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Showing posts with label middle ages. Show all posts
Showing posts with label middle ages. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Medieval Virginity Testing and Virginity Restoration

Welcome to History Undressed, guest authors, Karen Harris and Lori Caskey-Sigety! Harris and Caskey-Sigety have recently penned a new non-fiction book, The Medieval Vagina: An Hysterical and Historical Look at All Things Vaginal During the Middle Ages, now available on Amazon. Please enjoy their fascinating article--guaranteed to entertain!


Medieval Virginity Testing and Virginity Restoration


In the Middle Ages, virginity was a sought-after commodity, primarily because it was the surest method to guarantee paternity. The only way to make absolutely sure that a child born to a marriage--a child who would inherit property from his father--is a legitimate heir was to bed a virgin bride. Thus a high value was placed on virginity, making it a commodity of sorts. As with all things, once a value is assigned an object, people will go to great lengths to prove its authenticity and to regain it if it is lost. Such was the case with medieval virginity.
A unique feature of the vagina is that it comes hermetically sealed. For centuries, that seal, the hymen, has been the tangible proof of virginity. An intact hymen, or virgo intacta, offers evidence to the male block of society (the clergy, the courts, the crown, fathers, and future husbands…all the ones who have assigned a high monetary value to virginity) that determined its presence.
The most obvious way to verify a woman’s virginity was to inspect the hymen. While this was commonplace in the Middle Ages, it was not infallible. Some women are born without hymens and others rupture theirs prematurely doing the strenuous activities that comprised women’s work in the medieval era. It fell to midwives to do hymen inspections. Some midwives, demonstrating the bonds of sisterhood, declared a woman to be a virgo intacta when she clearly wasn’t. But most midwives were honest in their appraisal and their findings served to, in a sense, throw their fellow female under the medieval bus. Why would they do this? The thumb of oppression under which medieval women lived was so large, so omnipresent, so engrained in society, that most women believed the cultural rhetoric that labeled females as wicked, untrustworthy, inferior, and dishonest. To “fake” her findings to help another woman save face would be a bold and courageous move for a medieval woman who lived her whole live believing she belonged in the second-rate, subservient role. 
Most often, however, the absolute proof of the presence of virginity occurred as it was lost.  Honeymoon sheets streaked with blood was all the evidence a bridegroom needed to verify virginity. In fact, the bloody sheets were sometimes snatched from the bed and shown around to others as evidence of wedding night purity. Katherine of Aragon, legend says, kept her blood-stained honeymoon bedding for years and presented them to the court during the annulment case brought against her by Henry VIII. Yes, the spilling of virginal blood was proof of purity, but this, too, could be faked.
It wasn’t too difficult for a clever, yet soiled bride to acquire a vial of blood. Most medieval households had adjoining farms and animals were routinely butchered for dinner. A bit of chicken blood could easily be hidden in a piece of jewelry and spilled on to the sheets under the cover of darkness.
The first-night’s blood and the hymen inspection were tangible, medically-based ways to ascertain virginal status, however, equal validity was granted to spiritual and folkloric virginity tests. Virgins, it was believed, were endowed with magical powers and could quiet swarming bees, tame wild animals, hold water in their hands, and control the urge to urinate, among other things. Medieval medical books often included references to this last myth. To see if a maiden was truly a virgin, the medical books advised, have the woman drink large amounts of a diuretic. If she was able to refrain from visiting the little girls’ room, then she was, indeed, a virgin. But tinkling meant she was lying about her sexual experience. These same medical tomes also suggested a close inspection of woman’s urine as another way of verifying virginity. A pee sample that was crystal clear could only come from a virgin. 
This connection between peeing and virginity is closely connected to one of the other folkloric legends...virgins holding running water in their hands. One common way to test a maiden’s virginity status was to hand her a sieve and see if, in her pure and virginal hands, it would hold water. A leaky sieve was akin to a leaky bladder and signified a sullied maiden. Anecdotal evidence tells us that women could “cheat” the sieve test by simply coating the inside of the sieve with lanoline. This metaphor of the water-tight sieve was so prevalent in the Middle Ages that it can be seen in the symbolism of the art and literature of the time. The famous 1579 painting of Queen Elizabeth, the Virgin Queen, shows her holding a sieve, and Cesare Ripa’s 1611 woodcut illustration depicts the personification of Chastity, fighting off Cupid with one hand while holding a sieve in the other.
