A Tudor woman’s life cycle offers a fascinating glimpse into the shifting roles, expectations, and lived experiences of women in 16th-century England. From birth to old age, Tudor women navigated a world defined by rigid gender norms, religious upheaval, and societal change. While many aspects of their lives were shaped by their relationships to men—as daughters, wives, and mothers—women also wielded influence within their homes and communities in powerful, often overlooked ways.
Let’s explore each stage of a Tudor woman’s life through the lens of a fictional character named Margaret. Her story illustrates the resilience, adaptability, and quiet strength that defined female life cycles in the Tudor era—and helps us better understand how women both conformed to and subtly challenged the world around them.
Transcript of Echoes of Time: The Life Cycle of a Tudor Woman
March is, of course, Women’s History Month. So, we’re going to be focusing all month on stories of women—particular women, the life cycles of women—and we’re going to be doing this both here on the podcast and on my YouTube channel, which you can check out. I’ll put a link in the show notes. We’re just going to be focusing on all kinds of things having to do with women this month. So that will be fun, and feminine, and everything like that.
Today, we are talking about the life cycles of Tudor women—basically going through each phase in a Tudor woman’s life and talking about it, because there were some changes between what women in the 16th century experienced during their lives and what I have experienced, and what my peers have experienced, in the 21st century. So, we’re going to talk about that a little bit, and what was going on for women during each phase.
Of course, the Tudor period was a transformative period in English history, marked—as we talk about on the show—by significant cultural, political, and religious changes. The lives of women were obviously intricately woven into society, but sometimes they existed in the shadow of their male counterparts.
That’s something I talked about on my YouTube channel too. A lot of times, we just don’t have records of what women were doing during this time because they weren’t involved in public things that were recorded. They weren’t necessarily at guild meetings, like their male counterparts, where there might have been notes of what was discussed. They weren’t in Parliament. They weren’t doing those kinds of public sphere things that would’ve been recorded.
However, by the end of the century, we do start to see more letter writing. We start to see more diary keeping. So, we do get more of a sense of women’s lives by the end of the century. But at the beginning of the century, there just aren’t a lot of records. There are birth records, death records—every once in a while there are letters, like the Paston Letters during the Wars of the Roses. So there are just hints. But compared to what we can tell about their male counterparts, there’s just not as much.
Understanding the lifecycle of a Tudor woman offers a window into the complexity of her existence, revealing not only the limitations imposed by her gender, but also the ways in which she navigated—and sometimes subverted—these constraints.
The societal context of the Tudor period was heavily influenced by patriarchal norms. Women’s roles were largely defined by their relationships with men: they were daughters, they were wives, they were mothers.
However, this does not mean that women were just passive actors in their lives. From the highest ranks of royalty to the humblest peasant families, women exerted influence, showed resilience, and made significant contributions to their families and communities—obviously.
But delving into the life stages of a Tudor woman sheds light on the varied experiences that shaped her identity: the rites of passage that marked her transition from one stage of life to another, and the societal expectations that guided her path.
Childhood and Education
So, let’s talk about the early stage—childhood and education—the journey of a Tudor woman. Let’s just call her Margaret. Margaret’s journey began when she was born—an event that was fraught with danger for both mother and child. Childbirth was a purely female domain, and midwives played a crucial role. The high infant mortality rate meant that baptisms were conducted swiftly, often within days of birth, to ensure the child’s spiritual safety.
One interesting factoid is that midwives were actually granted the power of baptism. They were able to baptize babies themselves, and that’s because often it would be clear that a baby wasn’t going to survive—or maybe the mother was dying and it was clear the baby wasn’t going to make it.
So, a midwife could perform an emergency baptism to ensure that the child’s soul would go to heaven. I think that’s a pretty cool little factoid—that midwives could baptize. Naming customs frequently honored relatives or godparents, creating a sense of continuity and connection within families.
Margaret’s early years would’ve been nurtured within the confines of the family home, where she would’ve learned the skills and virtues expected of her gender. Daughters of nobles and the wealthy were educated at home by tutors, learning to read and write—a privilege not afforded to many of their lower-class counterparts.
Women were expected to be able to manage an estate while their husbands were away. Margaret, if she were upper class, would’ve learned even mathematics—rudimentary addition and subtraction—so that she could run the estate if she were being raised to take on that role later in life.
If Margaret was a girl of lesser means, her education was centered on practical skills necessary for managing a household—such as sewing, cooking, and other domestic tasks. Despite these class distinctions, the underlying expectation was the same: to prepare a girl for her future role as a wife and mother.
As a girl approached puberty, her education and societal interactions became more focused on preparing her for marriage—the cornerstone of a Tudor woman’s life. Again, if Margaret was in the upper echelon of society, this might include instruction in languages, music, and dance—skills designed to make her more appealing in the marriage market.
