About Preventing Children

Folk in Classical and Medieval times developed many methods for avoiding getting pregnant, but sometimes the inevitable happened. The Bible's statement to "be fruitful and multiply" made the Church's stance on aborting a pregnancy clear, but the rest of the culture did not always see it that way.

Avicenna (c.980 - 1037) offered this reasoning:

At times it may be necessary to induce abortion; that is, when the pregnant woman is young and small and it is feared that childbirth would cause her death, or when she suffers from a disease of the uterus or when a fleshy growth in the uterus makes it very difficult for the fetus to emerge. Also when the fetus dies in the womb of the woman. Know that when labour continues for four days it means that the fetus is already dead.

Methods of abortion could be dangerous to the women as well. Hippocrates had refused to use abortifacients because of the danger they posed to the mother. The early Church stated that women who abort a child should be exiled from the church. A synod in 314 modified that to 10 years of exile. The Church Father Basil the Great later softened that, saying it should be less if the woman shows repentance.

In another case, a woman was sentenced to death for aborting her child precisely because she did it with malicious intent to prevent her husband (whom she had come to hate) from having an heir. Roman law allowed that, if a woman were to do the same thing for the same reason but it post-divorce, then she should only be exiled.

The Church Father St. John Chrysostom criticized abortions, but gave the example of a sex worker who needed to abort a pregnancy or else she would lose her livelihood. He goes so far as to blame her male client, who was responsible for getting her pregnant, as the real murderer.

A 9th century Byzantine author of a biography of a Greek Patriarch Ignatios tells the story of a woman with a breech birth who is in intense pain. The doctors prepare for an embryotomy (removing the baby by cutting it into parts and removing them). The 6th-century Bishop Paul of Mérida, who trained as a doctor in his youth, doesn't scruple to perform an embryotomy to save a woman's life.

That late-term abortions can find their way into accounts of religious lives and can be justified by Christian saints suggests a very different attitude toward the health and safety of the mother than is sometimes taken these days.

Embrotomies would have been difficult for the surgeon and the patient. Let's talk next about some of the other surgical practices that were employed in the Middle Ages. 

Avoiding Pregnancy

Yesterday we talked about medieval parents having large families. Today we're going to talk about preventing large families. Although Canon Law insisted that sex was solely to be engaged in for procreation, in the "real world" that was not a feasible attitude. (Pope Gregory IX even stated that marriages entered into intending not to have children were ipso facto null.) There were, therefore, plenty of instances where becoming pregnant was not a desirable outcome of sex. Therefore, methods were devised for avoiding pregnancy.

The simplest one was for the woman to track her menstruation. Lack of menstruation could lead to pregnancy, so either knowing reliably when menstruation would occur or inducing it was one method. Herbal remedies were often readily available around the house as prophylactics against pregnancy. Parsley, Queen Anne's Lace,* and Pennyroyal were considered effective in inhibiting fertility.

Another way to prevent pregnancy was by inserting something into the cervix. Lacking modern IUDs, Avicenna's Canon of Medicine suggests mint "in there" would prevent conception. Aristotle taught that rubbing the womb with cedar oil, lead ointment or incense, mixed with olive oil, would prevent the sperm from coming in contact with the woman. (The lead ointment had other damaging effects.) Also, wooden blocks were not uncommon, and very uncomfortable.

One could try to prevent the sperm from reaching its goal through a barrier, or one could try to kill the sperm. Medieval and Classical spermicides included inserting a cloth after the act that was soaked in vinegar, or honey, or grated acacia leaves soaked in honey (the sap in acacia is spermicidal).

Another way to "avoid pregnancy" is to pretend one is not pregnant. I grew up understanding the meaning of the phrase "she's gone to her sister's" to explain a long absence.

A French novel (only a little later than the Middle Ages) has advice to a teenage girl about sex, and assures the girl that getting pregnant unexpectedly is easily managed, but not by abortion:

...moreover, to remove any worry, there is one more thing to consider, it is that this mishap is not so extraordinary that one should fear it so much. There are so many pregnant girls who never attract notice, thanks to certain corsets and dresses made to order, which they use, and which do not prevent them from having a good time with those who made them pregnant.