If the ability to hold her fluid was a hallmark of a virgin, the passing of water in general – urine, tears, water – all seemed to point to a sinful woman. The metaphor extended to include not only actual fluid, but verbal fluid as well. A talkative, gossipy woman became synonymous with loose morals; after all, if she easily opened one orifice, she would open them all. Here, I am reminded of Chaucer’s Wife of Bath, who rambles on and on in her lengthy Prologue before she even gets around to telling her tale.
Although virginity was such a valued commodity in the medieval era, it was not a renewable resource. Once it is gone, it is gone forever, for as St. Jerome noted in his Letter to Eustochium, “Although God is able to do anything, He cannot raise a virgin after she has been defiled.”  Of course, his words did nothing to discourage women, either those conscious of the economic value of virginity or ones attempting to erase a bad decision or two, from trying.
Much like virginity testing, virginity restoration techniques ran the gamut from medically-based remedies and potions to prayers, incantations, and pseudo-scientific quackery. Again we can look at medieval medical books and other texts to see directions for potions and remedies to restore virginity. One recipe said to boil together myrtle leaves and nettles without prickles in water then the woman should use this mixture to wash her feminine parts every morning and evening for nine days to restore her virginity. If one needed quicker results, another medical book advised placing ground up nutmeg in the vagina, and instantly virginity would return. Within the literary works of several people, including Ovid, Samual Pepys, John Wilmot, and John Baptista Porta, there are references to the use of alum water as a virginity restorer. Alum water is a chemical compound of hydrated potassium aluminum sulfate used to tan leather and pickle meats and set the dye in wool. A key property of alum water is that it is an astringent. It shrinks and tightens skin. So used in the vaginal area, alum water could shrink the tissue, giving the illusion of virginity, without actually replacing the hymen.
Fumigation was a common medical treatment option in the Middle Ages so it is not surprising that some virginity restoration techniques made use of fumigators. Vessels containing water mixed with some sort of herbal substance, often foul smelling ones, were heated over open fires until steam was produced. The steam was funneled through a tube inserted into a fallen woman’s vagina so the restorative properties of the herbs and steam could repair the ruptured hymen. Even more awkward was the use of perfumed resin, suppositories and rings that were inserted into the vagina of medieval women. These devices acted like a surrogate hymen, giving resistance during sexual penetration and thus, tricking the partner into thinking he was bedding a virgo intacta.
Other virginity restoration techniques concerned the spiritual, rather than the physical. In the Penitential of Finnian, written in the early years of the Middle Ages (525-550), a penance is offered as a way to reclaim absent virginity. This is also a lengthy process, for, “She must live for six years on bread and water and in the seventh year, she shall be joined to the alter; and them we say her crown can be restored and she may don a white robe and be pronounced a virgin.”
In keeping with her name, the Virgin Mary made appearances in numerous medieval texts as a virginity doctor. Stories abound about helpless maidens whose virginity was taken by force, but the Virgin Mary would appear and assure the victims that their virginity would be restored, even if a child was born. Sometimes, the maiden didn’t need to be the victim of a rape for the Virgin Mary to make her a born-again virgin...she just needed to feel really guilty about giving into the fleshly temptation.
What we know about medieval virginity is that it had less to do with values and morals, and more to do with ownership and trust. The sexual status of a medieval woman was very much a public matter because her virginity, so they thought in the Middle Ages, was not hers to own. Rather, a woman’s intact hymen was “owned” by a man, either her father or her husband. Verifying virginity was the only way that a future husband could feel confident that his bride was pure because simply asking her about her past infidelities was unheard of. Women were eyed with suspicion in medieval times and it was common knowledge that all women were prone to lying and easily tempted by carnal desires. Coupling that attitude with the economic and spiritual value of virginity and it is no wonder that an experienced lady sought to reclaim her most valued asset, her virginity, and the reputation that came along with it.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS:

