In historical films and series, you’ve probably noticed the rather extravagant haircuts of medieval Catholic monks. The top of their heads was shaved, with a ring of hair around it. This was called a “tonsure.”
The expression “to take the tonsure” comes from the practice of shaving this part of the head.
It’s unclear when monks began this tradition, but it’s evidently ancient, possibly dating back to the 2nd, 3rd, or perhaps the 5th century AD. Historian Daniel McCarthy believes the tonsure originally symbolized the crown of thorns worn by Christ.
Another theory is that the hairstyle was chosen by the clergy due to the Roman Empire’s custom of shaving the heads of slaves. Monks referred to themselves as “slaves of Christ.” Alternatively, the tonsure might have been linked to a commandment in the Torah forbidding shaving the sides of the head—a rule that could have subtly transitioned from Judaism to Christianity.
Regardless of its origin, monks wore the tonsure for about 1,500 years, and it wasn’t until 1972 that Pope Paul VI declared it unnecessary. His reasons were twofold. First, it was a “meaningless ceremony,” and second, having to walk around with a shaved crown discouraged some who were overly attached to their hair from dedicating themselves to God.
Ergonomic Issues
Monks were always busy with various tasks, but their most demanding job was copying books. The printing press hadn’t been invented yet, so until the 13th century, manuscripts had to be copied by hand.
This work took place in special rooms in monasteries called scriptoriums. However, the conditions were far from ideal. Initially, monks copied books by dictation, holding the manuscripts on their laps because tables weren’t introduced until the 7th century.
Only in the most prestigious monasteries, like St. Gall Abbey, were there spacious, well-lit scriptoriums with comfortable workstations, a lectern for the abbot to dictate from, and large windows for natural light.
Most monks had to make do with gloomy cells, working alone for years.
For example, Eadfrith, the Bishop of Lindisfarne, wrote the Lindisfarne Gospels in solitude in a shack on St. Cuthbert’s Island, using seashells as inkwells.
Scribes often had to lick their brushes to keep them sharp, resulting in fragments of paint getting stuck in their teeth.
It’s no wonder monks grumbled about their tough life. The books they copied were often filled with marginalia—notes and drawings in the margins.
These texts were full of complaints from tired monks: “Oh, my hand hurts so much!” “I’m so cold, my fingers are trembling with chill,” “When will I finally finish this chapter?” “Thank goodness it’s almost night, and I can rest.”
“Those who don’t know how to write think it’s easy work, but although these fingers hold only a quill, the whole body grows weary.”
Ferreol, Bishop of Uzès
There are also more poetic marginalia. For instance: “Writing is incredibly tedious. It bends your back, dims your sight, and twists your stomach and sides.” Or: “As a sailor rejoices in reaching harbor, so does a scribe rejoice at the last line.”
At the end of their work, a scribe might jot down something like, “Finally, I’ve written it all: for Christ’s sake, pour me a drink,” or even, “My right hand has recovered from the pain. If only a beautiful maiden were given to scribes as a reward!”
Cats, Demons, and Other Distractions
As you might imagine, it was easy to make mistakes in such conditions. Writing in the margins was one thing—it was allowed. But making errors in the text was quite another. Every correctly written letter atoned for a sin, while every mistake added to it.
Abbots intimidated their scribes, warning them that any error brought them closer to a life sentence in hell. The scribes excused themselves by saying demons interfered with their work.
Medieval monk-scribes believed in a special demon named Titivillus. As theologian John of Galensis wrote in 1285, Titivillus observed scribes and “collected into his sack a thousand errors made by monks every day.”
This demon collected mistakes, errors, corrections, and even poorly recited Psalms. From these “stolen from God” fragments, the malicious demon compiled accusations against Church members, which he would present at the Last Judgment, condemning the negligent monks to eternal damnation. Naturally, the monks were deeply anxious about this.
Besides demons, physical creatures also caused distractions. For example, a cat walked across a medieval manuscript at the Dubrovnik State Archives after stepping in an inkwell. A bird accidentally flying into the scriptorium could also leave its four-toed imprint on a precious folio.
Book production was so laborious that it usually took a scribe a year to produce a standard Bible. You can imagine how monks felt when their work was damaged by a cat’s antics.
Exorcism Difficulties
Painting in the Valencia Cathedral by Francisco Goya of Saint Francis Borgia performing an exorcism, c. 1788 Image: Wikimedia Commons
And now, back to demons. In the Middle Ages, demons were believed to be the cause of many misfortunes. So, when someone began having seizures, cursing, fighting, or showing other signs of demonic possession, priests—not doctors—were called for help. The priests would then battle the demonic entity.
The most common methods of exorcism were the cross, holy water, prayer, and, less often, the laying on of hands. These usually sufficed, but sometimes the devil resisted, and the clergy resorted to more extreme measures.
The afflicted might be severely beaten or even drowned in cold water—for their own good, of course.
Naturally, the unfortunate soul didn’t feel anything because the demon controlled the body. The idea was that inflicting pain on the devil would cause him to flee the tormented body. The beatings were accompanied by insults, as demons were prideful creatures and could not endure rudeness.
Sometimes, though, violence didn’t help. For instance, St. Norbert of Xanten beat a possessed man with a whip, but the demon refused to leave—apparently, he was used to it. He only cried out, “Your whip doesn’t hurt me, your threats don’t scare me, death doesn’t torment me!” What could be done with such a case was unclear. Fortunately, sprinkling the poor man with consecrated salt eventually worked.
At times, demons would slip up, practically doing the exorcist’s job for them. In a 12th-century treatise, a case is described where monks were fighting a demon possessing someone, but it wouldn’t leave and mocked them. The exorcists were desperate when the demon blurted out, “You’re wasting your time. Only Erminold can expel me, and even then, it’s doubtful.”
The monks searched for someone named Erminold, found a saint by that name, and brought him to the demon. The latter confirmed: “Yes, that’s the one I was talking about.” A bit naive for a servant of hell, wouldn’t you say?
Finally, some devilish creatures would only leave the possessed if they were offered a relic, such as a hair from a saint’s beard.
Naturally, finding such a rare item was often a challenge. But sometimes, they were lucky.
In a 12th-century report by a monk from Soissons, one particularly stubborn demon demanded nothing less than the tooth of Christ the Savior before he would agree to be exorcised.
They searched for the tooth and couldn’t find it. They had to ask the demon again, and it explained that the relic was in the Church of St. Medard. They sent someone there, retrieved the item, and the demon, after some time, finally left the possessed.
But more than demons, monks were irritated by imposters who faked possession just to get attention or avoid punishment for their crimes, as the responsibility was then placed on the demon.
These frauds were easy to spot: as soon as they were doused with holy water and whipped as expected, they immediately stopped their antics. Thomas of Celano described how one day St. Francis began an exorcism, and the possessed person instantly recovered. The exorcist immediately realized it was a fraud and, “feeling deceived, quickly left the town in shame.”
Vikings and Knights Raiding Monasteries
The most frequent attackers of medieval monasteries were the wild Vikings, so often that the monks had a special prayer for protection from the northerners: “Our Holy Lord, protect us from the savage people of the Norwegians.”
There is another version circulating online: “Save us, God, from the Norman sword! Save us, God, from the Magyar arrow!”, but researchers D’Hanen and Magnusson believe this to be a modern invention with no medieval origin.
Unsurprisingly, many monasteries fortified themselves like true fortresses.
However, it wasn’t just Vikings who looted abbeys and enslaved their inhabitants. Fellow knights, who were supposed to protect monks, often did the same.
For example, once John FitzAlan, the first Baron Arundel, was marching with his troops to aid the Duke of Brittany. However, a strong wind struck, and the soldiers decided to wait out the storm in a nearby monastery in Southampton.
Unfortunately, this monastery happened to be a convent. The knights couldn’t resist: they looted everything valuable and took the nuns with them as concubines.
Fortunately, the abbess managed to excommunicate the baron from the church. As Arundel tried to cross the English Channel, 25 of his ships were wrecked by a storm. He ordered the captives to be thrown overboard to lighten the ship, but it didn’t help. The knight, along with his squires and most of his troops, drowned.
Other Monks
It wasn’t just Vikings or rogue knights who robbed monks. Sometimes their superiors did too. In 1190, Bishop Hugh of Lincoln visited the abbey in Fécamp to venerate the relics there. Flattered by his attention, the monks showed him their greatest treasure—the hand of Mary Magdalene.
Without hesitation, Hugh bit off a piece of the relic in front of the shocked monks, justifying it by saying, “We receive the body and blood of Christ with our teeth in the Eucharist.”
In the end, Hugh was canonized because he was truly a holy man.
As mentioned earlier, books were extremely valuable at the time—one could easily be worth as much as a decent house. Many monasteries survived by selling copied manuscripts.
However, they had to lend books to their peers and superiors for free, often for long periods—a year, five years, or even ten or twenty years. Sometimes, the books were simply never returned.
There’s a record of an abbot borrowing a manuscript from a neighboring monastery, only for it to disappear. The priest explained his reluctance to return it by saying, “The book is so large that it cannot be hidden in a sleeve or bag… Evil people would inevitably be attracted to its beauty.”
How the abbot managed to remove the manuscript in the first place remains unclear, but he couldn’t bring it back.
Kissing the Floor and Other Practices
Many monastic orders, especially the Benedictines, believed that the mere thought of sin was enough to commit it. Therefore, one must start repenting immediately.
Thus, whenever young novices saw the abbot frown, they would instantly throw themselves at his feet. Much like in the movie The Sound of Music, where the main character Maria kissed the floor in front of Sister Bertha to save them both time without waiting for orders.
However, the floor was not the most unpleasant thing the monks had to kiss.
When travelers visited the monastery, monks were required to greet them “with heads bowed or lying prostrate on the ground.” They would wash the guests’ hands and feet, greet them with brotherly kisses on the lips, and share their meals.
However, Saint Benedict recommended doing this only after a joint prayer to avoid “the devil’s tricks,” ensuring that the visitors could be trusted. After all, they might be Vikings.
Finally, on Maundy Thursday during Holy Week, monks would bring the poor from surrounding villages into the monastery and humbly wash and kiss their feet.
Digestive Problems
A drunken monk. Painting by Giuseppe Marastoni, XIX century. Image: Public Domain
The diet in monasteries varied according to their rules, but in general, medieval monks were not overly concerned with healthy eating.
Their standard diet consisted of sourdough white bread, ale seasoned with herbs, and eels. Eels were highly valued because they could be eaten during fasting, and unlike meat, they were thought not to incite lust.
In fact, peasants even paid rent with eels until the 16th century, and an annual turnover of 540,000 eels is recorded in the *Domesday Book*.
Another favorite was beaver tail, which was considered a fish due to its scaly appearance. The rest of the beaver had to be discarded or sold to perfumers for musk.
Coastal monasteries shamelessly hunted dolphins as well. Science had not yet discovered that they were mammals.
However, in 1336, Pope Benedict XII decreed that while mortifying the flesh during fasting was good, it was fine to indulge outside of fasting periods. He permitted the consumption of “all four-legged animals.”
As a result, monks began to eat lamb, beef, pork, venison, rabbits, hares, chicken, and various game alongside bread, fish, seafood, grains, vegetables, fruits, eggs, cheese, wine, and ale.
At that time, they had not yet invented eating small meals frequently, and there was no time left for prayer, so meals were rare but abundant. Typically, they ate once a day in winter and twice in summer.
This unbalanced and calorie-rich diet led to widespread digestive problems, sometimes quite serious. For example, in Muchelney Abbey in Somerset, they had to build a separate two-story building—a latrine for forty people—to accommodate all the sufferers.
Additionally, monks collected various remedies to help themselves and their brethren. In Muchelney, a laxative recipe using different fruit extracts has survived. There were also suggestions like, “Take a small piece of soap, press it, and insert it rectally, then lie down on the bed.”
Monasteries even had a special position—the circator—a person who patrolled the monastery at night to ensure order and make sure the novices were not engaging in ungodly activities. One of his unofficial duties was to discreetly wake monks who had fallen asleep in the latrine.
“God’s Pearls”
There is a common misconception on the internet that people in the Middle Ages did not wash at all. This is not true.
Of course, regular baths were only taken by the nobility, who could afford to pay for fuel to heat water—after all, swimming in freezing well water wasn’t exactly an option. However, even commoners almost universally washed their hands and faces in the morning.
Monks had varying hygiene practices depending on the specific rules of their monasteries.
In many wealthy abbeys with less strict regulations, there were large lavatories—rooms with running water. Before meals, monks were required to wash their hands. These rooms also had sharpening stones because the men of God (like everyone in the Middle Ages) always carried knives with them. These knives replaced all other eating utensils—forks were not in use then. Towels were changed twice a week in the bathhouses.
However, in other monasteries, washing was much rarer. For example, it is known that monks at Westminster Abbey were required to take a bath four times a year: at Christmas, Easter, the end of June, and the end of September.
Some especially devout brothers neglected washing altogether, believing that by doing so, they mortified their flesh and thus aided the salvation of their immortal souls. They also thought this helped resist devilish lust and idleness and allowed them to imitate the holy saints.
As a result, many medieval doctors, including John Gaddesden and Bernard Gordon, noted the clergy’s susceptibility to parasites.
The aroma coming from an unwashed ascetic was called the “odor of sanctity,” and lice were referred to as “God’s pearls.”
Even famous individuals, such as Bishop Thomas de Cantilupe of Hereford, Dominican theologian Henry Suso, or Archbishop Thomas Becket of Canterbury, suffered from these parasites. According to contemporaries, lice swarmed on Becket’s woolen clothing both inside and out, and Cantilupe had them “removed by the handful.”
Women were no better off, which was reflected in the literature of the time. In the 12th-century poem *Planctus Monialis*, a young nun pleads with a young man to love her and complains about her hardships in the convent: “My shirt is dirty, my underwear is not fresh, made of coarse threads… my delicate hair smells of filth, and I endure lice that scratch my skin.”
However, the steadfast faithful did not complain, as parasites were considered a form of martyrdom.
There is an opinion that the Dark Ages gave humanity nothing new and were a period of stagnation and religious hysteria. But that’s not true. During those difficult times, there were certainly strange and bizarre events, but people also accomplished good things.
Glasses
Yes, it was in Medieval Europe—most likely in Pisa in 1284—that glasses were invented, helping people with weak vision to read.
Before that, a Berber astronomer, chemist, and engineer named Abbas ibn Firnas in the 9th century invented the “reading stone”—a polished piece of quartz that had to be moved across the pages of a book to magnify the letters. But it took another 300 years for Italians to come up with the idea of shaping such a stone into lenses and placing them in a frame. Allegedly, Alessandro di Spina from Florence invented glasses.
Initially, they were attached to the nose like a clip and were used only for correcting farsightedness. It wasn’t until the middle of the 15th century that they invented side pieces (temples) and lenses for nearsighted people.
Mechanical Clocks
Mechanical clocks appeared in Europe between 1280 and 1320. Of course, this wasn’t the first timekeeping device ever—the ancient Greeks and Chinese had made water clocks long before.
But the invention of the escapement mechanism with a toothed wheel, likely in Italy, allowed for the creation of fully mechanical clocks that operated without any liquid, relying instead on a weight descending on a rope. Finally, it became possible to make chronographs that didn’t take up an entire room or freeze in winter.
This can be compared to the shift from massive vacuum-tube computers with punch cards to devices that fit on a desk.
Watchmaking guilds in medieval Europe were highly respected, and their members crafted incredibly complex and finely made mechanisms. Often, clocks—especially large, tower clocks—not only measured time but also tracked the movement of celestial bodies.
This was important because, according to medieval doctors, the planets predicted the future. For example, if Jupiter entered the house of Scorpio without an invitation, a plague would break out. You needed to be prepared for such events.
Flying Buttresses
Flying buttresses support the main vault of St. Mary’s Church, in Lübeck, Germany. Image: Andreas Praefcke, CC BY 3.0
Flying buttresses are clever architectural supports that allow the weight of large building walls to be distributed, making them more stable.
These structures were invented in the 12th century, and they made the so-called Gothic architectural style possible. You know, all those huge cathedrals with statues and towers, like Notre Dame de Paris. Building them without flying buttresses would have been impossible—the buildings would have collapsed under their own weight. Structural mechanics at work.
Before this, truly massive architectural monuments had to be built on the principle of the Egyptian pyramids—with a wide base and a small top. But flying buttresses transformed them from gray, dull piles of stone into majestic works of art.
Tower Mills
Windmill de Dellen in New Scheemda
The idea of using wind to grind grain, pump water, and lift loads wasn’t new. The first windmills were invented in Eastern Persia in the 9th century, and their blades were horizontally placed.
But in the 13th century, Europeans invented the tower mill, which had a rotating roof and could carry really large sails. It was much, much more efficient than the Persians’ earlier inventions.
For almost 600 years, the tower mill was the primary energy source in Europe.
These structures were highly valuable in the Middle Ages, and building them was costly. As a result, they were often attached to castles or repurposed from existing watchtowers. The mill thus became not only a marvel of engineering but also a fortress capable of withstanding a siege.
Enemies at the gates? Take down the sails so they don’t get damaged by arrows, and with a single elegant move, the structure transforms into a battle-ready bastion.
Printing Press
A replica of Johannes Gutenberg’s printing press at the Featherbed Alley Printshop Museum, Bermuda.
What do you think wine and books have in common? Well, alcohol not only provided inspiration to some writers, but it also enabled their work to become widely distributed.
The thing is, a German engineer and engraver named Johannes Gutenberg, in the mid-1440s, looked at a wine press used to crush grapes for alcohol, thought about it, and decided to use a similar machine to print books.
The mechanism worked like this: you assemble text from lead letters, like building blocks. Attach them to a plate, fix the plate to the press, apply ink, and press page after page until you’ve produced the desired number of copies.
By the way, a couple of centuries before that, in 1282, Europe invented factories powered by water and wind, which allowed for the mass production of quality paper. Before this, the Chinese and Muslims produced it exclusively by hand, making the material too expensive.
Printing and cheap paper triggered a revolution in European education, significantly increasing literacy rates.
And yes, because books became more accessible, public libraries appeared in medieval Europe. The first was founded in 1452 by Malatesta Novello, ruler of the Italian city of Cesena.
Typically, a young man and a woman end up in bed together for intimate purposes. At least, that’s what modern people think. But in the Middle Ages, there were different views on this.
Historical records show that in Germany, Switzerland, Wales, and Scandinavia of that time, the sexuality of teenagers was restricted—strict morals, Christian values, no physical relations before marriage. Hence, courtship customs were quite strange.
Young men would lie in bed with their loved ones without undressing. They would always place a thick wooden board in the middle of the bed to maintain proper boundaries of decency. And they would sleep like that all night.
This custom was in practice up until the 17th century. It allowed a young man to subtly hint to a girl that he cared about her, but he wanted everything to be official and proper. Only after the bride’s parents approved the courtship could a marriage be arranged, and physical love made possible. Until then, it was only with clothes on and with a board in between.
Shared Beds for Kings
Dream of the Magi from Queen Mary’s Psalter, England, 1310-1320. Image: British Library / Public Domain
In the Middle Ages, sharing a bed was a common practice because beds were expensive, and it was costly to provide separate sleeping places for everyone.
However, even those who were not financially constrained sometimes did this. Even monarchs did not mind sharing a bed with someone else—as long as it was another person of royal blood.
Philip honoured Richard so highly that every day they ate at the same table and shared the same dishes; at night the bed did not separate them. The king of France loved him as his own soul and their mutual love was so great that the lord king of England was stupefied by its vehemence.
This fragment from the chronicle led some historians to seriously believe that King Richard I the Lionheart was not interested in women.
However, as English researchers John Gillingham and Stephen Jaeger write, for monarchs of that time, sharing a bed was not a sexual gesture but a political one. Eating from the same dish and sharing a bed with someone was a way to express friendship and affection; for carnal matters, there were mistresses.
Moreover, nobles who respected each other could exchange clothes and kiss each other on the lips in a “Brezhnev style”—not for anything inappropriate, but to establish diplomatic relations. A kind of stern royal male friendship with pajama parties.
Unusual Duels
As we have previously discussed, ordeals, or judicial duels, were a common way to administer justice in the Middle Ages. Proper forensic examination and criminal investigation had not been invented yet, so determining who was right or wrong often came down to a physical fight.
There was one catch. Medieval jurists believed that God would not allow an innocent person to lose. However, in practice, it usually turned out that God sided with people who were in good physical shape and professionally skilled with cold weapons.
Of course, one could hire a professional duelist to fight on their behalf—such knights were called “champions.” But not everyone had the means to do so.
Therefore, measures had to be taken to equalize the chances of both sides in a duel.
In the late Middle Ages, two rules were developed for duelists. First, the fighters were literally sewn into duel suits, which could not be removed independently, and were smeared with grease.
Second, they were given unfamiliar weapons. A skilled fencer would be given, instead of his usual sword, a club, a hook, or even a full-length battle door, so that his less experienced opponent had a chance to fight him on equal terms.