...and during that interval, you can simulate illness, trips, pilgrimages. When the time comes, you will identify a midwife who is obliged in conscience to keep the fact hidden. [L'Escole des Filles]

If the calendar was off, if contraception didn't work, then eliminating the fetus was the next step, but we'll look at that grisly topic tomorrow

*The name is for Anne, Queen of Great Britain (1665 - 1714); earlier names would have been "bishop's lace" or "bird's nest" or simply "wild carrot."

Were There Children in the Middle Ages?

Until fairly recently there was an idea that "childhood" as we think of it today did not exist in the Middle Ages. You can see this in a recent online essay:

Regardless of social class, childhood in the late Middle Ages was markedly different from what we know today. Children were viewed as miniature adults, expected to contribute to the family’s livelihood from an early age. [link]

One of the reasons behind this theory is pictures from the era that show little distinction in clothing worn by children and adults. That essay goes on to say:

Playtime was limited, and the concept of a carefree, innocent childhood was virtually nonexistent. Instead, children were taught the skills necessary for survival.

One of the first serious explorations of daily life in the Middle Ages found evidence against this theory. The Ties That Bound: Peasant Families in Medieval England, by Barbara Hanawalt, looked at coroners' reports in England that explored deaths. Interrogation of witnesses regarding "what you were doing when..." turn up a wide variety of daily activity that otherwise would never have been recorded. Those reports tell us that young children (with ages in the single digits) are playing at home or outside with friends, and not dragged into slavish agricultural labor or being drilled in the "skills necessary for survival." In fact, children are out playing and falling into ditches or dying in other accidents totally unsupervised by adults. They kicked balls around, or played catch, or were playing with toys or dolls by the hearth when disaster struck.

There is another notion that parents did not love their children the same way modern parents do. Because families were larger than they often are now, and because a child might be given the same name as a child born previous to the same parents that had died early on, the feeling is that parents considered babies interchangeable, or merely as a way to produce "more laborers" for the family business. There are plenty of recorded examples of parents grieving for dead children, lullabies that were sung to babies, and toys and games that were made for them. More affluent families had advice books written for raising children well and making sure they are moral.

The Church supported the difference between children and adults:

It came to regard children under the age of puberty as too immature to commit sins or to understand adult concepts and duties. [link]

Puberty was 12 for girls and 14 for boys, and that is when they generally began to be educated in ways that would lead to economic success in the future, either in their parents' trade or as an apprentice to some other person with a desirable career.

Since a large part of the population—perhaps up to a third—at any time was under the age of puberty, there was no getting around the idea that children were different and needed to be nurtured and cared for, not treated as tiny adults. That's a lot of babies being produced at any time, and a lot of mouths to feed. Was there a way around that? Did the Middle Ages have methods of contraception available to them? Let's take a look at that topic tomorrow.

Raising Moral Children

Ramon Llull was a 13th century Catalan mystic and theologian whose controversial writings made him many enemies. One of his more interesting metaphors that perhaps was not so controversial was about raising moral children.

His Doctrina pueril ("Instruction for children") was a guide to moral living addressed to his son Domènec (then between eight and 12 years old). It was important for him to write it out not only as an idea to leave to posterity, but also because he had left his wife and family several years earlier (to become a Franciscan) and therefore was not raising Domènec personally.

Among his pieces of advice for raising children properly, he includes 

...not to expose their children to romances, songs or musical instruments that encourage them to be lustful. To preserve their children’s budding intellects and overall bodily health fathers should ensure that spicy food never be served, as it could overheat their humours and damage their developing brains, and nor should rich food, which would lead them into ill health, gluttony and lust later in life. [link]

Llull does not discuss breastfeeding or wet nurses, but he does emphasize the "health benefits and moral properties" of human milk in the raising of children. Solid food should not be introduced to the child's diet too early, lest the child become "mean and stingy." Llull associates the feeding of children with breast milk with charity, generosity, good upbringing, and the development of moral character. His idea that breast milk contributed to the development of morality was picked up by later philosophers, especially in the Iberian peninsula. The illustration comes from a later published copy of Llull's Doctrina and represents the tree of morality, the choices one makes as one grows that could lead to either joy or punishment.

