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Fruitful in singleness
Fruitful in singleness Joyce E. Salisbury
This paper explores the concept of drginity and the way of life of virgins in the early middle ages in Spain. It discusses the respect aid awe given virgins from the pre-Christian era and argues that such veneration wasfirml3 based in rural traditions associating personal abstinence with public prosperil. For villagers in Iberia's northern hills, virgins werefertility symbols, and this association persisted from the pre-Christian period through the years of Roman occupation and into the gisigothic Christian centuries. WIdle villagors venerated virgins for helping to bring ftrtili~ to the vicini~, women had their private motives for renouncing family lift. This paper discusses some of the reasons women too)' have had for remaining virgins and the several waye of life chosen b; such women. This anal.~sisconcludeswith a considerationof the relationship between the Church hierarchy and dedicated virgins. The Church viewed independent, respected women as a threat to ort~do~ and obedience. Throughoat the sixth centu~, Visigothie eodesiastical writings and legislation were largely designed to transform ind~ndont virgins into nuns, who were bound by vows of obedi.meeas well
as chasti~.
The Christian tradition has consistently supported virginity both as a blessed state ~nd as a way of life. In fact, we have become so accustomed to associating virginity with Christian morality that we lose sight of the fact that virgins inspired awe long before Christ was born, and in regions untouched by Christianity. Marina Warner has traced the classical antecedents for respect for virgins and concluded that: "There was one particular attitude towards virginity that the Christian religion did inherit from the classical world: that virginity was powerful magic and conferred strength and ritual purity" (Warner 1976:48). While it is true that the classical world shared this view of virginity with Christianity, an examination of myths from outside the Greeo-Roman heritage indicates that awe of virgins came from a source older than the classical world and may indeed have derived from the world-view t,f traditional villagers. This paper explores the ideal of virginity and the way of life of virgins in Galicia, the northwest province of late Roman and Visigothic Spain. Such a regional study only begins to explore the complexities of dedicated virginity in the early middle ages. Galicia is a region of hills, excessive rainfall and infertile z.~ils. Villagers from the time of the earliest Celtic settlements in 600 s.c. through the Visigothic era were faced with the ever-present possibility of famine. Fructuosus of Braga in the seventh century rightly noted that the Gallegan province ' . . . requires more work on the soil than any other land" (Barlow 1969:186). Not surpritingly, rituals designed to persuade this infertile land to yield a sufficient crop were central to Gallegan rural religion. In Galicia's villages, most fertility rituals
Joumsl d Me4~.valHhtor/8(I~) 97-106. NoNh.HoHandPublbhiq Company 0504-4181/82/0000-0/~/S02.75@ 1962 North-Holland
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3nvolved sacrificing procreation in one place to guarantee it elsewhere. I For example, traditionally it had been forbidden to plough one of Galicia's sacred mountains (Murguia 1865:538), a renunciation that represented an effort to increase the fertility of the region's other hills. It is within this context of sacrificial fertility that Gallegans' respect for virginity must be understood. Virginity was regarded as the highest sacrifice, essentially a human sacrifice that could perhaps purchase fertility (of crops as well as procreative fertility) for the whole community. From the pre~Christian centuries in Gallegan folklore, virgins were linked with water images and the moon to form a triad ofinterwoven talismans that were to guarantee fertility. Early Celtic creation myths clearly state the creative role of virgins working through their traditional medium: "A water virgin was fertilized by a wind - the sea then became the mother of all life" (Markale 1975:44). This Celtic myth survives in Great Britain, but a later myth from Galicia, which was incorporated into a local Christian heresy in about the fourth century, has enough symbolic similarity, in spite of a superficial Christian overlay, to indicate that Iberian Celts probably shared much the same mythological heritage: "When God wants to give men rain, he shows a Light-Virgin to the Prince of Darkness, who desires her so that he sweats with excitement making rain, and when deprived of her, causes thunder by his groaning (Orosius, CSEL 13). The Light Virgin was probably an allegorized version of the moon which had traditionally been a female fertility figure (Jones 1917:!6). In both texts, virgins do
not directly generate fertility, but in a passive sense control water which in turn makes the land fertile. This, then, is the relationship between the three main fertility symbols in Galicia: virgins represent the moon (in fact, the images are so intertwined, it is impossible to determine which symbolizes which). The moon controls water; water brings fertility. Beyond establishing the relationship between virgins, the moon and water, this wonderfully telling myth clearly a~tributes fertility to frustrated (or sublimated) sexuality. This basic relationship versisted throughout the seventh century, albeit in a Christian form. There is no way to be certain that prior to the Roman Conquest some women lived as dedicated virgins in Galicia, but the richness of references to virgins in Celtic mythology and the general respect given to women who remained virgins makes it probable that at times a village woman would remain virgin either by choice or circumstances. With the coming of the Romans, however, what once may have been an ir~formal dedication to virginity became formalized. A woman might renounce family life to remain independent, virgo, whether she was vi~go int~ta or not. Roman women may have had any n u m ~ r of reasons for their dedication to virginity, but it is not unlikely that Gallegan pagans revered such women as traditional fertility symbols. The Roman ideal of virginity may indeed not have been so far from the Gallegan association between virginity and its opposite, fertility. In examining the epitome of Roman virginity, the Vestal Virgins, Pomeroy wrote: "Most paradoxical, perhaps, was their involvement in agriculture and fertility rites. It appears that
virginity is not synonymous with sterility, and not incompatible with fertility. Purity and intactness can be viewed as stored-up fertility..." (Pomeroy 1975:211). The relationship between virginity and fertility continued throughout the early Christian centuries, as did popular respect for dedicated virgins. An indirect but clear expression of popular sentiment is provided by the cults of saints in the period. While the surviving hagiographic records were obviously written by official churchmen, the:: often reflect popular sentiment since they were usually written to give official sanction to an established cult. Therefore, hagiographers eulogized a saint for the traits for which she was already being worshipped. The earliest Spanish saints were those martyred during the persecutions of the later Empire, especially those of Diocletian. Some of the earliest hagiographic materials are the hymns of Prudentius written in the late fourth century. As Marique, in Leaders of Iberian Cttristiani~, accurately observed: "The martyr poems of Prudentius crystallize the legend at the sgage which had been reached at that time in narrating the life and passion of a saint" (1962:101 ). Prudentius' poem about the virgin martyr, Eulalia, articulated and Christianized the ancient relationship between virginity and fertility (Eagan 1962:129): Mighty and populousthe city she blessed Drenching the soll with her blood there outpoured, Hallowingi~ with her virginal tomb. Through the medium of poetry, Prudentius made more explicit what was probably the underlying symbol that had pervaded the earlier virgin/water images: the magic, fertile water passively controlled by virgins was blood. Menstrual blood which s p o n .