These fights looked comical—nothing like Ridley Scott’s film “The Last Duel.” But they were fierce and bloody and, in most cases, ended in the death of one of the participants.
Desecration of Graves
It would seem that the superstitious inhabitants of the Dark Ages should have treated the graves of their ancestors with extreme reverence. However, according to the Austrian Academy of Sciences, about 40% of burials in medieval Europe were disturbed.
In graves discovered by archaeologists in England, Switzerland, Germany, and Austria, many skeletons were found in strange positions—bound, turned face down, with twisted joints, or in unusual postures. Many were decapitated.
The reason, historians believe, is simple: medieval people were fighting zombies. Europeans were preventing the threat of undead uprising at its root. This was necessary to ensure that the restless, or revenants, whom they sincerely believed in, did not rise from their graves and harm the living.
It is quite hard to become a cool vampire when your head is lying somewhere between your knees.
However, not all deceased were considered dangerous by the inhabitants of the Middle Ages. There were also good ones. For example, in Germany, members of the Lombard tribe opened the graves of their relatives to take skulls from there as keepsakes. Thus, in the 6th-century cemetery of Brunn-am-Gebirge, out of 42 graves, a third of the heads were missing.
Apparently, the tribe members believed that the skulls of their ancestors could protect them and bring good luck. In some cases, however, they did not take the skulls away but, on the contrary, added a couple of new ones. Why this was done—archaeologists still cannot figure out.
In other parts of Europe, from Transylvania to southern England, people also often opened the graves of relatives, taking weapons and brooches from them. At the same time, they did not touch the other belongings of the deceased.
In general, in the Middle Ages, people were less concerned with the dead than they are today. Christianity preached that life after death is better than in the mortal world—not surprisingly, with the constant plague outbreaks and Viking raids. So, people regularly held gatherings, fairs, strength competitions, theatrical performances, and court trials in cemeteries.
And women of easy virtue served clients there because cemeteries belonged to the church, and individual entrepreneurs did not have to pay taxes on them.
Demonstrative Weeping
We usually imagine lords or knights as stern, stoic, and unwavering. “Men don’t cry,” and all that. But in the real Middle Ages, tears were viewed quite differently.
In classic knightly romances, we regularly encounter scenes where brave riders cry either about separation from their ladies, the death of their comrades, or the loss of their suzerain.
This is not a literary exaggeration. Chronicles of that time also report knights and aristocrats crying frequently. For example, one ambassador, who arrived at the court of Philip the Good, gave such a speech during negotiations that he not only cried himself but also moved all the courtiers present to tears.
Many men at that time “shed tears, were overcome with grief, and fainted.” Knights with tear-soaked eyes who fainted did not seem ridiculous to those around them but noble.
No one tried to hold back their tears back then—on the contrary, both men and women cried demonstratively at the slightest emotional tension.
To us, this seems strange, but at that time, tears were considered a sign of piety, a “gift from God.” Tears, according to the people of medieval Europe, brought a person closer to Christ. Crying was an essential part of the church services of that time, and the rules of monastic orders required shedding tears during prayer, preaching, and confession.
The custom of crying at every opportunity in England, for example, persisted up until the Early Modern period. In 1628, English politician Thomas Alured described the reaction of the House of Commons to a letter from the king threatening to dissolve parliament: “Sir Robert Phillips spoke and mixed his words with tears… Saint Edward Coke was forced to sit down when he began to speak through abundant tears… The Speaker of the House also could not hold back from crying…”.
Only the harsh Scandinavia managed to avoid widespread tearfulness. There, suspicion of crying was a serious insult to a man, and for it, one could easily be challenged to a duel and killed.
In the Middle Ages, the Contents of Chamber Pots Were Dumped Out of Windows
It is believed that this was a very common practice. In 13th century France, there was allegedly even a law requiring residents to shout three times, “Watch out, water!” before emptying a chamber pot.
However, this is not true. People in the Middle Ages did use chamber pots, as toilets had not yet been invented, but they would empty the contents into cesspits and ditches, not onto the street from a window.
Of course, there may have been some eccentric individuals who did throw waste out of a window, but they probably did not have an easy time.
For example, in 14th century English cities, someone could be fined 40 pence for throwing garbage out of a window — an amount that many ordinary workers earned in a month. That could buy several barrels of beer, a couple of sheep, or a grown pig, so one would have to think twice about whether it was worth it.
It’s also unlikely that the residents of medieval towns would have been thrilled about human waste being dumped on their heads from windows. Records have survived of a man named Thomas Scott who urinated in the street in 1307, which angered two other townspeople. They demanded that the troublemaker go to a public restroom, but when he responded rudely, they beat him and wounded him with a knife.
Another man who threw a spoiled smoked fish out of his window was beaten so badly by his neighbors that he barely recovered.
As you can see, people did not go easy on dirty habits back then.
Wide-Brimmed Hats Were Needed to Protect Against Waste Being Dumped
This myth is related to the previous one. It is also claimed that such hats were worn by middle-class people attending medieval theaters, forced to crowd in the pit. When lords and ladies lounging on the balconies and upper boxes threw leftovers or sneezed down on the commoners, the brims of these hats would help keep their heads relatively clean.
In reality, wide-brimmed hats were made for the obvious purpose of protecting against rain and sun. They were common in all cultures, not just European ones.
In the Middle Ages, they were most often worn by peasants and pilgrims. For the latter, the wide-brimmed hat eventually evolved into the capello romano, or saturno, as well as the galero — hats worn by clergy.
Additionally, they were favored by soldiers, who often had to wander outside in bad weather or heat. Over time, their hats turned into the famous feathered hats of musketeers, known as cavalier hats. And when firearms became widespread and the wide brims began to interfere with aiming, they started pinning them up with pins, creating the tricorne.
Nobles also liked such hats, but not because poor people often poured chamber pot contents on their heads. Aristocrats simply considered pale skin a sign of nobility, while a tan was seen as a distinctive feature of commoners who worked in the fields.
Isabella of Castile Bathed Twice in Her Life
Isabella I of Castile (1451-1504), queen of Castile and León
Experts in the unclean and suffering Middle Ages often cite Queen Isabella I of Castile, who ruled Spain in the 15th century. Allegedly, this lady was so devout that she considered bathing a sin and proudly claimed to have bathed only twice in her life — at birth and before her wedding.
All this to avoid washing away the holy water that touched her skin during baptism.
However, this is a myth, with no evidence to support it. There is only this legend: in 1491, the queen laid siege to the city of Granada, intending to expel the Muslims from Spain. She vowed not to bathe or change clothes until the city fell.
Unfortunately for her, the siege dragged on for eight months, during which time Isabella’s clothes took on an unpleasant grayish-yellow tint that artists later named “isabelline.”
The legend is quite murky: historians can’t determine whose name the color was originally based on — Queen Isabella I of Castile or Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia of Spain. There were also rumors that the latter made a similar vow not to bathe when she began the siege of the Dutch city of Ostend in 1601. And the fighting went on for three years.
As a result, the stories of these two Isabellas often get confused in tales about the unwashed Middle Ages, making it difficult to determine if there is even a grain of truth in the story.
At that time, people often made strange vows to demonstrate steadfastness and win divine favor in battle through their suffering. For example, some knights vowed not to eat meat or shave during war, covered one eye with a patch, or deliberately refused to use fire to warm themselves.
But even if we assume that the legend has a basis in reality and the queen did vow not to bathe for several months, this means that such behavior was unusual for her in normal times and was seen as a real ordeal. And after the city was taken, she did bathe again.
Louis XIV “Stank Like a Beast”
Louis XIV with the Sword of Charlemagne Joyeuse
Another figure allegedly known for avoiding bathing was Louis XIV de Bourbon, King of France—also known as the “Sun King” or “Louis the Great.” According to an internet myth, this monarch supposedly bathed only two or four times in his entire life and did so only under doctor’s orders. However, the idea of Louis XIV‘s poor hygiene can hardly be explained by medieval customs, given that this was already the Early Modern period.
According to some “Russian envoys” (or “Cossacks” in another version), “His Majesty stank like a wild beast.” Sometimes, this phrase is even attributed to Peter the Great himself. However, the Tsar could not have said this because, by the time he visited Versailles in 1717, Louis XIV had already been dead for a couple of years.
There are no historical records of Russian envoys or Cossacks making such a statement.
Most likely, this anecdote was invented by blogger Denis Absintis, the author of a book about the “dirty and sick” Middle Ages, titled Zlaya Korcha (“Evil Cramp”). While describing the unsanitary conditions of that time, he might have gotten a bit carried away and “slightly” exaggerated.
Moreover, in his work, he seriously references the writings of Patrick Süskind—a supposed “Swiss chronicler.” In reality, Süskind is a contemporary author known for his novel Perfume.
In fact, Louis XIV bathed regularly. Otherwise, it would be hard to understand why he spent a fortune on bringing running water to Versailles and building baths and swimming pools there. As contemporaries noted, His Majesty was an excellent swimmer and could swim across the Seine on a dare.
He built a Turkish-style bath in his palace and regularly took baths there, often in the company of court ladies. And when he could not bathe while traveling, he ordered his valets to wipe his body with grape spirits and sprinkle him with perfume.
Crusades Brought Soap to Europe
The dance of the “wild men”. Miniature from “Chronicles” by Jean Froissart. 1470-1472
There’s a claim that Europeans only started bathing after the dirty Crusades stole the secret of soap-making from the Muslims. Before that, the residents of Europe supposedly didn’t know about it at all.
In reality, Europe had entire guilds of soap-makers as early as the 6th century. It’s unclear how they managed to produce their products if the First Crusade only took place in the 11th century.
Crusades did bring back a specific recipe for soap from Palestine—one made with olive oil. When European soap makers started using olive oil instead of animal fat, their products began to smell better. Wealthy people then switched to this new soap. But to say that Europeans didn’t use soap before the wars with the Muslims is inaccurate.
Europeans Considered Russians Perverts Because They Bathed Once a Month
This statement also circulated on the internet, thanks to the author of Zlaya Korcha. However, there’s a catch: he provided no sources for this claim.
Bathhouses were common in Europe at that time, both private ones (for wealthy gentlemen) and public bathhouses. The latter often doubled as bakeries or blacksmith shops to save firewood and not waste the heat from the ovens when there was no need to heat water. Here is a description of such establishments in the city of Erfurt in the 13th century:
The bathhouses in this city will bring you true pleasure. A beautiful young girl will rub you well with her tender hands. An experienced barber will shave you without a drop of sweat falling on your face. A pretty woman… will skillfully comb your hair. Who wouldn’t steal a kiss from her if they wished?
Civilization of the Medieval West, Jacques Le Goff
Yes, bathhouses were often combined with brothels, and it was easy to receive additional services from the bath attendants besides washing. The Church turned a blind eye to these minor sins—in England, for example, bishops taxed bathhouses located within their dioceses.
In the Middle Ages, People Ate with Their Hands and Had No Manners
Medieval people, even noble lords, are often depicted as very ill-mannered diners who grabbed food from the table and ate it with their hands. The myth goes that forks were only brought from the East towards the end of the era, and before that, people had to use their dirty fingers.
However, medieval table etiquette can be judged from a 15th-century manuscript titled “Les Countenance de Table.”
……and let your fingers be clean, and your fingernails well-groomed. Once a morsel has been touched, let it not be returned to the plate. Do not touch your ears or nose with your bare hands. Do not clean your teeth with a sharp iron while eating. It is ordered by regulation that you should not put a dish to your mouth. He who wishes to drink must first finish what is in his mouth. And let his lips be wiped first. Once the table is cleared, wash your hands, and have a drink.
Les Countenance de Table, 15th-Century Manuscript
As you can see, it doesn’t quite resemble a scene from the comedy Black Knight, where the king served peas with the same hand he had just scratched himself with, and then fed the dog.
Forks indeed appeared in Europe relatively late, in the 1600s. Before that, people only used spoons and knives, and a noble lord carried his eating knife on his belt—it was considered foolish to show up at a feast without your own cutlery. When medieval aristocrats finally acquired forks, they initially carried them in sheaths, too—a rather amusing custom.
So Much Filth Flowed Through City Streets that People Walked on Stilts
Medieval European cities, of course, were not as well-kept as modern ones, but authors of articles and books about the “grim Dark Ages” sometimes exaggerate too much.
For example, there is a myth that streams of feces, manure, and other filth, poured from the windows and doors of surrounding houses, flowed down the streets of settlements. People were supposedly forced to walk on stilts to navigate the streets.
It is also said that heels were invented to allow people to move through dung-covered streets without getting dirty.
Sounds disgusting, doesn’t it? However, images of medieval sufferers on stilts, which are often used to illustrate such statements, are misunderstood by modern people.
These devices were indeed worn, but not by city dwellers. Rather, they were used by peasants, who used them to move through wet fields and swamps without getting stuck. Additionally, stilts were used to harvest crops from tall trees and for entertainment—there were even amusing battles and tournaments held on them.
It was not necessary to move around on stilts in cities, as filth did not flow down the streets. There were designated sewage channels for this purpose, and they were covered to prevent odors from spreading. Special responsible individuals made sure these channels did not overflow.
As for heeled shoes, ladies sometimes wore them to avoid getting their dresses dirty—not in filth, but in rain puddles. Later, men adopted this fashion, using such shoes to emphasize their status and increase their height.
Fifty-two regular Sundays, a week each for celebrating the main Christian holidays—Easter, Christmas, and Pentecost—along with other obligatory holidays like Epiphany, Baptism, Candlemas, Palm Sunday, Ascension, Trinity, the Feast of Corpus Christi, the Sacred Heart, Transfiguration, Exaltation of the Cross, Feast of the Holy Family, Immaculate Conception, Saint Joseph’s Day, Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, Assumption of the Virgin Mary, and All Saints’ Day, plus days dedicated to various saints—patrons of cities, guilds, and so on—along with days for their commemoration and associated events, as well as entries of rulers, bishops, and other important figures. Altogether, about a third of the year was spent by medieval city dwellers in leisure.
Go to Church and Listen to a Preacher
Festive church services were performed with great pomp, featuring the best choir singers. From the 9th–10th centuries, festive Mass began to resemble an allegorical play due to performances based on Old Testament, Gospel, or hagiographic stories. These performances lasted until about the 13th century when they were replaced by city theatrical events.
On holidays, women tried to dress up: they went not only to the service but also “to see people” — to look at others and show themselves. Everyone in the church had their place, determined by their social status. On Sundays and holidays, working was forbidden, and after Mass, parishioners often sought entertainment: dancing and singing often occurred right in the churchyard, although clergy at least formally condemned such behavior.
Sometimes, a preacher would visit the city, and if he did not perform in the church courtyard, the townspeople would build him a platform where he could pray with the congregation and then deliver a scathing sermon.
Watch a Performance
King Charles VI nearly burned to death in 1393 at the Bal des Ardents at the Hôtel Saint-Pol
Medieval theatrical performances primarily provided spiritual entertainment for the townspeople and explained the Holy Scriptures in the vernacular in various forms. The basis of a miracle play was apocryphal Gospels, hagiographies, and chivalric romances. In England, miracle plays were usually staged by members of craft guilds in honor of their patrons. In France, they were popular among members of puy—urban associations for joint pious activities, music, and poetry competitions.
The plot of a mystery play was usually the Passion of Christ, the expectation of the Savior, or the lives of saints. Originally, mysteries were part of church services, but they later moved to the churchyard or cemetery, and then to city squares. They were performed not by professional actors, but by clergy and members of the puy.
Moralities were something between religious and comic theater. In allegorical form, they showed the struggle between good and evil in the world and in the individual. The outcome of this struggle was either the salvation or damnation of the soul.
Performances were announced in advance; posters were hung on city gates, and during the performance, the city was carefully guarded “so that no unknown people could enter the said city on that day,” as stated in a 1390 document preserved in the city hall archive in Tours.
Despite the conventionality of the productions, what happened on stage was entirely fused with reality for the audience, and tragic events were mixed with comic scenes. Spectators often became participants in the action.
Enjoy Wandering Performers
One could also enjoy entertainment without moral lessons, like watching wandering performers. Around the 14th century in France, troupes of professional actors began to form—such as the “Brotherhood of the Passion” and the “Carefree Lads.” Traveling performers—histriones, spielmänner, and jugglers—used all sorts of tricks to amaze and amuse the public. The “Teaching of Troubadour Giro de Calancon to a Juggler” (he lived in the early 13th century) lists a whole range of skills an actor needed:
[He] should play different instruments; juggle balls on two knives, tossing them from one blade to another; show puppets; jump through four hoops; don a fake red beard and costume to dress up and scare fools; train a dog to stand on its hind legs; master the art of a monkey handler; amuse the audience with comical depictions of human weaknesses; run and leap on a rope stretched from one tower to another, making sure it doesn’t give way…
Listen to Music or Poetry
Instrumental music was mainly the domain of jugglers and minstrels, who sang, danced, and performed to the sound of their instruments. Besides various wind instruments (trumpets, horns, flutes, Pan flutes, bagpipes), harps and types of bowed instruments—the ancestors of the future violin, like the crwth, rebab, and vielle or fiddle—were introduced into musical life over time.
Moving from place to place, jugglers performed at festivals in courts, castles, and city squares. Despite church persecution, jugglers and minstrels managed to gain the opportunity to participate in religious performances in the 12th–13th centuries.
In the south of France, lyrical poets were called troubadours, in the north trouvères, and in Germany Minnesingers. The lyric of the Minnesingers belonged to the nobility, heavily influenced by knightly poetry and the love songs of the troubadours. Later, the art of versification in German cities was taken up by the Meistersingers, for whom poetry became a special science.
Like craftsmen, city poets formed societies similar to guilds. In Ypres, Antwerp, Brussels, Ghent, and Bruges, guilds of so-called “rhetoricians”—craftsmen and merchants who took charge of poetry—held festivals. Each guild had its own coat of arms and motto in the form of a charade, as well as a special hierarchical structure: dean, standard-bearer, jester, and other members of the “elder council.” The city authorities funded competitions in poetry and acting, awarding several prizes: for literary achievements, the best jester’s line, the richest costume, and the most magnificent entry into the city.
To Dance
A medieval peasant meal. Image: French National Library
Dance was a favorite pastime for all social classes in medieval society; no celebration was complete without dancing. Jugglers made the dance more complex by adding acrobatic elements, but townspeople loved to move themselves, not just watch the professionals. The church usually opposed such entertainments, and city governments did not always have a favorable attitude towards dancing. However, later on, authorities began to permit dances in city halls, and by the end of the 14th century, so-called dance houses began to appear. A dance house was usually located near or opposite the town hall and church. The loud music and laughter disturbed the pious atmosphere of the parishioners and church staff, causing their displeasure and endless complaints.
In Nördlingen, Bavaria, the dance house was located in a three-story building. During fairs, the ground floor was connected by passages to nearby butcher shops and a tavern, allowing visitors to move between establishments. In buildings with multiple floors, the upper-level halls were typically reserved for burghers of noble origin, while the lower levels were at the disposal of ordinary townspeople. In some cities, the dance house also served as an inn, and in Munich and Regensburg, prisoners were even held in the basement of the “Tanzhaus” (dance house).
Moreover, there were dance houses designed exclusively for commoners: a wooden platform slightly raised above the ground was covered with a roof supported by four columns. Musicians would be positioned on this platform, and men and women would dance in a circle around them. While the nobility preferred measured and ceremonial processional dances and guild festivals featured dances with hoops, swords, and other objects symbolizing artisanal products, the townspeople favored improvisational dances and round dances, which the church considered crude and shameless.
To Visit a Fair
Weekly markets served the townspeople regularly, but fairs were held much less frequently—only once or a few times a year: at Christmas, Easter, or on the feast day of a local saint, the city’s patron or the patrons of trade and craft guilds.
For example, the fair in Saint-Denis, outside the walls of Paris, was held once a year but lasted an entire month. During this time, all trading in Paris ceased and moved to Saint-Denis. Residents flocked there not only to shop but also to marvel at exotic items from distant lands, to watch performances by jugglers, acrobats, and trained bears, and to listen to stories told by merchants who had traveled overseas. The spectacle was so popular that Charlemagne issued a special order to his officials to “ensure that our people perform the work they are required to do by law, rather than waste time wandering through markets and fairs.”
Fairs attracted all sorts of riff-raff, often leading to fights and disturbances. This is why, for a long time, fairs were only allowed in cities where there was a bishop or ruler who could maintain order and resolve disputes between participants. In medieval England, there were even special courts with simplified procedures to ensure quick resolution of cases. These were called “courts of piepowder”—so named in 1471 by the English Parliament, which decreed that all persons associated with fairs were entitled to demand this type of court.
To Participate in a Carnival
Carnival was inseparable from Lent: it was the last multi-day celebration before a long period of abstinence, and it was accompanied by feasts, masquerades, processions, and mock fights with cheeses and sausages. Carnival was a realm of gluttony, chaos, and celebration of all things corporeal. Masks and disguises, half-animal half-human figures, kings of fools, ships of fools, and the election of an “ass pope”—all church and secular rituals were translated into the language of buffoonery, and symbols of authority were publicly mocked. Entire church services and sacred texts were turned upside down. The main events of the carnival took place in churches, although these obscenities had been officially banned with interdicts since the 13th century.