For a girl of lower social standing, the transition to adolescence involved taking on more responsibilities within the home, or apprenticeships in trades deemed suitable for women, such as dressmaking or brewing. Throughout these early stages of life, Tudor girls were molded by the expectations and realities of their world.
Marriage and Early Adulthood
So now let’s talk about marriage—and Margaret’s life from puberty to, say, her late twenties or early thirties. Marriage was not a personal choice but a strategic alliance that could elevate a family’s status. (We talked about that during Love Month as well!) It could also forge political alliances and ensure economic security.
The transition from girlhood to womanhood was often marked by marriage, which was expected to occur shortly after reaching puberty—especially among the nobility and gentry. However, this did vary significantly by social class.
Noble women married much earlier because those marriages were meant to secure alliances. Women of the lower classes actually married much later—often not much earlier than what we might consider appropriate today. That was usually because the man was still completing an apprenticeship, which could take him into his early to mid-twenties.
So marriage for the lower classes typically happened in the late teens to early or even mid-twenties—and that was driven by economic necessity rather than political strategy. Arranged marriages were the norm, particularly among the nobility and gentry, where marriages were negotiated by families with meticulous consideration of dowries, jointures, and the social and political advantages such unions could bring.
An example of the complexities involved in these negotiations can be seen in the arrangements made for Margaret Dakins, who became Lady Hoby. She was 18 when she married Walter Devereaux, and the marriage was orchestrated by a network of familial and political connections—emphasizing the role of marriage in consolidating wealth and influence.
The negotiations were so intricate that contributions from various parties were meticulously planned to secure the young couple’s financial foundation, which was, of course, a common practice in Tudor marriages.
So let’s say our Margaret was getting married—her marriage would have been, of course, steeped in tradition, much like ours are today. The religious ceremonies included the practice of “crying the banns” and the exchange of vows and rings in a church setting.
To “cry the banns” meant making a public announcement of the upcoming marriage, typically done three times. This allowed time for anyone to come forward with a valid objection—such as a pre-contract or other legal impediment. If the couple was in a rush—say there was an unplanned pregnancy—they could request special permission to bypass the banns, but that required formal approval.
The weddings of nobility and gentry were lavish affairs, reflecting the family’s social status, while those of the lower classes were simpler—but no less significant in their communal and social implications.
Once she was married, a Tudor woman’s primary role was to manage the household and bear children. Lady Hobie’s diary entries provide a fascinating insight into the daily life of a woman at the helm of a large household and estate. Her writings detail not only her devout religious practices but also her diligent management of household tasks—from tending to the sick to overseeing the harvest—reflecting the broad spectrum of responsibility Tudor wives held.
Through her writings, we see a woman embodying the era’s ideals of obedience, piety, and industriousness, while also navigating the complexities and challenges of her role with resilience and pragmatism.
Motherhood and Family Life
So now let’s talk about motherhood and family life. I did do a whole episode on pregnancy and childbirth in Medieval and Renaissance England, and I actually created a mini course on it a couple of years ago—which you can buy on my courses page at courses.heatherteysko.com.
So we’re not going to go too deep into that here. I’ll include the episode and course links in the show notes, because I’m fascinated by this topic. It was also during a period when I had just had my own baby, so I was super interested in it at the time!
Anyway, the journey to motherhood in the Tudor period, of course, was fraught with peril and uncertainty. They used to say, “Men died in wars, and women died in childbirth.” The lack of modern medical knowledge obviously meant that many women didn’t even recognize they were pregnant until the quickening—the first movement of the fetus—which typically happens around 24 weeks.
Diagnostic methods were rudimentary at best, often relying on the color and characteristics of urine. There were no reliable means to monitor the baby’s well-being—conditions like eclampsia or high blood pressure couldn’t be tested for. The role of the midwife was crucial; these experienced women were the primary source of support and knowledge for expectant mothers, guiding them through a process that was both a natural part of life and a significant risk to their health.
Childbirth did not discriminate—it was a perilous time for all women, as even Queen Jane Seymour tragically discovered—regardless of social standing. The private nature of childbirth, coupled with the high mortality rates for both mothers and babies, highlights the fragility of life during this period.
The birthing process was shrouded in secrecy and heavily influenced by religious beliefs. Women relied on amulets, prayers, and the intercession of saints—especially Saint Margaret—to aid in delivery. The reliance on midwives and the absence of male physicians (except in extreme cases) underscored the gendered nature of childbirth: a tradition rooted in shared female knowledge and experience.