taneously flowed monthly represented a mysterious sacrifice that bought fertility for the community: Prudentius' verse, at one level, is about martyr's blood and a city hallowed by the martyr's burial. At a deeper level, it is about a city made prosperous (fertile) by the blood from a virgin's womb. There is a repeated mythological and literary association between birth and death, between womb and tomb. As Jean Markale noted, "The jar, the pitcher, the hole in the ground, the cave, the underwater g r o t t o . . , all symbols of woman, are also symbols of death" (1975: 59). The images expressing Eulalia's martyrdom are well within this tradition. By her virgin, sacrificial death, Eulalia joined and exceeded the many virgins of Celtic mythology who guarded the fountains of their own flowing sexuality (Markale 1975:45), so that the community might remain fertile and prosperous. It is not surprising that peasants addressed the same petitions to Eulalia as they had previously offered to Ataecina, a fertility goddess (McKenna 1938:26). It would not have required much official pressure to replace the pagan Ataecina with the Christian Eulalia, because, in function, Eulalia was Ataecina. There were many virgin saints during the Iberian persecutions, so many, in fact, that one wonders whether only virgins held firm in their faith. More likely, in the telling, virginity was attributed to all female martyrs, thus reinforcing the sacrificial virgin image so important in this region) Eulalia was the hagiographical and symbolical archetype for these many virgin saints, so she will suffice here to demonstrate the pervasive hagiographic association be-
ratller a joyous travelogue. Etheria seems to tween fertility and abstinence. It is easy to have been a virgo in the classical Roman understand how peasants who were so consense, an independent woman belonging to cerned with scarce crops had a great deal of no man. The tone of Etheria's letter suggests respect for both virgin saints and local that by rejecting traditional social relationvirgins. ships, a virgin need not forego warm comObviously, women who married also pospanionship. Etheria's poetic references to sessed the capacity to be fertile. By bearing her sisters as lumen meum and dominae animae children, these women brought fertility to meae (McClure 1919:5, 6, 23 and 27) hint the private sphere of the family, insuring its at strong ties of affection that united women survival. Virgins, on the other hand, by in their vows of chastity. These informal ties renouncing private regeneration brought of affection and commitment were perhaps prosperity to the commm~al or public sphere often stronger than monastic rules which of the village as a whole. would later bind nuns to their convents. Many of the women who dedicated their Personal autonomy was a motive for holy lives to abstinence between the fourth and women, but the phenomenon of dedicated seventh centuries were city women. While chastity was complex. In a Christian tradiat times they moved to remote areas near a village to live out their chosen way of life, tion, virginity is frequently a path to mystic knowledge of God. 4 A v~rgin was considered those who chose chastity did so not explicitly to ensure a good harvest, but for more 'whole' (intacta), existing in a state closer to personal reasons. A virgin gained considerthe oneness (that is, wholeness) of God, thus more receptive to ~t mystic union. 5 Two able independence, the companion~;hip of a community of women or a perception of a letters from fourth-century Gallegan virgins closeness to God. These private explanations, survive, which typify this mystic motivation however, do not detract from the public for chastity. Instead of choosing merely to be result. Virgins residing in a community their own women, these two anonymous brought prosperity. We are severely handiwomen considered themselves brides of capped in exploring the experience of dediChrist (Morin 1928:293), and as Jerome (whose writings were well circulated in cated virginity by the scarcity of writing by Iberia) described the Virgin Mary, rewomen during this early period. The few, mained "simple, pure, unsullied, drawing but eloquent, surviving texts will have to no germ of life from without, but like God speak for all the Gallegan virgins. The best-known fourth-century Spanish himself, fruitful in singleness" (Jerome 22: 405--06). Jerome's description is remarkably virgin was Etheria, who, left Galicia to make a pilgrimage through the holy lands. She applicable to the experience of chastity as described by the two Iberian virgins, parwas gone for over three years (McClure ticularly his association of fertility (fruit1919:30), and during her trip, she wrote a long letter to her 'reverend sisters' in Galicia fulness) with chastity, and his sexual imagery ("drawing no germ of life from without"). with whom she had presumably lived in a loose-knit community, l~theria's letter is not The first of the letters seems to have been an introspective eulogy of celibacy, but written by an avowed virgin, probably one
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not riving in a formal community. She wrote to her dear friend and spiritual mentor in affectionate language reminiscent of Etheria (Morin 1928:294). She thanked her friend for a letter and attempted to express her own mystical knowledge, the "prophetic testimony that is in the mystery of the bride of Christ" (Morin 1928:293), by symbolic images. The image she chose most frequently was that of fertility. In the short, three-page letter, she ust.d some form of the wordsfructusandfecundilas eight times as well as references to water, pregnancy and the womb, which were clearly further associations with fertility. The complex images can be distilled into one central thought: by foregoing carnal knowledge, a virgin receives God's spirit into her uterus from which she, in turn, giv,'~ birth to God's word to benefit others, in a spiritual emulation of Mary's virgin birth (Morin 1928:293--4). The virgin author of the letter believed that the benefit to others by 'spiritual' rather than 'carnal' knowledge was didactic. Everyone could benefit from knowledge gained by a virgin. The author praised her friend's teachings in her obscure, sexually symbolic way: " . . . fruit pours forth from your womb; that you may carry your child (that is, knowledge) about and show it in Egypt (the world), that is, to us survivors of a darkened generation, you may show the fruit of your doctrine" (Morin 1928:294). These basic themes appear in the second letter, written also by a fourth-century religious woman to an acquaintance. The writer was urging her friend to withdraw temporarily from the world to a monastery cell,* to imlate herself, fast and pray for three weeks between Christmas and
Epiphany (Morin 1928:300). This fast and isolation were in imitation of the Virgin Mary's post-pattern recuperation. It was to be a restorative period as well as a commemorative time, when women who could not dedicate their lives by being brides of Christ could benefit from a period of reflective chastity. The writer urged her friend to be like Mary, " c a l m . . . in the tenth month with. the box of your body in f l o o d . . , you will not go out in p u b l i c . . . " (Morin 1928:298). By this withdrawal, prayer and fasting, she would heal her body and perhaps receive a revelation (Morin 1928: 301). In spite of the intensely personal mysticism that pervades this second letter, the writer nevertheless implied a benefil larger than the personal one: " . . . j u s t as within the hidden womb of the uterus, just as within the secret cell of the monastery, something is formed in us, which shall bring us to health and in the tenth month, new works will appear from our fruit, which the world will wonder at" (Morin 1928:297). This passage summarizes the views expressed in both these difficult but fasci.nating letters, and if they are indeed representative, they are remarkably consistent with traditional associations between personal sexual abstinence and community prosperity. Even though we have few documents which express the motivations and feelings of these women, the amount of legislation at the Council of Elvira (about 300) directed to dedicated virgins suggests that there were probably many women who had chosen this way of life3 It is difficult to describe precisely how these women lived, since there was no prescribed mode of life for virgins dedicated to God before the establishment
