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.

Birthing positions in medieval times

Welcome to smnet readers - oh for a resource like smnet when I was a student midwife. Mind you, we barely had colour TV then. Anyway, I hope you find it of some use and interest, your comments and participation are always welcome.  


Lying in a bed is probably the most unnatural way of all to give birth. Up till the last few hundred years (when operative interventions became more common) birthing chairs were often used  - even now, modern equivalents are available. Birthing chairs encouraged a physiologically more normal position for the labouring woman, and also allowed her bed (often a straw mattress) to remain clean. Well, sort of clean - apart from bedbugs, fleas and of course the odd chicken dropping.

This illustration is taken from The Rosengarten (roughly translated as The Rosegarden for Pregnant Women and Midwives), written by Eucharius Rosslin, a German physician. He wrote the book in the early 1500s specifically for midwives, in an effort to improve their practice. I've used the illustration for the cover of Midwyf.


He instructs that a chair should be made so that the mother might recline in it. The chair should be padded with cloths, he says, and the mother covered. At the right time, the covering should be removed and the mother turned from one side to the other. The midwife is to sit in front of the chair and pay careful attention to how the mother is moving, controlling her legs with her hands previously coated with, for example, white lily oil, or almond oil. The midwife must encourage the mother with gentle words, exorting her to breathe deeply, and ensuring she takes nourishing food and drink, and massaging lightly just above the mother’s navel towards the hips. Last, but not least, Rosslin says, she should comfort the mother with the happy prospect of birthing a boy.

Jane Sharp's choice of a wet nurse

Jane Sharp has a lot to say about choosing a wet nurse. She says ‘... the mother’s milk is commonly best agreeing with the child; and if the mother does not Nurse her own Child, it is a question whether she will ever love it so well ... and without doubt the child will be much alienated in his affections by sucking of strange Milk, and that may be one great cause of Children’s proving so undutiful to their Parents.’

She further comments that many babies die because the nurses’ milk is bad. The choice of a wet nurse, she says, is crucial, and gives the following advice.

‘... beware you choose not a woman that is crooked, or squint-eyed, nor with a mishapen Nose, or body, or with black ill-favoured Teeth, or with stinking breath ... or the child will soon be squint-eyed by imitation ...’

Jane advocates a ‘...sanguine complexioned woman, her breasts and nipples handsome, and well proportioned ... not too tall, nor too low; not fat, but well flesht; of a ruddy, merry, cheerful, delightsome countenance. If the nurse use good Diet and Exercise, it will breed good blood, and good blood makes good milk; but let her forbear all sharp, sowr, fiery, melancholy meats, of Mustard and Onyons, or Leeks and Garlick; and let her not drink much strong drink, for that will inflame the Child, and make it cholerick: all Cheese breeds melancholy, and Fish is Flegmatick. Gross and thick air make gross blood, and heavy bodies and dull wits. Places that are near the Sea side, and Bogs, are very sickly.’

Breast feeding in the middle ages : Wet Nurses

Wet nurses were often employed in the middle ages to provide milk for babies whose mothers were unwilling or unable to breast feed. For example, wealthy and noble women often chose not to breast feed. Breast feeding is a natural contraceptive as the hormones that produce milk prevent ovulation – nature’s way of ensuring a mother can give her resources to nurture one child at a time. But noble women were expected to produce as many babies as possible to ensure a good supply of heirs.

Furthermore, breast feeding would probably cramp the style of these socially active women. I suppose the sight of the Countess of Wherever baring a breast at the King’s court to suckle a screaming child would be the medieval equivalent of breast feeding in Harrod’s today.

Wet nurses were also employed by ordinary working families, usually if the mother had died, or was for some other reason unable to produce enough milk. The alternatives to breast feeding – soaking rags in animal’s milk and squeezing them into the baby’s mouth, or tipping in milk from a horn cup – tended to result in a rather high infant mortality rate.

Wet nurses were often highly valued, especially in large wealthy households where they were usually regarded as one of the upper servants, and might stay with the family for years. Many life long bonds were formed between nurse and child.

The practice of wet nursing became less popular in the 19th century due in part to scares that diseases such as tuberculosis and syphilis could be transferred by breast milk. Better alternatives to mother’s milk slowly became available but children fed on these still had a much higher mortality rate than those who were breast fed.

The next blog will be about what Jane Sharp had to say regarding the choice of a wet nurse.