Marriage, or Something Like it
Allyson M. Poska, in her article “When Love Goes Wrong: Getting out of Marriage in Seventeenth Century Spain,” challenged some preconceived notions of relationships, divorce, and pre-marital sex early Spain. The Catholic Church’s official position on marriage and divorce was fixed during the reformation at the Council of Trent. Through a decree entitled the Tametsi , the Church established a uniform set of rituals meant to be followed across the globe. Before this decree, it had been the practice in Europe that all a couple needed was a “consensual marriage promise and sexual intercourse,” to be legitimately married. Now, however, the Church declared a couple must announce publicly on three separate occasions their intentions to marry at least two weeks prior to the actual wedding. Then the marriage must take place in the presence of a priest, much like the ceremonies we experience today. Divorce was not an option according to Catholic Doctrine, and chastity especially among women was to be closely guarded. The position the Catholic Church took on marriage was not new, and there had been many similar decrees in the past, even among smaller parishes, but it turns out enforcing these decrees was a whole other matter entirely.
Poska focuses her article on a small diocese in northwestern Spain called Ourense. This was a village far from the governing hand of Rome and the secular powers of Spain. After the reconquest of Spain, most cities were left to govern themselves much as they had before, with some amount of autonomy. Ourense was no exception and took the decrees sent from Rome with a grain of salt. Tradition after all, is not easily dislodged, especially when it allowed women and men the freedom of choice and the laxity of divorce should one’s partner prove to be undesirable. Though the Tametsi would eventually take hold, it would be some time before communities across the board paid them heed. There were attempts to regulate and enforce the doctrine through means of the Inquisition and “regular Parish visitations,” but with the people and even some of the priests themselves holding onto tradition the task was not easy.
I think the common belief among historians was that there was a strict moral standard women of early Spain were expected to adhere to, and this might have been the case for the upper class, but the majority of people lived a much freer lifestyle. Sexual activity among couples merely promised to each other was readily accepted and such a promise, whether made in front of a priest or not would hold up in court. That is not to say that the people blatantly ignored the Church’s decrees but that they allowed room for human error within relationships. It was often the case that a couple would make a promise to each other, live together, and have children and then one person decided they, in fact, did not want to marry. In such a case the woman usually went before a judge or priest where the father of any children would pay money for their care and was then absolved of any ties to the woman and vice versa. After the separation was taken care of both partners were free to marry another.
Though technically divorce once officially married was not possible, it was often found that couples who had married were living separately with no condemnation from the community. In order to better enforce the Catholic Church’s stance on marriage Episcopal visitors were sent to the towns and investigated couples said to be married but living separately. The married couples would then be forced to return to each other and often faced fines. If someone were to disobey such as order they would possible face denunciation before the inquisition.
Poska states it is difficult to know exactly how frequently these sorts of situations occurred, but it was clearly generally accepted enough to question the previous assumptions made about relationships in seventeenth century Spain.