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of convents. Probably the most co~nmon way of life was for a consecrated woman to remain with her family. It was difficult to re.~ist family pressures to marry, and legends of early Christian heroines reflect this struggle that must have been repeated in many households when a woman announced that she refused to marry and chose to remain at home supported by her father. One, Castissime, had to run away disguised as a man to avoid her father's insistence, s Another, Benedicta, was betrothed to one of the king's guard and ran away to avoid marriage (Nock 1946:116). Helle, in language strongly reminiscent of pagan fertility symbols, was described as being "as beautiful as the moon TM and remained at home after winning her right to remain virgin in a long dialogue with her mother. Helie's mother marshalled examples from saints and scriptures to support her position: "Either receive marriage; or you shall be damned. T M In spite of Helie's protestations that truth was not discovered by disputation, she responded with an impressive number of biblical examples to support her somewhat extreme anti-nuptial position: "Profess virginity; or be damned. ' ' u Her parents despaired of convincing her, and presented her to a judge to see if she might be seized as a wife. The third book of Helie's Vita is her dialogue with the judge. She persevered with long, eloquent speeches, exempting herself from the judge's scriptural admonition that "it is better to marry than burn," by saying: "it is true that scripture says it is better to marry than burn; but not for everyone, that is, not for holy virgins. T M To demonstrate that such scriptural demands did not apply equally to everyoJ,e,
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Helle pointed to an irLequality in applying secular laws: "Men ate not bound by laws promulgated for women. ''sa Her arguments won her the right to iaave as her husband " . . . one who presides not on earth, but in heaven."14 Even ifa girl bowed to social pressure and married, she could stii~l live as virgo intorta. St Jerome heard of this Spanish practice and described it with :l good deal of scepticism: "They live in th~ same house, enclose themselves in the same room and sometimes sleep in the same bed . . . . [Nevertheless] the women do not deny, but affirm that their virginity was intact" (Perez de Urbel 1933: 91-2). Even if a marriage were consummated, a woman couId still decide to live chastely and dedicate herself to God, although she no longer was technically virgo intaaa. As implied by the second of the two letters of anonymous Spanish virgins, living chastely seems to have been accorded only slightly less status than perpetual virginity, and the Christian legends have numerous examples of men and women taking vows after years of marriage, is Most of these consecrated women lived ordinary lives, tending their family homes, walking through town or shopping, although members of the community knew of their special dedication. The women may have worn a special article of clothing distinguishing themselves, perhaps a veil, since a later law of the sixth century forbade " . . . widows from wearing religious clothing on top of their regular lay clothes to pretend that they have taken v o w s . . . " (Scott 1910:109-10). Living within the family, however, was by no means the only possibility for early Spanish virgins. Sometimes holy women chose t~ live with holy men. Priests, especi-
ally in the countryside, frequently had women living with them. Often these women took vows of celibacy and were called agapetas or subintroductas (Perez de Urbel 1933:92). While the Church legislated ag:~i~,~t this practice (ConciliaHispaniae, MPL 84:330), through the fifth century it must have been common, and undoubtedly it was popular with villagers who would thus have their parish priest and holy virgin together, accessible to benefit the community. There were also hermits living in this region, and they seem to have been willing to provide a home for consecrated women. Braulio, the seventh-century hagiographer of St Emilian, praised, perhaps excessively, Emilian's ability to withstand temptation of the flesh: "He lived with holy virgins ~.nd, from his eightieth year o n . . . he calmly a c c e p t e d . . , all :',e services of the maidservant of G o d . . . y e t . . , he never experienced a trace of dishonorable passion . . . . " (Barlow 1969:133--4). Apparently, serving holy men was considered a worthy occupation for holy women, but it is difficult to imagine an independent pilgrim such as Etheria living her life as a lady-in-waiting. For such women, it was possible to live alone, isolated in rural areas, but this seems to have been rare, or temporary. For example, Benedicta, who fled from her high-born betrothed, lived for a while in a small hut in the forest. Soon, however, "when her reputation was heralded with p l a i s e . . , such an ardent desire inspired other young maidens ofvarious families that from all sides a splendid troop of women gladly came, s o . . . the number of holy w6men in the congregation reached eighty'" (Neck 1946:!!6-18). It was probably to
one of these loose-knit anchorite communities that Etheria belonged. There were no rules for any of the virgins, wherever they lived, and no vows except a commitment to chastity. They traveled when it pleased them, whether as far as the Holy Land or to visit nearby friends as did the anonymous author of letter no. 1 (Morin 1928:295-96). Whatever their way of life, as holy virgins they were extremely important to the community. Since they conferred fertility by their abstinence, they were held in awe and respect by villagers in their vicinity. They also moved frequently, bringing town views to their rural communities, and bringing their observations on rural life to their town friends. These same activities, however, made them a threat to the nascent official Ghurch of the early fifth century which, together with the newly converted Visigothic monarchy, was trying to bring uniformity and orthodoxy to the kingdom. The men of the official Church did not encourage the association of all-important fertility magic with women holding themselves aloof from both ofli,,ial sncial structures and official religiosity. One of the most informative documents about official conceptions of virginity was the sixth-century Rule of St Leander of Seville, written to his sister, Florentina. Leander demonstrates the struggle to transform highly respected, independent virgins into obedient, orthodox, isolated nuns. By the late sixth century, most of Iberia's virgins were living formally in convents, but some of Leander's images recall an older view of virginity which was never completely eradicated. In his preface, which was a long praise of virginity, Leander recognized the sacrificial quality of a dedicated virgin,
" . . . the oblations acceptable to God and covsecrated on the altars of heaven" (McKenna 1935:25), yet he avoided making the traditional association of sacrifice with the purchase of fertility. The official Church consistently attempted to ignore the magic potential of virginity, but as Leander demonstrates, it was never completely able to do so, managing to go only halfway, accepting a virgin as a sacrifice, but leaving it unclear for what she was sacrificing. Leander also continued the Cd practice of associating virginity with health. To phrase it obversely and more theoretically, the penalty of carnal knowledge w.ts death. Reti.~rring to the dangers .of childbirth, Leander wrote: " . . . the mother perishes with the child and all the pomp of marriage ends in death" (McKenna 1935:25). While Leander strongly advocated virginity as a way oflife that promised rewards in heaven, that is "to be numbered among the 144,000 w h o . . . [sing] the song that virg'ns alone may s i n g . . . " (Schulenburg 1978:121), he could not completely dismiss marriage for fear of falling into the dualist heresy that had plagued Spain during the early centuries. His argument in favour of marriage, drawn from Jerome, recalls a time when virginity was praised as an end in itself, not solely a path to salvation : "From a marriage a virgin is born" (McKenna 1935: 25;Jerome 22:403). But virginity had to be incorporated into, and controlled by, the church hierarchy, and Leander clearly recognized this necessity. The obvious first step in regulating and controlling dedicated virgins was co eliminate the diversity of their styles of life. A woman who dedicated her sexualit~ to God, was no longer to live at home , o r with
