Tag: middle ages

Special Boards for Dates

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

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.

Chronicle of Roger of Hoveden [Source]

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

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”

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.

• 16 Most Popular Legends About Peter the Great

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

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

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

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.

buy super kamagra online https://infobuyblo.com/buy-super-kamagra.html no prescription pharmacy

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 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.

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.

Books in the Middle Ages

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.

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.

Some are extracted from stones, such as lapis lazuli, which is blue.

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.

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

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 Rise of Universities in the Middle Ages

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

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

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

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.