A Brief History of Food: Eels

What’s in a name?

The name “eel” descends from the Old English word ǣl. Famously, the cathedral city of Ely in Cambridgeshire, England, derives its name from a time when eel fishing was a vital local activity in the surrounding fenland waters. Further afield, the large lake of Almere that existed in the early Mediæval Netherlands was also named after the eels that lived in its waters. The Dutch word for eel is aal or ael, so: “ael mere” translates into English as “eel lake”. More recently, the name has been preserved in the new city of Almere in Flevoland which was named in 1984 after the body of water on which the town was built.

Part of the order of Anguilliformes, the humble eel is one of more than 800 species of teleost fishes that are characterised by elongate wormlike bodies. In fact, the order consists of eight suborders, 20 families, 164 genera, and about 1,000 species. With such diversity, the focus of this article is on the common freshwater eel which has been an important food source for millennia.

Eels have a remarkable life cycle. Broadly, it consists of development and early growth in the open ocean through the stages of the planktonic (free-floating) dispersal of eggs and larvae, metamorphosis, juvenile and adult growth, and the migration of maturing adults to an oceanic spawning area. During their juvenile and adult life, most eels are solitary fishes, swimming slowly by means of sinuous lateral movements of the body and median fins. Essentially carnivores, during the several years of growth to maturity, eels feed diversely on free-floating planktonic or bottom-dwelling (benthic) animals. Maturity is reached after about 10 years in the European freshwater eel (Anguilla anguilla) but possibly much earlier in tropical marine species. The process of growth and maturation has been most closely studied in the European freshwater eel. In this species, both sexes pass through successive phases of neutrality, early onset feminization and juvenile hermaphroditism before environmental factors determine whether the eel will be definitively male or female.

All eels apparently undertake either a short or long distance migration at maturity to a spawning area. These are generally located over the continental slope or in ocean basins some distance offshore. Working on massive collections of larvae from 1905 to 1930, a Danish biologist, Johannes Schmidt, established the early life history of the European and American freshwater eels (Anguilla rostrata). He claimed that both species reproduced within the Sargasso Sea before using ocean currents to disperse to their respective freshwater habitats in Europe and North America. Although parts of his work have been questioned, especially the process by which these eels returned to their spawning areas, his description of a western Atlantic spawning and a trans-Atlantic dispersal of the larvae of these eels is still largely accepted. Contemporary studies suggest, however, that adult American and European eels use a combination of chemical, geomagnetic, and geographic cues to return to separate spawning areas east of the Sargasso Sea near the Mid-Atlantic Ridge.

Eels as food

Eel blood is toxic to humans and other mammals so eating eels seems somewhat counterintuitive, but both cooking and the digestive process destroy the toxic protein. This simple expedient means common freshwater eels continue to be mostly eaten in Europe and the United States. Yet high consumption, especially in European countries, has resulted in those eel species becoming critically endangered. 

Up to World War Two jellied eels were a traditional and popular East London food, but post-war demand has significantly declined. Elvers, often fried, were once a cheap dish in the United Kingdom until, during the 1990s, their numbers collapsed across Europe. Since then they have become a delicacy, and the UK’s most expensive fish species.

Eels as currency?

Throughout the Mediæval period and up to the early modern era, eels were used as currency. People in England paid their rent, and sometimes other debts, using eels. With very little hard currency in circulation peasants often had no money and thus landlords collected in-kind rents. Indeed, Domesday Book records numerous instances of rents being paid in grain, honey, eggs and other produce. Eel rents, however, were by far the most common.

At the turn of the 12th-century more than 500,000 eels were due in rent in England each year. Over the course of the century hard currency became more available and in-kind rents disappeared. Eel rents, however, continued in popularity up to the Black Death in the mid-14th-century before slowly disappearing thereafter. The last recorded eel rent was paid from a Norfolk mill in the 1680s.

Most eels paid to landlords were eaten by them, but some were used to pay for other things. For example, in the 11th-century Ramsey Abbey paid Peterborough Abbey 4,000 eels per year for the rights to quarry building stone from Barnack in Cambridgeshire. Payment was to be made to the monks in Peterborough at the beginning of Lent, an ideal time as the eating of meat was prohibited on religious grounds. Unsurprisingly agreements and charters establishing eel rents often demanded they be paid in the spring. Most of these eels were sexually mature adults that were caught in the autumn during their downstream migration to the sea to spawn. Over the winter months these “silver eels”, as they were known, would be salted and then cold-smoked to preserve them for storage. Eventually, the autumn catch would provide landlords with a spring’s worth of church-approved food.

A couple of recipes

Elus Bakyn in Dyshes (“Eels baked in dishes”) is a 15th-century English recipe found in MS Harley 5401 housed in the British Library (Hieatt, 1996, 54-71):

Eles & cowche þam in a dysh, & cast on salt & saferon & powdyre of pepyr, & couer þat dysh with anoþer dysh & set it on þe coles, & turn þe dysh aboute and put in a lityll wyne in þe fyrst tyrne for savyng of þe vessell, & put þe hot coles in a hole in þe erth & so lat it bolyle, & serof it forth.

Eels & lay them in a dish, & cast on salt & saffron & powder of pepper, & cover that dish with another dish & set it on the coals, & turn the dish about and put in a little wine in the first turn for saving of the vessel, & put the hot coals in a hole in the earth & let it boil, & serve it forth.

A modern take on the recipe is reproduced below from the website “Gode Cookery”, a superb resource for anyone wishing to recreate dishes from the Mediæval and Renaissance periods.

From website Fabulous Fusion Food is a classic dish of Elys in Brewet (Eels in Broth). Taken from the 14th-century collection of Mediæval English recipes known as the Forme of Cury, the eels are prepared, sliced and cooked in a wine-based sauce, which is flavoured with spices and thickened with breadcrumbs:

ELYS IN BREWET: Take Crustes of brede and wyne and make a lyour, do þerto oynouns ymynced, powdour. & canel. & a litel water and wyne. loke þat it be stepid, do þerto salt, kerue þin Eelis & seeþ hem wel and serue hem forth.

Eels in Broth: Take breadcrumbs and wine and mix together, then add diced onions, powdered ginger and cinnamon and a little water and wine. Ensure that it is steeped then season with salt. Slice your eels and boil them thoroughly and serve them forth.

Bon appétit!

References:

Hieatt, C.B., (1996), “The Middle English Culinary Recipes in MS Harley 5401: An Edition and Commentary”, Medium Ævum vol. 65, no. 1, pp. 54-71.

Matterer, J. L., (2000) “Elus Bakyn in Dyshes”, from A Boke of Gode Cookery, available online (accessed 19th May 2026). 

Wyatt Green, J, (March 2026), “Is it true that eels were used as currency?”, Q&A, History Extra Magazine, London: Immediate Media, p.63.

Dispelling Some Myths: Medieval diversity

Despite the best efforts of historians, the internet is still awash with misconceptions about the Middle Ages. Many of these ideas were the product of Victorian writers and historians reflecting Mediæval life through the lens of their own society, as was done by antiquarians before and by historians since. However, after more than a century in popular culture and taught in schools, these sometimes broad, sweeping assertions remain deeply rooted in everyday consciousness, especially when repeatedly reinforced online, in social media, on television and in the movies. Before addressing one such notion, it is worth remembering that the Mediæval period lasted roughly 1,000 years during which peoples’ lives and experiences varied according to time, place and circumstance. With that in mind, just how diverse was mediæval Britain?

