From some old images that I had seen and, to be honest, from the coats of arms of the Velasco and Mendoza families linked by a Franciscan cord that was over the main entrance, I assumed that I was in front of the Palace of the Constables of Castile, known today as the house of Cordón (Burgos), and meeting place with my host:Bernardino Fernández de Velasco y Mendoza, the Condestable himself. It was the spring of 1487. Since people hardly looked at me, I assumed that this time none of my clothing was out of place. I took a look at myself and saw that my passage through the Middle Ages was going to be done with an ecru tunic with wide sleeves and up to the knees, adorned with garnet geometric embroidery on the neck, cuffs and hem; a leather belt with a metal buckle; leggings that covered my legs and leather ankle boots. When I reached the gate of the walled compound, two uniformed and armed soldiers flanked the passage. I stood to one side waiting to see if I had to introduce myself to enter, very difficult because I didn't know who he was, or to show some document, which I didn't have either. Seeing that the locals passed by without any control, I joined the group. Just as I was about to cross the portico, one of the soldiers, a nightclub doorman version, stood in front of me...
Are you the merchant Javier?
Yes, I am -I answered hoping it was the right answer
The Constable is waiting for you. come with me
Like a little lamb following his mother to nurse, I clung to his wake.
Wait here - he told me when we were near the entrance of the palace
While I was waiting for the Constable, or so I wanted to believe, I realized that you didn't have to be very smart to know that something was being celebrated there:a large table with jars of wine and food, decorations here and there, happy people and with Sunday clothes. Still, something didn't add up to be a great celebration. The faces and hands of the men and women around me, tanned, dark, and worn, were typical of people who worked from sunup to sundown and not idle nobles. His clothing, though clean and neat, was made of wool and linen; there was no silk, no gold or silver decorations. They were townspeople. And I, I a merchant. So, just as I had anticipated, this looked like a serf wedding.
My dear Javier -I heard behind me
I turned and saw a large, stocky man with high-ranking clothing and insignia coming towards me. While he gave me a big hug he told me...
Welcome to my house, which is yours.
Well, I wouldn't mind if it was -I thought-.
I thought you weren't here, the bride was just delivered.
I'm sorry Constable, I hope you'll excuse me.
Don't worry. Join us. Let's see, a jug of wine for my friend.
As we drank, he filled me in on the celebration. Once the betrothal contract and the dowry deposit letter were signed between the father of the bride and the groom, today the ritual was celebrated in which the officiating cleric handed over the wife, passing the parental authority from the father to the husband. Although both spouses were servants, the groom was the son of a servant who had saved the Constable's life on a hunting day and that is why the wedding was celebrated in the palace chapel. I listened attentively to the Condestabale's explanations, but my head was spinning as to how I could introduce the tricky issues that had brought me there and keep my head on my shoulders. I decided to stall for time and asked about the bouquet and crown of flowers that the bride was wearing.
That is part of the tradition and good omens for the newlyweds. They are made from herbs that ward off evil spirits and flowers that symbolized fertility, purity, or love. Spring is the month of flowers and weddings.
The first test passed, the bouquets of flowers had nothing to do with the belief that they served to counteract the strong odor of those people who barely washed. Now he had to introduce the topic of hygiene and that was very difficult without disturbing the nobleman. The only option I saw, and one that didn't endanger my life, was to compare it with my land, where, to get the information I needed, we were going to be the worst of the worst. Let's see if it worked...
-Well, in my land, flowers are appreciated at weddings to counteract the strong smell that my countrymen give off when they get together in a celebration. It seems that they are allergic to water.
-Those of us present thank you for having forgotten that custom of your land. In any case, how is it possible that the best soap in the world is being made in the kingdom of Castile, specifically in the Reales Almonas de Sevilla, so there are people so dirty?
-I didn't know that soap was made in Seville
- They call it Castile soap and it is exported all over Europe. I have received news that in Marseille they are developing another one that imitates ours, but it is of lower quality. And it is not because I say so, but simply because Seville is the perfect place to produce soap. The raw materials for its production are abundant there:olive oil and barrel, a plant that grows in the Guadalquivir marshes from which soda is obtained.
-And how do you make Marseille?
-They do it with oils other than olive. That's why they can't do anything against ours.
-And this soap-making tradition in Seville is very old?
-So long! It comes from centuries ago. In fact, in Seville these soap factories are called almonas, which comes from the Arabic almuna . The infidels were the ones who started this tradition in Seville. By the way, I suppose that after the long trip you will be hungry. So, let's sit at the table and enjoy that today is a holiday.
It was clear that this banquet had been financed by my host, otherwise it would have been impossible to find white bread, game meat, salted fish and sorbets -a dessert from the gastronomic heritage of the Muslims- at that table. Seeing the astonished faces and salivating mouths, it was clear that most of the guests were of the same condition as the bride and groom. They drank wine as if there were no tomorrow and, knife in hand, they gave a good account of what for them were prohibitive delicacies. Well, it would be fairer to say that we drank and ate, because I got fine too.
