Medieval Rome

As I have discussed previously, the idea of a "fall of Rome" ushering in the Middle Ages is a misconception.  Both the city of Rome itself and the idea of a Roman empire continued throughout the Middle Ages.  Since after Charlemagne was crowned Roman emperor by the pope in 800 there were Roman emperors right there in western Europe, as well as the Roman emperors in Constantinople, it's kind of hard to say that Rome disappeared.

But many things were different.  For one thing, Roman emperors were rarely in Rome.  The western emperors were also kings of Germany for much of the Middle Ages and would come to Rome to be crowned by the popes, maybe have a brief war with some Italian city states, and head north again.  For all practical purposes, the real rulers of medieval Rome were the popes, revered at least in the abstract as heirs of Peter.  They had their headquarters at the Lateran palace until the fifteenth century, when they moved to the Vatican to be closer to the basilica of Saint Peter's—the Lateran palace is not even in the modern city-state of the Vatican (officially its own country only since 1929).

Just as the rulers of Rome had changed since antiquity, so had the city itself.  Ancient Rome had been an enormous city, at least a million people, stretched over its seven hills, with a long wall (some twenty kilometers long) surrounding it, punctuated by guard towers.  But with the population declines of the early Middle Ages, it shrank to a fraction of its former size, maybe only twenty thousand people, getting a new set of walls well within the old set, to surround the population of a much smaller city.  (The Colosseum and forum in the center of this shrunken city.)

In between the old, imperial walls and the medieval walls were woodlots, orchards,  and many ancient monuments.  Some of these were monuments of antiquity, while others were basilicas or churches (or remnants thereof) that honored the early Christians who had been martyred by the pagan Romans.  Medieval pilgrims who came to Rome, of which there were always a large number, would visit both the Christian sites and the monuments erected by the ancient Caesars.  There was indeed a popular twelfth-century guidebook, "The Marvels of Rome," which instructed pilgrims on many of the interesting things to see.

Even now, Rome is thick with ancient sites that disrupt traffic and hopelessly delay things like subway tunnels or new sewer lines.  With a thousand year less of wear and tear, medieval Rome had even more.

In my most recent book, "The Knight of the Short Nose," the hero goes to Rome on pilgrimage and, following the guidebook, visits many of these sites.  (He also ends up in a fight to the death with the champion of a king who wants to sack Rome, but you have to read the book to find out what happens.)

The most important site in Rome was the basilica of Saint Peter's.  It was built over what was supposed to be the tomb of Peter, leader of the apostles, and there was a grate in the floor through which the faithful could lower bits of cloth to touch his bones, thus creating their own tertiary relics.  It was not actually within the walls of the medieval city, being instead on the outskirts, across the Tiber river.  The pope built walls around Saint Peter's and the immediately surrounding area in the ninth century.

This was not the Renaissance basilica of Saint Peter's that is there today; that was built only in the sixteenth century.  Old Saint Peter's went back to the fourth century and was considered hopelessly dark and old-fashioned when it was replaced.

Peter was certainly not the only saint venerated in Rome.  In fact, the city was thick with them, both saints who had died in Rome and saints who had died elsewhere but were honored there, with their own altars if not indeed own churches.  And then there were the countless people buried in the catacombs, tunnels below the city where originally building stone had been quarried out (see image below).  The catacombs had become a Roman graveyard, and early Christians met there if they feared persecution, not fearing the dead as did the pagan Romans.  Relics from Rome saw a brisk trade throughout the Middle Ages.

A good recent book on early medieval Rome is by Maya Maskarinec, City of Saints (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2018).

© C. Dale Brittain 2022
For more on medieval churches and pilgrimage, see my new ebook, Positively Medieval: Life and Society in the Middle Ages.  Also available in paperback.

Church of the Sepulchre

 The church of the Sepulchre is one of the holiest spots in Christendom.  This church, located in the old city of Jerusalem, originally built in the fourth century and added to over the centuries, is built over what is believed to have been Jesus's tomb, from which He rose.  It was naturally a holy spot for medieval Europeans, and many churches in the west adopted elements of its style in deliberate imitation.

The church is noted for having a rotunda, with a dome over it, rather than adopting the standard basilica pattern of most early churches, a long central aisle with side aisles on either side, and a crossing perpendicular to the aisles toward the end opposite the main entrance.  The rotunda encircles the site of the tomb.  This circular style was adopted by Charlemagne's palace chapel at Aachen and in the crypts of many other churches.  For example, the early eleventh-century crypt of St.-Bénigne of Dijon has a circular chapel, as seen here.

