| Welcome to For King and Court. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| locked up safe and dry; tag: LC! <3 | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 27 2010, 07:34 PM (168 Views) | |
| Sally Fleet | Nov 27 2010, 07:34 PM Post #1 |
|
Unregistered
|
[align=right]A few days before Yuletide, 1511; 2.45pm[/align] She had been a busy woman, starting with accepting the Duke of Suffolk's assignment, and finishing off with another round of calls. So much had happened in the last few hours that her head had been reeling-- she had gone back to her cottage for a short while, to rest up and renew her energy. Then she had gone back to Hampton court to respond to a letter that had been sent by Catherine, countess of Warwick. How word seemed to spread that she was a competent and capable midwife, and not only that, she was in no danger of being discovered by anyone. Edward Seymour had supposed right in choosing her to spy on a cardinal, for few people would question her presence, especially if she dressed in the garb of most servants. However, Sally did not dress as a servant; she wore her distinctive red cloak that few could miss, though her grey shift dress rendered her all but invisible. After all, few paid attention to the dark haired woman that now stood in the Countess's room. There was something innocent and extremely naive about the women of court. How could they not expect to fall pregnant when most women fell pregnant soon before, or after the sound of nuptial bells. In Sally's village, many brides who were of the lower classes wed with belly round and proud. It was a sign that she was able to give her husband strong sons, for in the villages, sons and daughters were both expected to help with the harvest and the upkeep of the home. There were teachings that pregnancy before marriage was a sin, but Sally knew very few of her class truly cared about that. As long as they produced strong and healthy sons, it didn't matter. "My lady, from what you have told me, you are indeed with child." It was all that needed saying, for Sally was blunt and direct when it came to delivering such news. "If you miss your courses twice, it is a general sign that you are with child, and as such, you ought to inform your husband that you have successfully conceived an heir." She had attended many births since that first one when she had been so very young; she was aware of the dangers that the woman could face when brought to childbed. Yet for all that she had known of birthing, she was not yet a mother, though she had made many other women mothers. It was a fine line to walk-- she had her many herbs and skills, yet she chose to masquerade as a Christian out of sheer practicality. |
|
|
| Catherine Willoughby | Nov 29 2010, 03:19 AM Post #2 |
![]()
vérité sans peur
|
Having summoned the midwife to her apartments, not knowing who she was, just asking around about a name and for some information, Catherine was not exactly surprised when the woman--someone she had never, ever come in contact with, someone she was rather surprised at speaking to for she rarely spoke to servants, commoners, those below her in station--confirmed her beliefs. They had greeted each other, Catherine glancing her up and down, thinking this Sally Fleet was not much like what she had imagined: young, pretty, even well-dressed for someone who was simply a midwife, no more than that. For someone married, it was rather shameful, she knew, to be so ignorant about such things. Catherine had not been told much by her mother, whose duty it was to make sure her daughter had been educated in not only what was expected of her as a wife but what to expect, including pregnancy. The only way she figured she may have been was when, suspiciously, these last two months her monthly course had not arrived, something that visited her every month without delay and had for years. Knowing that could be a sign a woman was with child, she had called upon the midwife before she had to steel herself to tell her husband the news, worrying about all the implications of childbirth, how she had seen a woman die from lack of care, how she had seen the poor little Prince die while little Princess Margaret, by grace of God, thrived... Catherine just nodded a few times, her gaze rather vacant, remembering all the knowledge she did have of the situation she was presently in. So, then: what she did not want to happen had. "I thank you," she added blandly, forcing a little smile of politeness to her lips. "I-- I am sorry, I know I must seem very naive, I know little of such things. My mother never saw fit to tell me much." Her voice was embarrassed, meek thanks to it, as her blue eyes dropped to the ground much like a flustered child. "I had suspected as such," continued the lady who was really only a girl of eighteen, young in many ways, "yet I did not know for sure, and so I called for you. Thank you." Letting out a sharp sigh, breath exhaling, shoulders slumping slightly, she shook her head. She was not playing a grand lady, a countess with dignity and poise; she had disposed of it as soon as Sally told her what she suspected was true. There was no reason, she thought, to hide her fear and concern with this woman who would most likely be the one to help her through-out her time carrying this child in her belly, and then after. "Do you-- do you have any advice for me?" Surprising herself with her vulnerability with this stranger, Catherine had to admit to the midwife who surely expected such worries when childbirth was a dangerous event: "I am afraid. I have seen... these things... I have seen it not end well and I am afraid of it for myself." |
