Life, death and memory

in M. Carver and J. Klapste (eds), The

Archaeology of Medieval Europe Vol 2, 12th
to 16th centuries, Aarhus University Press,
494-515.

Andrea Augenti and Roberta Gilchrist

2011
Augenti, A. and Gilchrist, R. 2011, ‘Life, death and
memory’, in M. Carver and J. Klapste (eds), The
Archaeology of Medieval Europe Vol 2, 12th to 16th
centuries, Aarhus University Press, 494-515.

LIFE, DEATH AND MEMORY

Andrea Augenti and Roberta Gilchrist

The Medieval Lifecycle

It was common by the thirteenth century for people to conceptualize their lives in
comparison with cycles found in nature and episodes recounted in religious texts. The
microcosm of the human life was related to the larger macrocosm of Christian cosmology
and the natural world – the four seasons, the six ages of history, the seven planets, the
twelve months, and so on. This approach to understanding human experience from birth
to death is known as the ‘ages of man’, a scheme borrowed from classical models and
further developed in medieval medicine and theology. One of the most common schemes
divided the human lifecycle into six ages, following the classification of Isidore of Seville
(d. AD 636): infantia (up to age seven), pueritia (up to fourteen), adolescentia (up to 28),
juventus (up to 50), aetus senioris or gravitas (up to 70) and senectus (until death). These
theories spread to popular culture through the preaching of sermons and by visual
depictions of the ages of man in religious art and architecture – for example on the façade
of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. Different versions of the ages of man were also
pictured in the books of hours that were used by prosperous people for daily prayers, and
on tapestries and wall paintings in elite houses, favoured particularly in Italy and
Switzerland (Sears 1986).
The reality of the medieval life-span is reflected more accurately through a
combination of historical and archaeological evidence. Documentation of chronological
age was relatively rare, but life expectancy has been estimated from tax assessments,
hearth surveys, manor court rolls and monastic records. Such sources are biased towards
the recording of men, and a healthy working male in the town or countryside could
expect to survive into his early 50s. Women might live longer, but female mortality was
greater in young adult years due to the dangers of childbirth and exposure to infections
while caring for the sick. Records of monastic deaths confirm that monks and nuns could
achieve considerable longevity, living well into their 60s and 70s. Infant and child
mortality is especially difficult to judge from historical sources. Baptismal records began
only in the late fourteenth century in Italy, Germany and Spain, but not until the early
sixteenth century in France and England (Youngs 2006). A broad estimate of c. 30%
child mortality has been suggested from such sources, considerably lowering the average
medieval life expectancy (see for example Giovannini 2001, for Italy). The osteological
study of human remains from medieval cemeteries provides essential insights to the
health of ordinary medieval people. However, accurate estimates of life-expectancy based
on osteology are limited by a number of factors, particularly the under-representation of
infant skeletons in medieval cemeteries, and the methodological difficulties of accurately
ageing the skeletons of older individuals (for discussion of anthropological methods and
issues of bone taphonomy, see Meier with Graham-Campbell 2007). In many cases an
age range of 46+ is given to skeletons that may be aged up to 70 years or more.
Osteological evidence is therefore more useful in building up a general picture of trends
in health and mortality.

