I shall name him Henry, that he too may someday be King Henry of England. Go and tell the printers to announce the birth, I want the whole of the kingdom to share in the joy of this day.”

  Embracing his son, Henry and Anne shared a kiss. One final exam of the Queen and child gave them both clean bills of health. The midwife assured the couple of the Prince’s good posture and lack of any visible signs of health problems. The King inquired into the Prince’s christening, had he been fed yet, had he cried much after his birth, how blue his eyes were, and all the details that fascinate the parent of a new child. The heir Prince reinvigorated Henry, who had not felt so sprightly and in control of his destiny in years. The gamble had been worth it; Anne had done her duty and was now untouchable. She had her midwife bring her father and brother to meet their new family member and celebrate with her and Henry. The two were now the proud parents of the next Tudor king.

  3.3 Promises of Joy…

  The evening of the Prince’s birth the royal family held a magnificent festival in the Great Chamber with all the nobles, courtiers and retainers invited to dance, rejoice, and toast the new Prince. There were hundreds of people who ate at the King’s pleasure and expense daily, putting an enormous burden on the kitchen staff, but these celebratory feasts went so far as to be endurance tests for all involved. Kitchen staff worked constantly to provide main course after main course, and so many were served in a single setting that it was not uncommon for those attending to periodically induce vomiting to make room for later courses. This feast is documented to have included venison, mutton, chicken, fowl, crawfish, eel, capons, partridge, oxen, pork, beef, herons and even peacock.

  The Queen was not in attendance, as she was still in “churching,” mode, one of the rituals accompanying childbirth in the 16th century. Churching was performed to ensure that there were no complications with the mother or the child and usually lasted around 40 days, long enough to ensure that she had been thoroughly cleansed and purified to be released back into society and ultimately back into marital relations again. For royal women and especially Queens, churching was an elaborate ceremony dictated by strict rules governing how a Queen was to be removed from her “lying in” process and re-introduced back into her duties as Queen of state.

  Once a woman—especially a Queen—delivered a child, a ceremony was performed notifying all and sundry that she was ready to be reintroduced back into marital relations. This was mainly done to protect the health of the mother and protect the integrity of the lineage. The utmost security was also ensured, with all Yeomen, and even additional hired guards standing watch. Only four hundred persons of the court were allowed to be in attendance when the Prince was near. As the print shops went about quickly making the birth announcements, clergy set about ringing church bells, and councilors notified diplomats, dignitaries and foreign leaders of the news. In addition to the announcements, the King at once commissioned from Master Holbein a painting of his son—only three days old—to be made available en mass for his people.

  Elizabeth was brought by Lady Salisbury from Hatfield to meet her new brother. The three-year-old Princess took quickly and kindly to her new brother, wanting to hold him and touch him, attempting to understand who he was to her and how delicate he was. Anne’s brother George informed the Queen how the affair went. During her churching, Anne instead celebrated with her maids in the “lying in” chamber, toasting to all with good cheer.

  Henry showed how important this birth was to him by diving into detailed preparations for even the most intimate details of the Prince’s christening ceremony at Westminster Abbey. He reviewed safety concerns, gifts, foods, entertainment, and other areas. He personally wrote letters following the announcements to King Francis of France and Spain’s king, the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V, gushing about the birth. He then chose the Lord Rochford, the Duke of Suffolk, and Cromwell to serve equally as godfathers. No one served as Godmother this time around. Anne had wanted Lady Madge Shelton, a lady-in-waiting and her cousin, to be made Godmother, but she was not of noble blood and so her request was denied. Anne did have some say in the ceremony, personally visiting the Prince often to monitor his feeding and sleeping schedule, and with her personal tailor she selected his christening gown. Henry chose the Duchess of Suffolk to walk the Prince down the aisle towards the baptismal altar followed by the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting and several high ranking members of
the clergy and Privy Chamber. A few days later the new Prince, the first who would be born into leadership of the Church of England, was prepared for his official christening.

  The ceremony took place in the Nave of Westminster on July 2nd at six in the evening, with Archbishop Cranmer officiating. All of the court of London was invited, including foreign Ambassadors, dignitaries, nobles, and courtiers, to bear witness to the prize of the Tudor crown. Unlike at Anne’s coronation, the streets were lined with thousands of people, all hoping to catch a glimpse of the future King. Shouts of joy and cheer were heard for miles leading up to the procession en route to the church. Nevertheless, it was one thing to finally celebrate the birth of the royal heir; however, embracing the Queen was another matter entirely and it would take time for the people to feel warmth for Anne, as well, if at all.

  Interestingly, considering the importance of the occasion to the witnesses present, official custom forbade their majesties from attending the christening. As such, the King stood next to the bed at the palace where Anne continued her “lying in”, awaiting the moment when they would receive the Prince afterward. Both the King and Queen were wearing their official robes of state since this was a formal occasion. Elizabeth was also at the ceremony with her Governess.

  Very strict guidelines dictated how guests were to be arranged in the halls, chamber, and church. Their every movement was choreographed, as if an elaborate dance, with each guest fully understanding well ahead of time where they were to be during the ceremony. Guests were arranged by their title, dressed accordingly, with their retainers and servants wearing their masters liveries, occupying standing room only. The Godfathers and European Ambassadors walked last to the church, following the officiating members of the clergy, with the Grooms of the King’s Privy Chamber guiding them to their proper places. Lord Rochford was given the honor of carrying Prince Henry into the church prior to turning him over at the church doors to the Duchess of Suffolk who would carry him to the altar. The procession just to get to the altar took two hours, it was eight in the evening by the time Cranmer began his blessings.