In medieval Europe, pets, farm animals, vermin, and insects could be held accountable for damage to persons and property; entitled to due process, they were represented, tried, and punished – sometimes in public executions

Assignment of culpability to animals as a form of abuse: Historical and cultural perspectives. Kenneth J. Weiss, Laurentine Fromm, Joel Glazer. Behavioral Sciences and the Law, https://doi.org/10.1002/bsl.2372

Abstract: How the law regards animals reflects cultural trends that have varied widely from antiquity to the present. This article argues that cultural views of animals have shaped laws, attitudes, and practices worldwide. Whereas ancient (biblical and Mesopotamian) practices turned on economics, medieval concepts of animal culpability aligned with Christian beliefs of the primacy of humans. In medieval Europe, pets, farm animals, vermin, and insects could be held accountable for damage to persons and property. Considered entitled to due process, they were represented, tried, and punished – sometimes in public executions. Centuries of regarding animals as property subordinated to humans gave way to animal cruelty laws. It was not until the 19th century that respect for animal welfare, apart from economics, assumed legal significance. Presently, animals are not considered capable of criminal intent but can be “executed” for dangerousness. However, they may possess legal standing as civil complainants in animal rights cases. Contemporary trends include animal rights activism and courts conferring legal personhood to animals. The discussion concludes that there will be disparate approaches worldwide, based on prevailing views of animal sentience, spiritually based concepts and values, litigation arguing property and environmental law, and economics.


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 1 | INTRODUCTION
Unlawful treatment of animals is not acceptable under contemporary standards, whether in the form of gross
maltreatment, neglect, or inhumane food production. Even so, perpetrators are rarely brought before forensic mental
health professionals, as the acts in question typically do not require an analysis of intent (mens rea; Kukor, Davis, &
DOI: 10.1002/bsl.2372
Behav Sci Law. 2018;1–14. wileyonlinelibrary.com/journal/bsl © 2018 John Wiley & Sons, Ltd. 1
Weiss, 2016). But, turning the kaleidoscope, what do we do when animals damage property or the health and safety
of humans? The obvious, but not too thoughtful, answer is to hold their human owners responsible or summarily –
and lawfully – to terminate the life of the offending animal, without reflecting on its degree of responsibility or
conferring on it due process.
There is a substantial literature documenting how humans have regarded animal rights (Stone, 1972), which has
largely escaped the notice of mental health specialists. This article is an attempt to repair that gap, describing past
cultural beliefs that considered misbehaving animals (and their owners) worthy of adjudication or even criminal
defense, and to note emerging cultural and legal trends in conferring legal status (personhood) on animals. The review
begins with a summary of biblical and polytheistic guidance on human–animal relations before turning to medieval
animal trials. The trials, persisting for centuries, mainly in Europe, raise questions about perceptions of animals' capacity
for “intent” as well as for suffering (sentience). The article recounts the evolution of anti‐cruelty laws and finally
turns to contemporary views of cultural differences in perceptions of humans' relationships with animals and the
nonhuman environment generally.

2 | ANCIENT ORIGINS
There has been intermittent scholarly attention to the adjudication of human–animal conflict in the ancient world, for
example, in the work of Jacob Finkelstein (1973, 1981) on Mesopotamian (ancient Near East) and Judeo‐Christian
cultures. The Western “cosmology” defining relationships between humans and the entirety of the nonhuman environment,
he argues, is established in the biblical Book of Genesis: “The visible universe is for man alone to conquer and
dominate. Man is to rule wisely and justly; he is God's steward, to be sure, but he is to rule and dominate all the same”
(Finkelstein, 1981, p. 8). The Mesopotamian polytheistic culture is not congruent with the Bible's hierarchical concept:
“Far from seeing man as its nucleus or focus, normative Mesopotamian thought perceived the universe as an
ordered entity, a cosmos, entirely apart from the presence of man” (Finkelstein, 1981, p. 12). How did ancient laws
define justice in so‐called goring‐ox cases, in which an animal killed a person?
