Throughout history, with the exception of modern times, marriage was always for practical purposes. It was almost unheard of to marry for love.
The following is an exert from the book The Last Kingdom (Saxon Tales) by Bernard Cornwell (page 265 / Kindle location 4434-71). The story takes place in the late 800s AD and is about the Saxons/English, and Danes from the north that invaded. It’s historical fiction and illustrates how life was really like then. I bolded the more relevant parts.
“The bishop was already there, two other priests fussed with the guttering candles on the high altar, and then Ealdorman Odda arrived with my bride. Who took one look at me and burst into tears. What was I expecting? A woman who looked like a sow, I suppose, a woman with a pox-scarred face and a sour expression and haunches like an ox. No one expects to love a wife, not if they marry for land or position, and I was marrying for land and she was marrying because she had no choice, and there really is no point in making too much of a fuss about it, because that is the way the world works. My job was to take her land, work it, make money, and Mildrith’s duty was to give me sons and make sure there was food and ale on my table. Such is the holy sacrament of marriage. I did not want to marry her. By rights, as an ealdorman of Northumbria, I could expect to marry a daughter of the nobility, a daughter who would bring much more land than twelve hilly hides in Defnascir. I might have expected to marry a daughter who could increase Bebbanburg’s holdings and power, but that was plainly not going to happen, so I was marrying a girl of ignoble birth who would now be known as Lady Mildrith and she might have shown some gratitude for that, but instead she cried and even tried to pull away from Ealdorman Odda. He probably sympathized with her, but the bride-price had been paid, and so she was brought to the altar and the bishop, who had come back from Cippanhamm with a streaming cold, duly made us man and wife. “And may the blessing of God the Father,” he said, “God the son, and God the Holy Ghost be on your union.” He was about to say amen, but instead sneezed mightily. “Amen,” Willibald said. No one else spoke. So Mildrith was mine.”
For those of you who live in countries where arranged marriages aren’t typical, aren’t you grateful marriage customs have changed?
Aren’t you grateful no one can force you to marry anyone, or marry at all?
Aren’t you grateful you don’t need to marry to be accepted in society?
Aren’t you grateful you don’t need to marry to own land or be successful?
Aren’t you grateful that if you choose to marry, you and your spouse can agree not to follow some of the more outdated and dysfunctional rules of traditional marriage if they don’t work for you?
Copyright © 2014 Stephen Petullo