That said, this was beginning to change during the 16th century. One of the things I find both sad and ironically a bit funny is that during the Protestant Reformation under Edward VI, it was actually made illegal for women to pray to saints during childbirth.
I’m not sure how you would even police that! But it was—you know—you could pray to God, but you couldn’t pray to a specific saint. Also, things like having any kind of amulet or anything considered poppish were banned. So, as a woman was getting ready to enter labor, if the local church had something like a relic or an icon, she would want that with her.
At Burton-on-Trent in Staffordshire, a pregnant woman was said to be very desirous of having the staff of Saint Marina to lean on during labor. Others had statues, tapestries, or prayer rolls to help them focus. For centuries, women believed in the benefits of using birth girdles. At Westminster Abbey, the monks guarded the Virgin Mary’s very own birth girdle—allegedly given to them by Edward the Confessor (not sure how he got it). It was available to rent for noble and royal births. But of course, the Reformation brought with it the destruction of these so-called idols, and many of these tools were taken away from women.
In 1538, the Bishop of Salisbury gave instructions that midwives in his diocese were not to use girdles, purses, or “measures of Our Lady,” or other superstitious items. Some women were told they could no longer pray to their saints, as I mentioned earlier. I think it’s kind of hilarious that they thought they could actually police that—but who knows? Maybe they did. I can just imagine a woman in labor crying out to St. Margaret, and the midwife being like, “No, no, no, you can’t say that!” So anyway, that was pregnancy and childbirth.
But of course, surviving childbirth was just the beginning. Raising children in the Tudor period involved nurturing them through the high-risk infant years, educating them according to their gender and social class, and preparing them for adult roles.
Mothers played a central role in imparting moral and religious values. They were also deeply involved in planning marriages and ensuring that their children acquired the skills necessary for their future—whether that meant managing a household or learning a trade. The education of a child was a reflection of both the parents’ aspirations and the practicalities of their social standing.
If a woman lost her husband during this time and became a widow, that, of course, brought significant economic and social changes—fundamentally altering her role within the family and in society. A widow might find herself solely responsible for managing the estate and making decisions traditionally held by men for her family’s future.
This shift could grant a woman a degree of autonomy and authority that she had not previously experienced. It also came with the burden of maintaining the family’s economic security and social position.
Maturity and Public Life
So now let’s move on to our fictional Margaret and her maturity and involvement in public life. As her children start to grow and she’s in her forties to, say, her late fifties, she would be becoming a matriarch.
If Margaret has survived this long, as an older Tudor woman she would wield considerable influence within her family. She was often the glue holding the family together—arbitrating disputes, ensuring the continuity of family traditions and values. Their homes could become centers of familial power, where marriages were arranged, alliances were forged, and the social education of the younger generation was conducted.
Grandmothers in particular played a crucial role in the upbringing of grandchildren, often taking over their care during parental absences or illnesses and passing down wisdom and knowledge they had accumulated.
An example of this can be seen in the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk during the early Tudor period. She often gets a bad rap because her household lacked discipline, but she was the head of a large household and provided education and guardianship for several young women, including Katherine Howard. Her household was a microcosm of Tudor court life, where young women were trained in the skills and graces needed for advancement at court under the eye of a powerful matriarch. Like I said, hers is not necessarily the best example—but it is the most famous.
Older women often found a more public voice in religious and community affairs, using their status to engage in acts of patronage and charity. If they had been married to a man who had been in a guild, they could sometimes take over some of his roles within the guild. There are cases of women joining guilds—it was very rare, but it did happen.
The religious upheaval of the Tudor period, with its shift from Catholicism to Protestantism, provided new opportunities for women to express their faith and influence their communities through religious patronage and the establishment of new religious houses.
Lady Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII, of course, is a prime example of this kind of influence. Despite the constraints placed upon women, her role as the king’s mother granted her considerable authority, which she used to become a major patron of educational and religious institutions. She founded Christ’s College and St. John’s College in Cambridge. Her actions not only demonstrated her personal devotion, but also set a precedent for women’s involvement in the promotion of education and religion.
And like I said before, while the public sphere was largely dominated by men, widows and unmarried women in the Tudor period could—and did—engage in business and trade. The law allowed widows certain rights to their husband’s estates, which could include running their business.
So this period saw women managing inns, trading goods, and even participating in the international trade networks that were expanding during this time. One example of this is Katherine Fenkyll, who was known for managing her late husband’s business after his death. She was a successful merchant. After her husband’s passing, she took over his mercantile business and continued to operate it with considerable success.
And there’s actually a book called The Working Life of Women in the 17th Century that was put out by the London School of Economics. It’s actually in the public domain now, so you can read it on Project Gutenberg.