I gave the Constable a break and let him enjoy the food, drink, and tokens of appreciation from everyone present. After several jugs of wine between my chest and back, a full stomach and a swollen ego, I understood that it was time to ask the next question:the chastity belt (see final note) .
-And how are things in Granada? -I asked the Constable, knowing that the Catholic Monarchs had been on the offensive for three years to take the Nasrid kingdom of Granada.
-We have just taken Malaga and are moving forward, but there is still a long way to go. There are many squares faithful to the Nasrid king and you will have to take them one by one. In fact, I have to return to the fight in a few days. This day of celebration has only been a small break in this long war.
If I had been able to tell him that in five years, after the capture of Granada, the Catholic Monarchs would name him Viceroy of Granada, I would have won his favor and everything would have been easier. I plucked up the courage and continued.
-Long wars, too many deaths, a lot of time away from home, wives and single daughters exposed to all kinds of criminals. Although serving the king is an honor and winning back a noble cause, I suppose you will also feel sadness and some concern about leaving your family for a long time.
-I am not afraid of battle nor am I afraid of death, because my Destiny is in the hands of God, my only discomfort when I go to war is leaving my people behind and not being able to protect them.
Since I wasn't going to ask him directly if he put a chastity belt on his wife when he went off to fight for months or even years, I decided to repeat the operation he had done with the bad smell and my land. This time I left mine alone and placed the aberration of the chastity belt in kingdoms in northern Europe.
-In my travels through some northern European kingdoms I have been told that before leaving for war, knights put chastity belts on their wives (see not).
-Chastity belts? What is that?
-They are metal gadgets that are placed between the woman's thighs, like small leggings, and are closed with a key to prevent women from being unfaithful during the long absences of their husbands . Some also put them on their daughters so that no one steals their innocence and tarnishes their honor.
-You must be careful where you move, friend. I've never heard such stupidity. Protecting the honor of my wife and the virginity of my daughters with a cage on her thighs... I would have seen such a thing! And how do they do their physiological needs?
-According to what they told me, because I haven't seen them, they have two holes that allow evacuation but prevent the entry of furtive visitors.
-In the only place where I have heard that women are put in a kind of cage in England, and it has nothing to do with their honor but with their language. To the pimps who are convicted of insults or slander they put the so-called "scolding bridle", a locked metal cage that surrounds the head and has a protrusion in the mouth to "hold" the gossip's tongue. If you allow me some friendly advice, reorganize your trade routes and dedicate yourself to trading in civilized places. Have a drink and ditch the chastity belts.
In just a few hours that I had been there, the Constable's idea of me was that he came from a land of pigs and that he traded in wild places forsaken by the hand of God. I let the Constable enjoy the final performance, a mixture of music, dance and small performances in which the artists invited the guests to participate, and I prepared my final thrust:the theme of the right of pernada. Everyone laughed, danced and the Constable was smiling and euphoric.
- Cheer up Javier. He comes out and dances with the rest of the guests.
-God has not endowed me with the art of dance
-This is not a competition, it's just a party to have fun. It won't be that in your land, in addition to smelling bad, you don't know how to dance either... -said the Constable laughing out loud
Although it was a hurtful comment, I knew that the social status of one and the other advised, for my own good, not to answer him as he deserved, but I was not going to sit like an idiot doing nothing either. So, even knowing that I was going to be the jester of the party, I took a drink so that the wine would hide my embarrassment, I picked up the Constable's glove and I launched myself onto the dance floor.
Despite the fact that I was more of the “Saturday Night Fever” style and that choreographed dance was completely unknown to me, it was not difficult for me to take the four steps and a few jumps to follow the dance. In fact, it didn't take me long to turn the laughs of the guests into smiles and I even thought I saw some mischievous giggles. Mind you, my dance display didn't last long. If the tobacco and the little exercise that I did lately were already a drag on me, the binge and the wine ended up reminding me that my state of form was not the most adequate to prolong my dance exhibition too much. I sat next to the Constable and waited for his sentence…
-I see you're not up for jogging but I recognize you have art.
-You do what you can with the background you have.
-Take this restorative.
It was a hot and spiced wine that, to be honest, came in handy to recover some of the energy I left on the dance floor. While I was recovering, the Constable was still being praised for the banquet and the party. They were signs of gratitude and, also, of homage. After all, this day was only a small parenthesis in a servile relationship between the lord and his vassals. I was sharpening my claws and prepared the last play.
-A party in style.
-What less! I owe my life to the groom's father. I told him to ask me for anything and this is what he chose.
-From his faces, everyone is satisfied. And even if tomorrow they have to go back to their daily chores, they will remember this day for a long time.
-When the party is over, each little owl goes to its olive tree and tomorrow, as you say, we all have to go back to our chores:I prepare everything to go to war, the servants to their jobs and you to travel to sell your products.
-Each owl to his olive tree, the bride will remain tonight in your rooms for the right of the first night.
-Who do you take me for?
From his comment and, above all, the expression of anger on his face it was clear that he had screwed up. He had confided in me and released it without attributing this practice to my land or other realms as he had with poor hygiene and the chastity belt. Let's see how I get out of that mess...