A previous post (Horrible History: Colour-blind history) raised Tastes Of History’s unease with how we are all increasingly encouraged to be gender neutral or colour blind in media portrayals of history whether that be on television, in films, in video games, or even in textbooks. In the post we used three instances of history documentaries, historically themed docudramas and straightforward television productions that had engaged in colour-blind or identity-conscious casting. While we were at pains to avoid being critical of actors playing a role, the chosen case studies were intended to highlight historical inaccuracies and then present a more accurate version of history. Wherever possible it is hoped we learnt something from critiquing each example.

People never travelled

This article seeks to dispel a couple of related “myths” we have encountered concerning how widely travelled people were in the Mediæval world and thus how diverse were Mediæval societies. There seems to be a popular perception that people rarely travelled much beyond their village or town. If travel broadens the mind, then some might be tempted to infer this is why Mediæval folk were ignorant of so much that we take for granted today. Some might contend that people thinking the earth was flat in the Middle Ages is proof of such ignorance and an indicator of their unwillingness to travel. Yet, flat-earthers, this is simply not true as we explained here.

What would be true is that many individuals did not have the chance or opportunity to travel very far, but the idea of it being extremely rare is incorrect. It was common for folk to travel to fairs and markets in neighbouring towns. Those of marriageable age might meet their intended at said fair or marketplace and, once married, one spouse may have relocated to a new town or village some miles away. Many people undertook pilgrimages to visit shrines and relics, sometimes in quite distant places, travelling many miles. The Canterbury Pilgrimage Route, for example, is a historic path known as “The Pilgrims’ Way” that connects Winchester with Canterbury Cathedral and the shrine of Saint Thomas Becket [1]. Following ancient trackways dating to 600-450 BC (or even earlier), the pilgrimage route is 119 miles (192 km) long taking travellers through the scenic southern English countryside. Pilgrimages remain popular today being undertaken to such destinations as Jerusalem, Rome, Santiago de Compostela, Fátima, Lourdes or Einsiedeln. Indeed, pilgrim badges and souvenirs, such as the examples pictured from the British Museum’s collection, have been found all over Europe and it was not just the rich and wealthy who took the time to make these journeys.

Alongside the pilgrims the byways of this country were crisscrossed by messengers, embassies, merchants, vagabonds, preachers, missionaries, scholars, and soldiers. More widely, trade drove travel and exploration. Access to the lucrative spice trade, for example, propelled Cristoforo Colombo (aka Christopher Columbus) to circumnavigate the globe westwards to establish a new trade route to India. Little did he know he would “discover” the Americas or indeed instigate a European conquest of the New World and the establishment of transatlantic trade.

Royal progresses

From the Frankish period (ca. AD 751 to AD 887) up to late Mediæval times the usual form of royal or imperial government was the “itinerant court”. Throughout this era Mediæval Western Europe was characterized by migratory forms of government wherein monarchs frequently relocated their court complete with all its entourage. This mobile administration was important at a time when rulers had to be seen to exercise their power in person, especially over potentially rebellious regional nobles, and keep control of their various dynastic lands or kingdom. By constantly changing their residences these realms had no actual centre or permanent seat of government. From the 13th-century, however, itinerant courts were gradually replaced as royal residences began to develop into modern capital cities. Even so, Royal Progresses as they were known remained an important way for English monarchs to govern. After the Wars of the Roses, in his first few years as king, Henry VII (r. 1485 - 1509) travelled widely in England to consolidate his rule. Henry’s successors continued the practice, with the last Tudor Royal Progress undertaken by Queen Elizabeth I in the summer of 1602, mere months before she died in March 1603.

Without a doubt Elizabeth was renowned for moving her court away from her great palaces during the summer months to visit the homes of various favoured courtiers in turn. Naturally, there were practical reasons for such progresses. Firstly, the royal “palaces could be ‘purged’ after several months of residency, especially once the stench of human ordure had become too much to tolerate” (Lamb, 2012). With the Queen absent the royal apartments would be swept and scrubbed clean. Aromatic herbs were burnt to dispel bad smells, and the palace cesspits dug out and emptied. Indeed, it was widely believed even into the 17th-century that “bad air” [2], the polluted stench of towns and cities, spread pestilence and disease. So, the second reason behind the court exodus was a very real fear of plague. By contrast the fresh air of the countryside was believed a protection against sickness making a Royal Progress during the spring and summer eminently sensible. The scale of Elizabeth’s annual Progresses was an enormous logistical undertaking. Not only did the Queen take the bulk of her courtiers with her on these trips around the country, but she was also accompanied by a fleet of her own household servants, including laundresses, seamstresses, cooks and grooms. What is more she travelled with all the usual accoutrements of her court including “selections of gowns and finery for the Queen and her ladies, hats, shoes, jewellery, goblets and tableware, precious books, even a selection of her palace furniture in case the house she visited was too humble for her taste” (Lamb 2012). Additional servants would be needed to tend to the courtiers, particularly the members of the Privy Council who were ordered to accompany the Queen. To host Elizabeth's Progress was considered a great honour, even though the unfortunate courtier charged with housing, feeding, and entertaining this vast travelling retinue would be expected to bear the cost of almost every expense incurred. Undoubtedly many such courtiers hoped to recoup their losses by increasing their status at court.

Not racially diverse?

By now it should be fairly evident that in the Middle Ages people travelled far more than some today might assume. In Mediæval towns and cities could be found merchants, sailors and pilgrims from all over the then known world. Even smaller villages were visited by outsiders during market days, fairs, or special occasions. Yet, with all this movement of people Mediæval society was still not as racially diverse as it is today or as it is sometimes portrayed in historically themed films or costume dramas on television. This leads us to the second related “myth” that the kingdoms and principalities across Mediæval Europe were ethnically homogenous, and Europeans would never have seen or interacted with anyone of African or Asian ancestry. Yet, seeing a black person on the streets of Mediæval London would not have been as remarkable as one might think. Albeit in small numbers, people from northern and sub-Saharan Africa had been resident in Britain since Roman times.

In 1901, the skeletal remains of a woman were uncovered in an ancient grave in York. Dated to the second half of the 4th-century AD, her remains were discovered in a stone coffin along with ivory bracelets, earrings, pendants and other expensive possessions suggesting she held a high-ranking position within Roman York (Eboracum). Predictably she became known as the “Ivory Bangle Lady”. Over a century later modern isotope analysis revealed she had spent her early years in a warmer climate, and the morphology of her skull indicated she had some North African ancestry. The discovery provided evidence that early Britain may have been more ethnically diverse than previously believed. More significantly, her status also contradicts any simplistic notions that just because she had African ancestry, she would have been enslaved.

Just over 50 years later, in 1953, another ancient skeleton was discovered at Beachy Head, East Sussex. The identity of this individual was not revealed until 2014 when modern forensic techniques including isotope analysis, radiocarbon dating and facial reconstruction, concluded the skeleton was female and had lived around AD 200-250. It was determined she was lived in a Roman area in the south-east of England, had died in her early twenties and had sub-Saharan African ancestry. She became the earliest known black Briton, and her discovery supports the view that people from beyond the North African Roman border were also present in 3rd-century AD Britain.