Climate and Catastrophes

Medieval Europe witnessed considerable climate change, with the ‘medieval warm
epoch’ AD 1150-1300, followed by a period of climate deterioration from AD 1300-
1500, and the onset of the Little Ice Age from the mid-sixteenth century (Lamb 1995).
The warm epoch contributed to a peak in population growth by the early thirteenth
century, followed by a trough in the later fourteenth century caused by episodes of mass
death, an ageing society, and a reduction in fertility caused by poor nutrition. The
combined population estimate for West and Central Europe in AD 1000 is 12 million,
with a peak in 1340 of 35.5 million, down to 26.5 million by 1500; the combined
population estimate for the Mediterranean is 17 million in AD 1000, 25 million in 1340,
and 21.8 million by 1500 (Meier with Graham-Campbell 2007, 424). Climate change
may have played a part in the rise of infections such as leprosy and plague, and the wet
conditions of the fourteenth century caused an epidemic of ergotism in central and
southern Europe. ‘St Anthony’s Fire’ is a parasitic fungus (Claviceps purpurea) that
affects rye grass and causes deadly toxins; when consumed in contaminated bread, the
fungus led to convulsions, hallucinations, gangrene, and finally death (Roberts and Cox
2003, 227). But the major impact of climate change was to cause widespread famine and
slow, miserable death by starvation. Wet summers led to harvest failures and famines in
1294-5, 1315-18 and 1437-40. The famines and animal murrains of the early fourteenth
century were particularly vicious, no doubt weakening immunity to successive waves of
the Black Death after the first outbreak in 1348-51. The plague seems to have attacked
particular groups of the population, with greater numbers of young children and male
adults falling victim to the pestilence, leaving isolated pockets of elderly survivors in all
regions of Europe. The higher mortality rate for children was a pattern that continued in
the regional outbreaks of the plague, for example in Germany in the 1380s, in Paris in
1418, and Florence in 1423-4 (Youngs 2006, 25-6, 32).
Natural disasters also played their part in the devastation of medieval Europe: ice
core evidence from both poles has revealed that a massive volcanic eruption occurred in
the tropics in 1257-8 (site unknown). The resulting ash blanketed Europe in thick fog and
caused cold, wet summers for three years, resulting in crop failures and high mortality
rates (Oppenheimer 2003). It is likely that some of the victims of this famine were
interred in mass burial pits that have been excavated at the hospital priory of St Mary
Spital in London. Up to 3000 people were buried in pits that contained between 25 and
42 individuals, buried in layers up to five deep (White 2007). The pits were located at the
extreme south-east of the hospital precinct, as far as possible from the main building
complex. Radiocarbon dates suggest a close correlation with the famine that developed in
the aftermath of the volcanic eruption. Excavations at the hospital of the Holy Ghost in
Lübeck, Germany, also revealed mass burials dated c. 1260 or later: a number of mass
graves each contained between 10-20 individuals. During the Black Death, the hospital at
Lübeck was the site of mass burials pits containing 696 individuals, buried five or six
layers deep (Prechel 1996).

Health and Lifestyle

Certain diseases were characteristic of medieval Europe, developing alongside the growth
of towns, trade, increased migration and changes in lifestyle. A high population density is
necessary for the transmission of infectious diseases such as leprosy (Hansen’s Disease),
which is passed between humans by coughing and sneezing. Leprosy was a problem
throughout Europe by the eleventh century, but it seems to have declined in some areas
by the later Middle Ages. Urban living brought an increase in the incidence of
tuberculosis, which shares the same bacteria as leprosy (Mycobacterium), so that an
individual suffering from TB may possess immunity to leprosy. Leprosy remained more
active in regions with few towns, such as Scandinavia, but had declined in England by
the fourteenth century. Osteological evidence has proven that syphilis was present in
medieval Europe (for example, at the Icelandic monastery of Skriðuklaustur,
Kristjánsdóttir 2008), challenging the long-held view that the disease originated in the
New World. Venereal syphilis is sexually transmitted; the associated dermatological
symptoms would have resembled the early stages of leprosy (Roberts and Manchester
1995). The disfigurement of leprosy was regarded as a punishment for sexual sin, and
sufferers were segregated in hospitals at the margins of medieval towns.
Medieval people also suffered disease and injury resulting from their housing
conditions and occupations (Roberts and Cox 2003). For example, the use of open
hearths to heat medieval houses resulted in poor air quality that caused a high level of
sinusitis, an inflammation of the sinuses of the face, which leads to new bone formation.
Other conditions were age related: for example, rickets has been identified in a small
number of infant remains from medieval England, perhaps resulting from the practice of
swaddling infants and consequently preventing the body’s production of Vitamin D
(stimulated by sunlight). Osteoporosis is normally a condition of old age, but a study of
medieval skeletons from Trondheim (Norway) and Wharram Percy (England) suggested
that young women (aged 25-35) showed a loss of bone mineral density that may have
been caused by the stresses of pregnancy and lactation, in association with poor nutrition
(Turner-Walker et al 2001). Poor sanitation meant that most people would have suffered
from internal parasites, leading to iron deficiency anemia, recognized in skeletal remains
through the presence of cribra orbitalia and porotic hyperostosis (pitting of the bones of
the skull). Pulmonary infections, typhus, measles and ‘sweating sickness’ were also
endemic, but leave no permanent signature on the skeleton. Study of fracture trauma from
sites in medieval England suggests that rural agricultural workers were at greater risk of
occupational injury than town dwellers. Within towns, however, there was a greater
danger of injury from violence, and men were particularly vulnerable to injury by blade
or blunt force. Medieval warfare required the intensive training of men to wield swords
and cross-bows, resulting in occupational stress to soldiers’ spines. Mass graves from
battle sites such as Visby (Gotland, Sweden, 1361) and Towton (Yorkshire, England,
1461) give insight to the gruesome nature of medieval battle and the haphazard disposal
of the war dead, still wearing their armour or clothing (Fiorato et al 2000).