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others who remained within the world. Leander accurately identified such informal living arrangements as belonging to a preChristian era: "Virgins should flee a private life; not only because they might imitate others they see in the cities, but because it is a pagan custom merely tolerated by the Church for those converts who wished to continue to live alone [or at least outside a" community]" (Leander 72:890). Leander was not alone in urging informally dedicated virgins to become nuns. Early legislation on this subject was abundant. Women were ordered to take formal and legally binding vows of virginity (Concilia Hispaniae, MPL 84:303). Increasingly, Church law condemned the breaking of vows rather than the fall from chastity itself (ConciliaHispaniae, MPL 84:397 and 443). While there were probably always women who chose a private life of chastity, by and large from the seventh century dedicated virgins lived in communities bound by legal vows and under episcopal discipline. The Church wanted to modify not only the virgins' way of life, but also the ideal of virginity itself. Once it may have been enough for a woman to preserve her virginity in order to be held in awe for her sacrifice. St Jerome, however, was representative of the early Church fathers in l-,elieving that " . . . the virgin must keep herself [free] not only from every physical con•~amination but also from every other kind of sin." In fact, corporal purity is of little value i~"not accompanied by purity oflife (Schulenburg 1978:129). Virginity was to be a means t,J an end, to smooth the way to salvation, 1atber than an end in itself. To what degree Visigothic nuns accepted this expanded view of virginity of the spirit
as well as of the flesh is difficult to say. For example, in an old Visigothic Codex regularum 16 of a convent, there is a section containing seven saints' lives. 17 All seven saints were women, and curiously, in an age of martyrs, none had been martyred. The unifying theme of these lives was that of each woman successfully preserving her virginity (or at least her chastity) in the face of demanding husbands (Melania), irate fathers (Castissime), persuasive mothers (Helie) or society in general (Maria Egyptiae). In these stories it was considered virtuous for these women to lie, steal, and disobey the authority of family or spiritual leaders in order to preserve their chastity. These activities hardly fulfill Jerome's mandate that virgins should keep themselves free from all sins, not only those of the flesh. Within the convents, however, the stories were copied and preserved as testimony to the high value placed on virginity itself. Furthermore, these stories were read for instructional purposes, thus perpetuating behind convent walls many of the values that had existed in this region since the time virgins had lived within the world. Galicia was a region whose people always had a high regard for virginity as a spiritual, if somewhat mysterious state, and as a sacrifice that brought fertility to the ungenerous land. By the seventh century, the official Church had largely succeeded in regulating and institutionalizing GaUegan ritual virginity, As nuns, women were subject to the discipline of the local bishop. They were bound by vows carrying the force of law and by laws directly ordering their lives (Scott 1910:107). Within the convents, however, the feelings and motives that had moved fourth-century women to
dedicate their sexuality to God were never completely transformed. Strong abbesses who ruled their own houses and sometimes presided over a double monastery of men and women (Morris 1973:8) would have surely been familiar to the independent pilgrim, Etheria, who befriended just such an abbess in the Holy Land (McClure 1919: 210). Marriage to Christ continued to provide an opportunity for independe,tt women to remain that way. Also, from the monastic writings faithfully copied, one can still feel the mystic strain. Virginity was a blessed, magic state both sufficient in itself and yet a means to divine, instead of carnal, union. The convents themselves became a collective symbol of sacrificial virginity. As such, they continued to be revered by neighbouring villagers, yet they were more controllable than independent virgins, and therefore less of a threat to the Church. While the Iberian church did not completely change traditional views of virgins as powerful in their own right, a compromise was struck between popular respect fiJr virgins as fertility symbols and more orthodox views of virginity as a path to salvation. It was in this compromise that the veneration of virgins was carried to cities and into the later centuries of the middle ages. .Notes i An analysisof a related characteristicof peasant societies is proposed by George M. Foster: " . . . peasantsview their social,economic,and natural universes - their total environment - as one in which all of tile desired things in life.., exist in finite quantity and are always in short supply, as far as the peasant is concerned" (Potter 1967:304). 2 MikhailBakhtin noted the relationshipbetween blood and fertility in popular legend: "[Rabelais] relates that after Abel's killing the earth absorbed his
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blood and became fertile" ( 1965:279). For a discussion of peasants' lear and respect of blood, including menstrual blt~bcl, see Potter (1967:309). a Werner .Stark noted the importance of symbolic references in the study of religions: "Not literal truth, but symbolic truth is what matters in rdigion. Differendy expressed, a legend, though incredible on the level ofliteralness, may well convey in an allegorical fashion a very bard and fast fact" (1970:127). * John Bugge has an excellent analysis of noetic communion with God which is more accessible through the virgin state, and concludes that : "A chief trait of the virgin saint or virgin martyr is an intimate knowledge of the mind of God" (1975:46). Virginity is an ontological kinship with the divine existence which gives it the ability to comprehend Perfection (Bugge 1975 : 16). s While she uses the word monasterius twice in this letter, Jt seems clear that she is referring to an isolated hermit's retreat ratber than a coenobitic communi:y (Morin 1928:298 and 301). No puede ponerse en duda que las jovenes consagradas a Cristo baja el velo de la pureza se contaban en gran numero, ya que el ano 3 0 0 . . . (Vizmanos L949:604). On a European scale, Jane Schulenburg also recognized this trend, noting that for early candidates for canonization " . . . the primary profession was that of consecrated virginity outside of an organized monastic community" (1978:120). s Madrid, Escorial MS. a I1 9, f. 115v. m Escorial MS. a 11 9, f. 73v. no Escorial MS. a 11 9, f. 86v: Aut suscipies nuptias; aut damnabis. n Escorial MS. a I 1 9, f. 86v : Virginitas profitend~ cst; aut damnanda. n Escoriai MS. a 1I 9, f. 90v: Quod vero scriptum dlcis nubere melius esse quam uri; non omnibus, id est non sacris virginibus . . . . ta Escorial MS. a 11 9, f. 90v: Quomodo lex mulieribus promulgata, masculos non constringat? ~4 Escorial MS. a I1 9, f. 90v: Est mici sponsus, qui non in terra presidet; sed in cclo. nb Perez de Urbel described several fourth-century husband and wife ascetic partners, for example, Damaso and Laurencia, Paulino and Teresa, and Lucino and Tcodora (1933:89-90). is Visigothic monasteries and convents were not governed solely by a particular Rule, in spite of the fact that several Iberian monastic Rules were written. Instead, each bouse had a Codexregula~m, a collection of r:des, saints' lives and other gritings considered useful to monks and nuns. Members of the house would try generally to live in a way consistent with the writings in their Codex.
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17 Escorial MS. a I1 9: Melania, Castissime, Helle, Egeria, Pelagia, Maria Aegyptie, and Constantinae.
