- MGH
Monumenta Germaniae Historia
- Cap.
Capitularia regum francorum
- Conc.
Concilia
- Epp.
Epistolae
- SRG
Scriptores rerum germanicorum in usum scholarum separatim editi
The abduction of women was seen as a significant problem in eighth- and ninth-century Francia. Several notorious cases involved royal women and prominent laymen; both Lothar i, emperor of Lotharingia, and his brother Charles the Bald, king of West Francia, had a daughter abducted.Footnote 1 This article examines the Carolingian text that gives the fullest discussion of abduction, Hincmar of Rheims's De coercendo et exstirpando raptu viduarum, puellarum ac sanctimonialium,Footnote 2 showing the author's creation of a theological view on this social issue.
Carolingian secular legislation and conciliar canons repeatedly condemn raptus. Although in some texts from the period raptus probably means rape,Footnote 3 more commonly the meaning is abduction (or sometimes elopement). One eighth-century capitulary defines raptus as ‘he who takes a free woman against the will of her relatives’.Footnote 4 Marriage by abduction has a long history in many cultures where arranged marriages are the norm, as a marginal alternative to such marriages.Footnote 5 Such abductions, however, were potentially very socially disruptive. At best, parental authority was flouted; at worst, they might lead to serious violence.Footnote 6 From the fourth century, therefore, Roman emperors treated raptus as a public offence and legislated against it.Footnote 7 Merovingian kings did likewise.Footnote 8
Since the underlying motivation of raptus was usually marriage, discussions paid considerable attention to the marital status of the rapta: the normal distinctions were between girls who were not yet betrothed, betrothed girls, widows and nuns. Secular penalties were sometimes extremely harsh. A law of Constantine (Codex Theodosianus ix.24.1) decreed equivalent punishment (implicitly, the death penalty) for the raptor, his accomplices and an unmarried girl who consented to her raptus.Footnote 9 In addition, the girl's nurse (nutrix), assumed to be an abettor, was punished by having molten lead poured down her throat. If the parents subsequently came to an agreement with the raptor and allowed the marriage, they themselves would be subject to exile.Footnote 10 Childebert ii in 595 ordered raptores to be killed or exiled; the same penalty applied to the woman if she had consented to the raptus.Footnote 11
In contrast, while the earliest recension of Salic law condemned abductions, fines were the only penalties unless the unfree were involved.Footnote 12 Formularies show a process in which an abduction marriage could be made into a normal marriage by the subsequent endowment of the bride.Footnote 13 There was also relatively little early conciliar legislation on raptus, and theologians generally took a more lenient attitude than Constantine, unless consecrated women were involved.Footnote 14 Merovingian conciliar decrees focus on the abduction of nuns.Footnote 15
This situation changed under the Carolingians: raptus was now described as an offence against both ‘human and divine authority’.Footnote 16 Yet although all Carolingian texts condemned raptus and agreed that the perpetrators must be punished, there was disagreement on one key aspect: whether or not a valid marriage could ever result from an act of raptus. Councils were consistent in ruling that raptores could not marry nuns or women consecrated to God,Footnote 17 and human or divine punishment is sometimes recorded for the perpetrators.Footnote 18 More contentious was whether a raptor could abduct and subsequently marry an unmarried girl, either betrothed or not. Salic law did not require betrothed girls to be returned to their fiancés,Footnote 19 but from the early ninth century some regulations specifically banned the raptor and the rapta from marrying in this case.Footnote 20 The prohibition against subsequent marriage was also extended by some councils to raptores of girls who were not yet betrothed.Footnote 21 Yet other near-contemporary councils did allow such marriages, if the girl and her parents consented subsequently. The Council of Meaux-Paris in 845–6, for example, allowed the subsequent marriage of a raptor (after penance) with a widow, a virgin or even a betrothed girl.Footnote 22 In contrast, the Council of Pavia in 850 insisted on maintaining the ‘statutes of the ancient Fathers’ in which a legitimate marriage with the raptor was not possible.Footnote 23
These differences do not indicate any ambiguity about raptus itself, as is sometimes claimed.Footnote 24 Moralists who allowed a valid marriage to be made from raptus instead stressed the need for damage limitation.Footnote 25 Baldwin of Flanders, for example, was anathematised by the West Frankish bishops after his (consensual) raptus of Charles the Bald's widowed daughter Judith in 862.Footnote 26 However, Baldwin sought help from Pope Nicholas i, and achieved reconciliation with Charles and a legal marriage.Footnote 27 Nicholas, in his intervention, stressed that he asked for mercy for Baldwin and did not demand Charles's forgiveness,Footnote 28 but that he was concerned: ‘lest something still worse may perhaps arise from this’.Footnote 29
De coercendo