The 1950s also saw the archaeological excavation in York of the largest number of human skeletons from Roman Britain ever exhumed. These individuals were also dated to the 3rd-century AD, with several of them being of African origin. Importantly they reflected the various levels of society from the enslaved to soldiers and once again demonstrated that Roman York may well have been more diverse than previously thought. Since then, other archaeological discoveries have shown further African presence in Roman Britain. The University of Leicester uncovered 83 skeletons in a Roman graveyard, with some of the individuals dating to as early as the 2nd-century AD. Six of the skeletons were found to have African cranial features, two of whom appearing to have been born in England. DNA analysis on a group of Roman Londoners also revealed two with North African ancestry.

There were other Africans who built and garrisoned Hadrian’s Wall. A 3rd-century AD inscription from Burgh-by-Sands near Carlisle attests that a cohort of Mauri from northwest Africa were present. As part of the Roman auxiliary forces, Syrians helped to establish and to build the province of Britannia. In the corpus of Roman inscriptions from Britain, there are numerous examples of individuals who identify as Syrians by nationality. The single most remarkable instance is attested on a lavish (and undoubtedly expensive) memorial discovered in Arbeia (South Shields) at the eastern end of Hadrian’s Wall. The inscription mourns the death of Regina, a 30 year old woman of the Catuvellauni tribe whose lands consisted of the home counties north of London. Significantly, the inscription declares she was a freedwoman and the wife of one Barathes, a native of Palmyra in Syria. Moreover, from his own tombstone we learn he was flag seller, but we can only wonder what the background to their relationship might have been and what Regina and Barathes were doing in Roman Britain near Hadrian’s Wall.

Middle Saxon England included notable churchmen such as Hadrian, the late 7th-/early 8th-century Abbot of Saint Augustine’s Abbey in Canterbury [3] who, according to Bede, was “by nation an African” (Bede, Historia Ecclesiastica, IV.1). Born between AD 630 and AD 637, Hadrian is thought to have grown up in Libya Cyrenaica and was thus a Berber. He moved to Italy after the mid-7th-century Arab conquest of North Africa. He was a noted teacher and commentator of the Bible, was abbot of a monastery near Naples, and travelled widely. He arrived in England sometime after May 669 having been charged by Pope Vitalian to accompany his friend Theodore of Tarsus, the newly appointed archbishop of Britain.

While evidence of an African presence in Roman Britain has been well documented, the relative size of that population is far from certain. For now, however, maintaining an appropriate historical balance is desirable. So, contrary to the current colour-blind casting trend, the available data suggests that non-Europeans were not as commonplace in Mediæval England as today’s media would have us believe. That said, late Mediæval/early Modern (Tudor) records do document groups of Persians, Indians and “Moors” [4] (North African Berbers or Arabs [5]) living freely in small communities in Britain. In fact, from the entries in parish records for London in the 16th-century quite a few “moors” and “negroes” are listed not just living in the city but married and with children.

From 1993 to 2006, Professor Susan Black and her team carried out a series of archaeological digs in the cemetery of the Greyfriars monastery in Ipswich, Suffolk. Nine skeletons from Sub-Saharan Africa origin were found at the grave site. Their presence potentially illustrates even earlier the role of Africans in the Crusades of the 13th-century. The forensic investigation of one of the skeletons was highlighted in the BBC programme History Cold Case (Series 1, Episode 1 “Ipswich Man”), first broadcast in July 2010. The remains dubbed “Ipswich Man” were believed to have been brought back to Mediæval Britain by returning crusaders around AD 1270.

Returning to the Tudor period, in 2021 it was reported that multi-isotope analysis on the teeth of eight crew members found among the remains of the Tudor warship Mary Rose [6] revealed Henry VIII’s favourite ship had a diverse crew. The research by Cardiff University, in partnership with the Mary Rose Trust and the British Geological Survey, revealed chemical tracers remaining within the teeth from the food and water the men consumed in childhood. This provided evidence for their early years geographical location and allowed the team to explore the sources of their diets. Published in the journal Royal Society Open Science, the data suggests as many as three of the eight crew in the study may have originated from warmer, more southerly climates than Britain, such as southern European coasts, Iberia and North Africa. Researchers say the remaining five crew members were likely to have been brought up in western Britain, with further analysis suggesting one of these men was of African ancestry. The team’s findings highlight the important contributions that individuals of diverse backgrounds and origins made to the English navy during this period and adds to the ever-growing body of evidence for diversity in geographic origins, ancestry and lived experiences in Tudor England.

Mediæval society focused on religion and its doctrine but not so much on race, and certainly not as a form of inequality between humans. In his book “Black and British” (2021), David Olusoga offers a revealing insight into medieval perspectives on blackness and whiteness. To call someone “black” in Shakespeare's England, for example, was an insult but not necessarily one connected with that person’s race. Rather the colour itself was charged with negative symbolism. In contrast, “whiteness” embodied purity, virginity, and divinity. The concept is immortalised when Queen Elizabeth I whitened her skin with lead-based makeup to symbolise her status as the  “virgin queen”. Put simply, in the ages old “good versus evil” trope, black was widely understood to signify bad while white denoted good.

While in Europe

Beyond Britain, Mediæval Europe stretched southward to the Mediterranean Sea where, in southern Spain and Italy, interaction with people from the African continent was far more common. By the 1600s as much as 5–7% of the population in Portugal had origins in Africa. Statistically speaking that is not a large percentage of the population of the Iberian Peninsula but the evidence gives the lie to any notion that Mediæval Europe was wholly “white”. Africans and Asians were most definitely present albeit in comparably small numbers.

It would be unfair, and unwise, to claim that all of Europe was racially diverse for the entire Mediæval period. Likewise, it would be equally inaccurate to claim that for 1,000 years across the whole continent there were only ever white folks. Yes, it could be argued that those living in more remote, little inland villages, the chances of meeting people of darker skin tones or of other cultures or “races” was statistically unlikely. Yet, it is not impossible. From the historical evidence it is clear Mediæval people both travelled often, and that Europeans, Africans and Asians lived, worked and died alongside each other in the towns and cities of Britain and further afield. Bon appétit!

References:

Brown-Leonardi, C., (2021), “The Moors, Black Presence in the United Kingdom Before and After the Tudor Period”, Black History Month Presentations, The Open University, available online (accessed 31 December 2025).

Lamb, V, (2012), “Elizabeth I's Royal Progresses and Kenilworth Castle”, English Historical Fiction Authors blog, available online (accessed 4 August 2025).

Sky History, (2025), “The history of black Britain: Roman Africans”, history.co.uk, available online (accessed 6 August 2025).

Stevenson, C., “The Struggles of Travel in the Middle Ages”, Medievalists.net, available online (accessed 4 August 2025).

Endnotes:

1. You may have heard his name pronounced “Thomas à Becket”, but this was not contemporary with his life. Rather it was first used in the 1590s by Thomas Nashe, an English Elizabethan playwright, poet, satirist and a significant pamphleteer. ▲

2. The Italian word mal'aria is derived from “mala aria”, literally meaning “bad air”, a combination of mala “bad” (fem. of malo, from Latin malus) plus aria “air”. ▲

3. St. Augustine's Abbey was originally the Benedictine Monastery of St. Peter and St. Paul but changed its name after its founder St. Augustine of Canterbury's death. The abbey was founded in AD 598 and functioned as a monastery until its dissolution in 1538 during the English Reformation. After the abbey's dissolution, it underwent dismantlement until 1848 whereupon part of the site was repurposed as boarding houses and a library for The King's School, Canterbury. Today the abbey ruins have been preserved for their historical value.

