Today, I am chatting with Carolyn Hughes about Sister Rosa’s Rebellion, the sixth novel in her Meonbridge Chronicles series.
Readers of the series may already know Rosa, who first entered Northwick Priory as the unhappy teenager Johanna de Bohun in Fortune’s Wheel. Now, many years later, Northwick takes centre stage as Rosa finds herself caught in a struggle over the future of the religious community that has become her home. Pasted markdown
Carolyn joins me today to talk about life inside a medieval nunnery, the fascinating research behind Northwick Priory, and the difficult choices facing a woman whose conscience tells her she must challenge the very authority she has vowed to obey.
But first, let's check out Sister Rosa’s Rebellion
Sister Rosa's Rebellion takes readers from Meonbridge into the enclosed world of Northwick Priory. What inspired you to make the priory and its community the focus of the sixth Meonbridge Chronicle?
I “sent” Johanna de Bohun off to Northwick Priory, as an unhappy teenager, in the first Meonbridge Chronicle, Fortune’s Wheel. She reappeared as Sister Rosa in a couple of the other books, when she returned to Meonbridge for short periods, just to visit or to help her mother. But I always knew I wanted her to tell her own story at some point in the future.
When I was considering what story to write for book 6, the series chronology had reached 1365, so Rosa was now 33 and Northwick’s prioress, Angelica, was nearly 80. The imminent death of the elderly prioress seemed a likely enough scenario, requiring the nuns to elect a successor. I suppose I’d always assumed that young Rosa might eventually rise to become prioress, and now seemed a good time for that to happen. Except that, of course, her succession could scarcely go smoothly, otherwise the story wouldn’t be worth telling! The antagonist, Evangelina, had in fact already made an appearance in a previous book, a brief (but, at the time, unwitting) clue to what would later prove a battle for control with Rosa…
I’d already read quite a lot about medieval nunneries – as background for Rosa’s earlier brief appearances – and I’d discovered that there was plenty of material for writing about “shenanigans” of one sort of another, especially in relation to the election of prioresses. But I didn’t know when I started writing Sister Rosa’s Rebellion that quite so much of the story would in fact be set in the priory itself, rather than, say, more equally balanced with life in Meonbridge, but that was simply what the storyline demanded.
Evangelina transforms Northwick from a place of humility into one marked by privilege, indulgence, and favouritism. What research did you undertake into the authority wielded by medieval prioresses and the ways religious houses were governed?
The bulk of my research came from a book written in the early 20th century by an eminent medieval historian, Eileen Power: Medieval English Nunneries, c. 1275 to 1535. It is a vast tome – which I have read more or less (and more than once) from cover to cover. What I learned from it really opened my eyes, and I soon realised that writing a story about a medieval nunnery could be not only engaging, but also surprising and even exhilarating. For what I read was that some medieval nunneries weren’t at all the havens of peace and prayer I might have expected them to be… Power described greedy and corrupt prioresses, who used their position to give themselves comfort and prestige, to the neglect of their sisters’ more modest needs. She cited all the things I’ve used in Sister Rosa’s Rebellion as indicators of Evangelina’s corruption: buying herself fine clothes; eating special food, prepared by a personal cook; favouring individual nuns; having lapdogs; sleeping alone in a great bed rather than in the dormitory with the other nuns; entertaining guests, especially men; not holding regular chapter meetings; treating the holy offices with disdain. All were against the Benedictine code, to which most nunneries in England were covenanted. A few prioresses went even further, evidently entertaining men in their beds, and giving birth to children which they then brought up in the priory. But I decided not to go that far!
However, it’s clear from Power’s book that this kind of shocking behaviour was by no means the norm in English nunneries. Yet, of course, a few examples are all that’s needed to whet a storyteller’s appetite! The evidence for Power’s narrative apparently came from the very means by which all religious houses were governed: the reports from the bishops’ visitations. Bishops or their representatives visited all institutions every three years or so, to examine their status, both financially and spiritually, and allow all residents to raise any concerns. The “concerns” were documented, and if they warranted remedy, and/or punishment, that too would be recorded. It all made for fascinating reading!
