Murderers (with Sandra Walklate and Samantha Pegg, Cullompton: Willan Publishing 2006) and Women, Crime and Justice since 1660 (with Louise Jackson, Basingstoke: Palgrave 2009).
Introduction
This chapter reviews the social and cultural history of sexual violence between the medieval period and the new interpretations of Second Wave Feminism in the late twentieth century. Many of the sources historians use come from the law, the courts and the police. Therefore, much of what can be known about sexual violence in the past becomes visible when it became a matter of criminality; something that occurred only rarely. Historically, there were very few rape, attempted rape or indecent assault cases (around 1 per cent of known felonies in the Early Modern period) and much sexual violence has remained socially and criminologically opaque (Walker 1998: 1). This is perhaps especially true for sexual violence experienced by men and boys; until very recently a different legal framework was applied and the constraints on speaking publicly were often even heavier.
Recorded interpersonal violence in Western Europe declined significantly between the medieval period and the mid-twentieth century (Gurr 1981; Eisner 2003). This has been explained by increasing control through legal sanctions and a growing criminal justice system to enforce them combined with the shaping of modern social identities which privileged restraint over all kinds of bodily excesses. Consequently this ‘civilising process’ reduced interpersonal violence, mostly public violence between males intended to resolve disputes and preserve personal honour (Elias 1978; Carroll 2007). Sexual violence qualifies the ‘civilising process’ concept. Although there is a ‘dark figure’ of undisclosed and unprosecuted criminal activity of all kinds, the extremely low levels recorded since medieval times make sexual violence a special case.
In the UK in the early twenty-first century a range of studies indicate that only something like 5 per cent of rapes reported to the police end in conviction. Furthermore fewer than half of rapes are ever reported – in some studies the non-reporting figure is between 80 and 90 per cent (Bourke 2007: 390–94). While we do not have comprehensive crime figures for earlier historical periods, the very low numbers tried, together with the appearances of sexual violence in the records of different offences, suggest persuasively that there has been a consistent historical continuity in non-reporting. For this reason alone, it cannot be assumed that sexual violence has followed the long- term downward trend of other kinds of interpersonal violence. Furthermore, crime statistics have numerous shortcomings in documenting the incidence of sexual violence, and shifting perceptions and categories of sexual violence over time mean that we cannot know how much of what would now be thought of as sexual violence took place at any historical period. In fact, recent historical investigation is demonstrating that sexual violence has long been an opaque matter for criminal justice systems; both symbolically highly transgressive but difficult to read in particular instances. We cannot assume that behaviours which would now count as sexual violence were always considered as such. The injuries that laws on sexual violence were intended to punish have also changed over time. The sexed body, and violence directed towards it, are therefore produced historically at the intersections of discourse, power and pain (Scarry 1985; Bourke 2007).
The chapters in this volume each engage in different ways with Liz Kelly’s feminist concept of sexual violence as a continuum of behaviours that are threatening, degrading, or humiliating within the context of intimate contact (Kelly 1987, 1988). Historically, the criminal justice process since the medieval period, the Early Modern church courts which policed sexual matters as sin rather than as violence, and the medico-legal