4. The word “Moor” is a historical term coined by European Christians to describe the Muslim inhabitants of the Maghreb (North Africa), Andalusia (Spain), Sicily, and Malta. It derives from “Mauri,” the Latin name for the Berbers who lived in the Roman province of Mauretania, spanning modern Algeria and Morocco.

5. They call themselves Amazigh, the “proud raiders”, but most people know them as Berbers. This term was introduced in the 7th-century by Muslim Arabs who invaded North Africa. The Berbers have traditionally inhabited the lands lying between the Sahara and the Mediterranean Sea, between Egypt and the Atlantic. Today, most live in Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria and Libya. Contrary to popular opinion, the Berbers are not necessarily nomadic with many living in villages and farming the land or thriving on local industries, such as iron, copper, lead, pottery, weaving and embroidery. For millennia, North African Berbers fought against Roman, Arab and French invaders. Yet, despite a history of colonisation, they have defended their land and preserved their tamazight language and culture.

6. The Mary Rose was a successful warship and served Henry VIII for 34 years. She sank during the Battle of the Solent in AD 1545, off the south coast of England, resulting in the deaths of most of her crew. In 1982, 437 years after she sank, the remains of the Mary Rose and 19,000 artefacts were recovered, many thousands of which are conserved and displayed by the Mary Rose Trust in Portsmouth Historic Dockyard, where they have been the subject of extensive research ever since.

On This Day: Draconian Norman “forest laws” repealed

November 6th, 1217: England’s longest-lasting law, the Charter of the Forest, is sealed extending freedoms to the common people.

A mere two years after King John affixed the Royal Seal to Magna Carta Libertatum (the “Great Charter of Freedoms”) thereby subjecting the sovereign’s power to the law, England’s people gained another extension to their liberties. In November 1217, the 10-year-old King Henry III granted his assent to the Charter of the Forest marking a radical change to more than 100 years of royal tradition. For the first time in England’s history the common people gained legal rights.

Post AD 1066, with the Normans ruling the country, much of the kingdom had been converted into vast hunting estates known as “royal forests”. These included, for example, Sherwood, the New Forest and the whole of Essex. To the Normans a “forest” was a legally defined area where the “beasts of the chase [deer & wild pig] and their habitats including the vert” were for the pleasure of the monarch [1]. In AD 1079, for example, the New Forest in southern England was set aside by William I as his right, primarily for hunting deer. By 1217 it is estimated that royal estates encompassed nearly one-third of southern England.

These royal estates existed beyond the boundaries of the kingdom and were thus places where ordinary rules did not apply. Indeed, the draconian “forest laws” imposed across England by King William I forbade the cutting down of trees and regulated the gathering of fallen timber for firewood, the collection of berries or indeed anything growing within the forest. The Norman system ousted earlier Anglo-Saxon laws in which rights to the forest were not exclusive to the king or nobles but shared among the people (Woodbury, 2012). The common people’s access to their ancestral environment was drastically curtailed.

William’s forest laws established that taking wood from the forest or hunting in banned areas were crimes, the latter specifically known as poaching. Unsurprisingly, the laws were despised by the commonfolk as they were prevented from using the woodland to provide food, fuel and building materials. They were also banned from enclosing their land by fencing or other means, ostensibly to protect crops, as this restricted the hunt. Likewise, they could not use the timber from the woodland for building houses and were not allowed to hunt game, especially the king’s deer, to provide food for their families. For those living in the forest, they were explicitly not allowed to own dogs or a bow and arrows, and, as the “underwood” was also protected, commoners also faced a severe restriction on the availability of fuel. The punishments for breaking the laws could range from fines to, in the most severe cases, death. Repeat offenders, for example, were blinded or executed. In cases where a culprit could not be found, then whole communities might be penalised. Such punishments provided a lucrative income for England’s early Mediæval kings coincidently at a time when taxation was beyond the crown’s control.

In 1215 King John was coerced into adopting Magna Carta but this did not improve relations with his barons. When the king renounced the “Great Charter”, England was quickly cast back into turmoil. The following year, 1216, saw the untimely death (for him at least) of John and the succession of his infant son, Henry; Magna Carta was back on the table. In 1217, the new Charter of the Forest was sealed on behalf of the child king by his regent, William Marshall, Earl of Pembroke, and a papal emissary. Within it were four provisions concerning the royal forests which, across 17 clauses, restricted the crown’s authority over the forests, reduced their size and restored many of the ancient rights enjoyed by commoners before 1066. The charter became the longest-surviving law in English history remaining on the statute books until 1971 when it was superseded by the Wild Creatures and Forest Laws Act. Bon appétit!

Reference:

Woodbury, S. (2012), “Forest Laws in the Middle Ages”, Available online (accessed 18 September 2024).

Endnote:

1. The “vert” in this case is a late Middle English adjective for flora or greenery. The term entered English via Old French from the Latin viridis meaning “green”.

The Bayeux Tapestry

The Bayeux Museum in Normandy which houses The Bayeux Tapestry is set to close for renovation from 1st September 2025 until October 2027. There has been a rumour for a while now that the Tapestry might return to England so the perfect opportunity for this to happen is created by the museum’s refurbishment. Indeed, on 8th July 2025 the Department for Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS) confirmed the Bayeux Tapestry will be displayed in a special exhibition in the British Museum from next Autumn until July 2027. Coincidentally, 2027 is also the 1000th anniversary of the birth of William I, the Conqueror. Regardless, now there is no excuse for Tastes Of History not to see in person this iconic historical record.

Tapestry? Surely, it’s an embroidery?

For those not familiar with the Bayeux Tapestry, it is an embroidered cloth measuring nearly 70 metres (230 ft) long and 500 mm (20 in) tall. It depicts, in “cartoon”-like form, the events leading up to the Norman conquest of England in 1066. In that year William, Duke of Normandy, challenged King Harold II for the English throne, a challenge that culminated in the day long fight now known as the Battle of Hastings on October 14th. For centuries the tapestry has been preserved in Bayeux, Normandy.

The Tapestry is thought to date to the 11th-century having been completed within a few years of the pivotal battle. Widely accepted as being made in England in the 1070s, possibly as a gift for William, it tells the story from the Norman point of view. The cloth comprises 58 scenes, many with accompanying Latin text (tituli [1]), embroidered on linen using coloured woollen yarns. Significantly the designs are embroidered rather than woven and thus the cloth does not meet the narrower definitions of a tapestry. Despite this it has been referred to as a tapestry for so long that, perhaps to the annoyance of many pedants, changing the name to “The Bayeux Embroidery” has yet to gain popular traction.

Scholarly analysis in the 20th-century concluded that the Tapestry was probably commissioned by William's maternal half-brother, Bishop Odo of Bayeux who, after the Conquest, became Earl of Kent and, when William was absent in Normandy, regent of England. Odo as the commissioner is hypothesised because, firstly, three of his followers mentioned in the Domesday Book appear on the tapestry; secondly, it was found in Bayeux Cathedral also commissioned by Odo, and finally it may have been fashioned at the same time as the cathedral's construction in the 1070s. It is thus thought that the Tapestry was possibly completed by 1077 in time to be displayed at the cathedral's dedication.

Whether or not the tapestry was commissioned by Bishop Odo, it is widely held to have been designed and constructed in England by Anglo-Saxon embroiderers. This makes some sense since Odo's main power base was by then in Kent and there are other, similar embroideries originating in England around the same time. Moreover, the vegetable dyes used to colour the woollen threads can also be found in cloth traditionally woven in England, and even the Latin text contains hints of Anglo-Saxon expressions.