Karen Harris is a college instructor by day and a writer by night. Writing offers Karen a chance to dabble in her other areas of interest, including history and science. She has written numerous freelance articles and feature stories for publication. She is a hobby farmer, environmental volunteer, and advocate for volunteer firefighters.

Lori Caskey-Sigety started writing in 1991. She hasn’t stopped. Her writing includes blogs, book reviews, essays, lyrics, plays, poems, and puppet shows. Lori has authored two poetry books, and her other works have appeared in Wildfire Magazine, Orlo, Indiana Libraries, and Public Libraries. She is an artist, college instructor, librarian, and musician.


BOOK DESCRIPTION:

  In the Middle Ages much like today, the vagina conjured fear and repulsion, yet it held an undeniable allure. In the Medieval Vagina, the authors explore this paradox while unearthing medieval myths, attitudes and contradictions surrounding this uniquely feminine and deeply mysterious organ.
  What euphemisms did medieval people have for the vagina? Did medieval women use birth control? How was rape viewed in the Middle Ages? How was the vagina incorporated into literature, poetry, music, and art? How did medieval women cope with menstruation? The Medieval Vagina delves into these topics, and others, while introducing the reader to a collection of fascinating medieval women – Pope Joan, Lady Frances Howard, Margery Kempe, Sister Benedetta Carlini, and Chaucer’s Wife of Bath – who all shaped our view of the medieval vagina. 
   The Medieval Vagina takes a quick-paced, humorous peek into the medieval world; a time when religious authority combined with newly emerging science and medicine, classic literature, and folklore to form a deeply patriarchal society. It may have been a man’s world, but the vagina triumphed over oppression and misogyny.


Website:
            snarkpublishing.weebly.com

Amazon link:

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

What NOT to Wear in the 14th Century by Amanda Forester

Welcome back to History Undressed, guest author, Amanda Forester. Ms. Forester last visited us in March of 2010 with her post, Color Me Medieval. I'm glad to have her back today, and with another exciting Scottish historical romance out!


What Not to Wear in the 14th Century
by Amanda Forester



One of the most interesting, or at least the most time consuming, aspects of writing historical fiction is conducting all the research.  Clothing is one of the biggest questions I need to figure out before my characters can step forth on their journey.  In my newest release, The Highlander's Heart, the heroine is an English countess.  The date is 1355.  The question: what would she wear?



In the first scene Isabelle (Countess of Tynsdale) is separated, or I should say separates herself, from her traveling companions (and the guards who are taking her back to be killed).  As I wrote the scene I had to try to picture what she might be wearing.  We're in medieval England, so obviously she will be wearing some sort of gown, but what fabric? 



Sumptuary laws can be a help.  In the 14th century, the rise of a prosperous merchant class became a bother for the nobility.  The upstart commoners were gaining as much wealth as the established aristocracy and could start dressing the part (oh, the horror).  Can you imagine the daughter of a merchant wearing a similar gown as the daughter of an earl?  Certainly not!  Sumptuary laws strictly governed what people of different classes could wear so the privilege and rank of the aristocracy could be maintained, and the prosperous bourgeoisie could be kept in their place.  In particular, women were not to wear clothing above the rank of their fathers or husbands.  Certain fabrics, such as velvet, silk, ermine, or sable fur were prohibited to "commoners".  Since my heroine is a countess, it would be likely her clothing would reflect her rank, thus I dressed her in a rich wine-colored velvet. 



But wait, I am getting ahead of myself.  What about underclothes?  Under her gown, a medieval lady would have worn a linen or silk chemise, which was a loose fitting smock-like dress.  She would have worn hose, though usually only to the knee, and leather shoes, which in the 14th century would have had a pointed toe.  These shoes were generally for castle use; if going outdoors, one would put on wooden patens to avoid getting wet feet.



Over the chemise, a lady would wear her gown called a kirtle.  In the 14th century, the previous fashion of straight seams and draped garments were giving way to curved seams and more careful tailoring.  Since Lady Isabelle is noble, I expect her clothes would have had the benefit of time and money, so likley her gown would have fit her quite well.  Since she would have had ladies to dress her, she would probably have been laced into her gown in a way not possible if you were dressing yourself.  Her sleeves would have been form fitting and long, perhaps to her knuckles.  These long sleeves would have been laced or buttoned in place.  The neckline of this era was becoming wider and lower, and may even have revealed a little cleavage. 



Over the kirtle, a medieval lady may have worn a variety of different kinds of overgowns.  Some may have had loose fitting sleeves, while others were sleeveless (called surcoats), which may have been worn loose or laced. Later in the 14th century, surcoats became shorter, ending at the waistline, and were often form fitting to reveal a small waist.  A belt was commonly worn, hanging low on the hips.  These belts, or girdles, could be quite ornate.  Sumptuary laws forbade commoners from wearing a silver girdle, so clearly the nobility were using their belts to show their rank.  These belt could be quite fine and even encrusted with jewels.