Literature Bakhtin, M. 1965. Rabelais and his world. Cambridge, Mass. Barlnw, C. W. (ed.) 1969. The fathers of the Church: Iberian fatber~, 2. Washington. Bugge, J. 1975. Virginitas: an essay in tile history of a medieval ideal. Den Haag. Concilia Hispaniae. MPL 84:301 ft. Eagan, M. C. (ed.) 1962. The l~cms of Prudentius. Washington. Jerome. Epistola XXII, ad Eustachium. MPL 22: 405-06. Jones, H. L. (ed.) 1917. The geography of Strabo, 2. New York. Leander. Regula sire iiber de institutions verginum ct eontemptu mundi. MPL 72:873-94. Marique, J. M. F. (ed.) 1962. Leaders of Iberian christianity 50-650 A.D. Massaclmsetts. Markale, J. 1975. Women of tbe Celts. London. McCiure, M. L. and Fehoe, C. L. 1919. The pilgrimage of Etheria. New York. McKenna, S. 19~3. The monastic rules of visigothic Spain. Master~ thesis. Catholic University of America, Wash;ngton. McKenna, S. 193"]. Paganism and pagan survivals in Spain up to the fall of the Visigothic kingdom. The Catholic Uniw:rsity of America studies in medieval history, new series, I. Washington. Morin, G. 1928. ~3eux lettres mystiques d'une ascete t . . espagnole. Rewae benednctme 40:298-318. • [ . Morns, J. 1973. ~:he lady was a bishop. New York. Murguia, M. 1865. Historia de Galicia, 1. Lugo. Nock, F. C. 0.d.) 1946. Visa sancti Fructunsi. Washington. Orosius. Memoria apostolorum. CSEL 18:150:12-14. Perez de Urbei, J. 1933. Los monjes espanoles en ia edad media, I. Madrid. Pomeroy, S. B. 1975. Goddesses, whores, wive,, and slaves: women in classical antiquity. New Yo.'k. Potter, J. M. and others. 1967. Pe~';ant so:iety. Canada. Stark, W. 1970. The soc.iologyofreligion, 4. New York. Schulenburg, J. T. 1978. Sexism in the celestial gynaeceum from 500 to 1200. Journal of medieva~ history 4:117-33. Scott, S. P. (ed.) 1910. Yhe Visigothlc code (for,lrn jndicum). Boston. Vizmanos, F. P. 1949. Las virglnes crlstianas de la iglesia prlmitiva. Madrid. Warner, M. 1976. Alone of all her sex. New York.
This paper explores the concept of drginity and the way of life of virgins in the early middle ages in Spain. It discusses the respect aid awe given virgins from the pre-Christian era and argues that such veneration wasfirml3 based in rural traditions associating personal abstinence with public prosperil. For villagers in Iberia's northern hills, virgins werefertility symbols, and this association persisted from the pre-Christian period through the years of Roman occupation and into the gisigothic Christian centuries. WIdle villagors venerated virgins for helping to bring ftrtili~ to the vicini~, women had their private motives for renouncing family lift. This paper discusses some of the reasons women too)' have had for remaining virgins and the several waye of life chosen b; such women. This anal.~sisconcludeswith a considerationof the relationship between the Church hierarchy and dedicated virgins. The Church viewed independent, respected women as a threat to ort~do~ and obedience. Throughoat the sixth centu~, Visigothie eodesiastical writings and legislation were largely designed to transform ind~ndont virgins into nuns, who were bound by vows of obedi.meeas well
as chasti~.
The Christian tradition has consistently supported virginity both as a blessed state ~nd as a way of life. In fact, we have become so accustomed to associating virginity with Christian morality that we lose sight of the fact that virgins inspired awe long before Christ was born, and in regions untouched by Christianity. Marina Warner has traced the classical antecedents for respect for virgins and concluded that: "There was one particular attitude towards virginity that the Christian religion did inherit from the classical world: that virginity was powerful magic and conferred strength and ritual purity" (Warner 1976:48). While it is true that the classical world shared this view of virginity with Christianity, an examination of myths from outside the Greeo-Roman heritage indicates that awe of virgins came from a source older than the classical world and may indeed have derived from the world-view t,f traditional villagers. This paper explores the ideal of virginity and the way of life of virgins in Galicia, the northwest province of late Roman and Visigothic Spain. Such a regional study only begins to explore the complexities of dedicated virginity in the early middle ages. Galicia is a region of hills, excessive rainfall and infertile z.~ils. Villagers from the time of the earliest Celtic settlements in 600 s.c. through the Visigothic era were faced with the ever-present possibility of famine. Fructuosus of Braga in the seventh century rightly noted that the Gallegan province ' . . . requires more work on the soil than any other land" (Barlow 1969:186). Not surpritingly, rituals designed to persuade this infertile land to yield a sufficient crop were central to Gallegan rural religion. In Galicia's villages, most fertility rituals
Joumsl d Me4~.valHhtor/8(I~) 97-106. NoNh.HoHandPublbhiq Company 0504-4181/82/0000-0/~/S02.75@ 1962 North-Holland
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3nvolved sacrificing procreation in one place to guarantee it elsewhere. I For example, traditionally it had been forbidden to plough one of Galicia's sacred mountains (Murguia 1865:538), a renunciation that represented an effort to increase the fertility of the region's other hills. It is within this context of sacrificial fertility that Gallegans' respect for virginity must be understood. Virginity was regarded as the highest sacrifice, essentially a human sacrifice that could perhaps purchase fertility (of crops as well as procreative fertility) for the whole community. From the pre~Christian centuries in Gallegan folklore, virgins were linked with water images and the moon to form a triad ofinterwoven talismans that were to guarantee fertility. Early Celtic creation myths clearly state the creative role of virgins working through their traditional medium: "A water virgin was fertilized by a wind - the sea then became the mother of all life" (Markale 1975:44). This Celtic myth survives in Great Britain, but a later myth from Galicia, which was incorporated into a local Christian heresy in about the fourth century, has enough symbolic similarity, in spite of a superficial Christian overlay, to indicate that Iberian Celts probably shared much the same mythological heritage: "When God wants to give men rain, he shows a Light-Virgin to the Prince of Darkness, who desires her so that he sweats with excitement making rain, and when deprived of her, causes thunder by his groaning (Orosius, CSEL 13). The Light Virgin was probably an allegorized version of the moon which had traditionally been a female fertility figure (Jones 1917:!6). In both texts, virgins do
not directly generate fertility, but in a passive sense control water which in turn makes the land fertile. This, then, is the relationship between the three main fertility symbols in Galicia: virgins represent the moon (in fact, the images are so intertwined, it is impossible to determine which symbolizes which). The moon controls water; water brings fertility. Beyond establishing the relationship between virgins, the moon and water, this wonderfully telling myth clearly a~tributes fertility to frustrated (or sublimated) sexuality. This basic relationship versisted throughout the seventh century, albeit in a Christian form. There is no way to be certain that prior to the Roman Conquest some women lived as dedicated virgins in Galicia, but the richness of references to virgins in Celtic mythology and the general respect given to women who remained virgins makes it probable that at times a village woman would remain virgin either by choice or circumstances. With the coming of the Romans, however, what once may have been an ir~formal dedication to virginity became formalized. A woman might renounce family life to remain independent, virgo, whether she was vi~go int~ta or not. Roman women may have had any n u m ~ r of reasons for their dedication to virginity, but it is not unlikely that Gallegan pagans revered such women as traditional fertility symbols. The Roman ideal of virginity may indeed not have been so far from the Gallegan association between virginity and its opposite, fertility. In examining the epitome of Roman virginity, the Vestal Virgins, Pomeroy wrote: "Most paradoxical, perhaps, was their involvement in agriculture and fertility rites. It appears that
virginity is not synonymous with sterility, and not incompatible with fertility. Purity and intactness can be viewed as stored-up fertility..." (Pomeroy 1975:211). The relationship between virginity and fertility continued throughout the early Christian centuries, as did popular respect for dedicated virgins. An indirect but clear expression of popular sentiment is provided by the cults of saints in the period. While the surviving hagiographic records were obviously written by official churchmen, the:: often reflect popular sentiment since they were usually written to give official sanction to an established cult. Therefore, hagiographers eulogized a saint for the traits for which she was already being worshipped. The earliest Spanish saints were those martyred during the persecutions of the later Empire, especially those of Diocletian. Some of the earliest hagiographic materials are the hymns of Prudentius written in the late fourth century. As Marique, in Leaders of Iberian Cttristiani~, accurately observed: "The martyr poems of Prudentius crystallize the legend at the sgage which had been reached at that time in narrating the life and passion of a saint" (1962:101 ). Prudentius' poem about the virgin martyr, Eulalia, articulated and Christianized the ancient relationship between virginity and fertility (Eagan 1962:129): Mighty and populousthe city she blessed Drenching the soll with her blood there outpoured, Hallowingi~ with her virginal tomb. Through the medium of poetry, Prudentius made more explicit what was probably the underlying symbol that had pervaded the earlier virgin/water images: the magic, fertile water passively controlled by virgins was blood. Menstrual blood which s p o n .