Construction

Nine embroidered tabby-woven linen panels, between 3 m and 14 m long, were sewn together to produce one continuous cloth. At the very first join the borders do not align neatly but as the embroiderers’ technique improved, the joins became invisible especially where they were subsequently disguised with needlework. The design has a broad central zone with narrow decorative borders top and bottom. Two methods of stitching in crewel (wool yarn) were used: outline or stem stitch for lettering and the outlines of figures, and couching or laid work for filling in figures.

The start of the tapestry has been restored somewhat and over the centuries the cloth has been patched in numerous places. Some of the embroidery, especially in the final scene, has also been reworked, albeit with some regard for the original stitching. That final scene, however, does not mark the end of the tapestry; that has been missing from time immemorial, and the final titulus “Et fuga verterunt Angli” (“and the English left fleeing”) is said to be “entirely spurious”. It is thought to have been added shortly before 1814 at a time of anti-English sentiment. Despite the repairs and reworking, the tapestry seems to have maintained much of its original appearance when compared closely with a detailed drawing made in 1730.

What does it depict?

The tapestry tells the story of the events of 1064–1066, culminating in the Battle of Hastings, through a series of pictures with supporting Latin text. The two main protagonists are Harold Godwinson, recently crowned King of England, leading the Anglo-Saxon English, and William, Duke of Normandy, leading a mainly Norman army.

William was born in 1027, or more likely towards the end of 1028, in Falaise in the Duchy of Normandy. As the illegitimate son of Robert I, Duke of Normandy, and Herleva (or Arlette), a daughter of Fulbert of Falaise who may have been a tanner or embalmer, for much of his life he was known as “William the Bastard”. His mother may have been a member of the ducal household but did not marry Robert. She did, however, later marry Herluin de Conteville with whom she had two sons – Odo of Bayeux and Count Robert of Mortain – and a daughter whose name is unknown. During William’s minority one of Herleva's brothers, Walter, became his supporter and protector until, as the only son of Robert I, William became Duke of Normandy at the age of seven. By the age of nineteen he was in control of Normandy.

At the time the tapestry starts its narration, England’s king, Edward the Confessor, was about sixty years old, childless and without any clear successor. In the 11th-century accession to the English throne was not by primogeniture whereby the firstborn son succeeded his father. Rather, succession was decided jointly by the king and an assembly of the Anglo-Saxon nobility known as the Witenagemot. The most powerful member of that council was Godwin, Earl of Wessex. As part of the complex ties of kinship and familial relationships, Edward had married Edith, Godwin’s daughter, in 1043 thus making Godwin’s son, Harold Godwinson, Edward's brother-in-law. By 1050 relations between the King and the Earl Godwin had soured, escalating to a crisis in 1051 and the resultant exile of Godwin and his family from England. It was during this exile that, in 1051, Edward offered the throne to William whose great aunt, Emma of Normandy, was Edward's mother. In 1052 Godwin returned from exile with an armed force whereupon a settlement was reached between the King and the Earl restoring the latter and his family to their lands. Earl Godwin died a year later, and Harold succeeded to his father's earldom. Harold’s brother, Tostig, became Earl of Northumbria and later his other brothers were also given earldoms: Gyrth as Earl of East Anglia in 1057 and Leofwine as Earl of Kent sometime between 1055 and 1057.

According to the Norman chronicler William of Poitiers, Harold had reputedly sworn to honour William’s succession to the English throne in accordance with the wishes of King Edward. Some sources even claim that Harold, having taken part in William's Breton campaign of 1064, had sworn on holy relics to uphold William's claim. No English source, however, records the trip and it remains unclear if it, and the related oathtaking, occurred at all. It is just possible that the whole episode was Norman propaganda intended to discredit Harold who, by early 1066, had emerged as the main contender to succeed King Edward.

1066 and all that

On 5th January 1066, after 24 years as king, Edward died. Shortly before he had probably entrusted the kingdom to his wife, Edith of Wessex, and to Edith’s brother, none other than Harold Godwinson. Indeed, Harold claimed Edward, on his deathbed, had made him heir over William. Whether true or not, the Anglo-Saxon nobles of the Witenagemot convened and confirmed Harold’s succession. The following day, January 6th, Edward was buried in Westminster Abbey and Harold was crowned becoming, it is believed, the first English monarch to be crowned in the Abbey.

According once more to the account of William of Poitiers, King Harold II sent an envoy to Duke William shortly before the Battle of Hastings. On behalf of Harold, the envoy admitted that Edward had promised the throne to William but argued that this was over-ridden by his deathbed promise to Harold. In reply, William did not dispute the deathbed promise but argued that Edward's prior promise to him took precedence.

On hearing of Harold's coronation, Duke William began plans to invade England. Seven hundred 700 warships and transports were built at Dives-sur-Mer on the Normandy coast, but William lacked Papal support for the invasion. However, by claiming that Harold had sworn on sacred relics to support William’s claim to the English throne, he eventually received the Church's blessing and Norman nobles flocked to his cause. Across the Channel and in anticipation of the invasion, Harold assembled 1,400 men of the Fyrd on the Isle of Wight. These men only expected to serve for two months under command of their respective Eorl, Bishop or Shire Reeve (sheriff) but, possibly because of unfavourable winds, William’s invasion fleet remained in port for almost seven months. After waiting all summer on the South coast for William’s expected invasion, and with provisions running out, on September 8th Harold was forced to disband the Fyrd. As his army returned to their villages to bring in the harvest, Harold headed to London.

Four days later, on September 12th, Duke William's fleet sailed from Normandy. Several ships sank in storms, which forced the fleet to take shelter at Saint-Valery-sur-Somme and to wait once more for the wind to change.

Vikings!

What follows next is not recorded on the Tapestry as it does not involve William or his fellow Normans. For completeness, however, on the very same day the King of Norway, Harald Hardrada, who also claimed the English crown, invaded. According to most contemporary sources, the Norwegian king and Tostig, King Harold’s brother, met at Tynemouth, a town literally at the mouth of the River Tyne. Harald Hardrada had a force of, at the most, around 10,000 to 15,000 men on between 240 and 300 longships, while Tostig had a mere 12 ships with soldiers.

Meanwhile, on September 20th, the invading forces of Hardrada, which means “hard ruler”, and Tostig defeated the English earls Edwin of Mercia and Morcar of Northumbria at the Battle of Fulford 2 miles South of York. The battle was a decisive victory for Harald and Tostig and led the people of York to surrender to them four days later. This would be the last time a Scandinavian army defeated English forces. however.

Learning of the Viking invasion, King Harold had led his army North on a forced march from London, reaching Yorkshire in four days. The same day as York surrendered to Harald and Tostig, Harold Godwinson arrived with his army in Tadcaster, just seven miles from the anchored Norwegian fleet at Riccall. From there he probably scouted the Norwegian fleet in preparation for a surprise attack but, as Hardrada had left no forces in York, King Harold marched right through the town to Stamford Bridge.

Early on September 25th, Hardrada and Tostig departed their landing place at Riccall with most of their forces, leaving a third behind to protect the ships. The Norwegians wore light armour as they were only expecting to meet the citizens of York at Stamford Bridge, as agreed the day before, to decide who should manage the town under Hardrada. At the meeting point the Norwegians saw King Harold's host approaching, heavily armed and armoured, and greatly outnumbering Hardrada's force. The Anglo-Saxon’s forced march had caught Hardrada and Tostig by surprise.