In a message sent by the theological faculty in Paris to the bishops of France in 1445, the carnival was described vividly:
One can see priests and clerics wearing masks and monstrous faces during services. They dance in the choir, dressed as women, pimps, and minstrels.
They sing indecent songs. They eat sausages in the corners of the altar while the priest celebrates Mass. There, too, they play dice. They burn foul-smelling smoke from the soles of old shoes. They jump, run around the church without shame. Then they ride through the city in dirty carts and carriages, making obscene gestures and uttering shameful and filthy words to the laughter of their companions.
During the carnival, anything forbidden on ordinary days was allowed, hierarchies were broken, and established norms were turned upside down—but as soon as the festival ended, life returned to its usual course.
Greeting a Guest or Ruler
Ceremonial entries of emperors, kings, princes, legates, and other lords into their subordinate cities were always laden with a multi-layered symbolic meaning: they reminded people of the nature of power, celebrated victories, and affirmed political dominion over distant territories. These events occurred quite often: in the Middle Ages and even in the Early Modern period, royal courts were itinerant — to maintain power, kings had to constantly move from place to place.
The ceremony consisted of several acts, each strictly regulated. It all began with the greeting of the ruler, often far outside the city; this was followed by the reception of the crowned figure at the city walls, the handing over of the keys, the opening of the city gates, and delegations from the nobility and clergy. From the gates, the procession moved along the main streets of the city, which were strewn with fresh flowers and green branches.
Finally, in the central city square, oxen and game were roasted, and barrels of wine were rolled out for all the townspeople. In 1490, during the entry of Charles VIII into Vienne, a “Fountain of Good and Evil” was installed, which spouted red wine from one side and white wine from the other. Such feasts were intended to embody the image of a fairytale land of abundance, a vision the ruler was expected to present to his subjects at least once.
For the guest, elaborate performances were staged. In 1453, a whole play was performed in Reggio: the city’s patron saint, Saint Prospero, hovered in the air with a host of angels who asked him for the keys to the city to hand them over to the duke, while hymns were sung in his honor. When the procession reached the main square, Saint Peter descended from the church and placed a wreath on the duke’s head.
In the German lands, the sovereign often entered the city surrounded by criminals sentenced to exile, and they didn’t just accompany him in the procession but held onto the edge of his garment, the harness, saddle, or stirrup of his horse — thus allowing them to return to the city. For example, in 1442, King Frederick III ordered eleven people to accompany him to Zurich, and in 1473, thirty-seven to Basel. However, city authorities could expel the criminals again as soon as the ruler left the city.
Watching a Knightly Tournament
The Codex Manesse (also Große Heidelberger Liederhandschrift or Pariser Handschrift) is a Liederhandschrift (manuscript containing songs), the single most comprehensive source of Middle High German Minnesang poetry, written and illustrated between c. 1304 when the main part was completed, and c. 1340 with the addenda
The tournament was a true celebration of martial valor and chivalric honor. Everyone wanted, if not to participate, then at least to watch how the noble youth earned glory and spoils. Initially, the event resembled a mix of a fair and a real battle: participants would clash wall to wall, some receiving serious injuries or even dying, and a diverse crowd gathered around, consisting of not only knights, their squires, foot soldiers, and servants, but also blacksmiths, merchants, money-changers, and onlookers.
Under the influence of chivalric romances, tournaments gradually became more organized, with participants using specialized weapons. Knights would face off in one-on-one duels, and the lists would be fenced off. Stands were built for spectators, each with its own “queen,” and the prize for the best tournament fighter was traditionally awarded by women. In 1364, Francesco Petrarch described the atmosphere of a Venetian joust (from the Italian word giostre — “duel”) as follows:
“Below, there is not a free spot… the vast square, the very temple [of Saint Mark], the towers, the roofs, the porticoes, the windows are not only full but overfilled and crammed: an incredible multitude of people hides the face of the earth, and the joyful, numerous population of the city, spreading around the streets, only increases the merriment.”
Eventually, tournaments turned into a costly and sophisticated courtly entertainment, accompanying various celebrations such as the wedding of a ruler, coronation, or the conclusion of peace or an alliance — along with festive masses, processions, banquets, and balls, most of which were not intended for ordinary townspeople.
The townsfolk responded with a parody “knightly tournament” (often organized during the big carnival at Maslenitsa), where the entire chivalric ritual was turned upside down. A person imitating a knight would ride out for a duel with a basket for a helmet on their head, sitting on an old nag or a barrel, and threaten the opponent with a rake or something from the kitchen instead of a lance. After the event ended, everyone would immediately set off to celebrate with a merry feast.
Participating in Sporting Competitions
The burghers had every opportunity to train and compete in the use of real weapons. For practice, archery societies and fencing schools were organized in Flemish, northern Italian, English, French, and German cities, as well as in Krakow, Kyiv, and Novgorod. Associations of archers and fencers had their own charters and resembled guilds.
Training was conducted in various disciplines, but each city chose a specific type of combat for its competitions. For example, in Spanish cities, preference was given to duels with cold steel and mounted bullfights, in southern England and Novgorod — fistfights, and in German and Flemish cities — fencing and wrestling.
In Italy, the games and competitions of city-republic residents resembled drills. In Pavia, for instance, the townspeople were divided into two groups, given wooden weapons, and wore protective helmets. Prizes were awarded to the winners. In river cities, battles could be staged for the symbolic capture of a bridge. Images of a bustling crowd fighting on such a bridge were a favorite subject of engravings from that era: in the foreground, gondoliers are rescuing those who have fallen into the water, while numerous spectators crowd the windows and roofs of nearby houses.
In England, playing ball was a popular pastime for young men.
Everyone who wished could participate, and there were almost no rules. The ball, stuffed with bran or straw, could be kicked, dribbled with feet, rolled, or carried in hands. The goal of the game was to get the ball across a certain line. In cities, such large-scale skirmishes were fraught with great dangers, and it was no coincidence that in London, Nuremberg, Paris, and other places, restrictions were introduced early on to temper the players’ fervor.
To Play
For those who didn’t enjoy street fun, there were home entertainments. For example, blind man’s buff and “Frog in the Middle.” The rules of the latter game were as follows: a person sat in the center while others taunted and hit them. The goal was to catch one of the players without leaving the circle, and then that person became the “frog.”
There were also calm games: some required players to answer questions from the leaders truthfully, while others involved telling a story. In addition, there was a game called “Saint Cosmas”: one participant took on the role of the saint, and the others knelt before them one by one. The leader had to make the kneeling player laugh by any means, and then that person had to perform some task.
By the Middle Ages, checkers, chess, dice, and even cards had become popular. Chess was a pastime for the nobility, and chessboards made of wood or metal were considered luxury items, often true works of art.
The rules for playing cards varied. For example, one participant would draw a card from the deck, and everyone present would bet money on it. If three or four cards of the same suit were drawn in a row, the player who drew the first card would win all the money bet on it.
But the most popular game was dice. This game was enjoyed by all social classes — in huts, castles, taverns, and even monasteries — with people losing money, clothes, horses, and homes. Many complained that they had lost everything they owned in this game. Moreover, there were frequent cases of cheating, especially with fake dice: some had magnetic surfaces, others had the same side reproduced twice, and others had a side weighted with lead. As a result, numerous disputes arose, sometimes even escalating into private wars.
To Go to the Bathhouse and Have a Good Drink
In most medieval cities, there were public bathhouses. In Paris at the end of the 13th century, there were 26 bathhouses, half a century later in Nuremberg — 12, in Erfurt — 10, in Vienna — 29, and in Wrocław — 12. Visiting a bathhouse was not limited solely to hygiene; rather, it was a place for entertainment, pleasure, and socializing. After bathing, visitors participated in receptions and dinners, played ball games, chess, dice, drank, and danced.
In German cities, wine merchants rolled wine barrels to the streets near the bathhouses, set up stools around them, brought out mugs, and offered wine to anyone who wanted to try it. An immediate drinking party would form on the street, so city councils were forced to ban this custom. Exceptions were made only for a few days a year, such as St. Martin’s Day when it was customary to open new wine. But on those days, people stood, sat, and lay in the streets — drinking wine.
Despite prohibitions from the authorities and the church, some bathhouses and adjacent taverns took on the character of brothels: in addition to food and drink, citizens could also enjoy massages and services from prostitutes, who were often referred to as “bath attendants.”
In general, although prostitution was condemned by the church, it was considered an inevitable phenomenon. “Women’s houses,” or “reputable houses,” belonged to noble families, merchants, royal officials, and even bishops and abbots, and the most prestigious of them were often located near the magistrate’s or courthouse. In the High Middle Ages, visiting a brothel by unmarried men was not considered shameful — it was seen rather as a sign of health and well-being.
To Rest by the City Fountain
Not all townspeople could afford to have a separate garden or water feature built behind their home; many lived in rented rooms, cubicles, and annexes. Water for household use was drawn from a public well or fountain located in the square, usually not far from the church. In the Late Middle Ages, these fountains served not only as decorations and sources of drinking water but also as meeting places and promenades for the townspeople.
To Watch an Execution
An execution site could be located outside the city, across the moat, on the square, or even in front of the victim’s house, but the execution was always a public event. The place and time of the execution, as well as the route of the criminal, were known in advance to all townspeople. Heralds summoned the spectators. The optimal time was considered to be noon, and often the authorities held executions on market days to ensure the maximum crowd, although not on religious holidays.
The crowd gathered around the criminal gradually as the procession moved through the city.
The entire punishment ritual was designed for spectators, a slow theatrical performance meant to involve the surrounding public in the ceremony. In some cases, the criminal was given the right to duel with the executioner, and people could assist in their release. This happened in Saint-Quentin in 1403 when, during the struggle, the executioner fell to the ground, and the townspeople demanded that the royal provost release the victor. Spectators monitored the precise execution of the ritual and could demand a retrial if something went wrong.
The bodies of criminals were forbidden to be buried in cemeteries, and their corpses remained on the gallows for many years until they completely decomposed, serving as a warning to those wandering around.
Desiderius, Archbishop of Vienne, was not only a well-educated man but also a righteous one. However, because he advocated for teaching grammar based on secular literature, the church authorities accused him of an inappropriate love for pagan poets. Additionally, Desiderius openly condemned what he saw as the debauched lifestyles of King Theuderic II, his grandmother Queen Brunhilda, and other secular authorities.
The archbishop’s real troubles began after he quarreled with Prothadius, an official with connections to the royal family (it is believed that Prothadius was the lover of the elderly queen). In 603, a noblewoman named Justa, one of the parishioners, suddenly accused Desiderius of rape. Not long before, several similar scandals had erupted in the Frankish kingdoms, and Vienne was the capital of their religious life, so Queen Brunhilda could not ignore this case. Desiderius did not deny his guilt or comment on the incident at all, yet historians believe the accusation was completely fabricated.
A church council was convened to judge Desiderius. The case was examined in Cabillonum (modern-day Chalon-sur-Saône), the royal residence of Burgundy. The presiding bishop was Aredius of Lyon, who did not like Desiderius. In the presence of King Theuderic II and Queen Brunhilda, the council quickly found the archbishop guilty and sentenced him to removal from office, deprivation of civil rights, and exile to a monastery on the island of Lérins.
Four years later, Prothadius died, and doubts were raised about the truthfulness of the accusations against Desiderius. Theuderic and Brunhilda restored the exiled archbishop to his post — but not for long. Desiderius again turned the queen against him, was arrested, and taken to a village near Lyon (which still bears his name). There, royal soldiers, without trial or investigation, beat him to death. Later, the church canonized Desiderius.
Conradin (1252–1268)
Execution of Conradin by Giovanni Villani, Nuova Cronica, 14th century. Image: Public Domain
Conradin, Duke of Swabia, King of Jerusalem, and Sicily, lost his father at the age of two and inherited the throne. In Sicily, his father’s brother, Manfred, became regent. Upon receiving a false report of his nephew’s death, Manfred declared himself king. When it was revealed that Conradin was still alive, he decided not to return the throne to his nephew but promised to make him his heir.
Meanwhile, Pope Clement IV did not recognize the right to Sicily for either of them and blessed Charles I of Anjou to the throne. Charles defeated Manfred’s forces and took possession of the Kingdom of Sicily. Then, Conradin, who was already fifteen years old, won several important battles, but his army was eventually defeated, and he was captured. Most of his supporters were immediately executed, while Conradin and his close associate, Frederick of Baden, were taken to Charles in Naples to be executed following a court ruling.
In Naples, a public and allegedly impartial hearing was organized, where the prosecution’s lawyers presented Conradin’s invasion as an act of treason and robbery. They argued that the accused had gone against the Pope, resulting in the deaths of civilians in the area of Tagliacozzo (an Italian town near the site of Conradin’s decisive battle), which was outside the disputed territory of Sicily. They characterized these deaths as murders and crimes against divine and human laws.
The defense was represented by a Neapolitan lawyer who claimed that Conradin was the legitimate heir to the throne, and thus his actions should not be seen as defiance of the Pope’s will or as aggression. As for the civilian deaths, he argued they were the result of a military conflict, and Conradin should not be held responsible.
Ultimately, four judges found Conradin guilty, adding the charge of insulting the Pope, for which Conradin was first excommunicated. Additionally, the court sentenced Conradin and Frederick of Baden to death. The execution was carried out in 1268: Conradin and several of his associates were beheaded. This execution shocked all of Europe. Conradin was later mentioned as an innocent victim by Dante and Heinrich Heine.
Jacques de Molay (1244–1314)
Jacques de Molay sentenced to the stake in 1314, from the Chronicle of France or of St Denis (fourteenth century). Image: Public Domain
In the early 14th century, rumors spread throughout France that the Templars, members of one of the largest and wealthiest military-monastic orders, were forcing new members during initiation to spit on the cross, worship idols, encourage “unnatural lust,” and commit other indecencies and blasphemies. Jacques de Molay, the 23rd and last Grand Master of the order, first appealed to King Philip the Fair and then to Pope Clement V to investigate the defamatory rumors about the order.
Both promised to comply with his request, but instead, the king secretly instructed his officials to begin mass arrests of Templars. De Molay was among those arrested. The order’s property was confiscated and added to the royal treasury. Furthermore, Philip sent letters to other European monarchs demanding the extradition of knights who were outside France.
At first, they refused, but after the Pope, who was trying to lead the persecution of the Templars, issued a bull essentially requiring compliance with the king’s request, they handed over a few people.
This was followed by a lengthy trial during which the original five charges grew to an unprecedented number.
During the investigation, the defendants were subjected to the harshest torture, explaining why Molay changed his testimony several times. In October 1307, he admitted that there was indeed a custom in the order to renounce Christ and spit on the cross. He wrote a letter to the members of the order, urging them to follow his example and confess to the offenses described in the letter; many knights followed his advice. But at the first hearing held by the papal commission, Molay recanted his testimony, and Clement V suspended the investigation.
Soon, Philip forced the Pope to reopen the hearings. The process was now divided into two parts: the papal court dealt with the cases of individual members, while the fate of the order as a whole was to be determined by a specially convened Council of Vienne. In August 1308, Molay was interrogated again, this time in the presence of royal agents, and returned to his confessional statements, but in 1309, before the papal commission, he denied the charges against the order.
Other members of the order began to join him, claiming that their confessions had been extracted under torture. In response, Philip IV executed 54 knights of the order, burning them at the stake as relapsed heretics. In 1312, the Pope finally dissolved the order.
The hearings continued for another two years. Finally, Molay and his closest associates were sentenced to life imprisonment. Most Templars listened to the verdict in silence, but Molay and a member of the order, Geoffrey de Charney, declared that they were guilty not of what they were accused of, but of renouncing the order in an attempt to save their lives. The Grand Master stated that the order was holy and innocent. This enraged Philip. Molay was swiftly condemned and burned at the stake as a heretic without further investigation. Before his execution, he was offered a quicker death if he confessed his guilt, but he refused.
William Wallace (1270–1305)
Wallace’s trial in Westminster Hall. Painting by Daniel Maclise
In 1296, King Edward I of England proclaimed himself King of Scotland. The following year marked the beginning of the First War of Scottish Independence. The war began with the murder of the English sheriff of Lanark by William Wallace, a member of the lower Scottish nobility. According to legend, Wallace was avenging his wife’s death. The war gradually spread throughout Scotland, and the Scottish nobility began to join the rebels. The struggle proceeded with varying success, and at one point, only a few castles remained in English hands.
However, in 1305, Wallace was captured near Glasgow and taken to London.
His trial took place in Westminster, presided over by King Edward I of England himself. Wallace was accused of treason, the murders of royal officials and civilians, sacrilege, and the burning of churches and relics. He was not allowed to defend himself; instead, he had to silently listen to the full list of actions for which he was blamed. Nevertheless, in response to the accusations, he uttered the famous phrase that he could not be a traitor because he had never been Edward’s subject nor sworn allegiance to him.
This remark, essentially true, changed nothing: in front of a large crowd, it was announced that Wallace was sentenced to the punishment reserved for all traitors to the crown. He was tied to a horse and dragged through the streets from the Tower to Smithfield, the execution ground in London. There, he was hanged, drawn, and quartered, and his head was cut off. Parts of his body were displayed in major Scottish cities to intimidate their inhabitants.
John Ball (1330–1381)
Medieval drawing of John Ball giving hope to Wat Tyler’s rebels
The English priest John Ball preached social equality and sympathized with the emerging ideas of Protestantism. Due to his radical views, he was repeatedly imprisoned for heresy. At one point, the Archbishop of Canterbury even banned him from speaking and forbade the congregation from listening to his sermons, apparently excommunicating him from the church. However, this did not stop Ball; he became a wandering preacher without a parish and continued to enjoy popularity among the public.
In the spring of 1381, the first major peasant uprising began, led by a village craftsman named Wat Tyler. According to one version, at this time Ball was once again in prison, where he was to remain for three months, but was freed by the rebels. The preacher then joined the uprising and became its ideological leader, proclaiming that slavery was unnatural because all people are born equal, and therefore, serfdom in England should be abolished. In his most famous sermon, he said, “When Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman?”
By the summer, the rebellion had reached London. The young King Richard II, concerned by the scale of the revolt, sought to appease the rebels, assuring them that he would meet their demands. However, during one of his meetings with Tyler, the latter was killed. Deprived of their leader, the rebellion gradually subsided.
The peasants, trusting the king’s promises, dispersed and returned home.
After this, John Ball was arrested and brought to trial the very next day. Many of the rebels were merely fined or given short prison sentences. However, Ball, who at the trial did not deny the charges against him, refused to renounce his ideas, express regret, or show any doubt in his actions, fully acknowledging his authorship of the speeches and letters, was sentenced to death as a traitor. In the presence of King Richard II, he was hanged, drawn, and quartered, and his head was displayed on London Bridge as a reminder of the fate that awaits rebels.
Girolamo Savonarola (1452–1498)
Savonarola’s execution in the Piazza della Signoria, painting by Filippo Dolciati (1498). Image: Public Domain
At the height of humanism, with its cult of classical literature, pursuit of spiritual pleasures, and proclaimed freedom of human will, Savonarola, a Florentine Dominican priest, delivered sermons at the church of San Marco, denouncing vice and predicting divine punishment that would befall Italy for its sins. He openly criticized Lorenzo de’ Medici, the ruler of Florence, and later his son Piero the Unfortunate, accusing them of debauchery, lack of piety, and passion for luxury. He also spoke out against the Pope and prelates who were excessively fond of Greek poetry and the arts.
Savonarola became an extraordinarily influential preacher. He claimed that God’s words descended directly to him from heaven, thus placing himself on par with Old Testament prophets. His credibility was strengthened after several of his prophecies came true.
In 1494, the French King Charles VIII invaded Italy and ousted Piero de’ Medici. Savonarola became the de facto ruler of Florence and began its purification. He reformed the governance of the republic and punished impious citizens—fashionistas, gamblers, blasphemers, and the depraved. In February 1497, a massive “Bonfire of the Vanities” took place in the city, in which expensive clothes, mirrors, playing cards, books, musical instruments, paintings, and sculptures were burned—several of Botticelli’s works are believed to have been burned in this fire.
During his fanatical activities and uncompromising sermons, Savonarola made many enemies. In May 1497, Pope Alexander VI excommunicated Savonarola from the church and demanded that the Florentine authorities either imprison him immediately or send him to Rome, threatening Florence with a ban on religious rites if they disobeyed and excommunicating anyone who listened to the priest.
Eventually, under pressure from Rome, the city authorities banned Savonarola from preaching. In response, the priest wrote a letter to Charles VIII, proposing to depose the Pope, but the letter never reached the king as it was intercepted and delivered to the Pope himself.