Both biblical and Mesopotamian texts contain prescriptions for adjudicating wrongs: in Exodus, Chapters 21–23,
and in Mesopotamian laws (the Eshnunna rules and the Code of Hammurapi [Hammurabi]), respectively. Finkelstein
(1981) cautioned that only the biblical phrasing can be construed as “laws” in the modern sense. Both frameworks
describe adjudication of goring‐ox cases, considering the animal's prior behavior and its owner's knowledge of it,
the nature of the victim, and the calculus designed not to unduly burden any party. One difference appears to reside
in the biblical allowance for the death penalty for both ox and owner: “If an ox gores a man or woman to death, the ox
shall be stoned to death, its flesh may not be eaten, but the owner of the ox is innocent, [but if the owner knew of the
ox's violent propensity], [he] shall be put to death as well” (Finkelstein, 1981, p. 20). The Mesopotamian solutions,
emphasizing monetary fines, are closer to tort laws of “economic trespass” (Finkelstein, 1981, p. 24), whereby the animal's
owner would pay restitution to the victim. In neither case does the law impute actual criminal intent to animals
or imply a principle of general deterrence.
Biblical accounts of wrongful death by animal (e.g., in Exodus 21:28) reflect the laws of negligent homicide. Culpability
eliminates the animal and deprives the owner of its value (a deodand, something “given to God,” since the
flesh cannot be consumed) (Finkelstein, 1973). Finkelstein's (1981) analysis of biblical law included a lengthy discussion
of the textual differences between the fate of the ox and that of the owner: whereas the ox is to be “stoned” to
death, the owner is “put to death,” suggesting “that the guilt or ‘crime’ of the ox is of a different order than the crime
of its owner” (p. 26). The ox is not executed for murder. The textual proof resides in that, in biblical murder cases, the
mode of execution was never specified. Yet death of the ox by stoning is carried out by the community, for punishment
of an offense against “the corporate community … [that] compromise[s] its most cherished values to the degree
that … [it] places the community in jeopardy” (p. 27). Stoning, a public spectacle reflecting outrage, served a social
function beyond mere pecuniary restitution: restoration of social order, not general deterrence.

Talmudic passages regard animals as capitally culpable for causing human death, except when the act was
inadvertent (Finkelstein, 1981). Finkelstein explained: “In addition to bespeaking the humane concerns of the
talmudical [sic] authorities, this view attests, perhaps even more eloquently than do those instances in which the
ox was to be condemned to stoning, the anthropocentric perspective upon all manner of experience” (p. 32).
Finkelstein (1981) viewed the Talmudic interpretation as “the earliest unambiguous indication that the actions of
an animal may be judged by human criteria to determine guilt or innocence” (p. 32). This is not a unique example
of attributing conscious agency to animals, but it is puzzling how thoughtful scholars reconciled “humane concerns”
with punishments analogous to human adjudications.
Given what, to the contemporary mind, seems a baffling practice, Berman (1994) recalled that, in ancient Greece,
inanimate objects (e.g., statues and pillars) were put on trial as were animals. Both object and animal transgressors
were treated as felons in Greece, as noted in Plato's Laws (Frazer, 1918, p. 422). In ancient Roman and European
times, when inanimate objects caused death, they were confiscated by the Crown (Finkelstein, 1973, p. 186). As
Finkelstein (1973) explained:
The sovereign was the beneficiary of such forefeitures [sic] because he was the incarnate personification of
the transcendent quality of the community, and by his receipt of the forfeiture, the divine wrath which
might have been provoked by the unrequited death of the human victim was thought presumably to
have been averted (pp. 249–250).