taneously flowed monthly represented a mysterious sacrifice that bought fertility for the community: Prudentius' verse, at one level, is about martyr's blood and a city hallowed by the martyr's burial. At a deeper level, it is about a city made prosperous (fertile) by the blood from a virgin's womb. There is a repeated mythological and literary association between birth and death, between womb and tomb. As Jean Markale noted, "The jar, the pitcher, the hole in the ground, the cave, the underwater g r o t t o . . , all symbols of woman, are also symbols of death" (1975: 59). The images expressing Eulalia's martyrdom are well within this tradition. By her virgin, sacrificial death, Eulalia joined and exceeded the many virgins of Celtic mythology who guarded the fountains of their own flowing sexuality (Markale 1975:45), so that the community might remain fertile and prosperous. It is not surprising that peasants addressed the same petitions to Eulalia as they had previously offered to Ataecina, a fertility goddess (McKenna 1938:26). It would not have required much official pressure to replace the pagan Ataecina with the Christian Eulalia, because, in function, Eulalia was Ataecina. There were many virgin saints during the Iberian persecutions, so many, in fact, that one wonders whether only virgins held firm in their faith. More likely, in the telling, virginity was attributed to all female martyrs, thus reinforcing the sacrificial virgin image so important in this region) Eulalia was the hagiographical and symbolical archetype for these many virgin saints, so she will suffice here to demonstrate the pervasive hagiographic association be-
ratller a joyous travelogue. Etheria seems to tween fertility and abstinence. It is easy to have been a virgo in the classical Roman understand how peasants who were so consense, an independent woman belonging to cerned with scarce crops had a great deal of no man. The tone of Etheria's letter suggests respect for both virgin saints and local that by rejecting traditional social relationvirgins. ships, a virgin need not forego warm comObviously, women who married also pospanionship. Etheria's poetic references to sessed the capacity to be fertile. By bearing her sisters as lumen meum and dominae animae children, these women brought fertility to meae (McClure 1919:5, 6, 23 and 27) hint the private sphere of the family, insuring its at strong ties of affection that united women survival. Virgins, on the other hand, by in their vows of chastity. These informal ties renouncing private regeneration brought of affection and commitment were perhaps prosperity to the commm~al or public sphere often stronger than monastic rules which of the village as a whole. would later bind nuns to their convents. Many of the women who dedicated their Personal autonomy was a motive for holy lives to abstinence between the fourth and women, but the phenomenon of dedicated seventh centuries were city women. While chastity was complex. In a Christian tradiat times they moved to remote areas near a village to live out their chosen way of life, tion, virginity is frequently a path to mystic knowledge of God. 4 A v~rgin was considered those who chose chastity did so not explicitly to ensure a good harvest, but for more 'whole' (intacta), existing in a state closer to personal reasons. A virgin gained considerthe oneness (that is, wholeness) of God, thus more receptive to ~t mystic union. 5 Two able independence, the companion~;hip of a community of women or a perception of a letters from fourth-century Gallegan virgins closeness to God. These private explanations, survive, which typify this mystic motivation however, do not detract from the public for chastity. Instead of choosing merely to be result. Virgins residing in a community their own women, these two anonymous brought prosperity. We are severely handiwomen considered themselves brides of capped in exploring the experience of dediChrist (Morin 1928:293), and as Jerome (whose writings were well circulated in cated virginity by the scarcity of writing by Iberia) described the Virgin Mary, rewomen during this early period. The few, mained "simple, pure, unsullied, drawing but eloquent, surviving texts will have to no germ of life from without, but like God speak for all the Gallegan virgins. The best-known fourth-century Spanish himself, fruitful in singleness" (Jerome 22: 405--06). Jerome's description is remarkably virgin was Etheria, who, left Galicia to make a pilgrimage through the holy lands. She applicable to the experience of chastity as described by the two Iberian virgins, parwas gone for over three years (McClure ticularly his association of fertility (fruit1919:30), and during her trip, she wrote a long letter to her 'reverend sisters' in Galicia fulness) with chastity, and his sexual imagery ("drawing no germ of life from without"). with whom she had presumably lived in a loose-knit community, l~theria's letter is not The first of the letters seems to have been an introspective eulogy of celibacy, but written by an avowed virgin, probably one
100
not riving in a formal community. She wrote to her dear friend and spiritual mentor in affectionate language reminiscent of Etheria (Morin 1928:294). She thanked her friend for a letter and attempted to express her own mystical knowledge, the "prophetic testimony that is in the mystery of the bride of Christ" (Morin 1928:293), by symbolic images. The image she chose most frequently was that of fertility. In the short, three-page letter, she ust.d some form of the wordsfructusandfecundilas eight times as well as references to water, pregnancy and the womb, which were clearly further associations with fertility. The complex images can be distilled into one central thought: by foregoing carnal knowledge, a virgin receives God's spirit into her uterus from which she, in turn, giv,'~ birth to God's word to benefit others, in a spiritual emulation of Mary's virgin birth (Morin 1928:293--4). The virgin author of the letter believed that the benefit to others by 'spiritual' rather than 'carnal' knowledge was didactic. Everyone could benefit from knowledge gained by a virgin. The author praised her friend's teachings in her obscure, sexually symbolic way: " . . . fruit pours forth from your womb; that you may carry your child (that is, knowledge) about and show it in Egypt (the world), that is, to us survivors of a darkened generation, you may show the fruit of your doctrine" (Morin 1928:294). These basic themes appear in the second letter, written also by a fourth-century religious woman to an acquaintance. The writer was urging her friend to withdraw temporarily from the world to a monastery cell,* to imlate herself, fast and pray for three weeks between Christmas and
Epiphany (Morin 1928:300). This fast and isolation were in imitation of the Virgin Mary's post-pattern recuperation. It was to be a restorative period as well as a commemorative time, when women who could not dedicate their lives by being brides of Christ could benefit from a period of reflective chastity. The writer urged her friend to be like Mary, " c a l m . . . in the tenth month with. the box of your body in f l o o d . . , you will not go out in p u b l i c . . . " (Morin 1928:298). By this withdrawal, prayer and fasting, she would heal her body and perhaps receive a revelation (Morin 1928: 301). In spite of the intensely personal mysticism that pervades this second letter, the writer nevertheless implied a benefil larger than the personal one: " . . . j u s t as within the hidden womb of the uterus, just as within the secret cell of the monastery, something is formed in us, which shall bring us to health and in the tenth month, new works will appear from our fruit, which the world will wonder at" (Morin 1928:297). This passage summarizes the views expressed in both these difficult but fasci.nating letters, and if they are indeed representative, they are remarkably consistent with traditional associations between personal sexual abstinence and community prosperity. Even though we have few documents which express the motivations and feelings of these women, the amount of legislation at the Council of Elvira (about 300) directed to dedicated virgins suggests that there were probably many women who had chosen this way of life3 It is difficult to describe precisely how these women lived, since there was no prescribed mode of life for virgins dedicated to God before the establishment