Care for the Sick

Medieval Medicine and Healing Magic

Only the very wealthy had access to medical physicians who had been trained in
universities, but medieval cities offered a wider range of practitioners including barber-
surgeons, apothecaries and midwives. Medical theories of the body drew on classical
sources, particularly Hippocrates (c. 460 BC) and Galen (d. c. AD 216), and were based
on the principle that the microcosm of the human body was connected to the four natural
elements of fire, water, earth and air. The theory of the humours proposed that each
natural element produced substances in the body, the balance of which influenced health
and disposition. Fire, which was hot and dry, was believed to produce yellow bile in the
body, and led to a choleric complexion. Water, which was cold and wet, was understood to
produce phlegm, and the phlegmatic disposition. Earth, thought of as cold and dry, was
represented by black bile in the body, and associated with the melancholy complexion. Air,
hot and wet, made blood, and the sanguine temperament. A balance of humours was
required for good health in each individual, but it was believed that age and sex influenced
the overall humoral makeup. Women were regarded as watery and changeable, with a cold,
wet humoral balance which contrasted with the hot, dry male. Infants and young children
were considered to hold an excess of water and heat; in contrast, the elderly were perceived
to be cold, dry and brittle. Medieval physicians made diagnoses based on the temperament
and complexion of the patient, but they also examined their urine to consider its colour,
clarity and consistency. The glass flasks used for this process (called jordans or urinals) are
relatively common archaeological finds from medieval monasteries and hospitals (e.g. St
Mary Spital, London: Thomas et al 1997).
Most medieval people sought spiritual succor for their ailments through prayer or
pilgrimage to religious shrines, and they drew on traditional herbal medicines and
popular magic to bring relief from their physical symptoms. The use of healing magic
was associated particularly with the care of women in childbirth, when a combination of
prayers, herbal remedies, verbal charms and amulets were employed by the midwife.
Prayers and charms were written on parchment and wrapped around women in labour or
placed directly on their bodies. A vivid remnant of this practice is a ‘birthing kit’ which
survives from the French town of Aurillac in the Auvergne, consisting of a group of
handwritten and printed amulets, and an array of objects associated with St Margaret.
Margaret was regarded as the patron saint of women in childbirth, due to the apocryphal
story that she had escaped from the belly of a dragon. The earliest in the group is a
complex folding amulet dating to the thirteenth century, made up of 30 medallions laced
together by parchment strips. The items were kept together in a linen sack to be used by
women of a family or community, and handed down over many generations (Skemer
2006, 242). It has been suggested that traces of healing magic can be found occasionally
in later medieval burials, for example the folded lead and parchment parcels that were
placed near the pelvises of two adult females interred at St Mary Spital, London, and St
James’ priory, Bristol, in England (Gilchrist 2008).