Forfeiture was of economic benefit to the crown, which acquired the value of the forfeited animal. Medieval
European law, by contrast, held the animal responsible, not just using its behavior as a pretext for confiscating
property from citizens: “The ox that gored a person to death was treated as a real felon … and was duly executed”
(Finkelstein, 1973, p. 252). Thus, we see a transition between the biblical negligent homicide and the medieval
felonious homicide analyses. This transition brings into focus, as Evans (1906) discussed, that animals came to be
viewed in early modern Europe as bearing “penal” if not “moral” responsibility for homicidal behavior. Forensic professionals
will recognize how this dichotomy is at odds with modern criminal law, which requires that a culpable act
(actus reus) be coupled with a culpable mind (mens rea). The next section recounts a long historical interlude in which
animals were treated as criminally responsible for acts against humans and property. Farm animals, and even insects,
were regarded as proper subjects for jurisprudence, including execution, apparently without the practice itself constituting
cruelty. The historical background is followed by interpretations of the underlying medieval worldview.

Despite the popular belief that primitive cultures were animistic and assessed no differences between humans and othercreatures, ancient cultures that based beliefs on the hierarchical scheme of the Bible tried and executed animals
(Finkelstein, 1981, p. 48). The idea of placing animals in court, as criminal defendants, may today seemfantastical, or even
comic to a degree (Grayshott, 2013). Yet the practice took place,mainly in Europe, over hundreds of years. Evans (1906),
in his now‐classic work on the subject, cataloged such prosecutions from the years 824 until 1906 (pp. 265–286),
predominantly in the 15th to 17th centuries. A partial list of defendants includes rodents, snakes, insects, pigs, cattle,
oxen, chickens, goats, horses, dogs, and snails. Since Evans's book, the fact of animal trials has been substantiated
(Finkelstein, 1981). Evans' findings were first published in a pair of articles in the Atlantic Monthly in 1884 (Evans,
1884a, 1884b). Domestic farm animals, for example, a pig that ate a human infant, were typically tried in secular court,
whereas pests,e.g., mice that ate grain, were often tried in ecclesiastical tribunals (Berman, 1994). It seemed of no concern
to medieval authorities that animals could be subjected to excommunication without first subscribing to Christian
fellowship. The practice was likely a show of power and an anodyne for the citizenry, that someone was taking action.
Animal trials decreased after the 17th century, but little interpretive scholarship existed until the 19th century,
appearing first in Paris and then in Boston (Berriat‐Saint‐Prix, 1829). Perhaps this was due to incredulity that the

phenomenon existed (Beirne, 2011). Both the French articles and the American re‐publication reflect doubt and confusion;
Berriat‐Saint‐Prix (1829, p. 223) began:
We doubted for a long time whether, in the middle ages, those prosecutions against animals, which have
been mentioned by some ancient chroniclers, were ever in fact instituted. Even the ignorance and
superstition of the times did not seem to us a sufficient reason to render their relations credible. How is
it possible to conceive, especially if it be admitted that brutes are mere machines, that any one should
ever have thought of bringing actions against them, since an action requires two parties, one that
attacks and the other that defends, at least by the intervention of attorneys and proctors, and assuredly
animals cannot have such representatives.
Both Berriat‐Saint‐Prix (1829) and Evans (1906) cited medieval attorney Bartholomew Chassenée (Evans's spelling)
as the principal chronicler or animal trials. Chassenée, the “defender of rats,” made his mark in the eastern French
town of Autun in about 1530. Evans (1906) provided the context:
[Chassenée] made his reputation at the bar as counsel for some rats, which had been put on trial before
the ecclesiastical court of Autun on the charge of having feloniously eaten up and wantonly destroyed
the barley‐crop of that province. On complaint formally presented by the magistracy, the official or
bishop's vicar, who exercised jurisdiction in such cases, cited the culprits to appear on a certain day and
appointed Chassenée to defend them (p. 18).
