While chivalry poised its lance in defense of the Lucretias, and then of the Dulcineas of the day, the religious view of the commerce of the sexes was particularly ascetic.
Although the most profound devotion was paid to woman in the abstract by the order, the Church sought to encourage perpetual celibacy, the seclusion of women, and the separation of the sexes. The clergy were forbidden to marry, and the idea seemed to prevail that it was impossible for men and women to mingle without being under the influence of lascivious ideas, and ready to carry them into practice as soon as opportunity offered. The attempt to organize society on such a basis had an inevitable tendency to produce demoralization. Its obvious result, instead of promoting chastity was to increase secret licentiousness and encourage prostitution.
Even the voluntary vows of knights and troubadours were, in the end, as little observed as these ecclesiastical precepts. The profligacy of the Troubadours became open and undisguised, and the virtue of their mistresses naturally kept pace with their example. The knights who enlisted in the Crusades, with a large amount of zeal and but a small share of wealth, supported their retainers by robberies on the way, and the females who accompanied them acted as camp followers usually do. No institution which deals merely in external observances can restrain immorality in circumstances favorable to its development, and hence chivalry was forced to yield before more powerful influences. That it served its purpose in elevating the condition of woman, and in giving a better tone to society at large, it would be unjust to deny.
Even when chivalry declined and ceased to inspire feats of knight-errantry, we find women, instead of falling back into the degrading position they had formerly occupied, employing themselves in intellectual pursuits, publishing books, mixing in public controversies, distinguishing themselves in the acquisition of languages, and even taking a leading part in the political affairs of the times.
Among the women who acquired a historical notoriety by their position as royal mistresses, during the epoch comprised between the Norman conquest and the reign of Henry VIII., were the Fair Rosamond, concubine of Henry II., and Jane Shore, the mistress of Edward IV. The misfortunes, as well as the generous qualities of these fair sinners have thrown a sort of halo around them.
Rosamond, surnamed the Fair on account of her exquisite beauty, was the daughter of Walter, Lord Clifford, and was educated in the nunnery of Godstow. The popular tradition concerning her is that Henry, hearing of her charms, paid her a visit, but, finding her virtue inflexible, had to exercise his authority as sovereign to compel her to yield to his wishes. He placed her in a building erected in the midst of a labyrinth at Woodstock, access to which could only be obtained by a clew of thread. Henry located her here to protect her from the jealousy of his queen Eleanor. She bore the king two sons, William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury, and Geoffrey, Bishop of Lincoln. During the king’s absence in France he intrusted the keeping of Woodstock and the care of the Fair Rosamond to one Lord Thomas, who endeavored to seduce her. In revenge for the rejection of his overtures, the faithless warden conducted Queen Eleanor to her retreat, and the latter is said to have mixed a cup of poison, which her minions compelled the unfortunate Rosamond to drink. It is also alleged that the queen struck the poor girl on her lip with her clenched hand.[293] Some assert that Rosamond died a natural death in a convent at Oxford, and attribute the origin of the story of poisoning to the figure of a cup which was sculptured on her tomb. It is more probable that this effigy was placed there to commemorate the actual event. Rosamond was buried in the church of Godstow, opposite the high altar, where her remains lay undisturbed until they were ordered to be removed, with every mark of indignity, by Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, in the year 1191. She was regarded by the people as a saint, if not a martyr, and wonderful legends were related concerning her.
Jane Shore, the celebrated concubine of Edward IV., was the wife of Matthew Shore, a goldsmith in Lombard Street, London. Edward possessed a good figure and pleasing address, and was fond of athletic sports and exercises, which he enjoyed in company with the citizens, among whom he became exceedingly popular. His popularity extended to many of the citizens’ wives, and it was not considered out of the natural course of things that Mrs. Shore should be removed from Lombard Street to shine at court as the royal favorite. Historians represent her as extremely beautiful, remarkably gay in temperament, and of uncommon generosity. The king, it is said, was no less charmed with her temper and disposition than with her person. She never made use of her influence over him to the prejudice of any one, and if she ever importuned him it was in favor of the unfortunate.
After the death of Edward she attached herself to Lord Hastings, and when Richard III. cut off that nobleman as an obstacle to his schemes, she was arrested as an accomplice on the ridiculous charge of witchcraft. This accusation, however, terminated in a public penance, with the loss of whatever little property she possessed. Notwithstanding the severities exercised against her, it is certain that she was alive in the reign of Henry VIII., when Sir Thomas More mentions having seen her, poor and shriveled, without the least trace of her former beauty. Mr. Rowe, in his tragedy of “Jane Shore,” has adopted the popular story related in the old ballad, of her perishing from hunger in a ditch where Shoreditch now stands, but Stow assures us that that street was thus named previous to the time of Jane Shore.
The example of none of the English kings had a greater influence in bringing the marriage tie into disrepute than that of Henry VIII. An effort has been made by Mr. Fronde, in his new history of England, to redeem the character of this monarch from some portion of the obloquy with which it is covered, but there is no doubt that he was an unmitigated monster. Curious to say, during his youth and early manhood he betrayed no evidence of the brutal passions which afterward moved him. He was the husband of Catharine for seventeen years before his domestic conduct incurred reproach. At that late period of his career he conceived a violent passion for Anne Boleyn, and, in order to get her to share his bed, sought to divorce his wife. From this period he seemed to become the prey of a restless concupiscence, which sought gratification in new objects of indulgence, and his passion for the women he married and beheaded was as short-lived as it was violent.
There is reason to believe that his marriage with Anne Boleyn was more than adulterous. It is said Anne’s mother had been more complaisant to Henry than her duty to her husband or the laws of morality would have sanctioned, and we have the authority of Bishop Fisher for concluding that Anne was the result of this illicit connection, and that, when the king expressed an intention of marrying her, Lady Boleyn exhorted him to abandon his design, as Anne was his own daughter. Henry was not to be deterred by an obstacle of this sort. He had great difficulty in procuring a divorce, and in the mean while he and Anne had become so intimate that she began to exhibit proofs of the connection which could not be concealed. A private marriage was resorted to, considerations of state rendering it prudent to keep the union secret.