On her head a lady would wear some sort of covering.  Being married, Isabelle's veil would be more modest, possibly including a gorget, which wrapped around the chin and covered the neck.  Being a lady, she would most likely wear a veil made of silk.  Unfortunately for Isabelle, she loses her veil during her escape, and so when she meets the hero, Laird David Campbell, he assumes she is not of high social standing or moral character.  No true lady would be traveling alone with her hair flowing loose.  Thus begins the story of David and Isabelle!



I have always loved the long flowing gowns and rich colors and fabrics of medieval times.  What would you have enjoyed wearing if you were living in the 14th century?  Comment on the blog for a chance to win a copy of THE HIGHLANDER'S HEART. (US & CANADA ONLY)

THE HIGHLANDER'S HEART

Lady Isabelle escapes her murderous English husband only to be abducted by a Highland warrior and held for ransom.  Her determination to break free from captivity is exceeded only by the passion growing between her and the Highland Laird.  David Campbell plans to hold Isabelle for ransom as an easy way to line his pockets and return her back where she belongs, but he is unprepared for a feisty English lass with a penchant for finding trouble.  Caught between rival clans bent on claiming the throne of Scotland, Campbell must choose a side, and a bride.  Standing on the brink of war, Isabelle may be his only hope to save his clan, and his heart

Visit Amanda:  website, facebook, or twitter.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Guest Author Blythe Gifford on Cross Dressing in the Middle Ages


Please join me in welcoming guest author, Blythe Gifford! Today she is here to tantalize us with her article, Cross Dressing in the Middle Ages.



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Joan of Arc may be the most famous cross dresser of the Middle Ages, but as I researched my September release from Harlequin Historical, I discovered she was hardly the only one.

I took heart from that when I wrote IN The MASTER’S BED. In it, my medieval heroine runs away from home disguised as a man in order to study at the University. At that time, women were not even allowed into the living quarters to do laundry, let alone into the classrooms to take courses. My heroine ends up living in the 14th century equivalent of a fraternity house, where she manages to maintain her secret for longer than you might expect.

Strictly fiction, you might say. But no. There is a reliable account of a woman in medieval Poland who attended the university there for two years before she was discovered. Her story had a happy ending. She was not punished, but, revered for her scholarship, joined a convent and became the abbess. Like my heroine, when she was disguised, this woman lived in an all men’s hostel and “behaved properly toward others, did not frequent the baths, and attended the lectures diligently.” (Note: I’ve listed the sources for this post below.)

This happened less than fifty years after my story is set, so I felt totally justified in thinking that it COULD have happened the way I wrote it.

In fact, the idea of a woman dressed as a man was not as foreign to medieval people as we might think. Marjorie Garber says the “transvestite female saints of the Middle Ages were legion as well as legend.” At least thirty have been counted. When the miracles started coming, some of these women were even graced with beards.

The common thread in the stories of these cross-dressing saints is that the woman suffers a personal crisis and reinvents herself as a man. In the words of St. Jerome: “As long as a woman is for birth and children she is different from man as body is from soul. But when she wishes to serve Christ more than the world, then she will cease to be a woman, and will be called man."

This is, of course, consistent with the medieval concept of the hierarchy of the universe: God, priest, man, and then, woman, who only reaches God when given permission by the two ahead of her.

The women saints who chose the path of pants were a colorful lot. One, a prostitute, converted to Christianity, changed her name, and dressed as a man. No one discovered her real sex until after her death.

Another, disguised as a monk and accused of fathering a child, refused to expose her true sex in order to prove her innocence. She was expelled from the brotherhood and, still living as a man, raised the child. Seven years later, she was accepted back into the monastery and lived as a man until discovered to be a woman after death. (No reports of who raised the seven year old child after that.)

Yet a third woman, prohibited from joining the monastery, dressed as a man so successfully that she was elected an abbot of the house. Then, accused of rape, she revealed her identity and proved her innocence by baring her breasts in the middle of the court before her father. (Freud, had he lived in medieval times, would have had a field day with that one. I have visions of the monks repeating this tale with relish over cognac and cigars after dinner.)

No male saints, apparently, felt it necessary to don a skirt to grow closer to God. Then, as now, it was more acceptable for a woman to don pants than the other way around.





That is not to imply that it was accepted. The book of Deuteronomy stated "The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man” and medieval audiences took that literally. When Joan of Arc was condemned to death for heresy, her mode of dress was a key issue at her trial. Yet unlike so many of her fellow saints, Joan didn’t pretend to be a man. She just thought that riding astride at the head of an army was easier without a skirt in the way.