|
[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me." Catherine is in 2 threads. [/align] | |
![]() |
|
| Sally Fleet | Nov 29 2010, 03:45 AM Post #3 |
|
Unregistered
|
Sally had to wonder at the shameful practice of keeping women in the dark about their own bodies and what happened to them. How she blamed Catholicism, and was glad of her tutelage under so fortunate and wise a woman. She had never been mystified by the monthly courses, nor had sex ever been something that had been vaguely described. In some ways, she was glad for Agnes's common sense and practical approach to raising her. It certainly made her glad how unsheltered she'd been, when she faced women who were so ignorant and scared. Sally knew the Countess would come to rely upon her like many young and scared first-time mothers. It had been that way when Sally had left the village after Agnes died. "My lady, I require no thanks for merely confirming your suspicions." It was true. She really didn't expect a thank-you for the services she rendered. The girl's admission of naivety did not surprise her. It softened Sally's stance, and made her want to enfold the girl in her arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay-- that she would be on call whenever Catherine Dudley needed her. She wondered whether a hug would be acceptable, because it sure seemed like she could use one. The girl looked so vulnerable embarking on her big journey to being a mother-- and Sally would be there every step of the way if she wanted her to be. "Advice? It would be to eat plainly-- but not blandly. You need to feed both you and the babe in the womb. Do not be alarmed by some feelings that you may have." It was advice Sally had heard the wise crone repeat many times over to frightened women. It was practical and sensible advice. "Do not believe what the priest tells you about it being your failing if you loose the babe-- for that can happen within the first three months-- it simply means there was something wrong with the baby-- it is not a failing on your part." How Sally detested the priests who thought to encroach upon the final thing that was under the control of women. Midwifery was most definitely not the dominion of men, and never would be. "Drink an infusion of raspberry leaf tea every morning, and whatever makes you queasy-- do not force yourself to eat." She added, looking over the young countess, who still looked so young and frightened. Sally wondered whether it would be wise to apply for servants lodging in the palace, simply to be on call for any and all births that would come in the future. |
|
|
| Catherine Willoughby | Nov 30 2010, 01:14 AM Post #4 |
![]()
vérité sans peur
|
Having the midwife Sally here to answer her questions, oh, what a good idea that was. Catherine was glad it had come to her for she had not even considered speaking to someone about her worries, about what she should expect, about all the questions that never had been answered for her, instead those around her keeping her in the dark until it came time for her to find the answers herself. She nodded at Sally's words, taking in her advice, taking it to heart, wondering how on earth she would manage when absolutely nothing was appealing to her, yet she forced herself to choke down anything and everything put before her. It would have been rude otherwise. "My mother told me if such things happened, it was the woman's fault. Her sin. Something she did, even if she did not know, would--" Catherine stopped herself, shaking her head. "I had a brother who died before he was a year old, and then she lost more brothers and sisters...and she always told me it was her, that it was her failing." She hated talking about such things. It was always so sad when it happened. It had been nearly unbearable watching Queen Margaret struggle through a long, hard labor when the babies came early, watching one die, then watching the mother herself die. No prayers she lifted to the Almighty saved mother or babe. It left her utterly terrified that something would happen to her, that her prayers would not be answered, that God would take her too. "Why then do they tell us such things, if you say it is not so?" My poor mother, she thought, recalling Mary Willoughby white-faced the last time she lost a child, the strong woman--the strongest person Catherine ever knew, even now--reduced to tears as she explained to her ten year old daughter it was God's will, that it was her sin. But what? What God would kill a child for a sin the mother did not even know she had committed? Thinking upon it made Catherine, who found herself increasingly emotional at any little thing that could come her way, blink back the tears that stung her eyes. She looked away, hoping the midwife, so much wiser than her in the ways of women, would not see the tears. Catherine exhaled deeply, trying desperately to keep her good posture even though she felt exhausted. "I should have known much earlier," she murmured in a half-admonishment of herself. "I have been feeling so tired, and sometimes so ill, I could not believe it. I had no inkling that I was not ill but with child." Another pause before she mused, "My lord my husband will be happy. I hope he is..." A slight flush crept upon her cheeks as she reflected this surely would have happened sooner or later. It should not have surprised her so, considering what got women into this condition. |