Carolingian councils and capitularies condemned raptus, but provided no theological justification for their views: at most, earlier canons are cited. This explains the significance of De coercendo et exstirpando raptu viduarum, puellarum ac sanctimonialium. Its author, Hincmar, archbishop of Rheims (845–82), was not only a politician, historian and liturgist, but also a canonist, who produced some of the most extensive and significant discussions on marriage in the Carolingian period.Footnote 30 He played a prominent role in West Frankish synods from the early 840s, including the Council of Meaux-Paris and the synod in 862 which anathematised Baldwin and Judith. (A letter of his to Nicholas i from 864 expresses his unhappiness at the fact that the pope had not specified that Baldwin and Judith had to do penance for the act of raptus.)Footnote 31 The precise date of De coercendo is unclear, although passages common to this text and to De divortio Lotharii regis et Tetbergae reginae suggest that it dates to 860 or after,Footnote 32 and that Hincmar was, if not the sole author, at least a considerable influence on the work. Since the text itself says that it is the work of ‘Galliarum et Germaniarum episcopi’, the most likely occasion for its production is the Council of Ponthion in 876, the one occasion when bishops from both parts of Francia are known to have met.Footnote 33
De coercendo took the hard-line view that disallowed the subsequent marriage of a raptor and the abducted girl. Hincmar's argument against raptus started from a text of St Paul's (1 Corinthians iii.16): ‘Do you not know that you are a temple of God and the Holy Spirit dwells in you? But if anyone should violate the temple of God, God will destroy him. For the temple of God, which you are, is holy.’Footnote 34 He then urged the (unnamed) ruler he addresses to drive out:
the very impudent audacity of certain people who, … without any reverence of divine or human modesty, do not fear … to violate the temple of God, which is the sanctity of the faithful … since in several parts of this realm, because of their public infestation, the deplorable desolation of widows is not allowed to have legitimate freedom, nor are daughters in the age of girlhood and living in the homes of parents allowed to be honoured with matronly marriage in any way, according to divine and human laws and the authority and wishes of the same parents: and even the appointed devotion to God of nuns themselves is dissolved and profaned, contrary to the profession of sanctity and reverence of divine consecration.Footnote 35
Hincmar associates raptus with sacrilege, but, perhaps deliberately, is vague about the details. At one level the ‘temple of God’ is women's bodies; the ‘profanation’ of nuns is implicitly extended to all raptus:
Thus that old enemy of human kind formerly polluted the gold and silver vessels of the house of God through Belshazzar the impious and sacrilegious king [Daniel v]: now through the profane insolence and impiety of these men, he does not cease to stain things much more precious and dear to God.Footnote 36
Yet St Paul's verse implies that any ‘bodily’ sin could be seen as sacrilege,Footnote 37 while conversely, consensual raptus need not involve ‘violation’ in the sense of sexual assault. Hincmar therefore broadens the sense of the ‘temple of God’ to the visible Church, linking together as offenders, ‘raptores of widows and girls and nuns, despisers of priests, violators of the temple of God’.Footnote 38
Hincmar then argues that since marriage is a matter of natural and divine law, raptus is an offence against both. He quotes the ‘public law of the Romans’;Footnote 39 from the details of the punishments, Constantine's law is meant.Footnote 40 Hincmar adds that this law's punishment of a girl who does not cry out when attacked ‘miraculously agrees with divine law, where a betrothed girl, if she should be attacked by someone in a city, is ordered to be stoned, since she did not call out’.Footnote 41 This supposed parallel to Mosaic law (Deuteronomy xxii.23–4) obscures two key points: that Constantine's law applied to abduction, not rape, and that it applied to all girls, not just those already betrothed. Hincmar adds several passages to demonstrate that divine law regarded a betrothed girl as already married, implying that her raptus should be equated with the more serious sins of adultery or bigamy.Footnote 42
Hincmar then returns to the theme of sacrilege: a valid marriage cannot be contracted from raptus, since it is sacrilegious:
Those who choose marital joining neither by order of divine law, nor by authority of parental will nor by piety of clerical holiness, and moreover have deserved public excommunication by the authority of the canons instead of priestly blessing, by what impudence do they want sacrilege seen as marriage and brigandry as marriage and violence as piety? … Let it by no means be said about this kind of, not legitimate marriage at all, but adulterous cohabitation [contubernium], what the Lord and the Gospel said: What therefore God has joined let man not separate [Matthew xix.6], but rather, What man has impiously and improperly joined, God will disunite by his just ruling.Footnote 43
Here, Hincmar considers raptus within the context of the ninth-century canon law debate on what constituted a marriage and whether marriage was always indissoluble. Hincmar had stated his views on the requirements for a valid marriage in an earlier case: ‘when it happens between free and equals, and by paternal authority a free woman is joined to a man, legitimately dowered and honoured by a public marriage, with sexual intercourse’.Footnote 44 By these criteria, a marriage made after abduction could potentially be valid, if the raptor subsequently obtained parental consent, but De coercendo hides such distinctions.