According to Snorri Sturluson, before the battle a single man rode up to Harald Hardrada and Tostig. He gave no name, but spoke to Tostig, offering the return of his earldom if he would turn against Hardrada. Tostig asked what his brother Harold would be willing to give Hardrada for his trouble. The rider replied: “Seven feet of English ground, as he is taller than other men” before riding back to the Saxon host. Hardrada was impressed by the rider's boldness, and asked Tostig who he was. Tostig replied that the rider was Harold Godwinson himself.

The Norwegian army was decisively beaten, with both Hardrada and Tostig killed. Hardrada wearing no body armour fought in a state of berserkergang (berserker fury) with his sword in two hands until he was struck in the throat by an arrow and killed early in the battle. Although sources state that Hardrada's remaining army only filled 20 to 25 ships on the return to Norway, it is likely that this number only accounts for the Norwegian forces. Most of the men hailing from Scotland and Orkney probably remained at Riccall throughout the battle and were not counted in the traditional figure. Even so, this was the last Viking invasion of England.

The Battle of Hastings

Delayed by wind and tides the Norman fleet finally set sail for England on September 27th. William’s force arrived the following day at Pevensey on the coast of East Sussex where perhaps 7,000 men were landed. Meanwhile, celebrations over the Battle of Stamford Bridge were short-lived. With the Normans arrival, King Harold was forced to march his army South, covering 27 miles/day for 241 miles, to intercept William. On October 13th Harold established his army in hastily built earthworks at Caldbec Hill some 8 miles from William’s castle in Hastings. The following day, October 14th, the Anglo-Saxon army took position on Senlac Hill (near the present town of Battle) near Hastings. From his base, now only 6 miles away, William’s army advanced to meet Harold’s clashing in what we now call the “Battle of Hastings”. After nine hours of hard fighting, Harold was killed, and his forces defeated. Harold’s brothers Gyrth and Leofwine were also killed in the battle, according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle.

Arrow in the eye

The notion that Harold died by an arrow to the eye is a popular belief today, but the identification of England’s king in the vignette depicting his death is disputed. A Norman account of the battle, Carmen de Hastingae Proelio (“Song of the Battle of Hastings”), said to have been written shortly after the battle by Guy, Bishop of Amiens, says that Harold was killed by four knights, probably including Duke William, and his body dismembered. Much later (12th-century) Anglo-Norman histories (such as William of Malmesbury's Gesta Regum Anglorum and Henry of Huntingdon's Historia Anglorum) recount that Harold died by an arrow wound to his head. Later accounts reflect one or both of these two versions.

The figure in the panel of the Bayeux Tapestry containing the inscription “hic Harold Rex Interfectus Est” (“here Harold the King has been killed”) is certainly depicted gripping an arrow that has struck his eye. Many believe the figure with an arrow in his eye must be the king because he is directly beneath the name “Harold”. However, examination of other examples from the Tapestry reveal that the visual centre of a scene, not the location of the inscription, identifies named figures. Some historians, therefore, have questioned whether this man is intended to be Harold or if Harold is supposedly the next figure lying to the right almost supine, being mutilated beneath a horse's hooves. Moreover, some contest that the arrow is a later 18th- or 19th-century modification following a period of repair. In Benoît's engraving of 1729, for example, and in Bernard de Montfaucon's engravings of the tapestry as it was in 1730, a spear or lance is shown in place of the arrow and certainly no fletching. On close inspection, needle holes in the linen suggest something has been removed, or shortened, and fletching added to form an arrow.

A figure is slain with a sword in the subsequent panel, and the titulus above this figure refers to Harold's death (interfectus est, “he was killed”). It is more likely that this figure is intended to be the king slain by the Norman knights attested in the Carmen de Hastingae Proelio. The reference to Harold’s body being dismembered is supported by one account stating: “the two brothers of the King were found near him and Harold himself, stripped of all badges of honour, could not be identified by his face but only by certain marks on his body.” Another source states that Harold's widow, Edith Swanneck [2], was called to identify the body, which she did by some private mark known only to her. Either way, evidence from the Tapestry clearly shows Norman archers at work and it was a tried and tested tactic to loose a volley of arrows at the enemy before a Norman cavalry charge. Perhaps both accounts are accurate and that Harold suffered first the eye wound, then the mutilation, and the Tapestry is depicting both in one scene. Bon appétit!

Endnotes:

1. The term tituli (Latin “inscriptions” or “labels”, sing. titulus) refers to the labels or captions that name figures or subjects that were commonly added to classical and medieval art.

2. “Swanneck” comes from the folk etymology which made her in Old English as swann hnecca, “swan neck”, which was most likely a corrupted form of swann hnesce, “gentle swan”.

Despite the best efforts of historians, the internet is still awash with misconceptions about the Middle Ages. Many of these ideas were the product of Victorian writers and historians reflecting Medieval life through the lens of their own society, as was done by antiquarians before them and by historians since. However, after more than a century in popular culture, and being taught in schools, these sometimes broad, sweeping assertions remain deeply rooted in everyday consciousness. This is especially so when repeatedly reinforced online, in social media, on television and in the movies. Before addressing one such notion, it is worth remembering that the Mediæval period lasted roughly 1,000 years during which peoples’ lives and experiences varied according to time, place and circumstance. So, with that in mind, did Mediæval people really not bathe?

Common people never wash  

Medieval people cared a lot about hygiene and washed, often daily - even peasants, farmers and the poor. All were advised to change their underwear daily and virtually every household account book records payment to washerwomen. So, while it is true that some sources tell us that people rarely took a bath, but it would be quite wrong to assume they did not wash; taking a bath is not the same as washing. The reason behind the disparity is largely one of logistics and finance. Bathing would have involved filling a big wooden tub with hot water, which meant boiling a large volume of water over an open fire necessitating an expenditure in terms of the fuel burnt and the time taken. The hot water would have to be carried and emptied into the tub, which may have been lined with fabric perhaps to guard against splinters or the rough surface of the wood. The use of scented herbs or soap only added to the financial outlay. Thus, bathing in the Mediaeval period took a great deal of time and effort, was a costly enterprise for most, and nowhere near as easy as it is today. Far easier would be to use less hot water in a bucket, bowl or a sitz bath (otherwise known as a hip bath), a smaller tub that one could sit in but did not allow for complete submersion. Admittedly, firewood still needed to be burnt to heat water, but fires were already burning for much of the day in almost every household for warmth, light and food. Hot water could be produced by simply placing an earthenware jug or metal cauldron next to or over the fire. Alternatively, a far older method of heating rocks in the fireplace which could be place into the water to produce hot water in seconds. So, a big fancy bath was a luxury most could not afford but washing with water from a basin or bucket, bathing in a hip bath or immersing oneself in a pond or river was available to everyone.

Bathhouses

While communal or public bathhouses are synonymous with the ancient Romans, they were also common and very popular in Mediæval Europe. For example, London in the 13th-century is known to have had 13 bathing establishments, albeit far fewer than the 32 recorded in contemporary Paris. In the 14th-century, Augsburg and Vienna had 17 and 29 bathing establishments respectively, while in the following century Nürnberg is noted for having fourteen. That said, it is not always clear what sort of establishments these places were. It is unlikely that taverns with bathing facilities, small bathhouses or private baths were counted in the totals. It is much more likely, however, that the records are concerned with large public bathhouses.