This was not a strictly religious view in that there is no reference in the Bible to breastfeeding, nor in early Jewish writings. In fact, only the Koran among the Abrahamic religions mentioned the topic. Verse 46:15 mentions a bond between the baby and the source of breast milk that last until the child is about two years old. This was an interesting wrinkle on the subject of wet nurses, since in parts of the Iberian Peninsula, wet nurses were commonly Muslim slaves. Tomorrow, let's talk about wet nursing, slavery, and a little about "milk siblings."

Care and Feeding of Princes

Since "infant formula" was not invented until the 20th century, breastfeeding was the standard way to get nourishment into a baby. If for some reason a mother could not breastfeed (death in childbirth, illness, disinterest), a wet nurse was found: a lactating woman willing to breastfeed the newborn. There might be another reason a mother could not nurse, especially if she were a high-ranking royal: the desire not to infect the breastmilk.

If you look at family trees of kings and queens, you will see many, many members in each generation. This did not necessarily spring from a deep and abiding sexual attraction between husband and wife. The greatest need of a king/queen was to produce an heir.

The need was for several heirs, in fact. Not only was there a concern about infant mortality, or a grown son dying in battle or by accident before he had a chance to inherit the throne. There was also a political desire to marry children to nobles of your own or other countries in order to create allies through family ties.

How did this need preclude breastfeeding? According to an article from the National Library of Medicine:

There was even a belief that the milk would be contaminated by sexual intercourse, which contraindicated marital relations during the period of lactation, a situation that the queens could not afford. [link]

Since a queen was "ideally" made pregnant as soon as she was able after the birth of a child, her milk was not suitable for the newborn, and so a wet nurse was employed for that vital purpose. Choosing a wet nurse was the province of the queen herself. The wet nurse was not likely to be a woman off the street, but a member of a royal family who was lactating. The wages for a royal wet nurse were very high compared to other professions available to females in the Middle Ages.

There's a lot more medieval discussion about breast milk than one might think. The philosopher and theologian Ramon Llull had advice for raising children that focused on human milk. I'll share that next time.

Mortgaging Children

This is the story of Philip of Courtenay (1243 - 15 December 1283). He was one of the Latin Emperors of Constantinople—the empire was established after the disastrous and mis-guided (literally) Fourth Crusade—even though the Byzantine Empire had re-established control in 1261. Technically he was an "Emperor in Exile."

He was born in Constantinople, the child of Baldwin II and Marie of Brienne. Baldwin was the last of the Latin Emperors who actually ruled from Constantinople. The difficulty with the "Latin Emperors of Constantinople" was that they didn't have the resources they would have enjoyed at home. They weren't landowners living off rents. Baldwin's "territory" was essentially the city itself, and he did not have the resources to control the country around him, where life just went on.

Baldwin went westward to beg for money, asking Rome and France to help support him financially. One plan was to supplant the Marchioness Margaret of Namur (a sometimes independent state, now basically a city in Belgium) to have the Namur revenues. It didn't matter to him that Margaret was his sister. Baldwin didn't stay to manage Namur, however, and after it was invaded by the Count of Luxembourg, Baldwin sold the rights to his cousin, Count Guy of Flanders.

Baldwin left Marie and a regency council behind while he traveled Europe begging. In 1238 they sold the Crown of Thorns to Venice for 13,134 hyperpyrons. Around that time Baldwin got money from Louis IX of France in exchange for some other relics, of which Constantinople had many.

But this is about his son, Philip, and you can guess where this is going. Baldwin and Marie borrowed 24,000 hyperpyrons from Venetian merchants. The mortgage, the surety for this loan, was their son, Philip of Courtenay. Philip was five years old at the time. He was sent to Venice to live in the household of two merchant brothers. He was there from 1248 until he was 17, in 1260, when the mortgage was paid with the help of Alfonso X of Castile.

Mortgaging your child seems like a cruel act by a desperate parent. As difficult as it is to argue with that, as usual, medieval sensibilities were different from ours, and never more so than in the idea of a hostage. In fact, the meaning and practice of "hostage" is my next topic.