 There is a real mix of architectural styles in Jerusalem, even before you get into the modern city which is now Israel's capital.  There are buildings whose roots go back to the Hebrew kings, though mostly those have been built over.  There are plenty of structures from when the Holy Land was part of the Hellenistic world (after Alexander the Great had conquered the area), then  buildings dating from the Roman empire, then Byzantine buildings, then Muslim structures built from the seventh century on, then Crusader structures from the twelfth century, and finally Turkish architecture.  The church complex has been influenced by all of these.

Christians from Europe made pilgrimages to the church of the Sepulchre from the time it was built.  Even when Jerusalem was under Muslim control, it was usually possible to visit the Christian holy sites.  Such a trip would be a trip of a lifetime, with the Sepulchre itself the high point, though all of the Holy Land was thick with places mentioned in the Bible.  It was not a trip to be undertaken lightly, as it would probably take a couple of months just to get there, but some went there several times, usually to try to get out of a particularly bad situation, where volunteering to go on pilgrimage would forestall plans to put one to death for one's crimes.

Originally the area had been a stone quarry back under the Hebrew kings, then, once no longer in use as a quarry, it was used as a cemetery, with burials in little caves cut into the quarry walls.  The emperor Hadrian thought it a great place for a Roman temple.  But when the emperor Constantine made Christianity legitimate in the fourth century, he had this temple torn down.  The local Christian community told him that Jesus's (temporary) burial place had been there, and while tearing down the temple a cave tomb was discovered which has been identified as Jesus's ever since.

The circular rotunda was built over the spot.  Further rebuildings were done in the eleventh century, after the church was partially destroyed by the caliph during a period in which the Muslim rulers of the area decided to get rid of both Christian and Jewish holy sites.  Twelfth-century Crusaders rebuilt again, but the present structure has not been radically changed since.

As one of Christendom's most holy sites, all major Christian groups have claims on the church.  It is currently divided up between Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Armenian Apostolic, Coptic Orthodox, Syriac Orthodox, and Ethiopian Orthodox denominations.  Part of the difficulty of during further renovations is that everyone has to agree.  There is a ladder against one of the upper windows that has been there for three centuries, because the ladder belongs to one group yet is on the part of the church controlled by another, and they cannot agree on moving it.  (Interestingly, it was briefly moved at one point recently, probably by a workman cleaning windows or the like.  Everyone pretended it hadn't happened.)

The church and its complex stand on a site over an acre in size, including numerous other chapels and buildings.  Archaeologists working at the site are discovering much of the site's history.  The spring 2021 issue of Biblical Archaeology Review summarizes recent findings.

© C. Dale Brittain 2021
For more on medieval religion and pilgrimage, see my ebook Positively Medieval, available on Amazon and other ebook platforms.  Also available in paperback.

Conques

One of the loveliest medieval villages in France is Conques.  It was a major stop on the pilgrimage route from Vézelay to Santiago.  Efforts have been made to link the town's name to the cockle shell that was the emblem of pilgrims.  The medieval bridge at the bottom of the village's hill is still called the "Romey" bridge because pilgrims (locally called Romeys, even though they were going to Spain rather than Rome) headed (and head) across it.  (In fact, cars still use it.)

There are a lot of tourists and modern pilgrims in Conques, but once the tour buses leave it is still a stunning place.  The village is dominated by the old abbey church. The monks had the bones of Saint Foy ("Saint Faith"), supposedly a girl who was martyred by the pagan Roman governor because she wouldn't give up her Christian faith.

In fact, unlike most French churches, Conques still has the relics of their saint.  She was hidden during the French Revolution and is now in a little museum.  The golden reliquary is in the shape of a seated person, with a head that appears to be that of a man from Late Antiquity.  It is encrusted with semi-precious stones.

The monastery of Conques claimed to have been founded by Charlemagne (unlikely, as Charlemagne founded no monasteries), and "proved" it by carving Charlemagne on the front of their church.  They also had a curious silver object (probably really from around the year 1100) that I would say looks like the letter V, but they called "Charlemagne's A."  According to the monks, Charlemagne listed the 24 best monasteries in his empire (the medieval alphabet had 24 letters, not 26, because I and J were the same letter, as were U and V) and gave them each a silver letter to show it.  Conques naturally got the A, as best of all.  When asked why, if Charlemagne had been handing out letters, no one else seemed to have them, the monks responded by saying that other houses were too embarrassed to admit that were (for example) way down at X or Y, or even worse, not even on the 24-best list at all.

The monks had Foy's bones because, they said, the (other) church that had had them since Late Antiquity didn't respect her properly.  The monks sent one of their number who pretended to join that church, stole the relics, and miraculously wasn't spotted as he fled (because of course she wanted to leave).