There was a very good reason why the mediæval forerunners of the aforementioned cities, and our modern capitals, were sited near a clean water supply. As the 15th-century architect Leon Battista Alberti noted: “a city required a large amount of water not only for drinking, but also for washing, for gardens, tanners and fullers, and drains, and in case of sudden outbreak of fire, the best should be reserved for drinking, and the remainder distributed according to need” [1].

A plumb job  Water distribution via indoor plumbing was rare in Mediæval Europe, but many royal palaces, monasteries, abbeys and the houses of the wealthy had running water together with the means to remove waste. In Britain, much of the work of the Worshipful Company of Plumbers, founded in the 14th-century, involved installing, repairing and maintaining urban conduit pipes. Bath, Bristol, Coventry, Dartmouth, Exeter, Frome, Gloucester, Lichfield, Lincoln, Ludlow, Newcastle, Petworth, Richmond, Southampton, Stamford, Totnes, and a host of other continental towns and cities all had networks of tunnels and pipes to transport and distribute fresh water. In 1237, for example, the City of London acquired the springs of the Tyburn and constructed a small reservoir to help serve the city with a steady, free-flowing water supply. Eight years later work began on the Great Conduit, a man-made underground channel that brought drinking water from the Tyburn to Cheapside in the City. Londoners were at liberty to draw water, although wardens were appointed to stop them taking too much, prevent the unpermitted taking or diversion of the supply, and to repair pipes. Those with the financial means could request extra pipes be connected to their home or, in the case of brewers, cooks, fishmongers, and so on, their place of work.

Spend a penny  It is fairly evident that Mediæval Europeans wanted to bathe. Most castles, monasteries, and houses of the urban elites had private bathhouses or bathrooms. For the commonfolk, just as it had been for the ancient Romans, with work completed then a trip to the local bathhouse was a social occasion where one could get clean while catching up on the gossip. As further evidence that personal hygiene was taken seriously, in some towns those who did not visit a public bath at least once a week could be fined.

Public bathhouses existed in nearly every mediæval city from the 12th-century onward. Permission to operate a bathhouse was granted by the local authorities, as was the entry price and opening times. Most it seems were open at least three days per week, Saturday being the most popular as it marked the end of the working week, while bathhouses were usually closed on Sunday undoubtedly to encourage church attendance. It seems likely that the remaining days in the week were used for cleaning the bathhouse, getting enough wood for the fires, and producing soap.

In some countries employees might be paid a clothing, drinking and bathing allowance in addition to a salary. In 14th-century Rochsburg, for example, accounts reveal the town’s stonemasons receiving 6 pennies a week as “Badegeld” (bathing money or bath tokens). Records from the city of Bamberg (“Bamberger Baderordnung”) reveal that, in 1480, a peasant had to pay 1 Heller (the smallest denomination coin worth ½ a pfennig) to partake of a steam bath in one of the public bathhouses. Naturally fees varied across the Mediæval period and according to region, individual bathhouses, what service(s) the bather desired, and on their social status. Wealthy citizens of Bamburg paid double (1 Pfennig) for a “schwitzbad” (steam bath), while immersing yourself in a tub (“wannenbad”) cost 6 Pfennige, for example. Overall, visiting a bathhouse was affordable for most people less the extremely impoverished. Even so, measures were taken for the poor to bathe for free on certain days, sponsored by the wealthy or the church. 

More rural communities might not have had ready access to a bathhouse, yet people still washed daily. Bathing and laundry might be conducted in a nearby lake, millpond, stream or river although this was not without risk. In 2015 Professor Suzannah Lipscombe demonstrated how water was one of the “Hidden Killers” in Tudor England causing many an unfortunate drowning (right). Indeed, surviving coroners’ reports from the period suggest it was all too easy to fall into the water with potentially lethal consequences. Some may know or have experienced the effect of cold water immersion causing a completely involuntary sudden intake of air. Were the person to be underwater at that moment, they will breathe in cold water and as it hits the larynx, the resulting spasm will cause the individual to suffocate. Even in relatively mild weather the temperature of a river can induce cold water shock leaving a person gasping for air and hyperventilating. Moreover, water takes heat away from your body twenty-five times more quickly than air at the same temperature. Thus, as body heat is rapidly lost, vasoconstriction narrows or constricts the blood vessels to conserve heat, but this increases blood pressure while decreasing blood flow to specific tissues or organs. If the heart does not receive enough oxygen for the muscles to continue pumping, then cardiac arrest occurs.

As well as the cold and shock it would be difficult to keep one’s balance. Voluminous clothing might drag or snag on submerged objects, and any current might act to further unbalance the person or pull them underwater. Getting out is made even more difficult as woollen clothing becomes waterlogged and heavy, a direct result of wool’s structure having two internal layers. While the outer layer is moisture, dirt and stain repellent, the inner layer is uniquely good at absorbing water. In fact wool can absorb more moisture than any other fibre before becoming saturated - up to 1½ times its dry weight. Clothing becomes much heavier hampering any escape from the river’s clutches.

Extras?  Mediæval bathhouses were not brothels. Once again from Bamberg we know that prostitutes and children who still needed breastfeeding were not allowed in the city’s public bathhouses. Furthermore, travellers visiting a local bathhouse sometimes reported their disappointment at the appropriate and modest behaviour within. Yet, municipal authorities understood, with men and women stripping off to relax with a drink in the hot water of a bath, things could get a little risqué. Accordingly, in many regions there were very strict laws about keeping men and women segregated either in separate bathhouses or at different times of the day. Any man caught sneaking into the women’s bathhouse risked severe punishment. We should remember, and not be drawn into salacious gossip, that Mediæval bathhouses were an important place of social gathering for communities and neighbourhoods. Townsfolk visited them together with their entire family. So, with grandparents, parents, children, infants and even the neighbours all potentially present, having a naughty encounter with someone was not at all easy.

Barring prostitutes from most bathhouses did not necessarily curtail illicit behaviour, however. Human nature has meant that from the earliest times bathhouses and brothels have often been synonymous. Contrary to some popular misconceptions, Mediæval church authorities recognised this but did not object to people bathing. The fear of debauchery and sin encouraged the church’s objections but not an outright ban. While it was true that some may have forsaken bathing and other pleasures as a penance, the church remained keen to ensure its flock was free from sin. In practice this meant the church disapproved of sloth, vanity, and ideas that people should frequent baths for hours purely for pleasure. So, while Pope Gregory the Great (ca. AD  540 – AD 604) recommended Sunday baths, he also warned against them becoming a “time-wasting luxury”. Any supposed “anti-bathing policy” is further undermined when one considers washing has a central role in Christian beliefs. From Mary bathing Jesus to Jesus washing the feet of the poor and saints bathing the sick, keeping clean was a virtue. And if that was not enough, some churches even ran their own bathhouses to keep people from bathing and sinning at the same time.

Hotbed of disease

In 1347, and not for the first time, plague struck Europe. Now known as the Black Death, this bubonic plague pandemic, occurring from 1346 to 1353, was one of the most fatal in human history. As many as 50 million people may have perished; perhaps 50% of Europe's 14th-century population. Unsurprisingly, with a highly contagious disease killing millions, people started to avoid bathhouses. Fearful of getting sick from a touch or even breathing the same air, no one wanted to get in a tub with some strangers or visit other busy public places. When plague struck again, the Dutch philosopher Erasmus wrote in AD 1526:

“Twenty-five years ago, nothing was more fashionable in Brabant than the public baths. Today there are none…the new plague has taught us to avoid them.”