Evans (1906) lamented that Chassenée's case records have not been preserved, but reassured the reader that the
attorney compiled case summaries in a book published in Latin (Consilium Primum) between 1531 and 1588 (Evans,
1906, p. 21). In Evans's account, full of colorful language and unforgiving about the guilt of the “culprits,” there is
ambiguity as to whether jurisdiction was in civil or ecclesiastical court. Berriat‐Saint‐Prix (1829) recounted that grain
crops had been ravaged between 1522 and 1530 causing famine. When ordinary extermination was ineffective, the
religious court was asked to excommunicate the rodents, but this, too, failed. The matter reverted to civil authorities,
whereby the prosecutor drew up a bill summoning the rats. When the rats failed to appear, a judgment was brought
against them, but, before final judgment could be brought, “[t]he official, thinking that the accused ought at least to
be defended, appointed Chassenée as their advocate” (Berriat‐Saint‐Prix, 1829, p. 224). One could cite this as an
early iteration of animal advocacy, though the irony seems to have been lost amid the colorful accounts, mostly
ending in ritual slaughter.
Chassenée employed a series of stall tactics (“dilatory exceptions”): first, that a single summons was inadequate
to inform rats dispersed over many villages. Accordingly, Chassenée had a second summons distributed in a public
location in each parish. When this failed to produce the vermin, he argued that the journey was long and dangerous
(the rats could be preyed upon by cats). When that delay was exhausted, he used an emotional appeal: “What can be
more unjust than these general proscriptions, which overwhelm whole families in one common ruin, which visit the
crime of parents on the children, which destroy indiscriminately those whom tender years or infirmity render equally
incapable of offending?” (Berriat‐Saint‐Prix, 1829, p. 224).
Ecclesiastical proceedings used threats of excommunication against pests. In 1585, great rainfall produced a
plague of caterpillars in Valence, France: “The walls, the windows, and the chimneys of the houses were covered
with them, even in the cities: it was a lively and hideous representation of the plague of Egypt by locusts”
(Berriat‐Saint‐Prix, 1829, p. 225). The grand vicar accused the caterpillars of this affront and appointed a
defender. The prosecution won and the pests were sentenced to quit the diocese. When the caterpillars did
not obey, jurists and theologians consulted, agreeing that excommunication and exile were not indicated; only
strong words, prayer, and holy water. Berriat‐Saint‐Prix's (1829) source noted: “The life of these animals is short,
and these ceremonies having continued several months, received the credit of having miraculously exterminated
them” (p. 225).

A sow was accused of blasphemy in 1394, in Mortaign, France (Bondeson, 1999). It had roamed into a churchand eaten a wafer from the floor. This action led to a legal‐theological crisis. Bondeson (1999) explained:
The priests debated whether this act had transubstantiated the sow's flesh into that of Christ: should it be
slaughtered or revered, and should the wafer be honored even inside the pig's stomach? Finally, they
decided to execute the pig: there was general relief among the curés that when no trace of the wafer
was found within the swine's intestinal canal; in that case, they would have had to eat it to show the
Savior due respect (pp. 140–141).
The early medieval trials took place in or near Switzerland, and later in other European countries, Canada, and
Brazil (Cohen, 1986); they were uncommon in Britain (Beirne, 2011). For wild animals, “the penalty they suffered
was banishment or death by exorcism and excommunication. Nor was that penalty by any means a light one, if it
be true that St Patrick exorcized the reptiles of Ireland into the sea or turned them into stones, and that St Bernard,
by excommunicating the flies that buzzed about him, laid them all out dead on the floor of the church” (Frazer, 1918,
p. 424). One reason ecclesiastical courts handled vermin cases was convenience. Frazer (1918) explained:
It was physically impossible for a common executioner, however zealous, active and robust, to hang,
decapitate, or otherwise execute all the rats, mice, ants, flies, mosquitoes, caterpillars, and other vermin of
a whole district; but what is impossible with man is possible and indeed easy with God … In [tame animal]
cases … justice took its usual course; there was no difficulty at all in arresting the criminals and in
bringing them, after a fair trial, to the gallows, the block, or the stake. That is why in those days vermin
enjoyed the benefit of clergy, while tame animals had to submit to all the rigour of the secular arm (p. 438).