Hincmar follows this passage with a digression about the wickedness of those who do not respect excommunications, which is then abruptly linked to wife murder:
From these, [presumably the excommunicated] some are found to be so rough and of bestial cruelty, that having killed their previous wives from suspicion of adultery, by no law, no reason, no judgement, but only by their wrath and cruelty, they approach the altar of the Lord and indiscriminately presume to touch the sacred mysteries, while yet overflowing with blood and gore.Footnote 45
He now spends some time arguing that it is against both human and divine law to kill wives, even if adulterous, without a proper judgement. He cites both bible passages and biblical and Roman law (here explicitly stated to be pre-Christian),Footnote 46 yet could not avoid contradictions. Both Mosaic lawFootnote 47 and ninth-century secular law allowed the killing of a wife who was proved to be adulterous, but Carolingian churchmen rejected such actions.Footnote 48 Hincmar warns husbands who try to defend such killings by appeals to secular law: ‘If they are Christians, let them know that on the day of judgement they will be judged neither by Roman, Salic, or Burgundian law, but by divine and apostolic laws.’Footnote 49
After this long condemnation of uxoricide, Hincmar abruptly switches back to raptus:
Such men also break out into such stupidity and blindness, that after they have initially joined themselves to women, against all laws, both human and divine, and against the law of humanity itself, through violence and raptus, or even not fearing to defile them with sacrilegious impiety [by removing them] from the profession and habit of a nun, having besmeared the women with blandishments and placated their parents with ingenious, nay rather shameful flattery, they reckon they have evaded both divine and human justice and want such illicit and iniquitous cohabiting to be seen as legitimate and honest marriage.Footnote 50
Hincmar again justifies this condemnation of raptores who obtain subsequent parental permission both by secular law (Constantine's edict) and ‘divine’ law. His references to canon law seem to be to three separate statutes, none explicitly cited. Hincmar says that canon law demands that those who have married in such circumstances should be excommunicated or anathematised until separation,Footnote 51 or that after separation they should ‘be delivered wholly to workhouses (ergastula) under strictest penance until the day of death’.Footnote 52 This second punishment seems to be based specifically on a canon of the Council of Tusey 860 about nuns who married.Footnote 53 Finally, Hincmar cites part of a canon from the Council of Orleans (511), which orders that if a raptor has taken a girl by violence and flees to sanctuary, the girl must be returned to her parents, and the raptor be handed over to the parents in slavery, unless he redeems himself from this.Footnote 54 (Hincmar ignores the rest of the canon, which says that a girl who consents to her raptus before or subsequently is not punished).Footnote 55
Hincmar then moves to two biblical narratives: David's marriage to Bathsheba (2 Samuel xi) and the mass abduction-marriages of the Benjaminites (Judges xxi). Hincmar uses David's punishment by God as a warning for ‘someone so insane that he should therefore think that profane and violent cohabitation can be made a legitimate marriage’.Footnote 56 (David's crime is, of course, not actually raptus but adultery, followed by murder.) The passage, however, poses two problems for Hincmar. One is that the Bible treats David's marriage with Bathsheba as valid, which directly contradicts Hincmar's own statements on marriage after raptus, and the other is David's polygamy. Hincmar explains away the polygamy as being ‘conceded by the Mosaic law for that time’,Footnote 57 but is forced to see the marriage to Bathsheba simply as something miraculous, not to be imitated.Footnote 58
Hincmar starts his discussion of the passage from Judges with a brief retelling of the story. All but 600 Benjaminites were justly killed in battle by the other Israelites for their sins. The other Israelites had also sworn not to give their daughters in marriage to Benjaminites, but were now concerned that the whole tribe might die out. They therefore encouraged the Benjaminites to abduct and marry virgins gathered at Shiloh for a religious festival, thus allowing marriage without the explicit breaking of their vow. Hincmar comments:
In this matter there would now be no divine indignation to be feared, since all would be done for divine love and honour and for the sake of God … therefore with justice preserved everywhere, since neither were those girls abducted from the rule of their parents from any lust or contumacy, but from necessity alone, nor did those who had captured them do anything by their own will or temerity, but by the order and authority of populus and seniores, there remained only the parents' complaint to be assuaged by reasonable compensation.Footnote 59
As in the biblical passage, the parents are told to show mercy.Footnote 60 Hincmar then stresses again the exceptional nature of this abduction: ‘All that, therefore, rationally provided, rationally done, rationally finished, for the sake of public utility, by public authority and prayer, is thus unique and not to be imitated at all, it is to be read as a mystery, done once and never again repeated.’Footnote 61
After these exemplary non-examples, Hincmar then returns to the denunciation of raptors who obtain subsequent parental consent to their marriage. They may have pacified the parents, but they have not pacified the Church of God, unless they do penance.Footnote 62 He follows this with a condemnation of raptores who gain the support of principes for such marriages; instead rulers should protect the Church from such ‘deadly contagions’.Footnote 63 (There seem to be echoes here of Charles the Bald eventually allowing the marriage of Judith to Baldwin). The treatise finishes with further rhetorical flourishes: women who are abducted are ‘prostituted’, the couple are ‘always branded with the mark of infamy’.Footnote 64
The invention of a theology
Why is De coercendo such a clumsy and at times contradictory work? This was perhaps because Hincmar faced unusually severe problems in developing a theological position on raptus. First, there was an inherent tension between attempts to specify what made a legitimate marriage and to keep marriage indissoluble.Footnote 65 There were a number of attempts by ninth-century laypeople to obtain divorces by arguing that their marriage had never been valid.Footnote 66 Carolingian reformers were keenly aware that too strict regulations on contracting marriages might give additional pretexts for divorce.Footnote 67
Second, there was little church tradition on which Hincmar could draw. He quotes no patristic comments specifically on raptus. An appendix includes extracts from the canons on raptus: only two of these refer to betrothed womenFootnote 68 and two to widows or unbetrothed girls,Footnote 69 while eleven deal with consecrated virgins or nuns. Constantine's law did support harsh punishment for raptus; however, Hincmar's discussion of killing adulterous wives shows that he did not necessarily regard secular law as morally authoritative.
There were also problems with more ‘rational’ arguments against raptus. Although Carolingian moralists strongly supported parental authority over children, they could not in principle oppose disobedience by unmarried daughters, since there was a long hagiographic tradition of female saints defying their families to become nuns.Footnote 70 In the case of an elopement to which the parents subsequently agreed, all the elements of a valid marriage were potentially fulfilled. The conversion of an illicit relationship into subsequent marriage was also seen as acceptable in other circumstances: for example, a man was able to turn his concubine into his wife.Footnote 71
Hincmar thus resorted to two rather unsatisfactory tactics. One was conflating all forms of raptus with its most objectionable forms, the abduction or elopement of nuns and violent raptus. The second was using biblical texts, but he could find relevant passages only in the Old Testament. This raised problems such as the continuing validity of Mosaic law,Footnote 72 and its differing categorisation of offences. Hincmar admitted the existence of polygamy, but elsewhere was more concerned to hide discrepancies.Footnote 73
Hincmar's use of biblical narratives is particularly interesting. As part of his attempt to link raptus with other more lurid crimes, he uses the example of David and Bathsheba to prove that a marriage cannot be made through violence. Hincmar's use of the example of the Benjaminites initially seems more problematic. This story goes far more directly against Hincmar's argument, presenting a set of abduction marriages that implicitly were divinely approved. Why did Hincmar introduce a story so potentially damaging to his argument?