Savonarola was challenged to prove his righteousness through an ordeal: he and a Franciscan monk were to pass through several fires—it was assumed that the one on God’s side would remain unharmed. Without notifying Savonarola, one of his followers volunteered to undergo the ordeal. On the day of the test, the whole city gathered in the square, but rain prevented the ordeal from taking place. The absence of the promised miracle and the fact that another person was to undergo the trial instead of Savonarola led to a loss of popular support. He had to take refuge from the angry crowd in the monastery of San Marco. The next day, the crowd besieged the monastery, and, choosing between the enraged people and the authorities, Savonarola chose the latter.
Contrary to the Pope’s wishes, the trial took place not in Rome, but in Florence. However, the Pope established a special commission of seventeen of Savonarola’s opponents to review the case. During the investigation, he was subjected to torture fourteen times a day, during which he repeatedly confessed that all his teachings, visions, and sermons were false, but as soon as the torture stopped, he retracted his words. This could not serve as convincing evidence, so the defendant’s testimony was eventually falsified and published in a more consistent form. The court sentenced him to death. Before a large crowd, Savonarola and his followers were hanged, and their bodies were then burned. Two centuries later, the church exonerated Savonarola, and today there is discussion about his canonization.
Marriage is one of the oldest social institutions, typically sanctioned by law, uniting a man and a woman in a special form of mutual dependence, often to establish and maintain a family. As early as the Middle Ages, the Church sought to regulate the union of spouses very strictly with the establishment of the sacrament of marriage in 1181, codifying marital life from the publication of banns to the consummation. But what actually happened behind the scenes of this so-called marriage?
The Church Formalizes Marriage in the Middle Ages
In the 11th century, during the Gregorian reform, the Church sought to impose a rigid distinction between clerics and laypeople. The former, tasked with ensuring the spirituality of society, were required to remain celibate, while the latter were responsible for the biological reproduction of the species and were required to marry according to increasingly strict rules that were identical for all. Marriage thus became a sacrament based on four central pillars: indissolubility, monogamy, consensus, and exogamy.
The union between a man and a woman must be unique and never be broken during the lifetime of the spouses. The publication of banns is mandatory to ensure greater publicity for the union. Severe sanctions threaten clandestine marriages. The Prior of St. Eloi reminds us that man is made in the image of God (made for himself), and woman is made in the likeness of man (created to help man), which is why she is subject to him!
By the end of the medieval period, women married around the ages of 17 and 18, and men were about ten years older, an age difference that reinforced male dominance. “Le Ménagier de Paris,” a treatise on morality and domestic economy, is intended for young wives. Obedience is imperative for women, but this does not prevent them from playing an important domestic role. The wife brings to the family her dowry plus a wealth of culinary, horticultural, and educational expertise.
A woman who exercises authority over her husband is unnatural; a beaten or cuckolded husband is a sign of scandalous inversion, attracting dishonorable ridicule. The ridiculed man must ride a donkey backward through the streets of the city!
Beat Your Wife or Celebrate Her
The husband holds over his wife a right of correction that an Italian proverb confirms: “Good wife or slob, every woman wants the stick.” Any head of household can punish his wife and family without anyone intervening. It is only when he exceeds what is ”accepted” that he can be condemned. However, such violent examples are rare; murder between spouses represents, in 1380–1422, less than one case of homicide out of a hundred.
The strong hierarchy within the couple does not prevent the expression of feelings.
This marital affection can be seen in the rare epistolary sources from the late Middle Ages.
Out of Wedlock in the Middle Ages
At the end of the Middle Ages, not all heterosexual couples were married. Before the Council of Trent (1545–1563), there were other forms of temporary or permanent cohabitation between men and women, even if they were condemned by the church: adulterous relationships, bigamy, concubinage, and second unions after separation.
It’s the infidelity of the married woman, not that of the man, that constitutes adultery due to the illegitimate children introduced into the household. The term “adultery” is used for women. Concubinage is widespread: clerics live with a concubine as “husband and wife,” sometimes with children too! For many young people from disadvantaged backgrounds, this could be a temporary choice while waiting to have a “real marriage.”
A Calendar for Love
The Church portrays the carnal act as a duty that spouses have to one another under conjugal law. However, it stipulates that such acts should only occur for procreation purposes and at specific times throughout the year. Spouses are required to abstain on Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, as well as during the significant fasting periods leading up to Easter and Christmas, along with numerous feast days dedicated to saints. Furthermore, abstinence is mandated during the woman’s menstruation, pregnancy, the 40 days following childbirth, and prior to the churching ceremony.
Nevertheless, it is important to recognize the practical realities of human behavior. If these prohibitions were strictly adhered to, the frequency of intercourse between couples would have been limited to one to three days per month.
The position of the woman on top of the man is prohibited by the church, as is the one where the man places himself behind his partner because it reduces him to the level of an animal. Canonical texts and medical works assure Christians that if they adopt these positions or if they engage in intercourse during periods not prescribed by the church, they will give birth to infirm, leprous, and deformed children.
However, the historian cannot extend his knowledge regarding these prohibitions.
Was the intimacy of the medieval couple limited? Only revealed to us is the restraint of men and women of the Middle Ages who preferred to cast a modest veil over amorous encounters forever lost.
If infantry continues to use javelins and pikes, literature like epic poems, plays, and novels extolling chivalric life frequently mentions the knight’s lance. This lance, equipped with a. During the Middle Ages, books were primarily the labor of monk scribes, tasked with transcribing manuscripts. The scribe initially prepares the parchment by drawing lines and reserving margins and spaces for illumination.
These illuminations, found within the works, serve more than just decorative purposes; they often have precise functions, aiding in the comprehension of the text for those unable to read. Most works comprise excerpts from the Bible, liturgical texts, or copies of classical works. They feature wooden covers, frequently reinforced with metal, and are fastened together with clasps. Alternatively, some are bound with leather covers, occasionally embellished with gold and silver, enamels, and precious stones.
It is necessary to keep in mind that the vast majority of men and women in the Middle Ages could not read and did not have the material means to access culture, which was the prerogative of wealthy lords and ecclesiastics. The book then served as a support for the monk’s sacred meditation on scriptures, as entertainment for princes in the form of novels or hunting treaties, and later as a tool for diligent students struggling with a Latin grammar manual. The book is not only a text that takes increasingly varied forms but also a fabulous repertoire of images.
The illustration of devotional books or secular works acquired particular importance during this period: the image accompanies and enriches the text, with the greatest artists participating in the decoration of manuscripts. Painting is in the books!
The history of the book evolved significantly before reaching its definitive form in the Middle Ages. This history fits between two major technical developments: the appearance of the codex in the first century BC and the invention of printing around 1460. In antiquity, writing materials were as varied as they were ingenious: wooden tablets coated with wax, clay tablets, tree bark, silk fabric strips in China, and papyrus scrolls in Egypt, Greece, or Rome. These materials remained in use for writing ephemeral documents, such as the “beresty” rough drafts scribbled on birch bark by Russian merchants.
Writing Materials in the Middle Ages
What were the three main writing materials in the Middle Ages? Papyrus, parchment, and paper. Papyrus, associated with ancient Egypt, from which it originates, remained widely used in the Mediterranean world, particularly by the pontifical chancellery. Around 1051, it was supplanted by parchment (which takes its name from the city of Pergamon in Asia Minor). It spread during the 3rd and 4th centuries due to technical improvements. All kinds of animals could provide skins for their production; goats and sheep produce an ordinary quality called “basane.” Calfskin yields “vellum,” a fine and prized quality but also the most expensive.
The parchment makers settled in cities or near monasteries. The production of parchment is long and meticulous. The skins are sold in bundles, folded in two or four (the fold determines the formats). They can be dyed red or black, with gold or silver letters for luxury manuscripts. The skin is stronger and more resistant to fire; it can be used for bindings or scraped and rewritten.
Paper, which appeared at the end of the Middle Ages, was invented in China around 105 AD, and its dissemination followed the Silk Road. Made from rags soaked in a lime bath, it consists of crossed fibers and stretched-on frames. The use of the paper mill and the press improved its technique. The paper eventually became popular due to its very competitive price (thirteen times cheaper than parchment in the 15th century).
Writings intended to last were transcribed on scrolls of papyrus or parchment. The appearance of the codex (a book of parallelepiped shape mentioned around 84–86 AD) quickly became a real success. More practical than the scroll, it allows writing on a table or desk. Bibles in the form of codices are mentioned as early as the 2nd century.
The Scribes and Their Tools
The scribe is a great specialist in writing, which is a slow and tedious task. They practice on wax tablets that they engrave using a metal, bone, or ivory stylus. To trace their letters on parchment or paper, they have three essential tools: the stylus, a lead, silver, or tin mine used for drafts and drawing lines to present homogeneous pages; the “calamus” (cut reed); and finally, the bird feather pen.
Duck, raven, swan, vulture, or pelican feathers are used for writing, with the best being the goose feather! The scribe cuts the feather with a knife. Strong rhythms, emphasized verticals and finer horizontals, and alternations of full and thin strokes are determined by the cut.
Black ink is obtained by boiling plant substances such as gall nuts and adding lead or iron sulfates.
Red ink is reserved for the titles of works and chapters (this custom gave its name to “rubrics,” a term derived from the Latin “ruber,” meaning red). In the absence of a table of contents, they allow the reader to navigate the manuscript more quickly. It can be divided into sections and distributed to several scribes who share the work to speed up copying.
Illuminations and Miniatures in Medieval Books
The works with illustrations are rare due to their high costs. Illumination serves a dual function: decorative, enhancing the work, and pedagogical, shedding light on the text. The illuminator receives a sheet of parchment already written on it, with spaces delineated by the scribe for painting. Several hands contribute to the manuscript’s decoration: the illuminator of letters, the one of borders, and the “historian” or painter of history who creates the illustrated scenes.
Note
Illumination refers to the decorative elements found in medieval manuscripts, including elaborate borders, initials, and illustrations. These illuminations were often embellished with vibrant colors, gold leaf, and intricate designs.
During the Romanesque period (11th and 12th centuries), capital letters could also serve as frames for genuine compositions, with the ascenders of the initial letter allowing the decoration to develop. In the 14th century, margins became populated with vegetal motifs, acanthus leaves or flower bouquets, real or fantastical animals, characters, coats of arms, and sometimes small scenes in medallions.
The goose feather is the main tool of illuminators. It is cut with a knife, and the width of its flat end determines the line’s width. Pointed reeds, called calamus, are also used. The knife is used to cut feathers or scrape the parchment.
The illuminator uses pigments to paint manuscripts. Some, like red, brown, or yellow ochres, are simple earth pigments. Others, such as orange, red, or brown, come from natural metal deposits.
White is obtained from chalk, lead, or bird bone ashes. The illuminator grinds the pigments into powder, then fixes them on the parchment with glair and beaten egg white. The drawing is traced with a dry point and then inked over. In luxury manuscripts, illuminations are highlighted with gold. Gold powder, mixed with glue, is applied to the parchment and carefully polished.
From Monasteries to Urban Workshops
Concentrated in monasteries during the early centuries, manuscripts (produced in a workshop called a scriptorium) established themselves in cities, giving rise to a genuine book market. Punctuation and word separation appeared in Northern France in the middle of the 11th century, along with the practice of silent reading. Episcopal schools, desired by Charlemagne, developed during the 12th century simultaneously with the growth of cities. Booksellers emerged in the early 13th century; they commissioned manuscripts from scribes and sold them to schoolmasters and the university.
Note
A scriptorium was a dedicated room or area within a monastery or scriptorium where scribes worked on copying manuscripts. It was typically equipped with writing desks, parchment, ink, and other tools necessary for manuscript production.
Booksellers, or stationers, dominated the four trades related to book production: scribes, parchment makers, illuminators, and binders. While the first libraries appeared in monasteries, they later became public or private.
Even if they were not illuminated, books were expensive. After purchasing parchment, one had to pay for copying, a slow and tedious task, and then for binding. Some improvements in manufacturing toward the end of the Middle Ages helped reduce the cost of books: smaller formats, the use of paper, simplification of decoration, and more modest bindings. Booksellers also offered second-hand books.
University Books
Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry
A new readership emerged as a result of the expansion of urban schools in the 12th century and the establishment of universities in the following century. Masters and students alike considered books to be the primary tools of knowledge. Not particularly wealthy, intellectuals of the Middle Ages managed to possess fundamental works; some even assembled a small private library, but most settled for second-hand copies or copied borrowed manuscripts.
The most well-known collection of university books is that founded by Robert de Sorbon (confessor of Louis IX in 1250) for poor students destined for theological studies at the University of Paris (about a thousand volumes). The diversity of images, the richness and whimsy of the decorations, and the world of unalterable colors that time and wear could not tarnish are all elements that explain the fascination that medieval books exert on us.
The distance separating us from their creation and their miraculous preservation make them almost sacred objects, zealously kept by libraries or private collectors. Occasionally, some exhibitions reveal to a dazzled public the richness of this heritage. These works have indelibly marked our vision for this period.
From the elegance and fantasy of the “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry” to the imagination of the “Mozarabic Apocalypses” and Romanesque bibles, all medieval manuscripts introduce us to a dream world as they did centuries ago to their first readers.
University works focused on theology, law, or medicine, while kings, princes, and lords collected volumes dedicated to religious and moral edification, political knowledge, and entertainment (novels, poetry).
Childhood seems to be absent from representations of the Middle Ages. And yet. Medieval iconography is rich in teachings. It is almost enough to open a medieval manuscript in any region, to carefully look at a fresco, or to contemplate sculptures to realize that the child is everywhere. As a simple spectator, one also finds the child at the center of many compositions. The authors of the medieval period were aware of this.
Children in the Middle Ages
The child thus finds his place in the numerous divisions concerning the “ages of life.” Through the writings of Philip de Novara (Les Quatre Ages de l’homme, 1260) or Giles of Rome (De Regimine principum, 1280), we can distinguish a few major stages that are found in iconography, namely: early childhood, itself divided between nfantia and dentum plantatura; once this stage is passed, one enters childhood (7–14 years), then adolescence.
Beyond the correspondence between real ages and those defined by treaties, what has held our attention here concerns the different stages of life that children face. Indeed, for the medieval period, it seems more coherent to apprehend the images based on the message they want to convey rather than trying at all costs to assign an age to a particular character. In other words, one scene shows the act of learning to walk, another the act of playing, or even the apprenticeship of a trade.
Beyond these different scenes, which constitute many stages and sometimes rites of passage, we have also tried to show that the child evolves according to his environment. Indeed, there are multiple ways “to be a child in the Middle Ages.” It is this diversity that we have tried to highlight. Similarly, medieval images help reconstruct part of the material and social environment of the child, as we will see. Finally, through the three “extraordinary childhoods,” it seems obvious that the child, as such, has his rightful place in the culture, both Christian and secular, of the Middle Ages.
In the end, it is childhood, sometimes joyous, sometimes macabre, in the countryside or at the castle, playing with a spinning top or behind the master’s workbench, that we have tried to transcribe here. Through iconography, it is possible to distinguish the different stages that make up children’s lives. Based on scholarly observations while conveying stereotypes, these images are numerous and shed light on the practices and realities of the child’s condition. Thus, being born, learning, and dying are part of the realities of the time.
To Be Born
Iconoclasm as child’s play.
During the Middle Ages, the worst thing for a woman was to be sterile. Within the context of the Virgin, her role was to give as many children as possible, seen as gifts from God. In the procreation system, men still played a role, as treaties encouraged them to drink thistle juice to produce male offspring. The mother was supposed to have a “more beautiful color and lighter movement” if she bore a son.
To ensure good childbirth, one could solicit the Virgin by offering her a candle, preferably on Candlemas Day. Once consumed in the church, it could be brought home and kept close. Indeed, since the 13th century, Marian worship has gained particular importance in the West. She is then associated with both purity and fertility. As the embodiment of motherhood, she is the natural protector of all mothers.
Medical treatises also concern themselves with pregnant women. Some illuminators do not hesitate to depict uteruses in which the fetus is shown in awkward positions. Interestingly, the earliest illuminations depict “asexual” fetuses. Later additions sometimes include male genitalia. A good child is, above all, a male!
Childbirth generally takes place in the presence of midwives, who assist in delivering the newborn. The father is generally absent from the scene, sometimes even excluded from the house. As soon as the baby is born, it must cry, a sign of life. Afterward, it is rubbed with rose petals and salt, and reflexes are checked. Then, a warm water bath can begin. In any case, illuminations clearly show that the infant was eagerly awaited and received with the utmost care.
Learning
Peter Lombard at work.
After birth, the child is baptized as soon as possible, sometimes within the home itself. However, religious baptism remains mandatory and takes place shortly after childbirth, in the presence of the godfather and godmother.
This first major rite marks the integration of the newborn into the Christian community, signaling the beginning of their learning journey.
One of the first significant milestones in their lives is learning to walk. Iconography often portrays the child on all fours, although rarely, as it’s considered too reminiscent of the animal condition. The transition to standing is marked by the use of a walker or “youpala,” which can take various forms. The presence of wheels signifies mobility, albeit not without risks. Typically, speech development follows shortly after.
Another crucial moment is that of “schooling.” Illuminations reflect the reality of various educational practices. From the age of seven, children are entrusted to third parties for education, known as “fosterage” in aristocratic circles. Oblation, authorized until the 15th century, involved entrusting children to monasteries for religious education. Urban schools began to develop during the reign of Charlemagne.
Teachers provide lessons to their students. The medieval notion that school is a ladder to knowledge finds expression in iconography. Upon entering the “petite école,” children learn to read with alphabet tablets. As they progress, they ascend from floor to floor under the guidance of great masters like Peter Lombard. Childhood is indeed the age of learning, vividly represented in iconography.
Illness and Death
Infant mortality rates were very high throughout the Middle Ages. In the late Middle Ages, it was estimated that nearly one out of three children died before reaching the age of five. Death lurks at every moment. Faced with illnesses, parents can abandon everything to go on pilgrimage in hopes of a cure.
Numerous images and stories depict these miracles. For example, there is the case of a six-year-old girl who had been disabled since the age of four but regained her faculties by visiting the tomb of Saint Louis.
Beyond illness or infirmities, there are numerous other causes of death. Foremost among them is the fear of domestic accidents. Fires, for instance, both in cities and in the countryside, cause heavy damage. Wild animals are also feared. Unfortunately, caring mothers or medical remedies are not always sufficient. Iconography also attests to this.
Nevertheless, in the face of death, the reactions of parents, especially mothers, demonstrate how much childhood was valued. Everything was done to protect it.
The Child and His Environment
The child of the city is not the same as the one from the countryside, nor even that of the castle. In each place, there are different ways of representing him. At once actor and spectator, on horseback or perched in a tree, iconography does not fail to clearly distinguish social categories according to defined places. The young peasant is in the fields while the apprentice is busy in the workshop, even as the young noble learns to master his mount.
In the Country
Surprisingly, children from the peasant world are more present in miniatures than in literary texts. In this society, primarily rural—let’s not forget!—the wealth of the peasant lies in his children. Therefore, they must be taken care of closely so that they can quickly assist with agricultural work. For example, boys participate in plowing around the age of ten.
From this countryside youth, we have a witness from the 13th century in the person of the Franciscan Thomas Docking of Oxford. Thus, according to him, the country child “runs sometimes in the fields, sometimes in the garden, sometimes in the orchard, sometimes in the vineyard. He has his favorite moments in the year: in spring, he follows the plowmen and the sowers; in summer and autumn, he accompanies those who pick the grapes.
He enjoys picking unripe grapes; finding birds’ nests; bringing home sheep and poultry while jumping joyfully.” Iconography delights in depicting these children bustling happily with minor agricultural tasks and playing between two physical activities.
But rural life is also dangerous. Besides the large open hearths of the chimneys, wild animals, or even domestic ones like the sow from Falaise, agricultural infrastructures are prone to sometimes deadly accidents. Several tragic accounts mention death by drowning in the mill ponds. Thus, iconography hints at a rural world where children fully participate in agricultural work while being strongly connected to their families.
In the City
The medieval city is a place of intense and bustling activity. Generally, it is after the age of twelve that children enter into the service of an artisan. However, apprenticeship contracts show children as young as eight years old alongside a master who teaches them the basics of their future trade, building upon the mechanical arts already learned. In the margins of certain manuscripts, child cooks, carpenters, or blacksmiths are seen busy with difficult and thankless tasks.
The city is also where the hardships of the times are perhaps most keenly felt. The episode of the plague in 1348 contributed to the impoverishment of the urban world. Children suffer from epidemics, malnutrition, and even famine. In this context, begging becomes prevalent. The beggar will have a better chance of evoking sympathy from the nobles who practice charity by giving alms if they have a child with them.
But the city can also transform into a vast open-air playground. Left to their own devices, children and young adolescents watch the fish along the streams before diving in themselves to frolic in the water. As soon as they’re done, they rush straight to the nearby square to admire the spectacle of the bear showman. Taken over by the children for a game, the medieval city then takes on the appearance of a merry dance. In the end, the iconography reflects both the difficulties and dangers faced by children, as well as the playful or amusing nature of these merry groups of children who take over the places.
