By Paul Carrier
Britain's rich history is fertile ground for writers of historical
fiction. More often than not, such novels are set during the 1500s
(think Henry VIII and Elizabeth I) or, much later, during the Napoleonic
Wars of the early 1800s. The 17th century rarely makes the cut.
There are exceptions, thanks to authors such as Rose Tremain. Still, C. J. Sansom, S. J. Parris, Hilary Mantel, Patrick O'Brian and C. S. Forester are among the many writers whose historical novels focus on periods of English history that either preceded or followed the Civil War (1642-1651).
Not so Sam Thomas, whose mystery The Midwife's Tale takes place in 1644, as King Charles I and Parliament battle for control of the realm. Royalists loyal to the king command the garrison in York, but local leaders there have divided loyalties, with some of them supporting the rebel armies of Parliament that have laid siege to the city.
It is against that backdrop that Bridget Hodgson, a wealthy widow and midwife, finds herself investigating the murder of Stephen Cooper, a local merchant who was poisoned in his home. Bridget is a friend of Esther Cooper, the victim's widow, who is charged with murdering her husband. Esther is quickly convicted and sentenced to burn at the stake.
Bridget is convinced of Esther's innocence, and she is appalled by the hasty, irregular nature of the trial, during which Esther was not even allowed to testify in her own defense. Stephen Cooper was in league with the rebels, which may explain why the mayor of York, a ruthless royalist, set the wheels in motion to obtain a speedy conviction.
Esther gets a temporary stay when Bridget examines her in prison and notifies the mayor that she is pregnant. But Bridget's finding takes on added significance when the mayor threatens to ruin her and her prominent brother-in-law Edward unless she reverses herself.
As she searches for the killer, Bridget gets help from her new servant, Martha Hawkins, who turns out to be remarkably tough, sassy and street smart. Over time, Bridget comes to question whether Martha is something other than what she seems. The answer comes soon enough, and it quickly becomes clear that the mayor is not the only person in York who may be out to get Bridget. Two more murders follow, including that of a newborn child. Are they all linked?
Bridget's sleuthing reveals that Stephen Cooper had plenty of enemies. The city's royalists saw his allegiance to the rebels as treasonous. Moreover, Cooper had filed a lawsuit against a powerful local family, and he may have been on the verge of winning it. Finally, someone wrote to Cooper before his death threatening to expose his supposed misdeeds unless Cooper bought the extortionist's silence.
In addition to weaving a compelling tale that initially leaves readers guessing because there are several possible murder suspects, Thomas brings 16th century York to life, especially from the perspective of women in general and midwives in particular. In many ways, it is a world unlike our own.
The reader learns that "gossips" (friends) always attend to a pregnant woman during her "travail" (childbirth). We discover how hard life is for an unmarried servant who gives birth in that time and place, because her employer probably will fire her to avoid harboring a "wanton woman." A "bastard-bearing" mother faces an even worse fate if someone murders her child; she will be presumed guilty until proven innocent.
Bridget plays a fascinating role in the life of the city, both because she is a well-to-do "gentlewoman" and because, as a midwife, she has multiple, well-defined civic duties. They include investigating infanticide and getting her clients to identify the fathers of children born out of wedlock, to assure that they provide the 17th-century equivalent of child support.
"I ensured that men who fathered bastards had to pay for their children and that the women who bore them would be whipped," says Bridget, who is a woman both of her time and ahead of it. "If a maiden was raped, who but a midwife would stand with her against her assailant? Who better than a midwife could recognize the signs of bewitchment and the witch's mark? Without midwives, lust would reign, and order would turn to chaos."
Loosely modeled after an actual 17th-century York midwife, the fictional Bridget is a proper, God-fearing woman -- to a point. She also is tough-minded, tenacious and, when the situation warrants, caustic, at least in her capacity as the novel's narrator. When she introduces the reader to a malevolent woman, for example, Bridget muses: "If the devil ever chose to take human form, he would do well to study Rebecca Hooke beforehand."
There are exceptions, thanks to authors such as Rose Tremain. Still, C. J. Sansom, S. J. Parris, Hilary Mantel, Patrick O'Brian and C. S. Forester are among the many writers whose historical novels focus on periods of English history that either preceded or followed the Civil War (1642-1651).
Not so Sam Thomas, whose mystery The Midwife's Tale takes place in 1644, as King Charles I and Parliament battle for control of the realm. Royalists loyal to the king command the garrison in York, but local leaders there have divided loyalties, with some of them supporting the rebel armies of Parliament that have laid siege to the city.
It is against that backdrop that Bridget Hodgson, a wealthy widow and midwife, finds herself investigating the murder of Stephen Cooper, a local merchant who was poisoned in his home. Bridget is a friend of Esther Cooper, the victim's widow, who is charged with murdering her husband. Esther is quickly convicted and sentenced to burn at the stake.
Bridget is convinced of Esther's innocence, and she is appalled by the hasty, irregular nature of the trial, during which Esther was not even allowed to testify in her own defense. Stephen Cooper was in league with the rebels, which may explain why the mayor of York, a ruthless royalist, set the wheels in motion to obtain a speedy conviction.
Esther gets a temporary stay when Bridget examines her in prison and notifies the mayor that she is pregnant. But Bridget's finding takes on added significance when the mayor threatens to ruin her and her prominent brother-in-law Edward unless she reverses herself.
As she searches for the killer, Bridget gets help from her new servant, Martha Hawkins, who turns out to be remarkably tough, sassy and street smart. Over time, Bridget comes to question whether Martha is something other than what she seems. The answer comes soon enough, and it quickly becomes clear that the mayor is not the only person in York who may be out to get Bridget. Two more murders follow, including that of a newborn child. Are they all linked?
Bridget's sleuthing reveals that Stephen Cooper had plenty of enemies. The city's royalists saw his allegiance to the rebels as treasonous. Moreover, Cooper had filed a lawsuit against a powerful local family, and he may have been on the verge of winning it. Finally, someone wrote to Cooper before his death threatening to expose his supposed misdeeds unless Cooper bought the extortionist's silence.
In addition to weaving a compelling tale that initially leaves readers guessing because there are several possible murder suspects, Thomas brings 16th century York to life, especially from the perspective of women in general and midwives in particular. In many ways, it is a world unlike our own.
The reader learns that "gossips" (friends) always attend to a pregnant woman during her "travail" (childbirth). We discover how hard life is for an unmarried servant who gives birth in that time and place, because her employer probably will fire her to avoid harboring a "wanton woman." A "bastard-bearing" mother faces an even worse fate if someone murders her child; she will be presumed guilty until proven innocent.
Bridget plays a fascinating role in the life of the city, both because she is a well-to-do "gentlewoman" and because, as a midwife, she has multiple, well-defined civic duties. They include investigating infanticide and getting her clients to identify the fathers of children born out of wedlock, to assure that they provide the 17th-century equivalent of child support.
"I ensured that men who fathered bastards had to pay for their children and that the women who bore them would be whipped," says Bridget, who is a woman both of her time and ahead of it. "If a maiden was raped, who but a midwife would stand with her against her assailant? Who better than a midwife could recognize the signs of bewitchment and the witch's mark? Without midwives, lust would reign, and order would turn to chaos."
Loosely modeled after an actual 17th-century York midwife, the fictional Bridget is a proper, God-fearing woman -- to a point. She also is tough-minded, tenacious and, when the situation warrants, caustic, at least in her capacity as the novel's narrator. When she introduces the reader to a malevolent woman, for example, Bridget muses: "If the devil ever chose to take human form, he would do well to study Rebecca Hooke beforehand."