Cohen (1986) disagreed with a sharp distinction between civil and ecclesiastical jurisdictions, suggesting that
church‐based remedies were employed when civil remedies failed.
In a Burgundian town near Switzerland, in 1457, a sow, along with her six piglets, were charged with murdering
and partially consuming a 5‐year‐old child (Chambers, 1883; Cohen, 1986). All seven were imprisoned and, a month
later, tried before a judge. In court were a lawyer, two prosecutors, and many witnesses. The owner (and nominal
defendant) was charged only with negligence (Cohen, 1986). Chambers (1883) included a drawing (Figure 1) with
the following account:
The sow was found guilty and condemned to death; but the pigs were acquitted on account of their youth,
the bad example of their mother, and the absence of direct proof as to their having been concerned in the
eating of the child (pp. 128–129).
The owner did not dispute the execution of the sow, for which a professional hangman was engaged. However, he
would not vouch for the piglets' future behavior, and they were forfeited to “the local lord's justice” (Cohen, 1986, p.
11). What is striking about these proceedings is their “painstaking insistence upon the observance of legal custom
and proper judicial procedure” (Cohen, 1986, p. 11), including paying lawyers and executioners.
Whereas it is straightforward to regard the execution of a sow, for tearing the face off a child, as standard
retributive justice, other transgressions involved beliefs in witchcraft and Satan. An example of this theme is the
oft‐repeated story of the cock that laid an egg, in Bâle (Basel), Switzerland, in 1474 (Chambers, 1883). Chambers
(1883) laid out the case:
The counsel for the prosecution proved that cock's eggs were of priceless value for mixing in certain
magical preparations; that a sorcerer would rather possess a cock's egg than be master of the
philosopher's stone; and that in heathen lands Satan employs witches to hatch such eggs, from which
proceed animals most injurious to Christians (p. 129).
Defense counsel, admitting the act in question, argued that the cock harmed no one and that, since the act was
involuntary, it was not culpable. When counsel challenged the prosecutor to find a precedent for Satan making a deal
with an animal, the prosecutor cited the tale of Jesus and the Gadarene swine, proving that the devil could enteranimals (Chambers, 1883, p. 129). Impressed, the court sentenced the cock to death. The bird was executed as a
sorcerer: burned at the stake along with the egg “with all the solemnity of a regular execution” (Frazer, 1918,
pp. 441–442).
Animals could also serve as witnesses in criminal cases, as Chambers (1883) reported on another Swiss case, possibly
from the 19th century. If a homeowner killed an intruder, there could be a lingering question as to whether the
homeowner enticed the victim and later claimed a burglary attempt. Chambers (1883) explained the solution:
So when a person was killed under such circumstances, the solitary householder was not held innocent,
unless he produced a dog, a cat, or a cock that had been an inmate of the house, and witnessed the
death of the person killed. The owner of the house was compelled to make his declaration of innocence
on oath before one of those animals, and if it did not contradict him, he was considered guiltless; the
law taking for granted, that the Deity would cause a miraculous manifestation, by a dumb animal,
rather than allow a murderer to escape from justice (p. 129).
These permutations of “justice” call for explanations: Did medieval citizens perceive animal trials purely to preserve
the dignity of nonhumans, and was any consideration given to the possibility that the events themselves were
cruel? Humphrey (2013), puzzled by medieval animal trials, listed several possibilities for the human mentality behind
them: mere cruelty (he claimed no evidence for it); primitive mistakes (lack moral development); elimination of social
danger (harm prevention); deterrence; and education (pp. 30–40). There was also a social element involved in the
public events. The execution of a sow in Falaise, in 1386, has been recorded as an example of a public spectacle
(Evans, 1906; Friedland, 2003). The animal had been found guilty of killing a child; the victim was wounded in the
face and arms. Friedland (2003) regarded the execution as a symbolic re‐enactment of a crime:
As punishment it was sentenced to be maimed in the head and forelegs prior to hanging. We might assume
this a simple case of an eye for an eye, rather than an attempt to re‐enact the crime, but several details
FIGURE 1 Trial of a sow and pigs at Lavegny (Chambers, 1883, p 128)
suggest something else: The executioner cut off the sow's snout and affixed in its place the mask of ahuman face; moreover, the sow was dressed in human clothing‐a jacket, breeches, haut‐de‐chausses
(trunk hose worn by boys and men) and gloves (p. 313).