Northwick is not simply a religious community; it also has estates that must be managed successfully. How important was it to show the economic and practical realities of running a medieval priory alongside the spiritual life of its nuns?
I didn’t in the end show quite as much about the economics of the estate as I’d intended when I started writing the book. I enjoy describing “everyday life” in my books, and I’d anticipated including more interaction between the nuns and their tenants (though I imagine that, in practice, only a few nuns would have actually engaged day-to-day with “outsiders”), but, evidently, my story didn’t lend itself to any more.
However, I did show how the economics of the priory were affected as a result of the prioress’s profligacy, through the concerns of the treasuress and the cellaress, and I included two characters who represented the management of the estates – the steward and the bailiff – to bring some insight into its operation. I also wanted to show something of the way in which nunneries were financed – partly by their own industry and the income from their estates, of course, but that wasn’t generally enough without endowments from wealthy patrons. And we can see how delicately balanced the finances might be – in some nunneries, at any rate – and how everything could so readily crumble if the patron decided to withdraw his support.
Anabella's situation raises another interesting question about religious life, because becoming a nun may offer her refuge without necessarily being the future she truly wants. What did her story allow you to explore about the choices available to medieval women?
Anabella’s story is perhaps a bit of a medieval cliché – the abused wife of a violent husband running away to seek sanctuary in a nunnery. But her situation did show how vulnerable a woman could be – even a high-ranking, relatively wealthy woman – if her dead husband’s family were determined not to let her, and, crucially, her money, go. I didn’t explore her likely legal position in much detail – because, of course, I wanted her to flee to Northwick Priory! – but I suspect she wouldn’t have found it at all easy to escape her oppressors, even if she was able to take her case to the courts.
John atte Wode finds himself shut out of Northwick just as his feelings for Anabella have given him a deeply personal reason to return. How did you approach weaving their relationship into Rosa's struggle against Evangelina without allowing one storyline to overshadow the other?
Although Sister Rosa’s Rebellion is very much set in the priory, it was important that the story did also include a reasonably strong Meonbridge element – the books are, after all, the Meonbridge Chronicles! John’s link with Northwick has been ongoing for some years, from when Rosa (then Prioress Angelica’s assistant) recommended engaging his services to advise them on matters agricultural after the priory’s bailiff had to be dismissed. John has thus been visiting Northwick on and off for years.
I’m fairly sure I decided to include Anabella specifically as a potential “love interest” for John. He couldn’t really fall for one of the already-avowed nuns, because she wouldn’t have been able to leave the priory without being excommunicated. But in principle, as long as Anabella didn’t take her vows, she was able to leave the priory and marry. At first, she imagined she’d become a nun, but it was never her vocation, so when a “better offer” presented itself, in the form of John atte Wode’s offer of marriage, it was a relief as well as a joy.
Rosa’s familial closeness with John – they are aunt and uncle to the heir to Meonbridge, Dickon de Bohun – means she was keen to see him happy and, despite the seeming impropriety of “matchmaking”, she chose to help him and Anabella fulfil their desires. It was possibly another aspect of her rebellion against Evangelina, one that pre-empts her subsequent, more serious, action in countering Evangelina’s ruination of the priory. Anabella’s story is a relatively minor part of the “rebellion”, but it provided a good link with Meonbridge, involving not only John, but also his sister Agnes – once Johanna’s closest friend.
Rebellion is a particularly powerful word when applied to a woman who has taken a vow of obedience. What does rebellion mean for Rosa, and was the title Sister Rosa's Rebellion always clear to you?
Looking back over early drafts, I see that at one time I called the book The Nun’s Ordeal or Sister Rosa’s Ordeal, but I really didn’t like it, as I felt it had potentially salacious overtones! I’m honestly not quite sure when the idea of “rebellion” came to me but, once it did, it seemed the obvious premise for what Rosa had to do to overcome the wrongs being perpetrated by Evangelina.