In the Castle
In the medieval castle, chivalrous and courteous education is imparted. Past the age of eight, boys are separated from their families to join the court of a lord of higher rank than their father. They then enter another universe, one of the cavalcades, stables, armories, hunts, ambushes, and masculine frolics. Illustrious children such as the King of Naples, Louis II of Anjou, are depicted in royal postures proportional to their size. Thus, if he rides a palfrey before the gates of Paris, the young king has a mount his size.
It is also at the castle that young nobles learn the art of hunting. This aristocratic practice is taught from the age of 7, although 12 seems more appropriate. In the wealthiest circles, children are spared so as not to hinder their development. As seen, children are generally tasked with brushing the dogs or preparing nets while observing their elders.
Still, within the castle, young pages receive education from a great lord to serve with honor. The life of a young page under Louis XII is not so rigid. We see him here and there playing with a small monkey, very much in vogue in the courts of the 14th century. The castle is also a place of pleasure where the child has his place. The education provided there aims to acquire the knowledge necessary for power under the guidance of a pedagogue, as we see here. Ultimately, the castle’s environment is not foreign to children.
On the contrary, they are integrated into aristocratic activities to acquire the codes and abilities to maintain their status.
Daily Life for Children in the Middle Ages
Among the numerous images featuring children, many of them offer glimpses into their daily lives. Sometimes at the center of the image and thus the focus of attention, other times on the margins, the place of the child within these representations is always rich in information that often coincides with contemporary textual sources. Thus, during childhood, dressing, playing, and eating are frequently staged in iconography.
Garment
Everything in a child’s attire is useful but also codified. From the “mantel” the placenta forms to the protective cradle, the goal is always to protect the child. Two types of clothing are identifiable during infancy. In early childhood, there are swaddling clothes. The attire may vary from one place to another (e.g., the mantellino with buttons in Italy) but shares common features. In Italy, spiral-striped shirts (= mummy) are notable, while elsewhere, the stripes appear looser.
The newborn’s trousseau is simple. Initially, the infant is wrapped in a linen cloth against the skin, further covered by a thicker fabric. The purpose of swaddling is to ensure proper body formation, which is deemed malleable at that stage. Ultimately, the newborn’s attire must be both comfortable and protective.
The transition from swaddling to a gown was gradual. Before the child walks, the arms are first freed in a half-swaddle. The gown, or cotte, comes into play before walking age, around one year, allowing the child time to become accustomed to their limbs. Once the child stands with the help of a walker, a long gown reaching the feet can be worn.
Between two and seven years old, the gown shortens to enable more extensive play and movement. From seven to fourteen years old, the clothing adjusts to size. Wearing a leather belt and boots generally signals the transition to a higher stage.
The color of the clothing is not arbitrary. Red and green are particularly favored. Red is believed to protect against hemorrhages, the plague, and especially measles. Moreover, aristocratic children wear a piece of red coral around their neck, possessing apotropaic value. Green is more associated with the idea of youth and the festivities of May.
Game
The game is present in all environments. Its purpose is to contribute to the strengthening of the child, their education, and their socialization. Thus, the phenomenon of the child alone with their toys is not a medieval characteristic.
Play primarily occurs in society. Many toys are handmade. Many of them are related to the commercial domain, such as the spinning top, the miniature dinner set, small merchant boats, or even the miniature plow. Others, of course, are related to war and chivalrous culture.
Several forms of amusement are distinguished, evolving according to age. Initially, the child learns to play with their body, like the infant Jesus playing with his foot or the little putti discovering their intimacy. Play quickly becomes collective and sometimes, frankly, scatological.
In a series of illuminations depicting children’s games, one can see little boys and girls playing while urinating in a pot. Others use objects that mimic nature, like the ball imitating fruit or the whistle imitating a bird. Outdoor games adapt to their environment (hopscotch, marbles, palaces, etc.). Another major game is the hobby horse. Faced off, two young boys imitate their elders, who truly joust.
All these games were to be played under the close supervision of a nurse or parents. Nevertheless, their function is primarily to promote the integration of children into society while playfully preparing them for their future activities.
Food
In addition to the mother or nurse, the father also played a role in the child’s nutrition. Similar to Joseph, fathers were responsible for preparing porridge made from flour to fortify the child’s body.
This flour paste, known as “papin,” was often supplemented with honeyed bread, goat milk (considered closest to breast milk), and a small amount of wine.
Various dishes were dedicated to this purpose, including special jars used as bottles and clay horns for breastfeeding. The horn, besides milk, could also deliver a small amount of wine, which may seem surprising today. However, it was heated beforehand to extract tannins known for treating infant diarrhea.
The weaning process was gradual, transitioning from breastfeeding to porridge consumption. By the age of two, children could consume a more regular diet, including boiled foods, eggs, cooked apples, wine, and poultry. They could even participate in banquets and receptions.
In iconography and literature, the crust of bread often symbolizes childhood.
Extraordinary Childhoods
The Infant Jesus
Throughout the Middle Ages, the representation of the Nativity underwent evolution. By the late Middle Ages, the scene typically unfolded in a stable where the ox and the donkey were included, despite their absence from the Gospels.
The shepherds and their animals congregated around the Holy Family to commemorate the Lord’s arrival, having received a warning from an angel. Subsequently, the Magi arrived to present gifts to the infant Jesus. The number of Magi depicted varied over time in iconography.
According to Jacques de Voragine, Melchior, depicted with white hair, symbolized gold and royalty; Gaspar, represented with red, offered incense from Asia; and Balthazar, with a black face, brought myrrh, symbolizing the Son’s eventual death. Similarly, various representations of the Virgin and Child existed.
The presentation of Jesus in the temple corresponds to a passage from the Old Testament indicating that “every firstborn male shall be consecrated to the Lord” [Exodus 13:2, 11–13]. An elderly man named Simeon received the infant Jesus. At the age of twelve, Jesus was discovered in the Temple conversing with the doctors. Upon being found by his mother, he responded, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my father’s house?” [Luke 2:40–50].
Hence, medieval iconography depicted all episodes of the infant Jesus’ life.
Merlin: Half-man, Half-demon
The conception of Merlin as depicted in a circa 1494 manuscript of the Prose Lancelot.
Merlin is the son of a princess impregnated during her sleep by an incubus demon. The sexual power of the demon is suggested in some illuminations by a cacophony of other demons. Merlin is, by nature, half-diabolical.
The son of a devil who deceived a virtuous woman, Merlin knows the past and the future. He reveals himself differently from birth: an astonishing newborn covered in hair, he lives secluded in a tower with two servants and his mother, who will await a witchcraft trial for two years, which could lead her to the stake.
Meanwhile, the child has been lowered into a basket to be baptized in the presence of a curious crowd that will accompany him throughout the journey. The visual procession of baptism emphasizes the integration of the devil’s son into the Christian community and thus dispels the suspicions that weigh upon him.
Two men are putting the stake together close by in a room with a low wall separating them. These preparations weigh like a threat and seem to indicate that the verdict is known in advance.
But this is without counting on the extraordinary talents that Merlin will display during the trial held at the top of the tent. Merlin, now two years old, wears an orange robe and raises his arm to defend his mother. An exceptional orator and jurist, he argues before the prosecutor and the three judges, whom he accuses in turn, revealing their secrets and denouncing their bias. He manages to have his mother’s innocence recognized.
He serves as the intermediary between the group of women and the men of law, just as he symbolized in his younger years the exchange between the top of the tower cut off from the world and the churchyard where the baptism is celebrated outdoors and in public.
The play of colors is also interesting. The orange hue of Merlin’s robe, the same color as the justice tent, highlights an essential characteristic of the character: a public figure, a man of words, Merlin saves his mother through his eloquence and upholds a higher justice.
In contrast, the yellow of the men preparing the stake symbolizes disorder in medieval times.
Lancelot: The Best Knight in the World
Lancelot is the son of King Ban of Benoic, a vassal of Arthur, and Queen Helen. He spent his early childhood surrounded by his cousins, the sons of Bohort de Gaunes. But one day, the terrible Claudas assaults his family, forcing them to flee. Upon seeing the burning castle, Ban of Benoic, his loving father, dies of grief at the thought of what will happen to his family.
In their flight, as they have just found a place to rest, Queen Helen sees the arrival of the fairy Viviane, who dangerously approaches Lancelot’s cradle. She manages to steal the young child and rushes toward a lake, where she jumps on her feet first.
From the age of three, “The Lady [of the Lake] taught him and provided him with a master who taught him how to fight and conduct himself as a nobleman.” From then on, Lancelot is not quite like his peers. At one point in his education, he argues with his tutor. Angry, the master strikes his greyhound. In response, the young and fiery knight smashes his bow over the bad master’s head. The Lady of the Lake intervenes and sides with Lancelot, who, from then on, needs no one and can judge the best and noblest behavior.
After some exploits, Lancelot goes to King Arthur’s court to receive his knighthood, a rite of passage marking entry into a higher stage. Childhood is over, making way for youth, tournaments, and chivalrous feats.
A vambrace was a personal protective gear of the Middle Ages, part of an armor that protected the hands from the wrists to the elbows. The most basic, first vambraces belonged to the splint armor. Just like the armor, it had metal plates fixed to a leather or cloth foundation. The earliest vambrace was discovered in a Scythian (a proto-Turkic tribe) grave from the 4th century BC.
Construction
A 19th-century depiction of an Eastern European vambrace by Viskovatov A.V. (1801–1892).
Vambraces (or “forearm guards”) were made of leather, iron, and copper, similar to the other protective medieval gears like the breastplate, elbow guard, bracer, gauntlet, and poleyn (knee guard).
The full-metal vambraces, said to have originated in West Asia, eventually superseded the splint armor variant. The tubular vambraces were the most advanced of all.
The elbow (upper) and forearm (lower) plates of such a version were quite curved. These two plates could be fastened together using straps and buckles.
An aventail, vambrace, and poleyn by Viskovatov A.V. (1801–1892)
Vambrace vs. Bracer
The word “vambrace” (also known as “lower cannons”) is used to refer to the complete “sleeve armor” whereas the portion of the armor that extends from the wrist to the elbow is referred to as just “bracer“.
History of the Vambraces
Central Asia and India
A decoration on a shield found in the remains of a small castle on Mount Mugh indicates that tubular vambraces were in use in Iran as early as the 8th century. During this time, there were battles between Turks, Chinese, Sogdians, Arabs, Khwarezmians, and Persians for control of this area.
Only during the first half of the 15th century did vambraces with familiar styles emerge. They quickly gained popularity, first in the Indian and other Islamic armies. The plates that made up these vambraces could be secured by straps and chainmail or they could be hinged.
By the 16th century, some vambraces included two or three plates that rested on the arm instead of only one. Occasionally, specimens from these areas began to have distinctive traits. Al-Ashraf Qansuh al-Ghuri’s vambraces from the 15th century appeared to be made up of two pieces of chainmail and cloth.
In 1711, Indians used vambraces consisting of iron and bronze plates with an inner plate to distribute pressure more evenly throughout the rings of chainmail. More elaborate variations, which covered the dorsal side of the hand as well as the fingers, began to vanish around the 15th century for some reason.
Western Europe
Vambrace for left arm, c. 1380–1400, steel, copper alloy.
Artifacts from the Vendel Period (540–790 AD) in Swedish history have been discovered that are consistent with European strap-type vambraces.
They found usage in Kievan Rus’ as well. Probably sewed with an overlap onto a cloth base, these vambraces had a succession of long, thin, somewhat curved iron plates measuring about 12 by 0.4 inches (30 by 1 cm).
Vambraces first appeared in Europe due to an influx of ideas from the East. Arm protection plates initially emerged in the early 1200s, followed by tubular vambraces in the 1250s and 1260s, and finally hinged vambraces in the first part of the 1300s. The findings from Bornholm in Denmark are the oldest (14th-century) examples of this style to be discovered.
The use of plate armor to protect the limbs began in Europe as a result of the refinement of vambraces and greaves. The first vambraces in Europe were developed to fill the gap between the elbow guard and the plate glove, or gauntlet.
Eastern Europe
Articulated tubular vambraces with hinges were utilized as a distinct piece of armor in Eastern Europe, just as they were in West Asia. Their basic construction was similar to that of medieval Rus’ vambraces called “bazubands.”
Sometimes they were used together with a lining or chainmail gauntlets. Noblemen typically paired a mirror with their vambraces since they were a symbol of wealth and social status at the time. Their vambraces were embellished with engravings, silver, gold, and valuable stones.
They were also occasionally made out of Damascus steel. The mounted troops of Muscovite Rus’ often wore them, and with a cuirass, they were standard issue for Polish cavalrymen.
This set (cuirass and vambrace) first arrived in other European nations in the 17th century, thanks to Poland’s cultural impact. The vambrace’s extended upper half would sometimes reach beyond the wearer’s elbow for extra protection.
Russia
A 17th-century Russian infantryman with bardiche, vambrace, chainmail armor, and a saber or shashka. (Image)
Influenced by the Turkic nations to the east, the Rus’ began using and making tubular vambraces with hinges about the year 1200. Vambraces from the Sahnovka village in the Middle Dnieper area and the Gomel area are among the archaeological artifacts that have been linked to the Mongol invasions of Kievan Rus’.
The only real difference between these and subsequent vambraces was that the latter were not curved as much. They were adorned with gold and valuable stones and were crafted from steel, red bulat steel, and iron.
China and Mongolia
Vambraces were also part of late Chinese and Mongolian defensive arsenals, also known as khuiag or kuyak. Two curved metal plates and a metal elbow guard were sewed onto cloth to form this plate armor. There were either buttons or buckles to secure them.
Japan
The kote (籠手, armored sleeve) vambrace, originally designed for the left hand, was first introduced in Japan in the 1200s. It was a thick fabric sleeve with connected plates that covered the back of the hand, the forearm, and the outside portion of the arm from the elbow to the wrist. The practice of covering both arms with vambraces in Japan dates back to the 13th century. Later kotes used chainmail for further protection at the elbow.
References
Featured image: Fedor Grigoryevich Solntsev (1801–1892), Antiquities of the Russian State.
Many people have a great misunderstanding of archers, especially those who have been influenced by games, movies, and TV shows, particularly fantasy movies such as The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings. Many people think that medieval archers were similar to elves in the movies—slender and delicate. Some even believe that archers in history were fragile and were only capable of shooting arrows in battle.
According to this misconception, archers use numerous arrows to kill a single enemy, quickly retreat if the enemy gets closer, and leave the field to the close combat soldiers. Because if the enemy breaks through the archers’ position, the fragile archers would be unable to resist and would disperse. Although many people have such a stereotype, it is largely a fallacy. Once you understand the amount of force medieval archers had to use to draw a bow, you will realize that it takes a great deal of strength to be an archer.
The Archers of West
Pulling traditional bows (including all kinds of medieval bows and arrows) requires a great deal of strength, as the draw weight of war bows was quite high. The famous English longbowmen, who fought in the Hundred Years’ War against France, had great combat achievements that made many people think that the knights who were rampant in medieval Europe were powerful looking but actually weak in combat.
Do you know how difficult it was to pull the English longbow used by longbowmen? The unit of measurement used for this is called the “bow draw weight.”
The bow used by English longbowmen on the battlefield was a one-piece bow, with the entire bow body mostly made from a single piece of yew wood bent into a curve. Its length was approximately between 5.9 and 6.6 feet (1.8 and 2 meters). The yew wood is hard and elastic but not easy to bend. So, the bow must be made longer. This makes the English longbow, although a one-piece bow, very powerful and have tremendous killing power.
In order to ensure killing power and armor-piercing ability, the English longbows used on the battlefield generally had a pull weight of 120 pounds (54.5 kg) or more. Archaeologists have replicated some longbows using the same materials as those found on sunken ships, and the draw weights of these longbows were measured to be between 120 pounds and 160 pounds (54.5 to 72.5 kg) and even higher weights.
Such a high draw weight of the longbow means that archers had to have equal or even greater strength; otherwise, they would not be able to draw the longbow at all. These figures are the minimum force required for a person to draw the longbow (a.k.a., war bow). Not an exact comparison, but imagine a person who lifts a weight of 120 to 160 pounds (54.5 to 72.5 kg) with one hand; can they be slender and weak? The archers of history were never as vulnerable and fragile as they are stereotyped in popular culture.
The Archers of East
There are more ways to understand how strong archers were in reality. Let’s take a look at the archers of another nation whose people are often smaller in stature. Chinese medieval archers were equally impressive as the Western archers. Although the Song Dynasty (960–1279) had the powerful weapon of the huge repeating crossbow mounted on walls and ships, the Song army also attached great importance to archers and bows. The draw weight of the Song Dynasty’s bows was measured in “dou” and “shi” (pronounced “dan” where ten dou equals one shi), with war bows generally classified as “eight dou”, “one shi”, or “one and two thirds shi”.
One shi during the Song Dynasty was equivalent to 92.5 Song jin (one Song jin being equal to 640 grams or 1.41 pounds), which means that Song Dynasty bows of eight dou, one shi, and one and two thirds shi were approximately equivalent to bows with a weight of 90 pounds (41 kg), 130 pounds (59 kg), and 180 pounds (82 kg), respectively.
During the early Song Dynasty, one jin (a unit of weight) was equivalent to 680 grams, but by the middle of the Northern Song period, it had been standardized at 640 grams. By the early Southern Song period, it had decreased to around 625 grams. The weight standard used in this calculation is based on the Northern Song period standard, and the legendary Chinese general Yue Fei was said to be able to draw a bow with a draw force of three shi, making him a remarkable archer.
During the Qing dynasty, the longbow used for archery was standardized at a weight of 100 pounds (around 45 kg). In the military exams, there were several tests related to archery, such as shooting while standing or while riding a horse. The first test in the martial arts exam was pulling a bow. For this, a “strength bow” was provided for the examinees to pull. Although the strength bow was not used in real combat, it was an important tool to measure the archers’ strength and martial arts skills. The examinee archers could try three times, and the score was based on whether they could pull the bow to full draw above their heads.
During the Qing dynasty, “strength” was used as the unit of measurement for bow draw force. One strength was equal to 5.85 kilograms, or approximately 13 pounds. The strength bows used in the martial arts exam were divided into four grades. A strength of more than 12 (approx. 156 lbs; 70 kg) was called “outstanding,” or “tiger strength.” 12 strength was called “number one,” 10 strength (approx. 130 lbs; 58.5 kg) was called “number two,” and 8 strength (approx. 104 lbs; 47 kg) was called “number three.”
After the mid-Qing dynasty, in order to prevent examinees from showing off and getting injured, they were generally not allowed to try bows with a pulling force of 15 or more (approx. 195 pounds; 88 kg).
Muscles Used in Archery
Latissimus dorsi.
Contrary to popular belief, the main body parts used in archery are not the arms, but rather the back muscles, specifically the latissimus dorsi. This means that a qualified medieval archer was usually a big, strong person with a large frame and strong muscles, much stronger than many modern people. In order to pull the bow back, it is necessary to use the back muscles in a similar way to doing a one-armed dumbbell row. Therefore, an archer’s physique was not actually slim and agile as often depicted in movies and games, but rather a big and strong one compared to an average human.
Most people today learn archery by practicing with a 15-pound soft bow and start using a 30- to 40-pound stiff bow only after gaining some experience. After some time, most people mainly use a 55-pound traditional bow for practice. And do not think that a bow of this weight is easy to pull. If you have no training, even pulling a 30-pound bow can be very difficult, and almost all inexperienced beginners cannot pull it to full draw.
To put into perspective how strong archers are, a person who is around 5 feet, 11 inches (180 cm) tall and weighs around 175 pounds (80 kg) will find it difficult to pull a traditional bow that is around 65 pounds fully drawn. One cannot imagine how medieval archers, who used to use bows with 100 pounds of draw weight, would have had slender and delicate bodies. In movies, the actors who play archers make it look effortless, but that is only because they use props that do not require much strength. Even children can pull those bows.
Were Archers Vulnerable in Combat?
People believe that archers in history were vulnerable in close combat because they expended all their strength by pulling the bowstring, which was already too hard. Additionally, it is believed that archers always had to wear light clothing and no armor to facilitate the difficulty of pulling the bow since they would not fight against heavily armored infantry anyway.
This view seems reasonable, but it is actually incorrect. First, medieval archers on the battlefield would not have had many opportunities to shoot arrows if they did not occupy advantageous positions. In a head-on battle, archers would typically only shoot three arrows before the enemy approached, as the range of a bow was only around 660 to 990 feet (200 to 300 meters). All infantries could quickly get over such a short distance. Therefore, archers often shot only a few arrows before the enemy arrived.
Why Did Archers Wear Light Armor?
How is it possible for archers, who have only fired a few arrows, to feel fatigued during a battle? The idea that archers wore light clothing and no armor to facilitate shooting arrows does have some truth to it, but it also depends on the circumstances and location. In Europe, for example, most archers did not wear plate armor on their upper bodies after the introduction of plate armor, nor did they wear iron gauntlets, as plate armor was inconvenient for archers and interfered with their ability to exert force. However, other types of armor, such as chainmail (see lorica hamata), did not have this problem.