Friedland (2003) suggested that such a ritual not only eliminated the offender but re‐enacted the offense
symbolically to remove the crime. Evans (1906), on the other hand, saw the execution as retaliation (lex talionis).
Having said that, he described the executioner, who was paid and supplied with a new pair of gloves, as “no common
pig‐killer, but a public functionary, a ‘master of high works’” (p. 140). Metaphorically, Evans concluded, the
gloves indicated the executioner's ability to leave the situation with clean hands, guilt‐free, having duly fulfilled his
public role.
Cohen (1986) offered a straightforward explanation for the meaning of medieval animal trials, used in 16th‐century
arguments: that, following Christian teachings, God created humans to have jurisdiction over animals:
[P]laintiffs argued that animals existed solely for the utility of man and should be punished if they acted
contrary to his interests, while the defence countered that God had granted animals the enjoyment of
nature even before the very creation of man … A court that saw itself as possessing the God‐given right
to try all creatures, human and otherwise, had to grant all of them justice (p. 14).
Thus, it can be seen that in the medieval animal trial, citizens debated the question of the relationship of the human
and animal worlds. With humans regarding themselves to be atop the power pyramid, Judeo‐Christian concepts provided
a rationale for ritualized subordination of the rest of the tangible universe. In Cohen's (1986) analysis, it is not
possible to reconcile the civil and ecclesiastical courts existing under a single anthropomorphic view of the world. She
also faulted Finkelstein (1981) for locating medieval animal trials exclusively within the Judeo‐Christian tradition,
citing Western thought, e.g., in Plato's writings: “Finkelstein's explanation fits the context of antiquity, not of the
middle ages” (Cohen, 1986, p. 18).
If animals can be murderers, criminal defendants, and witnesses, what can be inferred about the medieval view of
their mental capacities? It may seem ironic, for example, that the owner of a murderous sow was charged only with
negligence while the porcine defendant was ascribed intent and faced capital sentencing. Srivastava (2007) reflected
on the possible meaning:
I view the animal trials as remarkable not so much because they rendered justiciable a limited range of
delinquent animal conduct (for example, domestic animals were not put on trial for killing each other;
nor were wild animals put on trial for killing humans), but because they did so by attributing partial
legal personhood to those animals (p. 136).
Indeed, as Srivastava (2007) suggested, review of medieval animal trials and their cultural context reveals attitudes
and beliefs which in some ways presaged current trends toward recognition of animal “personhood” in the
law, as well as current controversies in physiologic determinism and assignment of criminal responsibility for humans
(Morse, 2011). As Evans (1906) noted,
A point of practical importance … is relation of moral to penal responsibility. If there is not freedom
of the will and the commission of crime is the necessary result of physiologic idiosyncrasies … over
which the individual has no control … then he is certainly not morally responsible for his conduct.
But is he on this account to be exempted from punishment? [Or is it the case that] punishment
is proper and imperative so far as it is essential to the protection and preservation of society[?]
(p. 210).
These considerations have continued to vex philosophers and jurists. The next section reviews cross‐cultural
variations in regarding the human–animal relations through a system of laws. The significance of the variability is that
culture and spiritual beliefs have an impact on legal practices, resulting in diverse outcomes.