In fact, Rosa/Johanna had been “rebellious” as a teenager, when she carried out an act so wicked in her own eyes that it drove her to enter Northwick in the first place, to find redemption, and then haunted her for years to come. Perhaps that’s partly why she struggles so much with the concept of rebellion now? Yet, in a sense, I think she comes to see her rebellion against Evangelina as an aspect of the absolution she craves for the sinful outcome of her youthful rebellion.
Despite having to break her vows – which she struggles against for most of the book! – in the end she convinces herself that she’s doing so for the right reasons, and that God will forgive her disobedience because the rescue of Northwick is not merely desirable but fundamental… Nonetheless, she does have to convince herself, for obedience to her vows is the unqualified guiding tenet of her life as a nun, and going against it seems unsupportable. Yet she does so for the greater good. I love it when protagonists really have to battle with their consciences to determine how to act, and Rosa’s struggle was particularly stressful, both for her and for me!
By the sixth Meonbridge Chronicle, you had lived with this fictional community for many years. How has your understanding of Meonbridge and its inhabitants changed since you first introduced them in Fortune's Wheel?
Yes, I’ve lived with them all now for more than ten years. I very first published Fortune’s Wheel in 2016 and I’d been writing it for a few years before that. I’d created a cast of characters – the most important of whom, at that time, were women – and I’d woven a story around the aftermath of what must have been the greatest disaster ever to have befallen them, what we call the Black Death. Thereafter, I wrote more books, with some of the same characters and some new ones, I watched young people grow up, and I saw other people die, some naturally, some as a result of mayhem of one sort or another. From time to time, I moved the scene of action away from Meonbridge itself, whilst still focusing the storyline on Meonbridge people, and always coming back “home” in the end…
I live in a village that is more or less in the same location as “Meonbridge”, and I’ve lived here for more than forty years. I don’t know everybody, of course, but I do know, or have known, quite a lot of people, and I’ve seen many young people grow up, and many older people die. I’ve seen new people come into the village and others leave. And some who leave, especially younger ones, are still “of the village” even if they no longer live here. So, the parallel is clear, I think, Meonbridge has grown and changed in much the same way that my own village has, and that is how I see it: the place and its inhabitants are pretty much as real to me as where I actually live!
At its heart, Sister Rosa's Rebellion asks how far someone should go to protect what they love when doing so means challenging the rules they have promised to obey. What do you hope readers take away from Rosa's struggle between duty, conscience, and courage?
Goodness, that’s potentially such a tricky question, because I’m loath for anyone to think I’m preaching in any way!
In all my long life, I don’t think I’ve never been called upon to make such a difficult decision as Rosa’s, so I had to imagine how it might be for her. She had to decide whether obeying the orders of a woman she believed was immoral, not to say wicked, was actually more important and honest – or more true to her faith, perhaps? – than saving Northwick from ruin. The priory wasn’t merely her and her fellow sisters’ home, but, in her eyes, a place that had a “higher purpose”.
Yet the Benedictine code she’d “signed up to” in effect demanded unconditional obedience to her superior, so to repudiate it was a terrible choice to have to make. She had to convince herself that the “greater good” must prevail. Whether a religious person – in the medieval period or today – would in practice make the choice I gave to Rosa, I don’t know, but it seemed the right choice for the story. I had to ensure that Evangelina, the antagonist – indeed, the “villain” – did not ultimately triumph, and that the “higher purpose” and “greater good” did.
A huge thank you to Carolyn Hughes for joining me today and taking us behind the scenes of Sister Rosa’s Rebellion.
If you enjoy richly researched medieval fiction, strong female characters and stories that bring the everyday lives and difficult choices of people in the past vividly to life, then Sister Rosa’s Rebellion is certainly one to add to your reading list.
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See you on your next coffee break!
Take Care,
Mary Anne xxx