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of convents. Probably the most co~nmon way of life was for a consecrated woman to remain with her family. It was difficult to re.~ist family pressures to marry, and legends of early Christian heroines reflect this struggle that must have been repeated in many households when a woman announced that she refused to marry and chose to remain at home supported by her father. One, Castissime, had to run away disguised as a man to avoid her father's insistence, s Another, Benedicta, was betrothed to one of the king's guard and ran away to avoid marriage (Nock 1946:116). Helle, in language strongly reminiscent of pagan fertility symbols, was described as being "as beautiful as the moon TM and remained at home after winning her right to remain virgin in a long dialogue with her mother. Helie's mother marshalled examples from saints and scriptures to support her position: "Either receive marriage; or you shall be damned. T M In spite of Helie's protestations that truth was not discovered by disputation, she responded with an impressive number of biblical examples to support her somewhat extreme anti-nuptial position: "Profess virginity; or be damned. ' ' u Her parents despaired of convincing her, and presented her to a judge to see if she might be seized as a wife. The third book of Helie's Vita is her dialogue with the judge. She persevered with long, eloquent speeches, exempting herself from the judge's scriptural admonition that "it is better to marry than burn," by saying: "it is true that scripture says it is better to marry than burn; but not for everyone, that is, not for holy virgins. T M To demonstrate that such scriptural demands did not apply equally to everyoJ,e,
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Helle pointed to an irLequality in applying secular laws: "Men ate not bound by laws promulgated for women. ''sa Her arguments won her the right to iaave as her husband " . . . one who presides not on earth, but in heaven."14 Even ifa girl bowed to social pressure and married, she could stii~l live as virgo intorta. St Jerome heard of this Spanish practice and described it with :l good deal of scepticism: "They live in th~ same house, enclose themselves in the same room and sometimes sleep in the same bed . . . . [Nevertheless] the women do not deny, but affirm that their virginity was intact" (Perez de Urbel 1933: 91-2). Even if a marriage were consummated, a woman couId still decide to live chastely and dedicate herself to God, although she no longer was technically virgo intaaa. As implied by the second of the two letters of anonymous Spanish virgins, living chastely seems to have been accorded only slightly less status than perpetual virginity, and the Christian legends have numerous examples of men and women taking vows after years of marriage, is Most of these consecrated women lived ordinary lives, tending their family homes, walking through town or shopping, although members of the community knew of their special dedication. The women may have worn a special article of clothing distinguishing themselves, perhaps a veil, since a later law of the sixth century forbade " . . . widows from wearing religious clothing on top of their regular lay clothes to pretend that they have taken v o w s . . . " (Scott 1910:109-10). Living within the family, however, was by no means the only possibility for early Spanish virgins. Sometimes holy women chose t~ live with holy men. Priests, especi-
ally in the countryside, frequently had women living with them. Often these women took vows of celibacy and were called agapetas or subintroductas (Perez de Urbel 1933:92). While the Church legislated ag:~i~,~t this practice (ConciliaHispaniae, MPL 84:330), through the fifth century it must have been common, and undoubtedly it was popular with villagers who would thus have their parish priest and holy virgin together, accessible to benefit the community. There were also hermits living in this region, and they seem to have been willing to provide a home for consecrated women. Braulio, the seventh-century hagiographer of St Emilian, praised, perhaps excessively, Emilian's ability to withstand temptation of the flesh: "He lived with holy virgins ~.nd, from his eightieth year o n . . . he calmly a c c e p t e d . . , all :',e services of the maidservant of G o d . . . y e t . . , he never experienced a trace of dishonorable passion . . . . " (Barlow 1969:133--4). Apparently, serving holy men was considered a worthy occupation for holy women, but it is difficult to imagine an independent pilgrim such as Etheria living her life as a lady-in-waiting. For such women, it was possible to live alone, isolated in rural areas, but this seems to have been rare, or temporary. For example, Benedicta, who fled from her high-born betrothed, lived for a while in a small hut in the forest. Soon, however, "when her reputation was heralded with p l a i s e . . , such an ardent desire inspired other young maidens ofvarious families that from all sides a splendid troop of women gladly came, s o . . . the number of holy w6men in the congregation reached eighty'" (Neck 1946:!!6-18). It was probably to
one of these loose-knit anchorite communities that Etheria belonged. There were no rules for any of the virgins, wherever they lived, and no vows except a commitment to chastity. They traveled when it pleased them, whether as far as the Holy Land or to visit nearby friends as did the anonymous author of letter no. 1 (Morin 1928:295-96). Whatever their way of life, as holy virgins they were extremely important to the community. Since they conferred fertility by their abstinence, they were held in awe and respect by villagers in their vicinity. They also moved frequently, bringing town views to their rural communities, and bringing their observations on rural life to their town friends. These same activities, however, made them a threat to the nascent official Ghurch of the early fifth century which, together with the newly converted Visigothic monarchy, was trying to bring uniformity and orthodoxy to the kingdom. The men of the official Church did not encourage the association of all-important fertility magic with women holding themselves aloof from both ofli,,ial sncial structures and official religiosity. One of the most informative documents about official conceptions of virginity was the sixth-century Rule of St Leander of Seville, written to his sister, Florentina. Leander demonstrates the struggle to transform highly respected, independent virgins into obedient, orthodox, isolated nuns. By the late sixth century, most of Iberia's virgins were living formally in convents, but some of Leander's images recall an older view of virginity which was never completely eradicated. In his preface, which was a long praise of virginity, Leander recognized the sacrificial quality of a dedicated virgin,
" . . . the oblations acceptable to God and covsecrated on the altars of heaven" (McKenna 1935:25), yet he avoided making the traditional association of sacrifice with the purchase of fertility. The official Church consistently attempted to ignore the magic potential of virginity, but as Leander demonstrates, it was never completely able to do so, managing to go only halfway, accepting a virgin as a sacrifice, but leaving it unclear for what she was sacrificing. Leander also continued the Cd practice of associating virginity with health. To phrase it obversely and more theoretically, the penalty of carnal knowledge w.ts death. Reti.~rring to the dangers .of childbirth, Leander wrote: " . . . the mother perishes with the child and all the pomp of marriage ends in death" (McKenna 1935:25). While Leander strongly advocated virginity as a way oflife that promised rewards in heaven, that is "to be numbered among the 144,000 w h o . . . [sing] the song that virg'ns alone may s i n g . . . " (Schulenburg 1978:121), he could not completely dismiss marriage for fear of falling into the dualist heresy that had plagued Spain during the early centuries. His argument in favour of marriage, drawn from Jerome, recalls a time when virginity was praised as an end in itself, not solely a path to salvation : "From a marriage a virgin is born" (McKenna 1935: 25;Jerome 22:403). But virginity had to be incorporated into, and controlled by, the church hierarchy, and Leander clearly recognized this necessity. The obvious first step in regulating and controlling dedicated virgins was co eliminate the diversity of their styles of life. A woman who dedicated her sexualit~ to God, was no longer to live at home , o r with