-I thought…
-I thought, I thought… you think too much to be a simple merchant-he cut me off without letting me finish-. There is no right or privilege by which we nobles have the power to spend the wedding night with the wife of our vassals. None!
-My apologies, Constable. Forgive my audacity -I excused myself as I stopped being familiar with him.
-Let's see, tell me your theory
-No, no, leave it. You don't need to explain anything to me. It was the result of my ignorance.
-I order you to speak! he yelled as he hit the table
The music stopped, there was silence among the attendees and my shirt did not reach my body. After a few endless seconds, the Constable turned to the minstrels and the dancers and waved his hands indicating that the party should continue. He turned the hubbub and…
Calm. Take a drink, gather strength and tell me.
I swallowed hard, steeled myself and answered
-I had understood that the right of the first night is a privilege by which the nobles have the power to spend the wedding night with the wife of their vassals, and that the husband can avoid it by means of a payment if the lord consents. .
-Let's start with the simplest, payment. It is true that there is matrimonial servitude, an amount that servants pay us for getting married and that depends on different issues. The highest payment, and which must be previously consented to and accepted by the bride's lord, is when she belongs to a different fiefdom, because when she gets married and moves to the groom's house she loses a servant. But there is no right that allows us to spend the wedding night with our servants. None! -He raised his voice again.
He raised the jug for the cupbearer to pour him more wine, drank and continued…
In exchange for protection and giving them a livelihood, we have the power to decide on numerous issues in the lives of our servants and their possessions. Another very different thing is how each noble interprets and manages this relationship of vassalage. There are those who confuse servitude with slavery and some others who commit abuses, but not based on privileges or invoking rights that our condition attributes to us, but because they are miserable. And to stop these abuses, the Arbitral Judgment of Guadalupe that was promulgated last year by the King of Aragon, Fernando II, has been addressed.
Since he had read it, he knew that precisely in it such rights were prohibited. So, even knowing that I was still sticking my neck out, I quoted a fragment of the sentence...
-I know that sentence, and precisely in it, if I'm not mistaken because I'm speaking from memory, it says that it is forbidden for gentlemen to sleep on their wedding night with their servants and also the ritual of laying them on the bed to step over them in sign of lordship.
-I see you have a good memory because I helped write it and it's almost literal. Either way, you're making a mistake by jumping to conclusions with just a paragraph and forgetting its context and spirit.
Although my answer refuted his explanation, the fact of relying on that document, in which he himself had collaborated, lowered the tension.
-Let's go by parts. You will know that this document put an end to the Remittance War in Catalonia, a war that broke out in response to the abusive practices to which the Catalan peasants were subjected by the lords. The Crown endorsed these claims and sided with the peasants. And with this sentence, in addition to ending the war, they wanted to put an end to the so-called bad manorial uses. It is true that if you stay with the paragraph that you have quoted, it could be a confirmation of the existence of the pernada right, but the reality is that the text as a whole refers to limiting the rights of the lords over the serfs and, above all, , to abolish abusive practices that some lords, in the relationship of power with their serfs, could turn into custom, not law. In fact, in the same sentence it is also prohibited, for example, that the lords take the wives of the serfs as wet nurses for their children; a clear example of an abusive practice and not of a right. Therefore, these prohibitions refer to the abusive practices of some lords that the peasants denounced to the Crown, such as the pernada right. So, we are not talking about manorial rights, but about abuses. The supposed right of pernada that you speak of would be nothing more than a sexual abuse that, by the way, the miserable man on duty would commit whenever he felt like it and he did not have to wait for the wedding nights of his servants.
-I thank you for opening my eyes and clarifying an issue that personally disgusted me.
-And my merchant, and me
Interestingly, he had stopped being Javier to be a merchant. If that was the price I had to pay for my outrage, I was happy to accept it. With the party already giving its last breath and not knowing if the Constable was one of those who had bad drinking, I preferred to anticipate my departure and not continue pushing my luck. So, I proceeded to say goodbye to my host.
-Everything in life has an end. And my time has come to return.
-So soon! I thought you'd stay the night and leave at dawn.
-It's impossible for me. Tomorrow I have to go on a trip and I prefer to get home tonight for all the preparations. It has been an honor that you have opened the doors of your house to me and allowed me to attend this celebration.
-I will forget certain comments you have made that I will attribute to the wine and your ignorance, and I will tell you that it has been a pleasure talking with you.
Even at the moment of farewell he had to continue stirring. Well, that's how they are noble... making their status clear at all times. And I, as the humble vassal that I was in that place, responded with the best of my hypocritical smiles and said goodbye.
Go with God -said the nobleman without getting up from the spot
Note :If we forget the fictional version, more typical of instruments of torture, the most real versions deny their existence based on the difficulties of movement or even sitting and, above all, on the lacerations or ulcers with infections that the use could cause. for a long time of these gadgets. So, instead of safeguarding honor, what they would have achieved is putting women's health at risk. Moreover, it is even believed that they could be used by women themselves, in more bearable versions and for short periods of time, to protect themselves from frequent rapes during soldiers' quarters or on sea voyages.
Source:Stories of History (Storytel)