Because Foy was martyred as a girl, twelfth-century accounts say she still is playful and likes to play tricks on people who might not be properly reverent.  Her particular focus is eyes--she will blind evil-doers and restore the sight of those blinded by evil-doers.  If someone came to Conques to seek healing without bringing any of the jewels she expected in return, she might do something like make their hand swell the next time they wore the withheld rings.

Foy also was subversive (a truculent teenager?).  Any noble lord or high official in the church who did something that harmed a poor person was in trouble.  Even her own monks did not get off scot-free, according to twelfth-century accounts.  When they started locking up the church at night to keep out the pilgrims (fearing they would steal the golden reliquary), she broke the locks to let the pilgrims in.

Conques is definitely worth a visit.  Be sure not to miss the treasury/museum with Foy's reliquary.  I knew she was looking after me when my retina detachment surgery was scheduled for a Catholic hospital and the nurses made  me remove my rings before the surgery.  I didn't dare tell Foy I didn't believe in her until after I was healed (fortunately I got both my rings and my vision back). 

© C. Dale Brittain 2018


For more on monasticism, saints, and other aspects of medieval history, see my ebook Positively Medieval, available on Amazon and other ebook platforms.

Vézelay

Today I want to talk about a monastery that, unlike the ones I've been discussing recently, never became the head of a monastic order.  But it was and is an extremely significant one:  the Burgundian monastery of Vézelay.

It was a Benedictine monastery for men for most of the Middle Ages, but it began, interestingly enough, as a nunnery.  Count Girard and his wife, named Bertha, decided in 858 to found two monastic houses in Burgundy, one for men (Pouthières) and one for women (Vézelay).  The couple was buried at Pouthières (which you don't need to worry about, because it always stayed small and obscure).  The nuns at Vézelay soon decided life in a rural monastery was too scary and moved to town, being replaced permanently by monks.

By the eleventh century Vézelay was associated with the highly esteemed monastery of Cluny, but it always retained its own abbot, unlike many other houses in Cluny's order.  It really gained attention when it started asserting that it had the bones of Mary Magdalene.  Supposedly the "three Marys" (the Virgin, the Magdalene, and Mary sister of Martha) had all gotten in a boat after the Resurrection and headed west through the Mediterranean.  They got as far as the mouth of the Rhône, along the Riviera, and Mary Magdalene hopped out.

Though she died there in Provence, the monks of Vézelay wanted everyone to know, she was not happy with how she was treated by Provençal locals and appeared in a vision to the monks, asking to be moved to their monastery.  They were happy to oblige.  The house became a great pilgrimage center, both a place to revere the relics of Mary Magdalene and to begin the long pilgrimage to Santiago in Spain.

The church, built in the first half of the twelfth century, is considered one of the glories of Romanesque architecture.  One of its interesting features is that it is lined up along the axis of the sun, so that on the summer solstice light coming in the high side windows shines right along the church's central aisle, making a path of light.

In the image above, you can see that the choir end of the church, the part at the far end where the altar would have been, is just slightly crooked from the orientation of the nave (the main part of the church).  This is because the choir end was built first, and then the architect realized he needed a slightly different angle for the light-down-the-aisle effect.

At the winter solstice, the light instead would illuminate the capitals, the carvings of Bible scenes at the tops of the pillars.  Vézelay is noted for its striking capitals, as in the scene above showing the death of the rich man in the Dives and Lazarus story.

Vézelay was also the place where the Second Crusade was preached.  The Cistercian abbot Bernard of Clairvaux persuaded King Louis VII to go on what turned out to be a disastrous effort to retake part of the Christian Kingdom of Jerusalem that had recently been retaken by the Muslims.  Pilgrims still flock to Vézelay's hill today, though few seem inclined to take off for the Holy Land.  (Many however head for Spain.  I hear there's a bus.)

© C. Dale Brittain 2018


For more on monasticism, church architecture, and other aspects of medieval history, see my ebook Positively Medieval, available on Amazon and other ebook platforms.

Medieval travel and tourism

When people today are asked about retirement plans, they very frequently say, "I hope to travel."  Being a tourist, traveling around to interesting places, is considered fun and worthwhile, even if only really available to those with leisure time (one wonders if those whose jobs require a great deal of travel have the same attitude toward retirement).

As I have discussed previously, travel in the Middle Ages was a lot harder than it is now.  With human power (walking) the chief form of transport, much of the population might spend most of their lives within a twenty-mile radius.  Horses were for the well to do, and carts, made to transport goods, would have been very uncomfortable to ride in over any distance.

Yet people did travel.  The aristocracy especially traveled a lot.  It was easier to move people than to move food, so large courts would frequently move from place to place, eating up the food at one palace before moving on to the next.  Without modern communication, the only easy way to tell what was happening somewhere was to go there, so kings, dukes, counts, and landlords were constantly on the move, checking things out, passing judgments, hearing complaints, collecting revenue.  And of course you had armies marching back and forth and young men traveling to tournaments.

