Tyrant of the Mind (22 page)

Not all medieval laws were harsh for women, however. There is an interesting little clause in the Magna Carta, a document touted as a precursor of modern democracy in some circles. One of the tiny provisions in that charter of 1215 is the prohibition against the king extracting fines from widows who wanted to stay single or remarry someone of their own choosing.

During the reign of King John, upper class widows paid dearly for the privilege of doing either after the death of a husband. The crown grew quite rich with the fines they paid; therefore, the barons probably added this paragraph, not to give women any real choice, but to stop the drain on the baronial wallet. In practice, widows often had few options about what they did with their lives after the death of a spouse either before or after 1215. Nonetheless, this clause did open the door to freer marital choice by widows, a concept that was even respected on occasion.

Since many widows must have been put under pressure to make another marriage lucrative to the family, there was one fairly certain way a widow could retain her independence. This was through the practice called “taking the ring and mantle as a vowess.” By taking this single monastic vow of celibacy, a woman gained God as an ally in her decision to remain single and thus comparatively independent, financially as well as legally. This ceremony and vow were not taken lightly in medieval society and took place in front of a bishop. When Henry III’s widowed sister, Eleanor, remarried after taking such a vow herself, the question of the validity of that second marriage was brought before the Pope for a decision. The fact that she had conceived de Montfort’s child prior to the wedding was of lesser concern in this instance.

Becoming a nun was a common career choice for a medieval woman, either because she had a calling to the religious life or her family decided she would. Not all nuns were strictly sequestered, however, and they were often called back to their secular homes whenever someone in the family fell ill or their services were otherwise needed. In some instances, prioresses also spent much time at court. Just as charities do today, monasteries of all kinds needed money and the court was a good place to get donations of land or other valuable items. Many women, especially those trained in running large households or holdings, opted for the religious life as one way to exercise considerable administrative talent. Despite the general belief that Adam should not be ruled by Eve, there were even a few double houses, with monks and nuns living and working in close proximity, where both genders were overseen by a prioress or abbess. Such an order was the one to which the religious in this story belong, the Order of Fontevraud.

The calling to become an anchoress is less well known. An anchoress (men were called anchorites) was a woman who took a special vow, in addition to the other monastic ones, to remain in one limited locale, apart from the rest of the world. In the earlier years of Christianity, remaining in place meant that a woman, or a man, could live in a specific hut or cave. Later, it often, but not always, meant spending their lives in one room, frequently next to the chapel where they could observe Mass and take Communion through a small hole in the wall. Since an anchoress wished to practice an even more reclusive and austere life than most nuns of the period, her request had to be accepted by the local bishop and the head of the convent to which she was attached. When approved, her reception into her new vocation was called “entombing” to signify her death to the world.

Although they may have wished for a more solitary life, many anchoresses were not, in fact, “dead to the world.” Some parents gave daughters as an
oblate
(meaning a gift) to a convent to be raised and educated by an anchoress, who was considered especially wise and holy because of her severe vows. One such
oblate
was Hildegard von Bingen, who was educated and brought up by Jutta, an anchoress at the Benedictine convent of Disibodenberg. Hildegard later left the enclosed cell to become the head of her own convent as well as advisor to both spiritual and secular notables. Many anchoresses did weaving and similar commercial crafts to raise money for their convent. Still others had visitors who came to the open but curtained window in their cells to seek their advice. Julian of Norwich is one example and is mentioned in the autobiography of Margery Kempe, who sought the anchoress’ opinion on the verity of her own visions. (Julian’s response was quite kind.) Thus an anchoress was not exactly lonely, and servants were usually assigned to take care of her mundane and earthly needs such as the bringing of meals, the washing of clothes, and the removal of the nightly slops.

Bibliography

For those who would like to know more about the life and period involved in this particular book, the following are some of the sources I consulted which may be of interest. As always, I blame any and all errors of fact or interpretation to the demands of fiction, at best, and to my ignorance, at worst.

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