In contrast to the problem faced by European archers when wearing plate armor, ancient Chinese archers did not have this issue. Because the Chinese armor used was already designed to facilitate archery. One reason why Chinese armor did not include iron gauntlets was to enable archers to shoot arrows easily.
Some Archers Actually Wore Heavy Armor
One can easily observe from surviving Chinese paintings, murals, and sculptures that so-called archers were fully equipped with heavy armor and helmets. For instance, even heavy cavalry in full body armor in the painting “Emperor Taizong’s Campaign Against the Eastern Turks” carried bows and arrows. The Tang Dynasty military treatise “New Book of Tang” described the Tang army’s equipment and weapons, which included bows, various melee weapons, armor, and helmets, but only soldiers with garrison duties were not provided with armor:
“The Tang soldiers equipped themselves with a bow, thirty arrows, a Hu-Lu (a container for holding arrows), a horizontal knife, a whetstone, a quiver, a felt hat, a felt garment, and rattan shoes. They brought their own nine dou of wheat and two dou of rice. All their armor and weapons were stored in the warehouse. When they went out, they received them before departure. Only those who guarded the outpost were provided with bows, arrows, and horizontal knives.”
New Book of Tang, Volume 50, Military Provisions
The Chinese poet Du Fu also described the Tang army’s bow and arrow equipment in his poem “Ballad of the Army Carts“: Wagons rattling and banging, horses neighing and snorting, conscripts marching, each with bow and arrows at his hip.” This indicates that the Tang army did indeed provide each soldier with a bow.
The record of military campaigns and “Taiwan Foreign Records” both provide clear descriptions of General Koxinga’s army structure and weapon equipment. They mention that the elite Iron Man Army of Koxinga’s forces had not only sturdy iron helmets, armor, and other protective gear but that each soldier also carried a bow and a variety of weapons for both long-range and close combat. In addition, they were equipped with fearsome horse-chopping broadswords that were carried by hand:
In February, the bravest and strongest soldiers were selected as Koxinga’s personal troops, and they trained at the Yandwu Pavilion in Xiamen Port. They could each pull a bow up to 500 jin (550 lbs; 250 kg) and still move around freely on the training grounds. With the help of a skilled technician named Feng Chengshi, they wore thick iron helmets, armor, gauntlets, skirts, and shoes that arrows could not penetrate. They also wore iron masks that covered only the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, decorated with colorful patterns resembling ghostly figures, and wielded horse-chopping broadswords.”
Taiwan Foreign Records, Volume Four.
Therefore, archers in history—especially medieval archers—were not completely defenseless in close combat. They had combat capabilities and could switch to using melee weapons such as swords and spears. However, their fighting ability depended on the quality of their armor and their organization, such as the tightness of their formation and whether they could form a battle formation when the enemy attacked.
A significant number of individuals, especially those who have been exposed to prevalent media such as movies, television, and video games, harbor a misconception about archers. The portrayal of archers in such media as feeble and susceptible has led people to believe that historical archers were often defenseless in close combat due to their lightweight attire and lack of armor. Furthermore, the belief that archers wore light clothing to offset the strenuous act of pulling the bowstring, which demanded immense strength, reinforces this misconception. Additionally, people assume that archers avoided confrontations with heavily armored infantry altogether. Although these notions may appear logical, they are not truly accurate.
The Way Archers Are Positioned on the Battlefield
In the Middle Ages, archers would have had limited opportunities to shoot arrows if they were not positioned advantageously on the battlefield.
During a direct engagement, archers typically fired only three arrows before the enemy approached since the effective range of a bow was only about 650 to 1,000 feet (200 to 300 meters).
Given that all infantries could cover such a short distance swiftly, archers had to be strategic in their approach and often discharged only a handful of arrows before the enemy was upon them.
Did All Archers Really Wear Light Armor?
Despite only firing a few arrows in a battle, archers can still experience fatigue due to the physical demands of drawing the bowstring and maintaining a constant state of readiness. The notion that archers donned light clothing and no armor to enhance their arrow shooting ability does hold some truth, but it also varies depending on the specific battlefield conditions and tactics employed.
In Europe, for example, most archers did not wear plate armor on their upper bodies after the introduction of heavy armor, nor did they wear iron gauntlets, as plate armor was inconvenient for archers and interfered with their ability to exert force. However, other types of armor, such as chainmail (see lorica hamata), did not have this problem.
The European knights, being more inclined towards direct confrontation, donned full-body metallic armor on their horses. In contrast, the European archers prioritized their agility and were less prone to battle. Thus, they opted for lighter protection, typically fashioned from leather, and padded or quilted materials.
Exceptions
In contrast to the problem faced by European archers when wearing plate armor, medieval Chinese archers did not have this problem. Chinese armor was indeed crafted with archery in mind, as evidenced by the absence of iron gauntlets, which would have hindered an archer’s ability to shoot arrows smoothly.
This design decision highlights how the Chinese recognized the importance of archery on the battlefield and tailored their armor accordingly to accommodate it.
Archers Also Wore Heavy Armor
Mural of Tang soldiers. 7th century AD. Archers in heavy armor with quivers on their belt. Image: Wikimedia.
One can easily observe from surviving Chinese paintings, murals, and sculptures that their medieval archers were fully equipped with heavy armor and helmets.
For instance, even heavy cavalry in full body armor in the painting “Emperor Taizong’s Campaign Against the Eastern Turks” carried bows and arrows.
The Tang Dynasty military treatise “New Book of Tang” described the Tang army’s equipment and weapons, which included bows, various melee weapons, armor, and helmets, but only soldiers with garrison duties were not provided with armor:
“The Tang soldiers equipped themselves with a bow, thirty arrows, a Hu-Lu (a container for holding arrows), a horizontal knife, a whetstone, a quiver, a felt hat, a felt garment, and rattan shoes. They brought their own nine dou of wheat and two dou of rice. All their armor and weapons were stored in the warehouse. When they went out, they received them before departure. Only those who guarded the outpost were provided with bows, arrows, and horizontal knives.”
New Book of Tang, Volume 50, Military Provisions
The Chinese poet Du Fu also described the Tang army’s bow and arrow equipment in his poem “Ballad of the Army Carts“: Wagons rattling and banging, horses neighing and snorting, conscripts marching, each with bow and arrows at his hip.” This indicates that the Tang army did indeed provide each soldier with a bow, armored or not.
The record of military campaigns and “Taiwan Foreign Records” both provide clear descriptions of General Koxinga’s army structure and weapon equipment.
They mention that the elite Iron Man Army of Koxinga’s forces had not only sturdy iron helmets, armor, and other protective gear but that each soldier also carried a bow and a variety of weapons for both long-range and close combat.
In addition, they were equipped with fearsome horse-chopping broadswords that were carried by hand:
“In February, the bravest and strongest soldiers were selected as Koxinga’s personal troops, and they trained at the Yandwu Pavilion in Xiamen Port. They could each pull a bow up to 500 jin (550 lbs; 250 kg) and still move around freely on the training grounds. With the help of a skilled technician named Feng Chengshi, they wore thick iron helmets, armors, gauntlets, skirts, and shoes that arrows could not penetrate. They also wore iron masks that covered only the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, decorated with colorful patterns resembling ghostly figures, and wielded horse-chopping broadswords.”
Taiwan Foreign Records, Volume Four.
Conclusion
Therefore, archers in history—especially medieval archers—were not completely defenseless in close combat. They had combat capabilities and could switch to using melee weapons such as swords and spears. However, their fighting ability depended on the quality of their armor and their organization, such as the tightness of their formation and whether they could form a battle formation when the enemy attacked.
It’s a common saying or tale that’s told over and over again: “People died young in the Middle Ages!” Alternately: “You would be an old man in the Middle Ages at the age of 40!” The average life expectancy of a medieval man is often mentioned in both popular and academic works, as well as in schoolbooks and pedagogical materials on medieval life. Somewhere between 33 and 50 years for males and 25 and 40 years for women is often cited as the average lifespan for Middle Age people; however, this range may vary greatly, as seen by a cursory examination of the available data.
It is unclear not only how these numbers were compiled but also whether they apply to the early, high, or late Middle Ages, to a certain location, or to a specific socioeconomic group.
How Long Did People Live in the Middle Ages?
Monks and nuns in the Middle Ages had much longer life expectancies. Medieval monks in a beer cellar, by Joseph Haier (1873). Source: Wikimedia.
The “Middle Ages” are now to be interpreted as “the dark, backward, unhygienic, unenlightened period before modernity,” when people’s lives were short and difficult, full of sickness and filth, and dominated by a foreign church and ruler. But this cliche has been disproven many times. What can we say with certainty about the average lifespan in the Middle Ages?
No, you did not suddenly begin getting gray hair at the age of 20. A person who made it to maturity could expect to live for a long time beyond the age of 35 during the Middle Ages.
In the 15th century, the median age of the French infantry was 32, and 51 percent were 31 or older. As usual, we know very little about the lives of the poor and working classes in the Middle Ages. Their birth and death dates, as well as the number of children they produced, are unknown. Only by chance do things about people’s lives in the Middle Ages come out in directories of landlords, chronicles, and other written sources.
But famous names are an exception to this norm. To give a rather arbitrary example, Charlemagne lived to be 66 or 67 years old, while his biographer Einhard lived to be about 70. The Flemish poet Jacob van Maerlant lived for approximately 60 years.
It is estimated that the Holy Roman Empire bishop and scholar Albertus Magnus lived to be 80, the saint Hildegard von Bingen to be 81, the author Christine de Pizan to be at least 65, Eleanor of Aquitaine to have perhaps died at 82, and the Nuremberg master builder Endres Tucher to have died soon after his 84th birthday.
On the other hand, it is also easy to name instances of renowned people’s children who died at a young age themselves, whether in puberty or youth. So, what do these numbers suggest? Did people really die young or only live to an average age of 35 in the Middle Ages?
Life Expectancy From the 13th to the 18th Centuries
A 21-year-old in the 15th century had a minimum life expectancy of 69 years. Henry VIII in the Battle of Spurs. (Image: Enhanced from a public image on Gutenberg.org)
The Australian mathematical statistician Henry Oliver Lancaster looked into the lifespan of English aristocrats from 1200 to 1745. He determined the life expectancy of individuals who died of old age or sickness by omitting those who died through violence, accidents, or poison.
A 21-year-old in the 15th century had a minimum life expectancy of 69 years. Citizens between the ages of 16 and 60 were eligible to serve in the militia, meaning that all adults up to that age were deemed physically and mentally capable of participating in military service.
Henry Lancaster compares how long people have lived across different time periods:
During the Middle Ages, most deaths occurred in three age groups: Young children (0–5) from childhood diseases; young adults from war or childbirth; and the elderly (60+), who lived to an age that was considered old according to the Bible’s lifespan of 70 years. The medieval people who lived to the age of 25 were not old, but they were a group affected by the most unpredictable factors: war and childbirth deaths.
In common with other pre-modern nations, medieval people had little medical expertise and a high mortality rate overall. In adolescence, life expectancy started to differ between the sexes, despite continuing to rise with age.
When boys reached the ages of 15 and 16, life expectancy was estimated at 60 to 80 years. However, mothers (especially the girl-mothers) were at increased risk for difficulties during delivery. The future King Edward I was born to Henry III (1207–1272) and his 16-year-old bride Eleanor.
Painting by Rita Greer, depicting the Great Plague of 1665 in London. (Image, FAL)
Natural calamities and illnesses like the Black Death significantly reduced the life expectancy of the medieval people, yet certain individuals, like the Doge of Venice, Enrico Dandolo (1107–1205), lived to be 90 years old and commanded the Venetian navy.
In the Middle Ages, a person’s lifespan depended on a variety of factors, including their environment, genetics, diet, health, and access to medical care, as well as their socioeconomic status (same as today).
According to the Nuremberg City Library archives, a medieval citizen, a stonemason, lived in central Europe from the time he was 68 until his death in 1595.
Monks and nuns of the Middle Ages, for example, had far higher life expectancy statistics than the general population since they did not rely on landlords for hard physical work. So, they were able to live much longer than other citizens.
Reasons for the Short Lifespan Estimates in the Middle Ages
The truth is that the average life expectancy in the Middle Ages actually says little about the actual age of death of a large portion of the population, the expected or achievable age, or the distribution of the average age.
Because child mortality rates in medieval times were quite high, they dragged down the overall life expectancy average.
This calls for statistics, but due to a lack of data, accurate statistics cannot be generated. In principle, most medieval individuals could indeed pass away by age 40, given that this is the median lifespan (give or take a few years). In reality, however, there is a much wider variation. While many medieval children died as infants due to illness, malnutrition, accidents, and other causes, another not insignificant number lived to a ripe old age at this time.
The high infant mortality rate, which was mostly attributable to illnesses or a lack of medical knowledge and treatment, an improper or insufficient diet, poor cleanliness, delivery problems, and sudden infant death syndrome, was a key factor in the fabrication of these short lifespan statistics for the Middle Ages.
According to the estimations, up to 40 percent of children died before they reached puberty during the medieval period, and another 10 to 20 percent died within their first year.
However, if one made it through their youth unscathed in the Middle Ages, their chances of living to be 50, 60, or even older were not terrible. But threats to human safety from things like violence, war, disease, starvation, and accidents persisted.
Medieval women had to deal with the added stress of having many children, while males had to contend with the risks of strenuous manual work, both of which might drastically reduce their lifespans relative to modern times. Today, smoking, cancer, cardiovascular disease, and diabetes are only a few examples of the many contemporary risk factors that either have little impact or none at all on our lifespan.
When Was Someone Considered Old in the Middle Ages?
People living all the way to retirement age or a greater old age were not uncommon in the Middle Ages. Depending on the time period and the historian, the phases of medieval life were defined in various ways. However, in general, a person was regarded as an adult (adultus) from the ages of 21 to 40, a “mature” (maturus) from the ages of 41 to 60, and an elderly man from 61 and beyond (senectus).
Thus, the perception of old age and young age was pretty similar in the Middle Ages to what it is today.
Many teenagers commonly took the lead in combat throughout the Middle Ages, and 25 was considered a mature adult, typically with a family and responsibilities. It was no surprise at the time that William the Conqueror invaded England in his late 30s.
Since it does not take into account things like deaths from sickness, the average life expectancy might be deceptive. A longer life expectancy of 60 years includes more elderly individuals but also more children who live beyond the age of 5.
Due to the lengthy apprenticeship and journeyman’s time required, few urban craftsmen would have been able to earn the master’s title and open their own workshop before the age of 30 or 40. Ages 40 and up were traditionally seen as the cutoff for serious consideration for public office because of the inherent “maturity” that comes with them.
However, the exception proves the rule, as typically only those who were considered “worthy” were granted any office role.
So, in the Middle Ages, people who were 40 were not considered “old,” even though a hardworking farmer, craftsman, or day laborer might have thought otherwise.
The samurai is one of the most iconic figures associated with the history of medieval Japan. One of the most intriguing and memorable eras in the history of the Empire of the Rising Sun is the time of feudalism and civil wars. But all that preceded was plunged into the shade. As the 19th century drew to a close, the question of how Japan developed into a feudal empire sparked widespread interest. Together, let’s explore the ancient Japanese past, from prehistory to the rise of the imperial shogunate.
At the Dawn of Japanese History: The Jōmon Period (14000 BC–300 BC)
Reconstruction of a Yayoi period house in Kyushu.
The Shinto goddess Amaterasu was said to have provided the divine ancestry for the Japanese imperial family, giving them the right to rule the country. The Empire was just imperial in name at first, though.
While evidence of human habitation in Japan can be traced back to before 14,000 BC, the archipelago did not begin to take shape until around 300 BC. Peasants and fishermen made up the vast majority of Japan’s population at the time, and they lived in seasonal settlements that migrated across the country. The people who lived during the Jōmon period were known as “the market gardeners’ civilization” because they engaged in fishing, hunting, and primitive types of agriculture.
There was no such thing as money at the time, but jade daggers, ceramics, and shell-crafted things were beginning to emerge as popular handicrafts. Dogû is a kind of elaborate pottery that was discovered during the late Jōmon period, about 400 BC. There is no doubt that these works of art originated in Japan.
There was no Buddhism there at the time, just diverse shamanic rituals. It was believed that shamans could tap into the unseen realm and predict the future. They pray for prosperous harvests, appease the spirits, and protect against natural disasters and bad forces.
Japan and China: The Yayoi Period (300 BC–300 CE)
A Yayoi period dōtaku bell, 3rd century AD.
A dramatic shift in Japanese culture occurred at the start of the Yayoi period, about 300 BC. At this time, Shintoism was developing, governmental structures were being put in place, and trade with China was beginning to take place. The Yayoi, who came in from northern Kyûshu, the southernmost of the four main islands that make up the Japanese archipelago, were the ones who introduced these novelties.
Around 100 BC, Japan began producing its first metal goods, while the raw materials presumably originated in Korea. Communication with the Chinese and Koreans brought metalworking techniques, including bronze and iron, to Japan. Rapidly spreading from its origins in northern Kyushu, this groundbreaking idea has already changed the face of the whole island. Iron tools were put to use in farming, and the subsequent rise of the rice culture isolated and confined the rural population to their fields and homes made of mud and straw. Also, this system was only possible because of the rise of the settled population.
Landowners accumulated wealth, passed it down through the generations, and it increased the power of the ruling clan. Over time, they developed into something like feudal lords, complete with the power to impose taxes as well as administer justice and religious ceremonies. It was during this period that the first clans emerged. This aristocratic class’s religious function also bolstered their influence in politics. It was only they who had access to the holy items, could communicate with the other side, and understood the rituals of worship to the letter. The respect and admiration of others are a direct result of this accomplishment, further solidifying their position as leaders. Since bronze was less practical than iron for agricultural labor, it was relegated to the role of a symbol used in ceremonies, which eventually became an integral part of the governmental system.
In other words, the Yayoi era did not mark the end of the old shamanistic practices that had existed since the Jōmon period. Shinto, a religion with animist and polytheist elements, is still widely practiced in modern Japan. Shinto was founded on the idea that there were “6 million gods,” also known as kami (or spirits), who resided inside of everything and stood for each natural element. For instance, the fox deity Inari Ōkami, who was revered for his role in the harvest, was one of the most important kami.
In order to ensure a bountiful crop, they prayed to him. Shinto’s emphasis on cleanliness was similar to that of other religions. A person must periodically pray and do particular rites to rid themselves of their impurities (kegara), or else they will bring unhappiness and disaster upon themselves and everyone around them. The foundational myths of Japan, such as that the goddess Izanami and the god Izanagi created the country, have their origins in the Shinto faith.
The Japanese, who were known as the Wa at the time, first appeared in written Chinese. The fabled empress Himiko of Yamataitoku, who served as temporal ruler and high priestess, is said to have founded the empire around the third century (yet another fusion of spiritual and temporal powers). This empress may have existed, and she may have had some bearing on the later Yamato rule (from which the renowned battleship Yamato takes its name), although none of these claims have been verified.
The Emerging Empire: The Kofun Period (300 AD–538 AD)
The Nintoku mausoleum in Sakai, Osaka prefecture, Japan, part of the Mozu-Furuichi group of ancient burial sites known as kofun (Source: KYODO, Japan Times).
Towards the end of the 3rd century, gradually emerges what would later become the imperial house: the Yamato court. The clans in the Bizen region, along the shores of the Inland Sea, gain power to the extent of establishing their dominance over the southern part of Honshu and a portion of northern Kyushu. The dominant clans include Soga, Katsuraki, Heguri, and Koze, later joined by the Kibi clans of Izumo (further northwest), Otomo, Mononobe, Nakatomi, and Inbe.
Each of these clans retains leadership in its region (kuni) but unites with others under the direction of the Yamato court. The Soga, Mononobe, and Otomo clans are particularly influential. Each claims imperial and/or divine lineage. The Katsuraki, initially the most powerful, had to yield to the Otomo, who endorsed Emperor Keitai during a succession dispute at the end of the 5th century.
The Yamato court developed its own administration, introducing positions such as the Minister of the Treasury. While the Emperor allowed clans relative autonomy on their lands, his authority was absolute, with even clan leaders submitting to his will. In practice, certain clans held more influence, often due to marital alliances with the Emperor’s family.
The aristocracy, comprising clan members under the leadership of their patriarch, was granted the first hereditary noble titles. Advanced military techniques, including cavalry, emerged, and sword usage also originated during this period.
The Yamato court became a key interlocutor with Korean kingdoms and the Middle Kingdom. By the late 5th century, the Emperor of Wa (Japan) began paying tribute to the Chinese Emperor, who, in return, recognized him as sovereign.
Chinese and Koreans migrated to the archipelago, forming entire clans like the Hata clan, consisting of Chinese descendants of the Qin dynasty, or the Takamuko clan. Korean princes were sent as hostages to the Japanese court in exchange for military support against the Manchu tribes.