Hincmar's discussion seems to be a conscious reaction to other views: theology against someone else. One possibility is that the varying views on raptus seen in conciliar legislation were accompanied by theological debate. However, the passage about the Benjaminites seems an unlikely focus for learned dispute. No exegetical works available to ninth-century theologians that discuss this text can be traced.Footnote 74 What is more, Hincmar twice refers to the possibility of the ‘wicked’ taking this story as an example for their own conduct.Footnote 75 The implication is that Hincmar's opponents (potential or actual) include laymen, along perhaps with clergy dependent on them.Footnote 76
There was no simple distinction between clerical and lay views on marriage and sexual norms in the period. Capitularies, mirrors for laymen and other texts show a number of laymen listening to and endorsing the provisions of reformers on incest and divorce.Footnote 77 However, there are several other traces in Carolingian texts of similar ‘theological’ resistance by laymen to the Church's teachings on sex. Jonas of Orléans, in his moral tract for laymen, De institutione laicali, gives several examples of how married men might argue against his teachings on marriage. Discussing the need for times of abstinence within marriage, Jonas writes:
There are very many leading a married life, who take care to distinguish very modestly between the times of uniting and not uniting with wives; also there are those who not only reject using this manner of discretion, but also are accustomed shamelessly to oppose themselves to those who censure and contradict them. Our wives, they say, are joined to us by law; if we use them at our will, when and how we want, we do not sin. But we are made answerable for a greater crime, if we abstain from the embrace of wives, and we do not beget sons, whom we should have begotten. This objection, I must say, is very often made to me.Footnote 78
More generally, Jonas complains about certain impudices: ‘There is no lack of men wanting to be intent upon their lust, who may say: The reason that the genital members have been created by the highest maker, God, in each sex, is so that they may be mingled equally: how therefore do we sin if we practice intercourse at will?’Footnote 79 The Council of Douzy (874), meanwhile, complains about ‘very many, particularly those noble in carnal terms and elevated by temporal honour’ committing incestuous marriages and trying to justify themselves by quoting Gregory the Great's Libellus responsionum, which allowed marriages in the third or fourth degree.Footnote 80
Should these claims by clerical authors that laymen were raising specific moral objections to the Church's rules on marriage and sexual behaviour be seen just as a rhetorical strategy, with no basis in reality? This seems unlikely, since such depiction of alternative arguments is rarely seen when moralists discuss other aspects of lay life.Footnote 81 Instead, these comments should be considered against the background of Carolingian religious reforms, which consciously aimed to affect lay as well as clerical behaviour. Noble laymen were encouraged by Carolingian moralists to read the Bible (or have it read to them).Footnote 82 Such activity, they were told, should not simply be left to clerics.Footnote 83 Some laymen clearly took such advice seriously: one of Alcuin's letters discusses a question raised by a layman about two contradictory gospel passages.Footnote 84 Other laypeople are known to have owned Bibles and commentaries or to have borrowed theological works from ecclesiastical libraries.Footnote 85
Against this background, the lay elite probably did develop their own theological ideas, drawing directly on biblical stories. The most famous example of such a ‘lay theologian’ is Dhuoda, a ninth-century noblewoman who wrote a moral tract for her teenage son William.Footnote 86 Although Dhuoda's originality has sometimes been over-stated,Footnote 87 one small example shows her own distinctive view of biblical figures. She praises King David's captains Joab and Abner as examples of loyalty.Footnote 88 Apart from Joab's loyalty he was otherwise a somewhat peculiar moral exemplar, carrying out several murders, the killing of the defenceless Absalom and the mass destruction of cities.Footnote 89 There is no obvious source for Dhuoda's praise of Joab, who is rarely mentioned by earlier Christian writers, except in commentaries on the Books of Kings.Footnote 90 Instead, her views presumably came directly from her study of the Bible.
Dhuoda's personal response to Scripture is unusually well-documented, but other laypeople may also have developed their own biblical interpretations.Footnote 91 Hincmar's concern to interpret the Benjaminite story ‘correctly’ may thus reflect a serious belief that it could be or already had been used to justify raptus. In Alcuin's letter of 798 on the two swords he rejected the idea of ‘a certain wise man’ who thought that learning the Gospel was for clerics, not laymen; the time was now right for laymen to do so.Footnote 92 The comments of Jonas and Hincmar a few decades later, however, suggest that the consequences of lay interest in the Bible could be unexpected.
Raptus was a social practice that offered substantial benefits to a few fortunate lay noblemen, such as Baldwin.Footnote 93 Its prohibition therefore needed to be repeatedly reinforced. De coercendo shows Hincmar attempting to reinforce such prohibitions by providing a new theological response to raptus, placing it within a framework of moral absolutes about marriage as a divine institution. Hincmar's thinking, however, was hampered by the absence of a patristic tradition on the topic and the inconsistencies in the Carolingian theology of marriage and divorce. His recourse to Scripture brought equal problems: with at least some of the laity newly inspired to bible study, it was hard to ensure that texts were always interpreted as the church hierarchy intended. Creating a theology of abduction was an unprecedented and difficult task in the ninth century; Hincmar's relative lack of success in De coercendo is perhaps not surprising.