|
[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me." Catherine is in 2 threads. [/align] | |
![]() |
|
| Sally Fleet | Nov 30 2010, 04:17 AM Post #5 |
|
Unregistered
|
Sally often wondered why the church tried so very hard to subjugate women and beat them into submission with rules and punishments that were very often little more than outright torture. The woman that stood before her was a great example of the papacy's decrees that a miscarriage was the fault of the woman, not the fault of nature. It certainly didn't help matters along when dealing with the frightened, first-time mothers who were simply expected to know, by virtue of their sex, what was expected of them when it came to the care and well-being of both themselves and the child they carried within their womb for nine months. Sally had found young women who were barely within the age of childbearing years who were sometimes more knowledgeable than the people of a class above her own. How she sometimes missed those years she had spent with the Turks, learning from them the secret art of midwifery-- after all that Agnes had taught her, there had still been much to learn. She also knew that if she told the girl before her what her true opinions of the papacy were, she would no doubt be banished forever from court and England. Sally was a heretic in the eyes of the current Queen, and she did not wish to incur scrutiny into something which she saw as entirely private and personal. Therefore, she simply spoke as a midwife, allaying the girl's fears. "Sometimes it's told to comfort themselves. That God did not see it fit to make them mothers. I personally feel that there is no fault to be assigned to either mother or father. It happens in animals-- occasionally-- though nature is to blame rather than God. The same applies to humans." Her words were spoken simply and without emotion. She was good at doing that-- she had learned well from the women of the east, and their methods of midwifery. Thank the goddess her granddaddy had sent her there. She would have loved to have remained-- yet her heart was in England, and with the people there. Sally could see that the Countess of Warwick was trying her hardest not to let her emotions get the better of her. She wondered what had made those emotions come on, aside from the weeping that most women had when with child. "Your emotions will be strange for the next nine months," she said gently, hoping she wasn't overstepping her bounds. |
|
|
| Catherine Willoughby | Dec 3 2010, 05:35 PM Post #6 |
![]()
vérité sans peur
|
Dumb nodding seemed to be the movement of the day for Catherine who did not have much to say after her own questions were out and answered. The midwife's words, however, took her slightly aback. Looking at her, she wondered absently if this woman had any children of her own, if she were married, or if she were like many who devoted their lives to their job of delivering babies into the world and eschewed all else. "But a woman's duty is to be a mother." The Countess's voice was small, her eyes unfocused in thought as she spoke. Why would God not wish for a woman to be a mother if it was the best thing a woman could do: bring life into the world? "It is a horrible thing to say, that it is because of your sin, when we are all sinners and still babies are born and women are well." What she said comforted her, a little. Meeting Sally's eyes, Catherine felt a strange sense of trust towards this woman--no more than a servant, truth be told--who would not tell her what she wanted to hear but what she needed to hear. Clearing her throat, it seemed a glaze came over her: she straightened, lifted her chin, blinked away the emotion in her straightforward gaze. She was assuming not the role of a frightened young woman, which she was, but of a noble lady who ought to be respected and look respectful. "I thank you for coming to me and explaining these things," she said, in quite a different voice. This was her way of indicating their meeting was over. She heard all she needed to. However, in quite the opposite of this rather pompous stature she had taken, Catherine smiled, appreciative now that she knew what was going on and that she would at least have someone to speak to. For a girl without a mother who could barely get the words 'with child' from her lips, that was more than enough to console her. [align=center]CLOSED[/align] |
|
[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me." Catherine is in 2 threads. [/align] | |
![]() |
|
| « Previous Topic · Winter 1511/1512 · Next Topic » |







6:35 AM Jul 11