Susan Morrison: Poor little rich girls whose unions were made in hell

Marriage looks pretty disposable these days, especially when confronted with celebrities who seem to change spouses with the seasons.

There's a rose-tinted view of by-gone long-lived unions. It's true that fewer people got divorced in the past, but the alternative to the decree nisi could be horrific, and they didn't always live happily ever after.

Over the course of three programmes for BBC Radio Scotland, Louise Yeoman and I explored the history of unhappy marriage and domestic violence in a series called Disposable Brides.

In the past in Scotland, marriage wasn't so much a word as a sentence for some women. If it didn't work out, well, divorce was difficult, even for a man, so it was easier to just remove a bothersome wife. Lady Rachel Grange fell out with a husband who had powerful friends and was legally kidnapped from Edinburgh in 1732 and dispatched to St Kilda. She died on Skye in 1745.

Who needed a pre-nup? All her money went straight to him the minute she married. Simples. And cruel. Rich women were walking fortunes. Lady Amelia Murray was left widowed and wealthy in 1696. She had money, estate titles and castles. Unfortunately, that's exactly what her cousin, Simon Fraser, wanted. So he forcibly married her. Her violent bridegroom brought in a bagpiper to drown her screams during the "ceremony".

A rich little heiress was catnip for a man on the make in society. Viscount Dundas, still presiding over Charlotte Square, was an ambitious lawyer in the early 18th century. He was on his way to becoming sort of a CEO for Scotland, but the man needed money. Fortunately, Elizabeth Rannie was loaded. Her father had made a fortune trading in the Indies, and then died.

She was 15 years old when she married Henry Dundas and brought with her a fortune of 10,000. She produced four children and lived quietly in Melville Castle. He stayed up in Edinburgh and had what we would call an active social life.

Everything ran along until Elizabeth got romantic, which was possibly the worst thing that could happen to an 18th century lady of quality. His name was Colonel Fawkner. They began to take walks in the woods. They might have remained pining for each over French novels, had Elizabeth not gone to Musselburgh to attend a ball. She stayed with a family called the Colts, in beautiful Inveresk House, which is still there today. There, after the ball was over, Elizabeth Rannie and her gallant soldier shared a night of passion.

Unfortunately, her soldier boy was not in the least subtle, given to thundering about the house in his nightshirt, so the Colts had a fairly good idea what was going on, and the minute Elizabeth knew that they knew, she panicked and blurted the whole thing out to Henry Dundas.

She was divorced within a month and shipped out. In the second Disposable Brides, we trace her shocking fall from leisured lady to bag lady, reduced to sending begging letters for what was in effect her own money.

Poor women fared no better. Money might not be the issue, but violence was.

Scotland was, and still is, a violent society. In fact, it wasn't just the men getting tore in about the women. In the third programme, we found out that some of Scotland's women gave as good as they got. It won't surprise you, though, to know that women found lifting their fists received far worse punishments in the courts than their men. A battered woman found little help from a society that automatically blamed her for bringing the beating on herself.

Violence still scars Scotland, but the good news is that we're losing our tolerance for the beaters. Strathclyde Police recently revealed that domestic abuse figures in Glasgow "took a hike" following Old Firm games. At a summit in March following a particularly testy match, Alex Salmond proposed that men convicted of domestic violence offences should be banned from future fixtures.

Such a thing would have been unthinkable only a few decades ago. For centuries domestic violence has remained exactly that - domestic. Now here's the First Minister suggesting that the men who take out a one-nil defeat on their partners should be held accountable, even on the terraces.

We're also far more aware that domestic abuse is not just a problem for women. Men can be victims, too, and work is ongoing to get help, advice and support to those men living with violent or controlling partners.

We've not solved the problem of domestic abuse yet, but at least we don't treat it as the victims' fault any more.

The second part of Disposable Brides is on BBC Radio Scotland at 2.05pm today and afterwards will be available on BBC iPlayer.