Chapters (39)
- Also by
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- CHAPTER 33
- Author’s Note
- Teaser chapter
Divorce in this time period was indeed as rare and draconian as depicted in Once Dishonored. Only a handful were granted a year and because of the cost, only the very rich could even attempt it. I didn’t go into too much detail about divorce in the book because it’s complicated, and boring if too detailed.
The few divorces granted were almost invariably on the grounds of adultery by the wife and there were two phases, the civil and religious. The civil issue was a “CrimCon” trial, that is, the crime of adultery, usually meaning a lengthy, flagrant affair. It was considered a matter of property; that is, the wife was the property of her husband and having an affair diminished her property value. (Pause to insert an eye roll here.)
The wife was not allowed to attend the trial nor to testify because under Anglo-Saxon common law, the husband and wife are one, and the one is the husband. If the CrimCon suit was successful, the lover generally had to pay a large fine to the husband for alienation of affection.
Then the husband sued the wife for adultery and the trial was held in an ecclesiastical court. If successful, the result would be divortium a mensa et thoro, that is, a separation of bed and board, and neither party could remarry. For remarriage, a Parliamentary Private Bill of Divorcement had to be filed and a third trial was held. A successful result would be a divorce a vinculo matrimonii.
As I said—complicated! So divorces were very rare, very expensive, and very scandalous. I don’t know of any divorce cases like the one I created for Kendra, but I think it could have happened—English law has its share of gray areas. The bottom line is that Regency divorce was particularly hard on women.
It may seem strange these days to read of men who were disdained and despised for taking the opportunity to escape imprisonment, but the code of honor was vitally important to Regency gentlemen. To give one’s word was a sacred promise; to break that promise was proof of dishonesty and bad character. No wonder oath breakers were despised and considered beneath contempt!
For a prisoner to give his parole was a pledge of his sacred honor that he wouldn’t escape if released from his cell and given the freedom of the local town. In return, his captors would try to exchange him for a prisoner of the same rank. A British captain could be exchanged for a French captain and so forth.