The various waves of plague shifted the focus for hygiene among some people from washing their body to washing their clothes. The fear that hot water would open the skin’s pores and permit infection drove some to wash and bathe less frequently. Greater effort, however, went into changing their underclothes more regularly and washing them routinely. We should not assume that people stopped washing all together - many simply used a fresh cloth and cold water to rub themselves clean. But such a change in behaviour might explain why mention of fully immersive and public bathing waned at this time. It is also possible that awareness of the declining use of bathhouses in the period, coupled with reading how people bathed less often, fuelled the common and persistent misunderstanding that mediæval people were filthy and never washed. 

Soap

Iron Age  No bathing practice would be complete without some form of soap, which had been used in Europe for thousands of years. The Gauls, Germans and other northern European Iron Age tribes are all known to have manufactured and used soap before the Roman era. The Romans themselves eschewed soap in favour of oils to clean their bodies, but they appear to have been very impressed with what they found as they conquered northwestern Europe. According to Aelius Galenus (anglicised as Galen or Galen of Pergamon), a Greek physician, surgeon and philosopher in the Roman Empire (AD 129 to ca. AD  200/ 216), German soap was regarded as the best. Even earlier Gaius Julius Caesar, Gaius Plinius Secundus (Pliny the Elder), Publius Cornelius Tacitus and the Greek physician Aretaeus of Cappadocia all wrote about German tribespeople using soap, bathing and generally caring about their hygiene:

• In Chapter 21 of Book VI of De Bello Gallico, written between 58 and 49 BC, Caesar notes that the Germans “bathe promiscuously in the rivers”.

• Over a century later Pliny the Elder records in Chapter 47 of Book XXVIII of Naturalis Historia (“Natural History”) that: “Soap too, is very useful for this purpose, an invention of the Gauls for giving a reddish tint to the hair. This substance is prepared from tallow [2] and ashes, the best ashes for the purpose being those of the beech and yoke-elm: there are two kinds of it, the hard soap and the liquid, both of them much used by the people of Germany, the men, in particular, more than the women.”

• In Chapter XXII of his work De origine et situ Germanorum (“On the Origin and Situation of the Germans”), written around AD 98, Tacitus provides a general description of the Germanic peoples that includes the observation: “As soon as they wake up, usually late, they wash themselves oftentimes with warm water like those accustomed to a prolonged winter.”

• In Book II of his De curatione diuturnorum morborum (“On the cure of chronic disease”), written ca. 2nd-century AD, Aretaeus of Cappadocia notes “There are many other medicines…of the Celts, which are men called Gauls, those alkaline substances made into balls, with which they cleanse their clothes, called soap, with which it is a very excellent thing to cleanse the body in the bath.”

Pliny the Elder’s comment about soap giving a reddish tint to Gallic hair is probably an example of his misunderstanding or, in true Plinian style, a complete fabrication. The combination of tallow and ash is unlikely to produce any form of hair dye, but it does imply that soap was being used to clean hair. However reliable Pliny might or might not be, it is interesting that he mentions both hard and liquid soaps. Might this suggest different uses? Determining whether soap was being used to cleanse the body or hair, to launder clothing as a degreaser, as a general cleaning agent, or for medical purposes is difficult to establish as the historical sources can be somewhat vague. Moreover, errors in translation and transcription over time can cast a shadow on a manuscript’s reliability. For example, while Zosimos of Panopolis described both soap and the process of making it circa AD 300, most of his work only survives in later translations and compilations meaning we cannot be 100% certain it is indeed Zosimos’ work. Regardless, in typical Roman style, soap was widely traded across the Empire and as already mentioned, that from Germania was considered of uniquely high-quality by scholars in Egypt, Rome, and Palestine.

Iberian Golden Age  The Muslim conquest of the Iberian Peninsula ca. AD 711 to AD 720s, also known as the Arab conquest of Spain, resulted in the end of Christian rule in most of Iberia and the establishment of Muslim Arab-Moorish rule in that territory, which became known as al-Andalus under the Umayyad dynasty. Among the many benefits introduced by the Moors were new types of hard soap of a higher quality. In the very south of Europe, and more so in the Middle East and Northern Africa, soaps with ingredients like olive oil and aromatic herbs soon replaced local versions made with tallow. Initially these oil-based soaps were more expensive because of transporting the ingredients but as trade links stabilised and improved, Europeans quickly started importing the oil to make their own soap. The soap industry became a massive enterprise across Mediæval Europe which soon saw the establishment of Guilds for the skilled men and women involved in its production and trade. Naples had a soap maker’s guild from the 6th-century, and France a century later. At a more local level, many people grew plants like the native European Saponaria officinalis, better known as common Soapwort, in their gardens. The plant contains saponins from which a liquid soap can be produced by soaking the leaves in water.

The authentic Mediæval experience

Having hopefully dispelled some of the myths while showing that personal hygiene was taken seriously, what would a Mediæval person smell like? From Tastes Of History’s plentiful experience delivering our cooking demonstrations, the short answer is…smoke. Every household relied on woodfires to produce warmth, and light in their homes and for cooking. The smoke from such fires is inescapable especially in an era before chimneys were commonplace and where fumes were left to ascend to the roof and filter out through the thatch. Smoke impregnates woollen clothing and hair, even if a head-covering is worn. So, whether someone washed every day or not, used soap, deodorant or perfume (for those who could afford such luxuries), the Mediæval world smelt of smoke.

As for body odour, once again our practical experience has repeatedly shown that linen undergarments are excellent at absorbing and neutralising odours. Linen’s anti-bacterial qualities make it especially good at dealing with sweat, and simply cleaning your body with a linen rag or cloth is also remarkably effective. 

In summary

Throughout history people have taken steps to keep themselves clean and healthy. While fully immersive bathing in a hot tub was far more problematic than now, the average Mediæval person washed daily. From the time of the ancient Romans through the Middle Ages public bathhouses were available, and affordable, in many European towns and cities. Similarly, another myth concerning access to clean water is disproved by the engineering efforts undertaken to supply urban centres with water. Mediæval Europeans made full use of soap, detergents, deodorants and perfumes to ensure their bodies and their clothes smelt clean and fresh. In short, people in the past were much like us, so do not fall for the outdated trope that the Middle Ages was any dirtier and more malodorous than today. Bon appétit!

This article was very much inspired by the work of Jo Hedwig Teeuwisse, The Fake History Hunter. Her book ”Fake History: 101 things that never happened” is a fascinating myth-busting read that debunks 101 things that many people think happened but never did. Her mission to take down fake history and reclaim the truth is humorous, enjoyable and highly recommended reading.

References:

Gaius Julius Caesar, De Bello Gallico, Liber VI, 21, available online (accessed 12th May 2025). 

Gaius Plinius Secundus, Natualis Historia, Liber XXVIII, 47, trans Mayhoff, K.F.T., (1906), Leipzig: Teubner, available online (accessed 12th May 2025).

Publius Cornelius Tacitus, De origine et situ Germanorum, 21, trans. Bozzi, L., (2005), available online (accessed 12th May 2025).

Endnotes:

1. “Did people drink water in the Middle Ages?”, Medievalist.net, available online (accessed 17th April 2021).