4 | WORLD CULTURESStudying legal customs across time and cultures presents serious methodological issues (Cohen, 1986). Law and custom
exist side by side, but, as Cohen (1986) noted, “Society may create custom, but legislation was the ruler's province”
(p. 7). The culpability of animals has been regarded seriously worldwide, despite differences in approach. In Folk‐Lore in
the Old Testament, Frazer (1918) surveyed approaches to adjudicating offending objects and animals. Citing the goringox
passages in Exodus and the admonition to Noah in Genesis (“Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be
shed”), Frazier noted that blood‐revenge is common among “savage tribes” (p. 415). In Chittagong, India, if a tiger kills a
villager, the entire tribe pursues it, kills it, and eats it. In Indonesia, Frazer (1918) reported, animals and humans differ
only externally but “the inmost nature of the animal is the same as that of a man” (p. 418). Accordingly, killing can take
place on a one‐for‐one basis. Retributive justice can also be found in ancient Persia: “[If] the mad dog, or the dog that
bites without barking, smite a sheep or wound a man, the dog shall pay for it as for wilful murder” (Frazer, 1918, p. 419).
Frazer (1918) inferred, from his research, that primitive cultures, through personification, lost sight of the distinctions
between humans and animals and between humans and objects. He concluded:
In that hazy state of the human mind it was easy and almost inevitable to confound the motives which
actuate a rational man with the impulses which direct a beast, and even with the forces which propel a
stone or a tree in falling. It was in some such mental confusion that savages took deliberate vengeance
on animals and things that had hurt or offended them; and the intellectual fog in which such actions
were possible still obscured the eyes of the primitive legislators who, in various ages and countries, have
consecrated the same barbarous system of retaliation under the solemn forms of law and justice (p. 445).
Western European life was dominated by the Roman Catholic Church in the Medieval Era: “Above all, the Church
had unique access to God and so to eternal life” (Bragg, 2003, p. 100). The rule of law was also a potent cultural influence.
These two institutions were not completely separate, although each had its own bureaucracy and enforcement
system. It is understandable that both proceedings reflected the belief that animals were God's creatures, as much as
humans. Since, as the Bible renders it, animals were created before humans, they were just as deserving of justice.
Both types of proceedings fulfilled social as well as “punitive” purposes. The public spectacle of hanging the pig that
killed demonstrated that the perpetratorwas destroyed, and that the arm of the lawwas long. Ecclesiastical trials were scrupulously
fair, illuminating God'smercy and justice. The excommunication and exile of pests demonstrated that the power of
the Church was great, especially in that it implemented the will of God. If the sentence of the Church was not effective, it
demonstrated that the people were sinful, and therefore that God's plague of pests would continue to afflict them.
The prominent roles of each of these institutions in the trials demonstrate the power of each of them in medieval
society, in accord with the observation of Alexis de Tocqueville (1904): “He who punishes infractions of the law is
therefore the real master of society” (p. 303). In both secular and ecclesiastical trials, the ritual and seriousness of
the proceedings represented the majesty and power of the law and the Church. As the power of faith‐based enforcement
receded, civil legislation brought human–animal relations to a new level: anti‐cruelty laws.

5 | ANIMAL CRUELTY LAWS
Generally, as a population's ethics and values change, the legislation governing the population changes accordingly.
The development of animal welfare and animal rights laws reflects the changing attitude toward animals since the
19th century. Merz‐Perez and Heide (2004) pointed out that, in 18th‐century Britain, Reverend Humphrey Primatt
called for compassion for animals; his plea went unheeded. The first serious attempts to enact animal welfare laws
began in England in 1809. On 15 May 1809, Lord Erskine introduced before Parliament a bill for the protection of
animals. In support of his bill, Lord Erskine stated, “They [animals] are created, indeed, for our use, but not for our
abuse” (Favre & Tsang, 1993, p. 4). Accordingly, the bill was based on a theory of ownership over animals and

protection of personal property, rather than on an animal's ability to feel pain. Ultimately the bill failed, but the anticruelty
movement gained momentum.
Richard Martin introduced a bill before Parliament on 10 June 1822, known as “Dick Martin's Act … An Act to
Prevent the Cruel and Improper Treatment of Cattle” (Favre & Tsang, 1993, p. 4).

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