It’s a fascinating study of how women in the 16th and 17th centuries worked and what professions they were in. It goes into all different kinds of areas: textiles, agriculture, capitalist enterprises, crafts and trades, and various professions women could be involved in. Again, I’ll add that to the show notes too. I highly recommend it if you really want to dig deep into working women in the 17th century.
Elderly Women in Tudor Society
So now, our fictional Margaret is becoming an elderly woman in Tudor society, and she now occupies a very unique position. On one hand, older women were often revered for their wisdom and experience, playing a pivotal role as family matriarchs and advisors, like we talked about. On the other hand, societal norms that valued women primarily for their fertility and physical prowess could render older women invisible or marginalized.
Yet many elderly women leveraged their age and experience to assert a degree of authority and influence that was less accessible in their youth. One example of the reverence for older women can be seen in Elizabeth Fitzgerald, Countess of Lincoln, who stayed at court and remained a significant figure even into her late sixties.
She was respected for her wisdom and experience, and her home was a center of literary and cultural gatherings, illustrating the respect and agency that could come with age. The drafting of wills was a crucial aspect of ensuring the continuation of family lines and the proper distribution of one’s estate, reflecting the emphasis on lineage and inheritance.
Elderly women in particular used wills not only to distribute their worldly goods but also to express personal wishes, support charitable causes, and influence family dynamics beyond their lifetime.
Looking at Margaret Beaufort again, we see a compelling example. Her will meticulously detailed the distribution of her possessions, provisions for her servants, and donations to charitable causes—illustrating her keen awareness of her legacy and the power of her estate to influence and support future generations and public welfare.
One illustrative reflection can be found in the writings and accounts surrounding women like Lady Anne Clifford. Lady Anne Clifford was a Stuart noblewoman. You can actually read her diaries—they were published about twenty years ago in a paperback edition. Her diaries and correspondence, penned in her later years, provide not only a record of her efforts to reclaim her inheritance but also her reflections on her early life, the challenges she faced, and her contributions to her family and society.
Throughout the life stages of a Tudor woman—from the innocence of childhood to the wisdom of old age—we’ve talked about the societal roles and personal experiences that defined her existence. Each phase was marked by its own set of expectations and challenges, showcasing the resilience and adaptability of women in a period of significant historical upheaval and change.
One thing I want to say is that obviously men would have had their own set of expectations and challenges, particularly around fighting, war, economics, and managing all of that. So I don’t want to discard that. However, it is Women’s History Month. I myself am a woman. I am the mother of a future woman, and so this is of more interest to me.
It’s funny because every once in a while, I look at reviews of my show. I don’t look that often because, honestly, I’m not going to change anything based on strangers on the internet and what they think about me. So I really don’t look that often. But I was redoing my website recently, and I wanted to grab a review just to put it up.
And so I looked, and it’s so funny—the people who don’t like me say things like, “She’s become feminist,” and, “Her show is nothing but feminist propaganda,” and stuff like that. And, like, it just kind of cracks me up because yes, I am going to talk about women more—because I am one, and I have a daughter, and I’m very interested in that. So I’m going to talk about the things that are of interest to me.
It’s certainly nothing against men. I’m a big fan of men too—I’m married to one, I have a father, I have stepbrothers. So I certainly don’t mean any of this to disparage men. Men have their own set of expectations, just as they still do to this day, just like women do.
I also enjoy talking about that with my husband and hearing his take on the societal expectations placed on men—especially because we tend to have somewhat reversed gender roles. I’m the main breadwinner for our family, and he is mostly the primary caregiver for our daughter. So it’s funny when we talk about that kind of stuff because it’s really interesting to hear his perspective and what that’s like for him.
So when I share all of this, I don’t mean any of it as a disparagement toward men. I want to make sure that’s clear because I feel like someone is going to pick up on this and say, “Oh, Heather’s doing this because she doesn’t like men,” which is completely not true.
Related links:
Episode 024: Pregnancy and Childbirth in Renaissance England
Working Life of Women in the Seventeenth Century by Alice Clark
Heather Teysko is the creator, writer, and producer of The Renaissance English History Podcast,  the original Tudor history podcast, started in 2009. She's been writing about history online for over 25 years, since her first site on Colonial American history became number one in history on Yahoo in 1998. In 2019 she created Tudorcon, which is now a yearly event, in addition to writing books, and running TudorFair.com - a whimsical Tudor Merch shop.
She has been passionate about Tudor England since she first read Alison Weir's The Six Wives of Henry VIII 30 years ago, and subsequently moved to London after college to spend her time immersed in Tudor history (how exciting when she got to interview Alison for the first time!). In addition to history, she is passionate about travel, and has lived in 3 countries and 4 states (not counting her perpetual state of confusion), and her family (who help her host her YouTube channel occasionally).
