Lucy Worsley, historian: ‘The United Kingdom has always fared better with queens than with kings’
The author, who rescued the story of the six wives of Henry VIII and of Queen Victoria, has published an essay on the history of household objects
Lucy Worsley (Reading, 52 years old) has been a familiar face on British television screens for a couple of decades, appearing dressed as Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth I, or an 18th-century courtesan. Her successful BBC documentaries have revived British history in an engaging and provocative way. An Oxford University history graduate, author of 19 books, and chief curator for 21 years of Historic Royal Palaces, her ever-present smile, her childlike mischievousness, and her shoulder-length hair always pinned to one side have served to camouflage a combative feminism when it comes to tackling history.
She insisted on titling her 2016 documentary series about the wives of Henry VIII Six Wives. She refused to include the monarch’s name in the title. The protagonists had to be them. Two Cambridge students were inspired by that work to create the musical Six, a worldwide phenomenon that reinvents these women as pop divas and icons of feminism.
Worsley wrote a delightful book in 2012, If Walls Could Talk: An Intimate History of the Home, which has just been published in its Spanish translation, based on a previous documentary, in which she recounts how the bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom have shaped our lives.
Question. The story of small things... what is so fascinating about delving into everyday life?
Answer. I’m the kind of historian obsessed with small details. I’m not saying that foreign policy or constitutional matters aren’t important, but I enjoy the minutiae of daily life, which, when added together, can give you a complete picture of the cultural and social features of an era. For years I was in charge of the historic house museums in this country. And when visitors came to Hampton Court [the palace occupied by Henry VIII and his unfortunate wives], they didn’t ask about Reformation politics or Baroque aesthetics, but about things like where they washed their socks, where they relieved themselves, or where they cooked.
Q. We take luxuries or habits such as sleeping in our own bedroom or having our own bathroom for granted.
A. Privacy is very much determined by your own culture. Today in Europe it seems essential to us, but just over a hundred years ago you might have been sharing a bed with your coworkers. Every time I talk about this topic, the history of the home and its furnishings, someone always comes up to tell me they grew up in a house without a bathroom, or that they washed their clothes in the kitchen. It really wasn’t that long ago.
Q. Please clarify something for me. When historians say that our ancestors weren’t all that different from us, I can’t help but think that today a toothache can plunge us into despair.
A. We can certainly identify with the feelings of Catherine of Aragon when she suffered Henry VIII’s infidelity and he left her for a new wife. But it’s true that some things are completely different, like the constant presence of God in everyday life. Or like hygiene. I always say, when people ask me what era of the past I’d like to visit, any time after the invention of anesthesia.
Q. But in other aspects they were perhaps better off, or more resigned…
A. Communal life, in some ways, was more respectful than it is today. Today, the rich and the poor inhabit isolated worlds. In the past, they were compelled to have greater contact with one another. One could even argue that in the 16th century, the obligation of the rich to care for the poor was stronger. There was a belief in the idea of the Great Chain of Being, in which everyone, from God to the king, including bishops, dukes, small landowners, and peasants, knew where they fit in. It may sound absurd to us, who aspire to social mobility, but for them, it gave them the security of knowing their place in the world.
When people ask me what era of the past I would like to visit, I say any time after the invention of anesthesia.
Q. Defend the figure of Henry VIII, a king who beheaded wives…
A. He created the Royal Navy, legislated against the use of firearms, invented inflation by devaluing the currency, and had ambitions for England that no previous monarch had ever had. And yet, he has gone down in history for all the melodrama of his personal life and his sexual promiscuity. And for his personal failure; being unable to secure a succession. That failure, however, strengthened the country. Mary reigned, then Elizabeth, then Edward. Everything ended up working out well because the institutions were activated, realizing they had to provide the stability that the king had been unable to deliver. Parliament was strengthened, and the legal profession underwent changes.
Q. And yet, in the popular imagination, his wives continue to fascinate.
A. They’re thought of almost like a hand of cards. Six cards. All with the same value. And that’s not true. He was married to Catherine of Aragon for 20 years. To Catherine Howard, barely one. To Anne of Cleves, barely a few months. They don’t represent the same thing. But the story is so captivating that each one has become an archetype. Catherine of Aragon was the tragic one. Anne Boleyn, the sexy one. Jane Seymour, the kind one. Anne, the plain one. Katharine Howard, the promiscuous one. They’re stereotypes that say a lot about our own culture, and that were actually forged in the 19th century, during the Victorian era.
Q. You have also studied Queen Victoria in depth. And there, the myth lies in the unconditional and passionate love she felt for her husband, Prince Albert.
A. If it were possible to ask Queen Victoria if she loved her husband Albert, she would say yes without hesitation. But that’s because those were the values and principles of the time. I think she suppressed herself to do what society then considered right. And at the same time, I can’t help but feel sorry for Albert, because in that same world, a husband was obligated to have total control over his wife. And although he tried, it’s difficult to control a queen.
Queens, for reasons related to their gender and individual characteristics, governed in a more consensual way, with less posturing, with less of the warlike fervor of Henry VIII
Q. Elizabeth I, Victoria, Elizabeth II… one would say that they are remembered as good reigns.
A. Of course. The United Kingdom has always fared better with queens than with kings. Each one has represented a period of great stability and rule by consensus. Queens, for reasons related to their gender and individual characteristics, governed in a more consensual way, with less posturing, with less of the warlike fervor of Henry VIII. England was never an absolute monarchy; there was always a certain duality of power. And this idea fits better with a woman on the throne.
Q. Your popularity stems largely from your impartiality. It is difficult to know what Lucy Worsley thinks about contemporary times and politics.
A. I’m interested in contemporary history, of course. And I have no qualms about pointing out that feminism is very important to me. But I don’t want people to know which party I vote for. I want the history I tell to be like a big tent where everyone feels welcome. And my only message, always, is to ask people to think things through. Because sometimes they’re more complex than they seem.
In the 18th century, in an agrarian society, all members of the family worked. When the possibility of working in a factory and earning a wage arose, it became a sign of refinement for your wife not to work and to take care of the home
Q. Like the Victorian era, both praised and vilified.
A. Exactly. It was an era of great energy and expansion, of great achievements and rapacious conquests, and at the same time an exaltation of conservative values. It was a time when women were confined to a domestic role. And this stemmed from the Industrial Revolution. In the 18th century, in an agrarian society, all members of the family worked. When the possibility of working in a factory and earning a wage arose, it became a sign of refinement for your wife not to work and to take care of the home.
Q. Recently, the National Gallery in London held a major exhibition dedicated to Artemisia Gentileschi, the great Baroque painter who has been forgotten for so long. Should we rescue the forgotten history of women?
A. In that sense, I feel a little torn. I understand that, in part, it’s a matter of justice. But in recent years, women’s history has gained a lot of prominence, and sometimes it has devolved into a simplistic and easy version where everything was wonderful. And that’s not the case. Women are like men. Brilliant, sometimes. Terrible, sometimes. Sometimes strong, sometimes weak. Sometimes intelligent, sometimes stupid. I don’t think women should always be rescued from the shadows, but at the same time, I think we still have a lot of rescuing to do.
Q. Especially when it comes to female killers. Your series on Victorian-era female criminals is a real find.
A. I was tired of all those crime stories where the first scene is a naked woman, brutally murdered and sexy at the same time. I loved the idea of turning the script on its head and telling the story of all those women who were in control of the situation and turned out to be very interesting. In a Victorian court, in the 19th century, the witness stand was the only place where a woman could freely say things like, “My husband raped me,” “I was desperate and my children were starving,” or “This man did terrible things he should never have done.”
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