This influx of population had unforeseen consequences, notably introducing Buddhism to the archipelago and disrupting Japanese traditions.
As the Yamato era concluded, Japan stood as a well-established empire, recognized by neighbors despite its distinct Shinto-based culture and political system. However, with the arrival of Buddhism and ensuing reforms, Japan entered its imperial period, commencing with the Asuka era.
The Yamato court, which had its beginnings in the fifth century, grew into the imperial court of Japan during the next six centuries, becoming more dominant both domestically and internationally. It all started with a series of changes in the sixth and seventh centuries that completely altered the country’s political structure. During this period of imperial rule, the arts, cultural and spiritual traditions, and even the written language advanced, despite the fact that war was uncommon. Without a doubt, the six centuries between the beginning of the Heian period and the end of the Muromachi period were the Golden Age of the Empire of the Rising Sun, which became known as Japan during this time (Nihon). However, the shift between the Emperor’s ascension to power and his consolidation of that authority was characterized by a wave of changes that were essential to the Empire’s survival.
Shōtoku Taishi’s Reforms (587–628)
At the beginning of the 6th century, the Yamato court was the scene of intense political intrigue. Little by little, the Soga clan, thanks to its marriage to the imperial family, succeeded in establishing itself, pushing aside the Katsuraki, Heguri, and Koze clans, and above all, to the detriment of the Mononobe and Nakatomi clans, who contested the establishment of Buddhism. But we’ll come back to this later.
By 587, the Soga clan was sufficiently powerful to allow its leader, Soga no Umako, to install his nephew on the throne and rule through this straw man (or rather child), with the help of prince regent Shotoku Taishi (574-622). Later, the emperor, showing too much inclination towards independence, was assassinated and replaced by Empress Suiko (593-628). Shotoku Taishi was the first to introduce reform.
A devout Buddhist and a great connoisseur of Chinese literature, he drew inspiration from the Confucian principles governing government in the Middle Kingdom and applied them to Japanese reality. Shotoku Taishi introduced the concept of the Mandate of Heaven, according to which the Emperor holds his power by divine right and reigns according to the will of heaven. He also drew up a seventeen-article constitution, emphasizing the value of harmony and the Buddha’s teachings, the absolute priority of imperial orders over all other considerations, and praising the Confucian virtues of devotion and obedience.
This “constitution”—a debatable term, given that it does not really lay down the institutional foundations of the state but rather its guiding principles in moral and spiritual terms—is accompanied by a revolution in the system of ranks and etiquette, which, however laughable it may seem from the outside, is of major importance in a highly ritualized political system.
To complete the “Sinicization” of Japan, Buddhist temples were built, the Chinese calendar was adopted, and a new administrative unit inspired by the Chinese model came into force, the Gokishichido (5 cities, 7 roads). Students and diplomatic missions were sent to China, then under the rule of the Tang dynasty. However, although relations were more regular and intense, particularly on a cultural level, than during the Kofûn period, it was also at this time that rivalries between China and Japan developed. Indeed, messages from the Emperor of the Rising Sun to the Emperor of the Middle are now addressed as equals, as Japan no longer considers itself a vassal of its Chinese neighbor.
By the time Shotoku Taishi and Soga no Umako died, leaving the Soga clan to pull the strings of an Empire, Chinese culture had permeated Japanese customs and politics. Regarded with suspicion by the people, particularly Buddhist rites, these traditions from elsewhere were nevertheless to become an important part of the unique culture developed by Japan over the centuries that followed.
The Taika Reforms
The Soga clan, despite its period of success, did not survive long after the death of Shotoku Taishi. In the year 645, palace intrigues led to a coup d’état aimed at ending Soga’s grip on power. The Isshi Incident, also known as the Naka no Oe Uprising and Nakatomi no Kamatari (the clan that would later become the Fujiwara clan), signaled the start of the Taika Reforms, which means “Great Change.”
As control was no longer inherited, the central government initially confiscated land. Each generation, the lands were handed over to the imperial administration, responsible for their redistribution. Naturally, this meant that a family losing imperial favor could be reduced to nothing at a moment’s notice. Similarly, the hereditary titles of clan leaders were also deprived of hereditary transmission.
Subsequently, taxes on crops, silk, fabrics, and cotton were imposed to finance the expansion of the administration. A labor duty was instituted for the creation of a militia and the construction of public buildings. Finally, the division into Gokishichido was abolished, and the country was divided into provinces, led by governors accountable only to the imperial administration. Districts and townships were established to exert even more control over the country’s administration.
Additionally, the Emperor and his supporters, particularly the Kamatari, focused on establishing the ritsuryo, a set of penal and administrative rules. The ritsuryo was written in several stages: the Ômi code, the first version, was completed in 668; the Asuka Kiyomihara code in 689; and the latest version, the Taihô code, completed in 701, remained in effect with minor modifications until 1868. The penal code resembled a Confucian code, favoring lighter punishments over severe penalties.
The administrative code established the Jingi-kan, a body dedicated to court rituals and Shinto traditions, and the Daijo-kan, which created eight ministries for central administration, ceremonies, the imperial household, civil affairs, justice, the military, public affairs, and the treasury. This highly effective tool strengthened the imperial house’s ability to govern the country, contributing to the stabilization of its power.
The Introduction of Buddhism in Japan
The introduction of Buddhism to Japan likely occurred through immigration from the Korean Peninsula. In the 6th century, close relations between the Yamato court and Korean kingdoms developed, particularly after Japan’s intervention to support the Baekje kingdom against Mongol invaders. In 538, the first delegation was sent to Japan to spread the Buddhist faith. Initially embraced by the Soga clan and subsequently transmitted to the aristocracy, Buddhism faced resistance from the common people, supported by the Nakatomi and Mononobe clans.
As Buddhist traditions gained ground, Shinto traditions declined. Imperial decree forbade the burials known as “kofun,” or keyhole-shaped tumuli. The consumption of meat, including horses, birds, and dogs, was also forbidden.
Moreover, Buddhism was not the sole philosophy to make its way to the archipelago. In the mid-7th century, the first Japanese Taoist monastery was built on Mount Tonomine. Some imperial burials adopted the octagonal shape, symbolizing universal order in Taoism and indicating the strength of its influence.
As the Asuka period concluded, the empire was firmly established, with clans and the populace devoted; political stability prevailed; and the archipelago remained unscarred by conflicts. Such prosperity led the Japanese Empire to view itself as equal to the Middle Kingdom. A real cultural flowering was about to take place in what is now known as the Empire of the Rising Sun.
The Nara era commenced with the establishment, in the year 710 CE, of Japan’s first permanent capital in the city of Nara, located in the central part of the country. The Asuka era reforms gave rise to an imperial bureaucracy, which also settled in Nara. Rapidly, the city became Japan’s primary urban center, hosting a population of 200,000 people.
This urbanization, bringing together thinkers and artists from across the country, facilitated a genuine cultural explosion. During this period, imported Chinese culture associated with Buddhism waned, despite the capital being planned similarly to the Chinese Tang Dynasty capital, and was replaced by an original Japanese culture. Concurrently, the permanence of the imperial court heightened palace intrigues and power struggles. While the Nara and Heian eras are synonymous with cultural blossoming in Japan, they are also inseparable from the decline of imperial power and the onset of the first clan wars.
Development of Japanese Arts and Culture
The first sign of cultural renewal is the abandonment, starting in 710, of the titles and court attire of the Chinese tradition. Beauty standards evolve, and both aristocratic men and women powder their faces to whiten their skin and blacken their teeth. Men adopt the practice of wearing a thin mustache, while women paint their lips scarlet, all in an effort to approach the divine “perfection” described in Shinto pantheon legends. The first complex court robes also make their appearance, known as “junihitoe,” consisting of multiple layers of fabrics arranged according to a complex code based on the season and sacred festivals.
Artistically, the major development of these two eras was undoubtedly literary. Although Chinese remained the court language, the emergence of “kanas”—characters designed to express nuances, typically Japanese—led to an explosion of literature. The first major works emerged at the beginning of the Nara era, with the Kojiki (712) and the Nihon Shoki (724), the first imperial chronicles. Later, fictional works such as the famous Tale of Genji, the first Japanese novel, and The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon, one of the earliest female authors, were written. Poetry also experienced impressive growth. Japanese poems, known as waka, flourished during this time, as being a poet was a mark of an enlightened and serene spirit. Fujiwara no Teika, Murasaki Shikibu, and Saigyo are among the famous poets.
To fully grasp the significance of literary creations during this period, the current national anthem of Japan, “Kimi Ga Yo,” was written during the early Heian era, around 800.
Buddhism in the Empire of the Rising Sun
During the Nara period in Japan, as Chinese traditions fell into disuse and the Tang dynasty’s court was considered decadent, Buddhism, imported from China, did not follow the same decline. Well-established in the archipelago, the Buddhist clergy engaged in a rapid process of adaptation to Japanese reality. Despite being closely connected to the emperors and empresses of Nara, this adaptation did not occur without posing some challenges.
At the beginning of the Nara era, Buddhism gained significant prominence. A vast monastic complex, the Todaiji temple, was constructed with a colossal bronze statue of Buddha at its center, known as Daibutsu, towering over 16 meters in height. Assimilated to the representation of the Sun Goddess, Amaterasu, this statue synthesized Buddhism from the continent with the older traditions of Shinto, native to Japan. Still visible in Nara, it remains a highly esteemed monument for both Japanese and foreign tourists. Provincial temples, called kokubunji, were established to extend the influence of Buddhism to rural regions where Shinto still held strong roots.
The archipelago’s oldest monasteries also date back to this period, such as the grand monastery on Mount Hiei, built by the Tendai Buddhist sect, closely associated with the emperor and basing its doctrine on the Lotus Sutra. Cultural achievements and artistic works from the Buddhist world found their way to Japan, notably the Shoso-in temple, which archived sacred texts from as far back as the early caravanserais of Central Asia on the Silk Road. The development of religious art played a crucial role in Buddhism’s influence in Japan, encompassing silk paintings, Buddhist statues, temple decorations (mandalas), sculpture, and calligraphy.
Buddhism: State Religion? No, but…
During the Heian period in Japan, Buddhism ceased to be the state religion but remained a means for the imperial family to uphold and expand its power and influence. Empress Kôken (749–758) invited a large number of Buddhist priests to the court during her reign. Even after her abdication in 758, she maintained strong ties with the clergy, particularly with a priest named Dokyô. When her cousin Nakamaro of Fujiwara rebelled against her, she successfully defeated him, subsequently dethroning the reigning emperor and ascending to the throne as Empress Shotoku (764–770). These actions shocked the court and led to the exclusion of women from the succession line. The clergy’s involvement is evident, as the empress, in gratitude for her victory, had nearly a million wooden charms manufactured.
In the later Heian era, the Tendai and Kukai Buddhist sects garnered support from numerous aristocrats, including Emperor Kammu, a staunch admirer of Tendai. Both sects aimed to connect the clergy and the state, believing that their religious conduct required influencing political decisions. During this period, the clergy’s land holdings grew in importance. Enjoying tax exemptions due to their religious status, monasteries also caused significant financial losses, threatening the imperial administration’s financial stability.
While there was a cultural explosion during the Nara period and the early Heian era, which was characterized by the development of modern Japanese writing and the influence of Buddhism, cracks started to appear during what appeared to be the heyday of imperial power. These fissures persisted throughout the Heian era, ultimately leading to the fall of the Empire and the rise of the shogunate.
The transition from the Nara era to the Heian era, though seemingly inconspicuous, carried significant implications. In 794, the capital was once again moved, this time from Nara to Kyoto (then known as Heian-kyô). Built on a larger scale but following the same plan as Nara, Kyoto stood as a monumental symbol of the imperial era’s flourishing.
Emperor Kammu chose Kyoto to strengthen the seat of imperial power, considering its better access to the sea, a river route, and, most importantly, its proximity to the eastern provinces. By establishing the government’s seat there, Kammu aimed to make it a strong power center that would extend imperial dominance across the archipelago. Military victories in the northeastern part of Honshu marked an initial step toward success, but the seeds of the decline of imperial authority were already present.
The Fujiwara Regency
Emperor Kammu, who seemed to be leading the Empire towards power, died in 806, leaving behind a powerful throne but a disputed succession. At exactly the same time, the great noble families began to regain their lost power from the reforms of the sixth century. Farmers and independent peasants who owned their own land since these reforms found it more advantageous to sell their property titles to these families. They would then work on these lands as sharecroppers in exchange for a fraction of the harvest. The result of this trend was that the extent of land controlled by the nobles was rapidly expanding. These lands formed “shōen,” large parcels, overseen by a manor or a castle.
This was somewhat reminiscent of the existing feudal system in Europe, except that the peasants were not serfs tied to their land. Furthermore, while peasants could not escape the controls on their heritage and tax collection, the great noble families were politically powerful enough to obtain substantial reductions in their taxes. A similar situation existed for monastic institutions. Monasteries also began to form shōen, becoming a significant factor in the country’s economy.
Gradually, emperors lost the absolute control they had over the administration as the Empire’s financial resources dwindled. The Fujiwara family, one of the most powerful noble families in Japan, which owned immense cultivable areas in the north of the country, gradually approached the seat of power, particularly through marriages with the imperial family. During the ninth century, the Fujiwara took the lead in the Imperial Cabinet, and several of them assumed the role of regent. The management of the Empire’s affairs gradually fell under the control of their family administration, which also managed their land holdings. The Fujiwara family surpassed imperial officials at all levels.
While other clans did not have an administrative machine as extensive as the Fujiwara, they nevertheless developed their own administration. The foundations of the feudal system were already in place.
The Rise of the Military Class
As the finances of the Empire collapsed, maintaining a substantial imperial army became increasingly problematic. Gradually, the management of military affairs became as much, if not more, the responsibility of noble families than the imperial administration. The shōen, in fact, were both the reason and the means to develop armed forces: they enabled the payment and sustenance of troops, who, among other duties, defended against raiders and the incursions of the Emishi (tribes in northern Japan). Private militias, whether under the command of noble families or religious orders, marked the emergence of a new social class—the warriors (bushi), later known as samurai (those who serve).
The larger families, controlling more extensive lands, also possessed the most numerous armies and consequently received military titles and corresponding prestige from the imperial court. Clans such as Taira, Fujiwara, and Minamoto, in particular, took center stage in the military arena. A tense situation developed, with each clan wary of the others, yet none taking the initiative for open conflict. Eventually, the balance was disrupted by Emperor Go-Sanjô (1068–1073).
Unlike several of his predecessors, Emperor Go-Sanjô managed to diminish the power of the Fujiwara. He established an official land registry, and as a significant portion of Fujiwara lands had not been properly recorded with authorities after being acquired from small landowners, the Fujiwara clan lost a substantial portion of its lands and income.
The Hôgen Rebellion (1156), supported by the Taira and Minamoto, further dispossessed the Fujiwara of their dominant position, compelling them to retreat to their northern strongholds. While they retained their official positions, the Emperor regained control of the administration, establishing an imperial council composed of abdicated emperors. Internal divisions within the clan accelerated its decline. For the first time, a war had brought an end to the power of a major clan.
The Genpei War, 1180–1185
Minamoto no Yoritomo, from an 1179 hanging scroll by Fujiwara no Takanobu.
The Gempei War was Japan’s first true civil war, and it occurred shortly after the collapse of the Fujiwara, a family that had been pushed to the political outside. From 1180 on, this one battled against the Minamoto and Taira dynasties. There were indicators of an impending big battle going back many decades. The Minamoto initially rebelled against Taira rule of the imperial court in 1160, during the Heiji rebellion, but were soon put down.
The Taira clan, led by the legendary Taira no Kiyomori, controlled imperial politics during the period. He had the nerve to become clan chief and then seize control of modern-day Kobe, the hub of the busiest commerce route between Song China and Kyoto, the imperial capital. Because of this, he was able to provide a comfortable lifestyle for his loved ones while still advancing his career and gaining influence. Kiyomori created and unmade monarchs (Nijo, Rokujo, Takaku) as he pleased in his role as Daijo Daijin (Chief Minister of the government, second in power only to the Emperor) and administrator of the Empire.
By doing so, the Taira earned the enmity of many in the court who were envious of their authority. Assisted by the Minamoto family, Prince Mochihito, brother of the deposed Emperor Gosanjo, started the war in an effort to end the Taira dynasty’s rule. When Mochihito issued a summons to arms, the latter responded by relocating the capital to Fukuhara (current-day Kobe), which was inside the center of their fief.
In the summer of 1180, troops from both families converged, and in the first fight, at Uji, the Minamoto were utterly defeated. Despite the assistance of the warrior-monks of the Mount Hiei monasteries, Prince Mochihito and the Minamoto clan chief, Minamoto no Yorimosa, were both slaughtered. The Taira forces besieged and ultimately destroyed most of these monasteries. The Minamoto were beaten for the second time on September 14, 1180, in Ishibashiyama, and so they withdrew to their seaside stronghold of Kamakura. Taira no Kiyomori passed away in February of the following year, putting his youngest son in line to become shogun. With both forces separated by hundreds of kilometers and experiencing supply issues due to weak crops, fighting froze in the spring of 1181.
After two years of doing nothing, the army resumed its advance in the spring of 1183. Although the Minamoto were unprepared and their warriors were untrained, the Taira were nonetheless totally destroyed by them at Kurikara. With time, the Taira were unable to escape Kyoto and were forced to retreat to their homelands in western Honshu and Shikoku. Infighting between Yoshinaka and Yoshitsune, two members of the Minamoto family, over who would rule the clan meant that the Taira never fully recovered from the catastrophes of 1183.
Battle of Ichi-no-Tani folding screen.
After besieging Ichi no Tani and Dan no ura, they were eventually defeated in the naval battle of Shimonoseki in the Inland Sea. After the Taira family was annihilated, the Kamakura Shogunate took power. The chief of the Minamoto clan became Japan’s military dictator, known as the Shogun. As a result of this conflict, the emperors were demoted to the role of symbolic figures, while the shogun assumed practical control for the next 500 years. The samurai emerged as Japan’s new elite class when the country entered its feudal period.
Battle of Dan-no-ura.
In 1185, the Minamoto clan triumphed over the Taira clan and became the dominant family in the Japanese archipelago. The Taira family’s former dominance and influence over the government were history. However, the war proved the superiority of military might over imperial control. For a long time, samurai were seen as little more than powerless slaves, but over time, they started to establish a warrior caste and assume more responsibilities. Shortly after the Minamoto triumph, the imperial court reinforced this status quo by bestowing upon Minamoto no Yoritomo the title of Seii Tai Shogun, therefore vesting absolute authority in him.
Emergence of the Samurai: The Kamakura Period (1185–1333)
A Japanese painting on silk in a traditional style of a Samurai warrior riding a horse. Image: Pinterest.
The Kamakura era began in 1185, when Minamoto no Yoritomo, the first shogun in centuries, established the seat of his so-called bakufu government (tent government, in reference to the fact that military chiefs held power there) in Kamakura, some 50 kilometers from present-day Tokyo. As with any new regime, Yoritomo’s first priority was to consolidate his power. He created three ministries essential to the governance of the state. The first dealt with finance and administration. The second dispensed justice in times of peace and organized the raising of troops from the shogun’s vassals in times of war. The latter ensured that the shogun’s decisions were implemented.
The Kamakura shogunate’s other source of power came from the lands under its control. After the defeat of the Taira, much of the land in central and western Japan came under Minamoto’s control via confiscation. The Minamotos then distributed these lands among those who would become their vassals, thereby securing their loyalty. This was the birth of the feudal system and of the samurai caste, made up of landowners and their vassals who had sworn loyalty and fought for their lord.
As he established this new system, Yoritomo found himself fighting against those who resisted these changes. The Fujiwara clan, which owned most of the land in northern Japan, was deeply rooted in traditional values. They saw the Minamotos as upstarts who endangered imperial power itself. Moreover, the Fujiwara refused to be accountable to those they saw as rivals. Eventually, the situation degenerated into a new civil war, much faster than the previous one, which ended in 1189 with the defeat of Fujiwara no Yasuhira and the end of Fujiwara’s power, which never recovered.
When Yoritomo died ten years later, in 1199, Japan’s political landscape was unrecognizable. While the old imperial court remained in Kyoto, the new Minamoto vassal landowning families had regrouped at the Kamakura court. For the first time, there were two true centers of power in Japan. But, Yoritomo’s death was also the beginning of the end for the Minamotos.
The internal dissension that had already manifested itself during the war against the Taira resumed with a vengeance. His son Yoriie succeeded him as head of the clan but proved unable to maintain Minamoto’s hold on the shogunate. In the early years of the 13th century, a warrior clan, the Hôjô, seized the post of Regent (Shikken) and created the posts of Tokuso and Renshô, titles that were normally honorary but which they used to strip the Minamoto shogun of his prerogatives. The Hôjo were, de facto, the new masters of shogunal power.
