Witchcraft, herbalists and midwives

If a woman survived childbearing in the middle ages, she may well live longer than her husband. Even today, women tend to live longer than men. Probably many midwives were widows, living alone, vulnerable, and easy targets for blame and revenge. Some of these lonely women may have sought solace in their herbs, going on herb induced ‘trips’. Concoctions of herbs might be swallowed, or made into an ointment and rubbed into the skin. The base of the ointment was fat, maybe pig’s fat, but rumour had it the fat of stillborn babies was best. Stillborn babies were not buried in a churchyard, but in the countryside somewhere. The midwife was likely to know where. How easy it would be for her to dig up the tiny body and use the fat for her flying ointment!


The hallucinogenic effects of the drugs would mimic flight through the air, phallic objects – such as a stick of wood, or broomstick – and some sort of orgy or sexual encounter.

Or so it’s said. More on this next time.

‘Vapid balderdash!’ Midwives and witches.

 Midwives have long been linked with witchcraft, largely because of the work of anthropologist Margaret Murray. In the 1920s she wrote a book about witchcraft,which, she said, existed throughout Europe in the middle ages as a pagan religion, despite the church’s attempts to suppress it. Midwives, she said, were particularly likely to indulge in witchcraft and were often hunted down and executed as witches.

It is easy to see why, in the very superstitious middle ages, a midwife might be suspected of witchcraft. The midwife was probably highly skilled, especially in herbal medicine and the practicalities, the manouvres, of childbirth. She would be a valued member of the community, a useful and respected resident of the village or town. Her skills and knowledge influenced whether a mother and child lived or died, and so probably she was seen as holding considerable power. With power comes risk, and if women and babies died - or cattle became ill, or crops failed – superstitious villagers might well lay these calamities at her door, especially if she was not well liked.

Midwyf: Liza

Midwyf is now available from Amazon USA on the following link:
http://www.amazon.com/Midwyf-Liza-Valerie-Levy/dp/1451581211/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1282983443&sr=1-1

If you know of others who would also like a copy, it works out much cheaper to buy 4 copies (don't you just love my optimism!) - you get the 4th one free and also you save on postage. According to my calculations, each book then works out at just over £6

The year is 1339. Liza’s midwifery skills are needed by the inhabitants of Hollingham. Knowing this keeps the lonely old woman going, together with the occasional ‘trip’ to her long dead husband and children. But she makes one mistake, and the villagers begin to suspect she is using occult spells to harm them. She tries desperately to regain their trust, but time is running short. Rosalind, rich, lonely and naïve, wants to experience true love and falls in love with a monk, by whom she conceives a child. Liza and the Lady Isabella, Rosalind’s mother, must pick up the pieces. None of the three women will ever be the same again.

LIZA is the first book in the MIDWYF series, which tells the story of midwives, women and childbirth in England from medieval to modern times. Although it's a work of fiction, the midwifery is based, as far as possible, upon fact. I have woven the story around childbirth in those times - the herbs and potions, superstitions and practices.
I'm now writing the next in the series, MARGERY (provisional title) which tells the story of midwifery and childbirth in Stuart England, about 1630.

The last blog was about birthing chairs, as advised by a German physician, Rosslin, who published the Rosengarten - a best seller amongst midwives and the medical fraternity of the 16th and 17th centuries.

Rosslin considered midwives of his time to be responsible for many maternal deaths, and wrote this textbook for them. In fact, the Rosengarten was very much based upon the writings of the Greek physician Soranus, who practised medicine in Rome round about 100AD. (The original copy of Soranus’ writings is now in the Vatian library).

Much of the medical literature at that time was just rehashed and recycled from the great writers of Greek and Roman times, such as Aristotle and Galen, and Rosslin acknowledges the ancient authorship of much of the book. He also included new material, however, incorporating what he regarded as good midwifery practice, told to him, no doubt, by midwives. Perhaps there were some whose practice he respected, and to whom he would listen. Up until relatively recently, midwives have had a bad press, often described as ignorant, dirty and drunk most of the time. 

I'll come back to this in later blogs, but for now I'll just say that the Rosengarten became a best seller in Germany. The fact that this book was widely used by midwives indicates they were probably far more literate than widely believed. One of the reasons sometimes given as to why medieval women were not allowed to study at universities is that they said to be were illiterate, but this seems by no means always to have been the case.

The Rosengarten was translated into English and published in 1540 under the title of “The Byrth of   Mankind”. It was dedicated to Queen Catherine Howard, one of King Henry's wives, fated to die on the scaffold two years later.