Of course, she was right, something even Thomas Aquinas, himself a saint, understood. He knew it was “sinful for a woman to wear man's clothes, or vice versa, especially since this may be a cause of sensuous pleasure.” But he allowed a pass under certain circumstances, stating that it might not be a sin if done “on account of some necessity, either in order to hide oneself from enemies, or through lack of other clothes, or for some similar motive."

And there are examples aplenty of such motives, such as ease and safety when traveling. There are also examples of women who dressed as men in order to save a husband’s life. Two such German tales tell of the wife disguising herself as a man to visit her imprisoned husband, who faces execution because he committee adultery. Dressed as a man, the wife then switches clothes with him and he escapes, leaving her in prison. (This is lauded as the epitome of wifely virtue. Twentieth century women can only ask What was she thinking?) In court, she reveals all, again, yes, by baring her breasts.

There are reports of women dressing as men during the Pre-Lenten carnival and sneaking into a monastery, though no report on what they did once inside. While this all sounds like good, Mardi Gras fun, the reality could be quite different. In Nuremberg, Germany, in 1481, a woman was put into the basement prison for her offense, presumably the standard punishment.

Earlier, the city had banished a woman for nine years because she “walked about in manly ways and wore man’s clothes.” Banishment was the lighter punishment under consideration. The other option was to bury her alive. Of course, this woman was also accused of “permitting her brothers and cousins to have sex with her,” so that might have been the burying offense.

But wait, you say. Were there no men who felt the need to cavort in women’s garb? Well, yes, there were. There are reliable accounts of Franciscan friars escaping the monastery, dressed as woman, to run through the streets. In Women and Gender in Medieval Europe, Margaret Shaus calls the practice “ubiquitous.” It tended to happen, however, during holiday celebrations, the Feast of Misrule or the Pre-Lenten carnivals, when it was practiced by “ebullient, usually youthful, male revelers.”

Exactly the type you would find in a university hostel.

At the University of Paris, those in charge complained that “Priests and clerks…dance in the choir dressed as women, or disreputable men, or minstrels.” There are repeated prohibitions by University governance bodies against loud singing and playing of music, dancing in the streets, and dramatics. The regularity of these pronouncements suggests their ineffectiveness. Then, as now, copious quantities of alcohol were necessary to higher education, and likely contributed to frolicking in the streets in various states of dress.

In discussing cross-dressing, I have not explored sexual preferences or gender identity.

There is a reliable report of a man at Oxford, who called himself Eleanor and worked as a prostitute. He was accused of practicing the “abominable vice” with “three unsuspecting scholars.” It is not clear from the records whether these “unsuspecting” innocents knew his sex at the time. They reportedly visited him “in the marsh,” so they may not have disrobed, but they also visited “Eleanor” often.

Often enough to know?

That, we will leave to the mists of history.

I hope you enjoyed this look backward at an “undressed” part of history and welcome your comments and thoughts.

Sources for this post include: Clothes Make the Man: Female Cross dressing in the Middle Ages, by Valerie R. Hotchkiss; From Boys to Men, Formations of Masculinity in Late Medieval Europe, Ruth Mazo Karras; Vested Interests: Cross Dressing and Cultural Anxiety, Marjorie B. Barber; The Cambridge companion to medieval women’s writing, Dinshaw and Wallace; Women and Gender in Medieval Europe, Margaret Shaus; Obscenity: Social Control and Artistic Creation in the European Middle Ages, Jan Ziolkowski; The Seekers: The story of man’s continuing quest to understand his world, Daniel Joseph Boorstin; A Female University Student in Late Medieval Kraków, by Michael H. Shank, published in Signs, Vol. 12, No. 2, Reconstructing the Academy, Winter, 1987, pp. 373-380, and Wickepedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cross-dressing,_sexuality,_and_gender_identity_of_Joan_of_Arc#cite_note-6.org/wiki/Cross-dressing,_sexuality,_and_gender_identity_of_Joan_of_Arc#cite_note-6)
Picture of Joan of Arc, public domain, from Centre Historique des Archives Nationales, Paris, AE II 2490


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Author Bio: BLYTHE GIFFORD (http://www.blythegifford.com/)is the author of a four medieval romances from Harlequin Historical, three of which feature characters born on the wrong side of the royal blanket. Her September release from Harlequin Historical line is IN The MASTER’s BED. When not nurturing her first love, writing historical romance, she feeds her muse with art, music, history, long walks, good food and good friends.


(Cover Art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved ®and T are trademarks of Harlequin Enterprises Limited and/or its affiliated companies, used under license.)