Although the position of the shogun had been created in honor of those who defended imperial power, the shogun had gradually come to encroach on the emperor’s power. In 1221, Emperor Gô-Toba declared the second Hojo regent, Yoshitoki, an outlaw and went to war against the shogunate. The Hojo clan and its allies crushed the imperial forces in less than a month, exiling Gô-Toba and his sons. This revolt, known as the Jokyû Incident, marked the end of imperial power, with the emperor reduced to a symbolic role.
The Hojo kings established the Council of State in 1225, a new political structure where the other lords shared legislative and judicial authority. This sharing of power in no way diminished the importance of the shogun and regent and enabled them to give other clans the opportunity to exercise a share of power, reducing the risk of a coup d’état. In 1232, a new legal code was established. Unlike the rules in force until then, which were based entirely on the theories of Confucius, this code, the Goseibai Shikimoku, focused on the creation of laws and precise punishments according to crimes and was devoid of any philosophical scope while being much clearer and more practical to use.
The Hojo regents maintained absolute authority for around fifty years. Until the first Mongol invasion of Japan in 1274… In 1268, the Mongols, under Kublai Khan, created the Yuan dynasty and began ruling China. The latter desired to include Japan among his vassal states and hence issued an ultimatum demanding that Japan surrender and pay tribute. The Hojo regents promptly rejected the ultimatum. In 1274, about 23,000 Mongols, Chinese, and Koreans arrived on the northern part of Kyushu in a fleet of 600 ships, armed with grenades that had never been seen in Japan before.
The samurai quickly lost ground, unaccustomed to the group formations employed by the Mongol officers. However, a typhoon ravaged the Mongol fleet less than a day after landing. In 1281, Kublai Khan launched a second invasion, but the fleet was once again wiped out by a typhoon after an apparently successful landing and a few weeks of fighting in Kyushu. Japanese Shinto priests called these typhoons the kamikaze, the divine winds that come to defend Japan against foreign invaders.
However, typhoons were probably not the only cause of Kublai’s defeat. The remains of ships found at the site show many defects. It is thought that Chinese and Korean shipbuilders, hoping to shake off the Mongol yoke, built vessels adapted to river navigation, not to the high seas, let alone storms. As a result, many ships sank where ships with more suitable hulls would have resisted.
The invasions had not left the archipelago unscathed. The financial cost of raising troops and preparing for defense had led to new taxes, and the Hojo regency was becoming less and less popular. To make matters worse, bands of ronin, masterless samurai who resorted to brigandage to survive, began wreaking havoc across the country. To avoid the worst, the Hojo further weakened imperial power by creating a second court. The Northern and Southern Courts, from two different branches of the imperial family, were supposed to rule alternately, thus further reducing the emperor’s remaining influence.
While this solution worked for a few decades, in 1331, Emperor Go-Daigo of the Southern Court ascended the throne, intent on ridding himself of the Hojo regents and the shogunate. The Hojo clashed with forces loyal to the emperor but were defeated by the treachery of the Ashikaga family, led by Takauji, which led to the dispersion and subsequent rout of the shogunate forces. In 1333, Emperor Go-Daigo re-established imperial power for a brief period known as the Kemmu Restoration.
The Kenmu Restoration (1333–1336)
Go-Daigo’s main goal—to retake control from the shogunate and effectively rule Kamakura without interference from the military—is now possible thanks to the success of his uprising. However, the Kemmu Restoration was short-lived, primarily due to a strategic error on the emperor’s part. He believed he had the support of a significant portion of the samurai class and the so-called “loyalist” military clans and families. In reality, these loyalist samurai and clans had not engaged in the revolt to support the emperor but rather to end the Hojo domination. Consequently, after the emperor’s restoration as the true leader, Go-Daigo neglected to reward his allies, assuming their allegiance. By failing to compensate the samurai, he lost their support, leading to new disturbances in the country.
Simultaneously, the majority of the warrior class is discontented with what they perceive as ingratitude, and the major military families are concerned about the emperor’s initiatives to establish a civilian-dominated power. Violent political clashes ensue, particularly between Prince Morinaga, the emperor’s descendant, and Takauji, the leader of the Ashikaga clan, each vying to place their followers in strategic positions. Gradually, Takauji manages to distinguish himself as the leader and representative of the samurai. Eventually, he imprisoned Morinaga on charges of treason in Kamakura in 1335.
In that year, an unexpected event provided Takauji with the opportunity he needed. A survivor of the Hojo regency, Tokiyuki, revolted and temporarily regained control of Kamakura. Before leaving, the Ashikaga-appointed governor ordered Morinaga’s execution, shifting the blame onto the Hojo. Takauji then asked the emperor to grant him the title of shogun to quell the rebellion. Despite Go-Daigo’s disagreement, Takauji left Kyoto for Kamakura and ended the Hojo revolt. When the emperor ordered him to return, he refused, signaling that Takauji and the Ashikaga were rejecting the emperor’s authority, leading to the secession of the Kamakura region.
Swiftly, an imperial army assembled to defeat the Ashikaga, while a second army marched towards Kamakura to aid its defense. On November 17, 1335, Takauji’s brother sent messages throughout the country, calling on all samurai to defend the Ashikaga against the emperor’s tyranny. Simultaneously, the imperial court urged the samurai to help defeat the Ashikaga rebels.
When the actual war began, most samurai were convinced that Takauji Ashikaga was the leader they needed to assert their interests. With a significant numerical advantage, Ashikaga forces defeated the imperial armies, and on February 25, 1336, Takauji entered Kyoto, putting an end to the Kemmu Restoration.
The Muromachi Period (1337–1573)
After more than a year of debates and dissensions, Takauji Ashikaga was finally appointed Shogun in 1337. The Ashikaga shoguns maintained their reign for nearly 250 years, until 1573. This period was named Muromachi, after the district where the shoguns’ palace was located. It was relocated back to Kyoto in 1378 by the third Ashikaga shogun. This geographical proximity aimed to exert much tighter control over the imperial court. While the Kamakura shogunate had never truly eradicated imperial power, the Ashikaga went so far as to destroy the notion that the Emperor should reign directly, making the position of Shogun indispensable for the Empire’s proper functioning.
Under the Kamakura shoguns, the governor’s position was merely that of an agent acting on behalf of the shogun. However, at the beginning of the Muromachi era, it became synonymous with extended powers, gaining almost complete control over the lands they ruled, answering only to the shogun. These lords, called daimyos, quickly became the most powerful political figures in the Empire directly after the shogunal court.
In 1392, the Ashikaga also reunified the separated Imperial Court under the Hojo regency, another measure to control imperial power more easily. Eventually, it was the rise of the shoguns that led to the decline of the Ashikaga, to the point where the daimyos could directly support certain candidates for imperial succession, facilitating the ascent to the throne of emperors favoring their interests, generally to the detriment of the Shogun. From the fourth Ashikaga shogun onward, the influence of the shoguns slowly declined, along with their prestige.
Officially, the Ashikaga remained in power until 1573, but long before their fall, signs of their decay became increasingly visible. The Ônin War, between 1467 and 1477, triggered by a dispute over imperial succession, marked the beginning of a previously unknown period of turmoil in Japan. A period of civil war where every family and every clan defended only their own interests plunged the country into chaos.
This troubled period is known as Sengoku-jidai, the age of warring states.
1477: Japan is in complete chaos. The Ônin War has just ended, but the troubles do not subside. The Ashikaga dynasty, which has been ruling the country on behalf of the Emperor with the title of Seishi Taishogun since 1337, is losing its grip and proves incapable of ending conflicts that emerge everywhere in the country among the dozens of noble families and clans. Japan gradually lost its cohesion, sinking into one of the most turbulent periods in its history, the Sengoku-jidai (a time of unprecedented upheaval and transformations), the era of warring states.
Nanban and Gunpowder
In 1543, a typhoon off the coast of Tanegashima, in southern Japan, kidnapped a ship full of Portuguese sailors and brought them to the Japanese islands. There was a profound shock since the Japanese had never before had any meaningful interaction with European cultures. The Portuguese were referred to as “Nanban” by the Japanese. This term translates to “Southern Barbarians.”
Despite an embargo placed by the Emperor of China in retribution for Japanese piracy, the Portuguese started importing Chinese commodities, notably silk, into Japan within a few years. Eventually, business picked up speed. The port of Nagasaki opened as a commercial station in 1571, and commerce with the Portuguese increased rapidly. Shortly later, in 1578, the daimyo of the Sumitada clan requested Portuguese aid in fending off an assault on the daimyo, and in return, the port was permanently surrendered to the Jesuits.
To Japan next came the Dutch in the year 1600. The competition with the Portuguese for control of commerce with the Land of the Rising Sun was severe.
There were two key shifts that the introduction of Westerners to Japan brought about. One of the causes was technical. Gunpowder’s use in Japanese military operations was nascent in 1543. The intention behind this seemingly minor innovation was to dramatically shift the power dynamic. Suddenly, families armed with Portuguese arquebuses could compete with their more formidable neighbors.
The availability of such weapons also contributed to the escalation of hostilities. Fighting broke out on the southern island of Kyushu when the Portuguese arrived, and it wasn’t until later that harquebuses became commonplace across the archipelago. They were dubbed Tanegashima after the island where the Nanban had their first encounter. By 1560, harquebuses were widely used in warfare.
The harquebuses were not the only thing the Westerners brought with them, though; the Christian faith was also a major contributor to tensions. Six years after the first meeting, Nagazaki built its first church. The founder of the Jesuits, the Catholic Church’s missionary arm, set his sights on Japan in an effort to win over the local population. In under 30 years, the majority of the daimyo in Kyushu and more than 130,000 other Japanese were converted.
Christianity flourished across Japan, from the lowest of the low to the highest of the high, despite the social boundaries that existed between the various classes. While some daimyo were willing to accept Buddhism without investigation, others were suspicious of the new faith, believing it was being utilized by the Nanban to penetrate Japan. Christian and non-Christian daimyos began fighting with one another.
Gekokujo: The Powerful Are Defeated by the Humble
The clan wars tearing apart the country witnessed unprecedented events. The ancient, powerful, and respected clans, along with their leaders, who, according to the Japanese social system, are masters of their vassals, are gradually losing ground to dynamic new clans and ambitious leaders. The established order is shattered by internal rivalries, and those who, in times of peace, would have submitted to the will of dominant families now struggle to take the lead. This phenomenon is known as Gekokujo, roughly translated as “the humble overcome the powerful.”
As a result, the war rapidly degenerates, occurring not only between clans but also within clans. Various families and branches within the clan vie for control. In the Echigo region, north of Kyoto, on the coast of the Sea of Japan, peasants and commoners rise up following the Ikko-ikki religious movement (a Buddhist school of the “Pure Land”) and assert their independence. They receive support from the minor nobility and rōnins, the samurai left masterless by the war.
In the province of Iga (Skull Valley), villagers free themselves from the grip of feudal lords, establishing a league (ikki) comprised of peasants, rōnins, and the clergy to defend against external aggressors. The region is notably renowned for its ninja clans.
In summary, this phenomenon, accelerating the decomposition of the country into rival factions, also presents a unique opportunity to end the social stagnation that led to the decline of the Ashikaga dynasty.
The Unification of Japan: Oda Nobunaga (1534–1582)
Oda Nobunaga in a 16th-century portrait by Kanō Motohide (detail).
During this turbulent period, three ambitious and skilled men emerged to reunify Japan under a single banner. The first among them took the lead of the Oda clan in 1551, a minor clan in the Owari province in central Japan. His name was Oda Nobunaga.
At that time, the Oda clan was in a precarious situation, being a vassal of Shiba Yoshimune, the governor of the province, and divided into several factions. With the support of Yoshimune and one of his younger brothers, Oda Nobumitsu, Nobunaga managed to overcome the opposition of Nobutomo, another brother who assassinated Yoshimune to deprive Nobunaga of support. Nobunaga eventually got rid of his brother and rival in Kiyosu, then used Yoshimune’s son as a puppet to form an alliance with a powerful neighboring clan, the Imagawa. After eight years of conflict and the elimination of another brother, Oda Nobunaga finally succeeded in unifying the Owari province under his leadership in 1559.
The following year, he had to defend against an incursion by the Imagawa, who marched with 25,000 men towards Kyoto, while Nobunaga could only muster 3,000. Against all expectations and the advice of his counselors, Nobunaga attacked the Imagawa forces, using straw dummies and the cover of a providential storm to sow chaos among his enemies. This was the Battle of Okehazama, during which the Imagawa general was killed. The Imagawa quickly lost their position, and Nobunaga took the opportunity to ally with one of their former vassals, the Mitsudaira, in 1561.
Between 1561 and 1567, he focused on seizing the neighboring Mino province, diverting the vassals of the Saito clan from their master before launching a lightning campaign that swept away the Saito in a few months. After this victory, he changed his personal seal to “Tenka Fubu,” meaning: Unify the nation with military might.
In 1568, at the request of a member of the Ashikaga family, Nobunaga set out to conquer Kyoto, quickly driving the Miyoshi clan out of the city and making Ashikaga Yoshiaki the 15th Ashikaga shogun. Almost immediately, Nobunaga began to restrict the shogun’s powers, thereby increasing his own power and making it clear to the daimyo that he intended to use the shogun as a puppet.
Later Hōjō era’s Odawara Castle. Image: Wikimedia.
This bold move was too much for Nobunaga’s rivals. Led by the Asakura, former masters of the Oda, the Asai, and the Ikko-ikki launched a concerted aggression against the Oda clan, inflicting heavy losses. Eventually, with the help of their allies, the Tokugawa (formerly Mitsudaira), the Oda counterattacked, breaking the Asai and Asakura armies at the Battle of Anegawa. Subsequently, Nobunaga, known at the time for his Christian sympathies, dealt with the Buddhist uprising against him. He burned the Enryaku-ji temple in 1571 and besieged the Nagashima fortress. Eventually, the struggle against the Ikkō-ikki Buddhists cost him several thousand soldiers and two brothers, and he finally set fire to the castle in 1574, ending the resistance.
Meanwhile, as Nobunaga was entangled on his western flank, the Takeda clan seized the opportunity to attack from the east, starting by invading Tokugawa lands, defeated at the Battle of Mikatagahara in 1573. The Tokugawa managed to slow down the Takeda by organizing night raids, and after the death of Takeda Shingen, the Takeda retreated. At the same time, the Oda completed the conquest of the Asai and Asakura clans.
In 1574, Nobunaga turned to the east and, with the Tokugawa, invaded the Takeda clan’s lands, reducing the entire Takeda forces to nothingness at the Battle of Nagashino, thanks in part to the innovative use of arquebusiers arranged in a triple line of fire for continuous shooting. The Takeda never recovered from this defeat.
For three years, Nobunaga consolidated his positions, but the Mori to the west broke the naval blockade of the surviving Buddhist castle at Igashiyama. In 1577, the future Toyotomi Hideyoshi, Nobunaga’s lieutenant, was sent to attack the Mori clan. The Uesugi clan, under the leadership of Uesugi Kenshin, gathered northern clans to attack the Oda that same year, resulting in a crushing defeat at Tedorigawa. Only Kenshin’s death ended the second anti-Oda coalition.
In 1582, Nobunaga controlled half of Japan, including Kyoto. The conquest of the Mori continued, and the northern clans could no longer offer credible resistance. Nobunaga fell victim to a coup that Mitsuhide, one of his lieutenants, orchestrated while he was traveling to the western front. Mitsuhide’s troops surrounded the Honno-ji temple where he was staying, killing Nobunaga and his eldest son, casting doubt on the succession.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1536/37–1598)
Toyotomi Hideyoshi..
After the death of Nobunaga, the situation was chaotic. Hashiba Hideyoshi emerged to quell the rekindled chaos. This former lieutenant of Nobunaga, the son of the ashigaru (peasant class), initially served Nobunaga as a sandal-bearer, a very low-ranking servant.
At the Battle of Okehazama, Nobunaga noticed him and became interested in his sharp-witted servant. In 1564, Hideyoshi was sent to rally deserters from the Saito clan to the Oda cause. In 1567, the Battle of Inabayama was won thanks to Hideyoshi’s idea to flood the valley where the castle was built. In 1573, Nobunaga made him the daimyo of a fief in North Omi, and Hideyoshi continued to faithfully serve Nobunaga, leading a war against the Mori clan between 1577 and 1582.
Upon learning of Nobunaga’s death due to Mitsuhide’s betrayal, Hideyoshi immediately negotiated a peace treaty with the Mori and turned his forces against the traitors at the Battle of Yamazaki. After avenging his master, it was time to organize Nobunaga’s succession at the Kiyosu meeting. With his eldest son dead, several candidates vied for succession: Oda Nobutaka, Oda Nobukatsu, and Oda Hidenobu. Hideyoshi chose to support the latter, with the help of two of the three Oda clan advisors. Through two swift victories, he eliminated Shibata Katsuie, Nobutaka’s advocate, and established a status quo with the Tokugawa defending Nobukatsu.
Once his candidate was installed as the head of the Oda clan, Hideyoshi began strengthening his grip, starting the construction of his own fortress, Osaka Castle, in 1583. During this relatively calm period, he was officially adopted by the regent family of Fujiwara, receiving the title of Kampaku (“regent”) and the name Toyotomi.
Taking advantage of his dominant position, Hideyoshi launched a conquest of the South, gaining control of Southern Honshu and overthrowing the Chosokabe clan’s dominance on Shikoku. In 1587, he landed in Kyushu and, strongly opposing the spread of Christianity, banned missionaries from the island. To prevent the formation of new leagues (or ikki), he prohibited peasants and commoners from carrying weapons, initiating what was later called the sword hunt. Once his control was established in the South, Hideyoshi turned his attention to the East again, defeating the Hojo clan, the last major independent clan, at the Battle of Odawara. He then offered their Kanto lands to Tokugawa Ieyasu if the latter submitted, which he did. Hideyoshi became the master of a unified Japan.
Unfortunately, his ambitions did not stop there. Now that the country was under his control, he contemplated invading Ming China, first securing control of Korea (Joseon at the time). When the Korean governors, vassals of the Emperor of China, rejected the proposed free passage agreements, he devised invasion plans starting in August 1591.
In April 1592, Japanese troops landed on Korean soil, capturing Seoul without significant difficulty and undertaking the takeover of the country’s strategic points, dividing to achieve this goal as quickly as possible before China reacted. In four months, they had begun to force a route to Manchuria by spring 1593. However, a Chinese army counterattacked and pushed the Japanese back to Seoul, where the war bogged down.
The quagmire of the Korean expedition destabilized Hideyoshi, and the birth of his first son in the same year sparked a succession dispute with his nephew, while the fierce repression of Christianity caused further troubles. A new invasion of Korea launched in 1598 failed miserably, and a plague epidemic ravaged the country, claiming Hideyoshi’s life on September 18, 1598. Once again, Japan was deprived of a leader.
The Tokugawa Leyasu Period (1543–1616)
Tokugawa Ieyasu.
Tokugawa Ieyasu, a longstanding ally of the Oda, had taken up arms against Toyotomi Hideyoshi since the latter was not an ally but a competitor. As far back as 1584, when the Tokugawa supported Oda Nobukatsu over Hideyoshi’s candidate in the succession to Nobunaga, the Tokugawa had been at odds with Hideyoshi and his kin. Ieyasu’s son became Hideyoshi’s adopted child when the two leaders settled their differences and established a united government.
While Hideyoshi consolidated power elsewhere in Japan, he made the Hojo stronghold of Kanto available to the Tokugawa in 1588. Quickly agreeing, Ieyasu saw the chance to extend his empire (from 5 to 8 provinces), while Hideyoshi wanted to undermine his competitor by relocating him to an area he did not control. Ieyasu won over the previous Hojo clan members and started constructing a new domain in Edo while patiently waiting for his opportunity.
After Hideyoshi appointed him and four other counselors as regents for his son Hideyori, he served in this capacity until Hideyoshi’s death in 1598. After Maeda Toshiie, the most revered of the five regents, was killed, Ieyasu spent a year forging alliances with Hideyoshi’s erstwhile opponents and then marched on Osaka Castle, where Hideyori was hiding.
Ishida Mitsunari rallied the other three regents to stand against him. It didn’t take long for the western army to become a clan that supported Hideyoshi and the eastern army to establish a clan that supported the Tokugawa clan. During the greatest battle in Japanese history in June of 1600, the Tokugawa clan marched north against the Uesugi clan and then west to counter the army marching to Fushimi, dividing its forces under the command of his son Hidetada. However, this secondary force fell behind along the Tokaido route and was therefore not present.
Battle of Sekigahara.
The Battle of Sekigahara took place on the 21st of October, 1600, and included around 160,000 troops. The battle was intense, but the Tokugawa ultimately broke through the western army’s right flank, resulting in a widespread defeat that allowed them to seize control of Japan and wipe out their competitors simultaneously. On April 24, 1603, after consolidating and solidifying his power, he was made shogun, marking the commencement of the last Japanese shogunate, which would continue for almost 250 years.