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others who remained within the world. Leander accurately identified such informal living arrangements as belonging to a preChristian era: "Virgins should flee a private life; not only because they might imitate others they see in the cities, but because it is a pagan custom merely tolerated by the Church for those converts who wished to continue to live alone [or at least outside a" community]" (Leander 72:890). Leander was not alone in urging informally dedicated virgins to become nuns. Early legislation on this subject was abundant. Women were ordered to take formal and legally binding vows of virginity (Concilia Hispaniae, MPL 84:303). Increasingly, Church law condemned the breaking of vows rather than the fall from chastity itself (ConciliaHispaniae, MPL 84:397 and 443). While there were probably always women who chose a private life of chastity, by and large from the seventh century dedicated virgins lived in communities bound by legal vows and under episcopal discipline. The Church wanted to modify not only the virgins' way of life, but also the ideal of virginity itself. Once it may have been enough for a woman to preserve her virginity in order to be held in awe for her sacrifice. St Jerome, however, was representative of the early Church fathers in l-,elieving that " . . . the virgin must keep herself [free] not only from every physical con•~amination but also from every other kind of sin." In fact, corporal purity is of little value i~"not accompanied by purity oflife (Schulenburg 1978:129). Virginity was to be a means t,J an end, to smooth the way to salvation, 1atber than an end in itself. To what degree Visigothic nuns accepted this expanded view of virginity of the spirit
as well as of the flesh is difficult to say. For example, in an old Visigothic Codex regularum 16 of a convent, there is a section containing seven saints' lives. 17 All seven saints were women, and curiously, in an age of martyrs, none had been martyred. The unifying theme of these lives was that of each woman successfully preserving her virginity (or at least her chastity) in the face of demanding husbands (Melania), irate fathers (Castissime), persuasive mothers (Helie) or society in general (Maria Egyptiae). In these stories it was considered virtuous for these women to lie, steal, and disobey the authority of family or spiritual leaders in order to preserve their chastity. These activities hardly fulfill Jerome's mandate that virgins should keep themselves free from all sins, not only those of the flesh. Within the convents, however, the stories were copied and preserved as testimony to the high value placed on virginity itself. Furthermore, these stories were read for instructional purposes, thus perpetuating behind convent walls many of the values that had existed in this region since the time virgins had lived within the world. Galicia was a region whose people always had a high regard for virginity as a spiritual, if somewhat mysterious state, and as a sacrifice that brought fertility to the ungenerous land. By the seventh century, the official Church had largely succeeded in regulating and institutionalizing GaUegan ritual virginity, As nuns, women were subject to the discipline of the local bishop. They were bound by vows carrying the force of law and by laws directly ordering their lives (Scott 1910:107). Within the convents, however, the feelings and motives that had moved fourth-century women to
dedicate their sexuality to God were never completely transformed. Strong abbesses who ruled their own houses and sometimes presided over a double monastery of men and women (Morris 1973:8) would have surely been familiar to the independent pilgrim, Etheria, who befriended just such an abbess in the Holy Land (McClure 1919: 210). Marriage to Christ continued to provide an opportunity for independe,tt women to remain that way. Also, from the monastic writings faithfully copied, one can still feel the mystic strain. Virginity was a blessed, magic state both sufficient in itself and yet a means to divine, instead of carnal, union. The convents themselves became a collective symbol of sacrificial virginity. As such, they continued to be revered by neighbouring villagers, yet they were more controllable than independent virgins, and therefore less of a threat to the Church. While the Iberian church did not completely change traditional views of virgins as powerful in their own right, a compromise was struck between popular respect fiJr virgins as fertility symbols and more orthodox views of virginity as a path to salvation. It was in this compromise that the veneration of virgins was carried to cities and into the later centuries of the middle ages. .Notes i An analysisof a related characteristicof peasant societies is proposed by George M. Foster: " . . . peasantsview their social,economic,and natural universes - their total environment - as one in which all of tile desired things in life.., exist in finite quantity and are always in short supply, as far as the peasant is concerned" (Potter 1967:304). 2 MikhailBakhtin noted the relationshipbetween blood and fertility in popular legend: "[Rabelais] relates that after Abel's killing the earth absorbed his
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blood and became fertile" ( 1965:279). For a discussion of peasants' lear and respect of blood, including menstrual blt~bcl, see Potter (1967:309). a Werner .Stark noted the importance of symbolic references in the study of religions: "Not literal truth, but symbolic truth is what matters in rdigion. Differendy expressed, a legend, though incredible on the level ofliteralness, may well convey in an allegorical fashion a very bard and fast fact" (1970:127). * John Bugge has an excellent analysis of noetic communion with God which is more accessible through the virgin state, and concludes that : "A chief trait of the virgin saint or virgin martyr is an intimate knowledge of the mind of God" (1975:46). Virginity is an ontological kinship with the divine existence which gives it the ability to comprehend Perfection (Bugge 1975 : 16). s While she uses the word monasterius twice in this letter, Jt seems clear that she is referring to an isolated hermit's retreat ratber than a coenobitic communi:y (Morin 1928:298 and 301). No puede ponerse en duda que las jovenes consagradas a Cristo baja el velo de la pureza se contaban en gran numero, ya que el ano 3 0 0 . . . (Vizmanos L949:604). On a European scale, Jane Schulenburg also recognized this trend, noting that for early candidates for canonization " . . . the primary profession was that of consecrated virginity outside of an organized monastic community" (1978:120). s Madrid, Escorial MS. a I1 9, f. 115v. m Escorial MS. a 11 9, f. 73v. no Escorial MS. a 11 9, f. 86v: Aut suscipies nuptias; aut damnabis. n Escorial MS. a I 1 9, f. 86v : Virginitas profitend~ cst; aut damnanda. n Escoriai MS. a 1I 9, f. 90v: Quod vero scriptum dlcis nubere melius esse quam uri; non omnibus, id est non sacris virginibus . . . . ta Escorial MS. a 11 9, f. 90v: Quomodo lex mulieribus promulgata, masculos non constringat? ~4 Escorial MS. a I1 9, f. 90v: Est mici sponsus, qui non in terra presidet; sed in cclo. nb Perez de Urbel described several fourth-century husband and wife ascetic partners, for example, Damaso and Laurencia, Paulino and Teresa, and Lucino and Tcodora (1933:89-90). is Visigothic monasteries and convents were not governed solely by a particular Rule, in spite of the fact that several Iberian monastic Rules were written. Instead, each bouse had a Codexregula~m, a collection of r:des, saints' lives and other gritings considered useful to monks and nuns. Members of the house would try generally to live in a way consistent with the writings in their Codex.
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17 Escorial MS. a I1 9: Melania, Castissime, Helle, Egeria, Pelagia, Maria Aegyptie, and Constantinae.
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