Women of England

by Bartlett Burleigh James

The Church stood for order and even for progress; it summed up in itself all the knowledge and the culture of the times. In the midst of the turmoil and dangers of war and strife, it afforded to women the one haven to which they might flee for security. But its protection was bought at the price of authority over the lives and consciences of its adherents. The lives of women were spent in a round of narrow experience and of duty, and the feasts of the Church, with their processions and ceremonials, furnished to them merely an agreeable break in the monotony of their existence. This was especially true of the lower classes. In an age when belief in supernatural appearances and interferences formed part of the common credence of the masses, the emotional sensibilities of the women were easily appealed to by the priests. By taking advantage of this ignorance, the Church was enabled to hold in absolute control the lives of the simple and credulous women. Women did not hesitate to yield to the Church their freedom of thought and of action, their minds and consciences alike being at the disposal of their ecclesiastical directors; but when the Church taught men to respect their wives, and raised its voice and exerted its influence against the tyranny which placed women in subjection to their male relatives, it was indeed befriending them in a way that hastened the acquirement by them of the real equality which they now enjoy with the other sex.

The relation of women and the Church was not without its anomalies. This is shown curiously in the contrast between the Mariolatry of the age and the attitude of the Church toward the sex of which Mary was the exalted type The women were not esteemed fit to receive the Eucharist with uncovered hands; they were forbidden to approach the altar; their married state was yet, in theory at least considered a condition of sin, for, even among the women of the laity, virginity and celibacy were regarded as almost a state of especial sanctity. But the Church was entirely consistent in its attitude toward women in that it made no distinctions as to class or condition. Queen Philippa, wife of Edward III., while on a visit to Durham Cathedral, after having supped with the king, retired to rest in the priory. The scandalized monks sought an interview with the king and made vigorous protests, so that the queen was obliged to rise, and, clad only in her night apparel, sought accommodations in the castle, beseeching Saint Cuthbert's pardon for having polluted the holy confines with her presence.

Ecclesiastical law operated disastrously against women in declaring for a celibate priesthood. In Anglo-Saxon times the priests married; but the Council of Winchester, in 1076, took a stand against the marriage of the clergy, and forbade priests to take to themselves wives, although it permitted the parish clergy who were already married to continue in the marital state. In 1102, however, it was declared that no married priest should celebrate mass, and in 1215 the Lateran Council definitely pronounced against marriage of priests. Many of the clergy had by no means shown a docile spirit in relation to this invasion of what they considered the domain of their personal rights; when forced into submission, they evaded the ordinances by taking concubines. Even in the fifteenth century, it was not uncommon to find married priests. In the document entitled Instructions for Parish Priests, those who were too weak to live uprightly in the celibate state were counselled to take wives. Concubinage, as a substitute for the interdicted marriage, continued to be practised down to the sixteenth century, nor was this form of illicit living the worst vice of the clergy. Debauchery spread throughout the country, until in the sixteenth century it is said that as many as one hundred thousand women fell under the seductions of the priests, for whose particular pleasures houses of ill fame were kept. From the laity, complaints became general that their wives and daughters were not safe from the advances of the priests. In 1536 the clergy of the diocese of Bangor sent to Cromwell the following remarkable plea against taking away their women from them: "We ourselves shall be driven to seek our living at all houses and taverns, for mansions upon the benefices and vicarages we have none. And as for gentlemen and substantial honest men, for fear of inconvenience, and knowing our frailty and accustomed liberty, they will in no wise board us in their houses." All the literature of the Middle Ages leads to but one conclusion—that the clergy were the great corrupters of domestic virtue among the burgher and agricultural classes. The morals of the lords and ladies of the upper strata of the aristocratic class were of no higher grade; the offenders, however, were seldom the priests, but the gallants of that privileged circle. The lower rank of the aristocracy,—the knights and lesser landholders,—which, with the decline of feudalism, came to be more strongly defined as a separate class, appears to have preserved the best moral tone of any of the classes of mediæval society.

A great deal of light is thrown upon the manners and thought of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries by a body of literature which arose during those centuries. The estimation in which the classes of society were held is indicated by one of these fabliaux. A party of knights passed through a pleasant and shady meadow, in the midst of exquisite scenery; they were enchanted by the spot, and wished for meat and wine that they might tarry there and dine on the grass. There followed them a party of clerks, whose feelings were also aroused by the beauty of the place; and, in accord with the frivolous character given them throughout the fabliaux, they exclaimed: "Had we fair maidens here, how pleasant a spot for play!" After they had passed on, there came a party of villains, who, with their grosser ideas, thought not of the beauty of the place at all, but proceeded to indulge themselves in carnal pleasures and to use it for mean purposes.

These fabliaux show us that Cupid disdained conventional restraint then as now; for in them the marriage of persons in different classes often furnishes a theme for the story—this, too, notwithstanding the sharp caste distinctions which existed. Usually, the maiden is possessed of more beauty than wealth and belongs to the poor-knight class; she is wedded to a peasant or villain who has become wealthy. The husband turns out to be a brute; the lady is crafty and cunning. He beats and abuses her, according to the instincts of his boorish nature; she, on the other hand, proves faithless as often as opportunity presents. The writers never visit condemnation upon her, for her husband is considered as undeserving of the possession of such a prize. It is a curious commentary on the manner of the times that upon the same manuscript, written by the same person, appear fabliaux of this sort and stories of holy women dying in defence of their chastity. This contradiction runs throughout the literature of the period—the praise of virtue and the narration of gross immorality without an effort to condemn it. One of the most peculiar facts of the age is the extreme to which was carried the adoration of the Virgin and the strange things she is made to do and to countenance, in the mythology of the Middle Ages—for so we must class most of the mediæval stories of the saints and of the Virgin—to ardent and imaginative temperaments the Virgin took the character of Venus, and is frequently represented as the patroness of love. One of the religious stories tells us that some young men, while playing ball in front of a church, approached the porch of the edifice, upon which was a beautiful statue of Our Lady. One of them laid down his ring, which he had received from his lady-love. Then, to his amazement, he saw the image, which was "fresh and new," fix its eyes upon the ring. He became enamored of it, and, after due obeisance, he addressed Our Lady thus:

"I promise duly,

That all my life I'll serve thee truly;

For never saw I maiden fair

Whose beauty could with thine compare,

So courtly and so debonaire: