Sex, Society, and Social Thought

Some thirteenth-century canonists and theologians attempted to modify older ideas concerning sexuality, particularly marital sexuality.¹⁷ Legislators, at the

¹³See generally Johannes Fried, Die Entstehung des Juristenstandes im 12.

¹⁴Fried, Entstehung des Juristenstandes, pp. 115-39, 218-23.

¹⁵C. N. S. Woolf, Bartolus of Sassoferrato: His Position in the History of Medieval Political Thought (Cambridge: At the University Press, 1913); Julius Kirschner, “Bartolo da Sassoferrato," in DMA 2:114-16; Anna T. Sheedy, Bartolus on Social Conditions in the Fourteenth Century, Studies in History, Economics, and Public Law, no. 495 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1942).

¹⁶See generally Robert S. Gottfried, The Black Death: A Natural and Human Disas­ter in Medieval Europe (New York: Free Press, 1983), and “Black Death,” in DMA 2:257—67; Philip Ziegler, The Black Death (London: Collins, 1969).

¹⁷Jacques Rossiaud, “Prostitution, Youth, and Society in the Towns of Southeastern France in the Fifteenth Century,” in Deviants and the Abandoned in French Society: Selections from the Annales: economies, societes, civilisations, ed.

While most authors maintained the conventional view that sex in Paradise was radically different from sex in this sinful world,^[1609] some challenged the re­ceived wisdom on this matter. St. Albert the Great (ca. 1208-80) dismissed this as an empty assertion. Sex, Albert held, was a natural act and its nature did not change as a result of original sin. Certainly the biology of sex was the same, he maintained, and sexual arousal and desire had not been fundamentally different in Eden than in the postlapsarian world.^[1610] Alberts view that sex was part of God’s original creation, rather than a result of man’s rebellion against the cre­ator, formed the basis for a naturalistic approach that characterized his treat­ment of sexual morality.

Albert the Great’s innovative views failed to attract a significant following. Even his most famous pupil, Thomas Aquinas (1224—74), rejected Albert’s sex­ual teachings and clung instead to the Augustinian-Stoic tradition that viewed sexual desire and venereal pleasure as results of sin.^[1611] Thomas repeatedly ar­gued that lust was a disorder because it undermined reason, and this in turn caused it to corrupt both morals and judgment. These views were echoed by Nicholas of Lyra (d. 1349?) and Guido of Baysio among others.²³ The lusts of the flesh, Nicholas observed, were so powerful that they survived baptism, and thus few Christians ever attained complete sexual denial.²¹

The ubiquity of sexual sin was a favorite topic of late thirteenth-century preachers and moralists who decried the pervasiveness of lechery even among faithful Christians.

The perception that sexual license abounded was not solely the product of the fevered imaginations of a few celibate clerics. Those who sought examples needed to look only at the career of James the Conqueror, King of Aragon and Catalunya (1208-76). While he was married to Princess Violant of Hungary (the second of his four wives), by whom he had nine children, James was also involved with four mistresses, by whom he sired three more children.²⁷ James

but added that prelapsarian sex lacked the lustful pleasure that was born of sin. See also Noonan, Contraception, pp. 252-54.

²³ST 1-2.33.4 and 34.1. ^ad ¹; ST2-2.55.8ad 1; also Aquinas, OnKingshiptotheKing of Cyprus 2.8.144, 147, trans. Gerald B. Phelan, rev. I. Th. Eschmann (Toronto: Pon­tifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1949), pp. 78-80; Muller, Lehre des hl. Au­gustinus, p. 257; Nicholas of Lyra, Postilla to Gen. 3:7 v. et fecerunt sibi perizomata-, Guido of Baysio, Rosarium to C. 32 q. 7 c. 12, fol. 350va.

²¹ Nicholas of Lyra, Postilla to 1 Cor. 7:2V. propter fornicationem.

²⁵Alexander Murray, “Religion among the Poor in Thirteenth-Century France: The Testimony of Humbert de Romans,” Traditio 30 (1974) 314.

^2tiFrederic C. Tubach, Index exemplorum: A Handbook of Medieval Religious Tales, Finnish Academy of Sciences, Communications, no. 204 (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tie- deakatemia, 1969) shows these frequencies for explicit sexual themes:

By way of comparison, monks receive 190 entries, wives 90, usury 74, marriage 33, widows 26, husbands 22, and widowers only one.

²⁷Burns, “Spiritual Life of James the Conqueror,” pp. 26-27. was outstanding, even in a heroic age of lechery, but his determined pursuit of sexual variety was by no means unique.

The inquisitors at the village of Montaillou, not far across the Pyrenees from James’ domains, discovered astonishingly complex networks of sexual involve­ment among people at all levels of the social hierarchy. Either men or women might initiate these affairs and they did not confine themselves to partners of their own social class.^[1612] The inquisitors interested themselves in the people of Montaillou because they suspected (with good reason, it turned out) that many villagers belonged to the Cathar sect. The struggle against Cathars who held marriage worthless and procreation sinful colored Catholic writing and thinking about sexual topics in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Opposition to Catharism led Catholic authorities to insist even more urgently than before that marriage was a sacrament and procreation its primary goal.^[1613]

Some popular writers of the period described sex as a manifestation of the forces of nature, which they personified as a subordinate female deity who op­erated in her own way according to rules that did not necessarily conform to those of the Creator—this view surfaces plainly in the Roman de la Rose, for example, especially in the continuation of the poem by Jean de Meung (d. ca. 1305).^[1614] A remarkable synthesis of Catholic theology and fin amors appears in the Breviari d’amor of the Franciscan, Matfre Ermengau (d. 1322). Matfre de­scribed a veritable theology of love. In Matfre s poem, love figured as the off­spring of nature and the narrator used the metaphor of the tree of nature to explain his cosmology. Atop the tree, the source of all else, was God; beneath him was nature, who ruled all created beings. Nature, in turn, was the source of natural law and of the jus gentium. Sexual love descended from natural law, of which it was a product.

A few theologians took positions akin to those of the love poets, but conven­tional theologians and canonists distanced themselves from such fancies. Sex, Hostiensis was inclined to think, was a nuisance and a distraction. He quoted with approval Jerome’s statement that men who had sex easily available would not be able to give their minds wholeheartedly to God.^[1616] St. Bonaventure (ca. 1217-74) was even more emphatic: “The sexual act itself,” he wrote, “is dis­eased, for it cannot be performed without disorder,” that is without perturba­tion of body and spirit.^[1617] No one denied that sex was pleasant: that was its snare, for attached to the pleasure were shame, defilement, and in the aftermath a depression that resulted, as Nicholas OfLyrabelieved, from the strength of car­nal passion.^[1618] The Archdeacon, Guido de Baysio, agreed and added that it mattered not whether a married couple performed the sex act or whether it conformed to the prescriptions of nature: in any case sex invariably resulted in shame and defilement.^[1619] According to the civilian Oldradus da Ponte (d. after 1337), sex was a kind of madness; thus, Oldradus added, a man in the throes of passion could not be charged with perjury if he subsequently failed to fulfill commitments that he made under oath while in that fevered condition.^[1620]

Sexual pleasure was dangerous for yet another reason: experiencing even a little of it kindled a burning desire for more. By its nature sex was a greedy pleasure: just as a tiny spark can ignite a pile of dry wood, so the slightest sexual tingle could set off a burst of insatiable passion. Sexual moderation, if not im­possible, was at least highly improbable and therein lay the peril of exposing oneself to any sort of titillation.^[1621] The taboo against nudity seems to have been particularly strong.

Sexual indulgence held still further dangers, Aquinas warned. Those who indulged in sex, married or not, were weakened and debilitated as a result. Thus in wartime wise commanders cast women forth from their camps, so that soldiers might not spend their strength in carnal indulgence.^[1624] Bonaventure was convinced that frequent intercourse was dangerous to the health and that every sex act helped to shorten one’s life. ^[1625] Here Bonaventure, himself the son of a physician, differed from the prevailing medical views of his time, for physicians commonly taught that regular sexual intercourse was essential for health. This was the view of Galen, who had described celibacy as unnatural and commended the example of the Cynic, Diogenes, who had prescribed masturbation as a re­lief from the unhealthy tensions of continence. Galcn taught that people had a natural need for sexual relief and compared this to the need for bowel move­ments and urination. Medieval medical authorities respected Galen’s teachings, but found themselves troubled by the resulting conflict between the demands of health and morals.^[1626]

Dangerous as it might be, sex was inescapably woven into the fabric of the universe.^[1627] Moreover the sexual distinction between men and women was part of the human constitution and was, Nicholas of Lyra asserted, a requirement for human perfection.^[1628] Of the two sexes, men were the more perfect. Aquinas agreed. Women, he declared, were created for the subordinate role of assisting men to carry out the divine plan, specifically by making possible the continua­tion of the human race. Aquinas accepted the Augustinian belief that the pri­mary function of the female was procreation, while her lack of strength, both mental and physical, meant that she was unfit for more central roles in human affairs/³ His contemporaries, canonists and theologians alike, shared these views. Bernard of Parma put the matter bluntly in his Glossa ordinaria on the Liber Extra:

A woman on the other hand should not have [jurisdictional] power.... because she is not made in the image of God; rather man is the image and glory of God and woman ought to be subject to man and, as it were, like his servant, since man is the head of the woman and not the other way about.^{[1629] [1630]}

Men were fitted to rule, the argument ran, because their mental faculties were more acute than those of women.^[1631]

Female inferiority resulted from women’s biological constitution. Women were stout and wide below, but slender and more graceful above the waist, ac­cording to the unflattering description of Nicholas of Lyra. These anatomical differences, in turn, resulted from women’s natural coldness, which allowed their nutriments to pass downward and settle in the lower parts of their bodies. Men, on the other hand, were naturally endowed with greater heat, which re­sulted in their having wider chests, broader shoulders, and larger heads than women. In consequence the food that men consumed was quickly processed in the upper part of their bodies, so that they tended to be hefty above and slender below the waist. Women, because they were cooler, took longer to di­gest their food, so that it wound up in the lower part of their bodies.^[1632] These anatomical stereotypes, which sometimes appear in late medieval and renais­sance art (see for example Pls. 16 and 17) were held to account for other attributes commonly ascribed to women. They were said to be variable and changeable because of the delicacy of their physical constitution and, for the same reason, softhearted and yielding.^{[1633] [1634]}

At the same time, women were expected to be shy, retiring, coy, and modest about sexual matters. Women usually blush when sex is mentioned, said Hos- tiensis,³Â° and both Aquinas and Bonaventure agreed that women preferred to speak about sex in circumlocutions. Thus when a woman says that she yearns for a baby, what she really means is that she lusts for sex.^[1635] Married men needed to be sensitive to this shyness, since their wives may be in need of sexual inter­course yet too shy to say so. Husbands should not wait for their wives to make outright demands for sex, but should be sensitive to their unspoken signs, ac­cording to William of Pagula (fl. 1314-31).^[1636]

Behind the veil of modesty lurked the specter of insatiable female sexual appetite. The argument from anatomy was used to justify the belief that women in general, and young women in particular, found sensual stimulation irresisti­ble.^[1637] Hostiensis described this forthrightly. Women are always ready for sex, he declared, and they need no preparation for it. A priest who journeyed with two young women, so that one rode in front of him and the other behind, could never swear that the one in back was a virgin. Men, he continued, are differ­ently constituted, although he acknowledged that a few sexually precocious males could do astounding things.^[1638]

But despite these common beliefs about female lustiness, canonists none­theless maintained that both law and morality required a higher standard of sexual restraint from women than from men. Innocent IV sought to account for this by arguing that men were like Christ, who was joined first to the synagogue and then to the Church. Thus no harm was done if a man “divided his flesh” between several women. But women, Innocent continued, were like the Church, which always remained a virgin, at least mentally, and hence a woman who “divided her flesh” between several men betrayed her symbolic archetype.^[1639]

Women, accordingly, had a duty to maintain a higher degree of sexual mod­esty than was demanded of men. Modesty is womans peculiar strength, accord­ing to Johannes Andreae, and immodest women might cause men to commit murder and other horrid crimes, as David did when he was bewitched by the sight OfBathsheba bathing.³⁶

Given the dangers on both sides, legal and theological writers of this period wished to see contact between men and women restricted and closely super­vised. It was possible for men to be led astray by looking at women or talking to them; one anonymous commentator recalled the advice of Gregory the Great that one should love women as if they were sisters, but flee from them as if they were enemies.^{[1640] [1641] Confessors needed to be especially careful about their conduct with women. They must avoid conversation that might seem suggestive or that might put ideas for more adventurous sins into the heads of penitents."[1642] [1643] Nicho­las of Lyra likewise noted with approval the custom practiced in royal house­holds of keeping young women of the ruling family locked up out of sight, so that sexual temptations would be minimized.39 Married women, regardless of class, Nicholas added, should be subject to their husbands, but as companions, not as slaves.[1644]}

The pervasiveness of sexual sins and the temptation to commit them were not entirely due to human perversity nor were they wholly under the individ­ual’s control, according to many writers. Arabic astrological treatises, several of which circulated widely in Latin translations, maintained that sexual prefer­ences, the size and condition of the genital organs, the extent of sexual activity, and other aspects of sexual behavior were determined by the positions of the planets, especially Venus and Mars, at the time of the individual’s birth.^[1645] In­born proclivities could, however, be modified by medical intervention, accord­ing to physicians of this period. Several writers prescribed anaphrodisiac mea­sures that could reduce the sex drive and thus make life easier for those who sought chastity.^[1646] In any case, Nicholas of Lyra advised his readers, the problem would sooner or later take care of itself, for after the age of sixty, he declared, lust cools off, and sexual temptation fades away.⁶³

Several sectarian groups in this period rejected the views of the established Church concerning the sinfulness of sex, either marital or nonmarital. The be­lief that pleasure was no sin and that sexual relations carried no moral stigma, so long as they were agreeable to both parties, apparently continued to persist, especially in rural communities. The Runcarian heretics, who held that what­ever was done below the belt was no sin, allegedly made this a part of their teaching. Exponents of orthodoxy, in turn, insisted all the more vehemently that sex of any kind outside of marriage, as well as many kinds of sex within marriage, were grievously sinful. Sexual beliefs and practices, therefore, be­came tests of religious orthodoxy.'^,'

While Catholic theologians universally condemned the view that sex was not sinful, one author of unquestioned orthodoxy questioned the conventional belief that pleasure of any kind was a moral failing. Richard Middleton, a Franciscan theologian who wrote about 1272, reported the opinion of “certain” unnamed theologians that pleasure was a legitimate human goal. Although he did not explicitly advocate this position, Middleton reported the view without censure. According to Middleton, advocates of the legitimacy of pleasure ar­gued that Augustine’s use of the term “fault” (culpa) to describe pleasure did not mean that pleasure was sinful, but rather that it was less than perfect. Fur­ther, Middleton reported, those anonymous theologians who supported the le­gitimacy of pleasure maintained that what was morally wrong was not pleasure itself, but the compulsive, unrestrained pursuit of it—“Man does not sin,” they declared, “every time he takes a bite of food in order to savor its taste.” Simi­larly marital sex was free from blame so long as it was enjoyed in moderation. Marriage was not ordained for reproduction alone; in addition to its procreative purpose, marriage prevented fornication by channeling sexual desire into the acceptable outlet of marital relations. Further, having sex with one’s wife in order to promote one’s own bodily health was no sin either.⁶⁵ Like the views of Albert the Great, however, those reported by Richard Middleton failed to com­mand widespread acceptance among the learned. Much more common was the argument that although sex itself was morally indifferent, the pleasure that ac­companied it was wicked. Hence marital sex was free from sin only so long as no one enjoyed it.⁶⁶

⁶³Nicholas of Lyra, Postilla to 1 Tim. 5:9 V. non minus lx. annorum.

⁶⁴ William of Auxerre, Summa aurea in quattuor Iibros Sententiarum (Paris: P. Pigou- chetti, 1500; repr. Frankfurt a/M: Minerva, 1964), fol. 18rb-va; Albertus Magnus, Summa theologica 2.18.122.1.1, in his Opera, ed. Picrrc Jammy, 21 vols. (Lyon: Claudius Prost [etc.], 1651); LeRoy Ladurie, Montaillou, p. 151; Lerner, Heresy of the free Spirit, pp. 17-18; Alphandery, Les idees morales, p. 185 n. 1.

⁶⁵Richard Middleton, Commentarium super quarto Sententiarum 31.3.2 and resp. ad 4 (Venice: Bonetus Locatellus, 1499), fol. 207vb; Noonan, Contraception, p. 295.

“Lindner, Usus matrimonii, pp. 117-18; Noonan, Contraception, pp. 198, 293.

Writers of the late thirteenth century laid greater emphasis than their prede­cessors had on the notion that marriage and marital sex were directed not only toward procreation but also toward child rearing. Thus Nicholas of Lyra argued by analogy with the animal world that monogamy was commanded because of the necessity of cooperation between mates in order to nourish, educate, and provide for the welfare of their offspring. Among animals such as dogs, Nicholas observed, the female alone cares for the pups, and promiscuity is normal. But among other creatures, such as doves, successful nurture of the young requires the cooperation of both parents. Hence, Nicholas argued, the mating pattern among those animals, and also among humans, requires permanent union of the male and female. Promiscuity cannot be tolerated because it conflicts with the needs of the offspring.⁶⁷ Major writers such as Aquinas and Nicholas of Lyra, as well as such lesser figures as Humbert de Prully, Johann von Sterngassen, and Hugh of Newcastle, observed that although both parents were necessary for the proper upbringing of the young, the tie between mother and child was closer than that between father and child.⁶⁸ Besides, one author wryly added, maternity was a matter of fact, but paternity was a matter of opinion.⁶⁹