Tourism as we know it did not exist in the Middle Ages.  Our version really began in the nineteenth century, when well to do young men (rarely women) would undertake a Grand Tour.  Young English gentlemen would travel around the Continent for months, even a few years, picking up culture and art, admiring the scenery, and visiting places of historical significance.  The very word "tourism" comes from taking the Tour.

But modern tourism essentially began with the automobile, after World War I.  It is much, much easier to go visit interesting places when one can hop in the car.  In France, after the Armistice, people wanted to visit the battlefields where so many of their young men had died.  The automobile made this possible, and Michelin especially (maker of car tires) started putting out helpful booklets to let people figure out where to go and what to see.

So modern tourism is a combination of "broadening one's mind" by being exposed to different scenes and ideas, of entertainment by seeing lovely and interesting places, and of education, by learning about history and other useful subjects.  The museums where all this educational information was made available developed along with tourism.

Something that looks like tourism certainly existed in the Middle Ages, but its purpose was very different from broadening one's mind or being entertained or educated.  It was called pilgrimage.

One traveled places to improve one's soul, and the difficulties of the journey were supposed to help improve it, by shaking one out of lethargy or luxury.  The best pilgrimage goal was always Jerusalem, the scene of the Crucifixion, but most Europeans would choose more accessible places to go.

Rome was always a place for pilgrims, full of the bones of early martyrs, the graves of Saints Peter and Paul, and of course the papacy.  Many other spots became pilgrimage centers, from Vézelay in Burgundy (pictured above) to Santiago in northern Spain (and a pilgrimage route ran between these two).  Pilgrims were always interested in lovely architecture, important relics, and holy men (hermits could be visited as part of the pilgrim experience), but they do not seem to have paid as much attention to scenery.

© C. Dale Brittain 2017

For more on medieval travel, see my ebook, Positively Medieval:  Life and Society in the Middle Ages.

Pilgrimage

Medieval pilgrimage was a way to atone for one's sins, a way to grow spiritually, a way to seek healing, and a way to get the heck out of town.

Pilgrimage began in the first centuries of Christianity, when the faithful from communities all around the Mediterranean decided to travel to Jerusalem, to "see the places where Christ's feed trod," as one writer put it.  Pebbles from various holy sites would be brought home as souvenirs.  Even after the Muslims took over the Holy Land, Christian pilgrimage to Jerusalem continued.

Rome was the other major pilgrimage goal in the early Middle Ages, to the extent that the popular Old French term for pilgrims was "Romies," even if in fact they weren't headed for Rome.  Here one could visit the tombs of Saint Peter and Paul, perhaps get a glimpse of the pope (revered in the abstract as Peter's successor, on whom see more here), and pick up the bones of a purported martyr in the catacombs.

By the eleventh century, another major pilgrimage destination emerged, Santiago in northwest Spain.  This was where Saint James, Jesus's brother (or step-brother), had supposedly died after taking ship in the Holy Land, and sailing the length of the Mediterranean and up the Atlantic coast.  (Iago is the same name as rendered as James in English.)

Major pilgrimage routes quickly became established all across western Europe, leading to Santiago.  The best known starting point for this trip was Vézelay, in Burgundy (the interior of this early twelfth-century church is shown above).  The monks of Vézelay claimed to have the bones of Mary Magdalene.  She had supposedly also taken ship from the Holy Land, but unlike James she put in at the Riviera.  According to the monks of Vézelay, she was not suitably appreciated there, which is why they brought her bones to where they could be properly revered.

The Santiago pilgrim's route is still popular today, though few walk the whole distance (there are, I hear, regular buses to take modern pilgrims over the Pyrenees and across the long and dusty miles of northern Spain).  Medieval pilgrims, however, walked the whole thing, planning on about twenty miles a day.  Given that a lot were ill and going to seek healing, this is quite impressive.

Pilgrims on the way to Santiago wore badges in the shape of a cockleshell, the saint's emblem.  Churches on the pilgrimage route were built with very large enclosed porches, where pilgrims would sleep on the floor.

Someone accused of a crime could often get out of their richly deserved punishment by taking off on pilgrimage.  Fulk Nerra, count of Anjou, went as a pilgrim to Rome five times, staying away until the excitement blew over (from such peccadillos as killing his wife).

Initially what we call Crusades were referred to as pilgrimages.  Those going on the journey wore the sign of the cross, rather than a cockleshell.  These armed journeys to the Holy Land were indeed treated as opportunities to see the land Christ's feet had trod, as well as to kill Muslims.

© C. Dale Brittain 2014
For more on medieval religion, see my new ebook, Positively Medieval: Life and Society in the Middle Ages.