Medieval Hospitals: Christian Bodies and Souls

In contrast with modern hospitals, the medieval hospital seldom dispensed urgent medical
treatment, and relatively few were attended by trained physicians. Instead, the medieval
hospital provided residential accommodation, a healthy diet and spiritual sustenance for
the needy groups in society – the sick, elderly, poor and leprous. Most hospitals were
organized according to monastic principles and were staffed by canons and lay-sisters.
The hospital was essentially a religious institution that provided welfare as Christian
charity. Charitable giving was a kind of spiritual intercession which was believed to
hasten the passage of the soul through the torments of Purgatory. The founders and
patrons of hospitals gave alms to the poor inmates to cleanse their own sins, and thus
reduce the period that they might spend in Purgatory. Hospitals were also linked to
Christian memorial practices: they were established by wealthy families as private
chantries, with the expectation that the patient-inmates would pray for the souls of the
patrons in perpetuity.
Medieval hospitals have been classified into four major categories: infirmaries for
the sick poor, leper hospitals, hospices for pilgrims and wayfarers, and almshouses,
which sheltered the worthy Christian poor (Gilchrist 1995). In reality, however, many
hospitals performed a combination of these functions, or they changed their roles over
time. For example, with the decline of leprosy in the later Middle Ages, many leprosaria
were converted to almshouses, plague hospitals or asylums. Because leper hospitals were
located outside towns and usually provided accommodation in separate cells, they were
ideally suited to reuse as isolation hospitals. Infirmaries were established in towns and
ports, or along major routes of travel, and were set up as male or mixed communities,
with both staff and inmates segregated by sex. The basic component was the infirmary
hall, which was generally divided into three aisles by arcades, with a chapel attached to
the east. Smaller hospitals in Britain resembled parish churches, with the layout of the
hall and chapel similar to that of the nave and chancel (e.g. St Mary’s Hospital,
Chichester). French hospitals were constructed on a much grander scale, such as the
extant Notre-Dame des Fontenilles, Tonnerre (Yonne), established by Marguerite of
Burgundy in 1293 (figure 2). The hospital shared its site with Marguerite’s private
chateau, which was closely connected with the massive infirmary hall (c. 100m long) that
provided 40 beds for men and women, with timber screens partitioning the space into
alcoves for the patients. The hall is covered with an ornate timber barrel roof and the
chapel at its eastern end is vaulted in stone and was provided with lofty, traceried
windows. The hospital at Tonnerre was designed within a seigneurial landscape: it was
built contiguously with the city defences and the precinct was walled, crenellated and
moated by chanelling the river. Natural streams were diverted to flush the waste of the
latrines and domestic buildings (Courteney 2007; Lillich 1998).
The largest hospitals were organized around a number of cloisters and chapels,
such as St John in Bruges (modern Belgium), where parallel halls were added to the south
of the original twelfth-century infirmary until further expansion was prevented by the
canal; to the north, four further courts were added. The excavation of hospitals provides
unique insight to how they evolved over time. At St Mary Spital, London, a simple
infirmary hall with chapel (c. 1197) was replaced by a T-shaped complex around 1235.
Claustral ranges were developed to the north of the church (c. 1280-1320) and a second
infirmary was built against the west side of the first infirmary (figure 3). The T-shape
was remodeled to provide a pair of transepts for the church, and later the infirmary was
extended westwards with a new, two-storey structure added (c. 1320-50) (Thomas et al
1997). Italian hospitals were at the forefront of medical innovation and developed the
cruciform hospital plan: at Santa Maria Nuova, Florence (c. 1334), four separate sick
wards intersected in the shape of a cross, so that nursing staff could oversee all areas
simultaneously from the centre.
In common with all religious institutions, burial of the dead was a primary
function of the medieval hospital, with provision made for the interment of patients, staff
and wealthy benefactors. Excavations at St Mary Spital uncovered the remains of 10,500
individuals, including 3000 buried in the mass famine graves discussed above, and over
7000 individual interments in the cemetery. Approximately one third of the skeletons
showed some form of skeletal pathology resulting from disease or injury, in contrast with
the figure of around 10% which would be typical of a parish cemetery. Conditions
represented in the skeletal remains of patients at St Mary Spital included cleft palate,
joint dislocations, joint disease and infections such as TB and syphilis. Evidence for
medical treatment is revealed in a number of bones with set and healed fractures, two
cases of cranial trepanation and one of below-the-knee amputation, in addition to three
skeletons interred with copper-alloy plates that were used to protect and help heal joint
injuries (White 2007).

Death

The archaeological study of later medieval death began in the 1950s in France, Spain,
Britain and Scandinavia, while in Italy, a thematic focus on funerary archaeology has
been more directed toward Late Antiquity and the early Middle Ages. Throughout
Europe, however, recent decades have seen the accumulation of significant bodies of
data, permitting the identification of general trends and local variations in burial practice.

Cemetery Location

Cemeteries were closely associated with towns from the early Middle Ages right up to
the modern period. The Roman prohibition on intramural burial broke down in the fifth
century, when interments took place in cemeteries founded within town walls. From the
eighth century, it became common practice to place burials in and around ecclesiastical
buildings, a pattern that persisted throughout the whole medieval period. The Muslim
conquest of Spain resulted in a distinct regional trait: cemeteries were mostly located
outside city walls from the ninth century (although there were many exceptions: see Box
2). Following the ‘Reconquista’ in the thirteenth century, intramural burial was
established, for example at Valencia (Gonzales Villaescusa and Lerma Alegria 1996).
Urban authorities insisted on the location of Jewish cemeteries outside town walls; for
example, the ten Jewish cemeteries in England were established outside major towns,
located near a principal gate.
In the countryside, burials dating from the fifth to eighth centuries were located
either around churches or in isolated row cemeteries. Parish churches gradually
developed burial rights, with the pace varying according to region – by the ninth century
in Italy (Settia 1982), and from the tenth to twelfth centuries in France and England
(Zadora-Rio 2003). Feudal lords were buried in private churches associated with manors
or castles, which were subsequently developed as the foci for communal burial. A fine
example is the chapel located within the Tuscan castle of Monte di Croce (FI), a small
building (16.8 x 6.5m) excavated by Riccardo Francovich. Three small cemeteries were
discovered around the chapel, with two phases of burial activity (from the tenth to twelfth
centuries) including substantial stone cist graves. The earliest burials were interpreted as
those of the seigneurial family who owned the castle. In the mid twelfth century the
chapel was enlarged and developed as a religious place for the entire local community
(Tronti 2008) (figure 4). In both rural and urban areas, monasteries became the nodal
points of the later medieval funerary landscape: the laity paid for interment within the
monastic cemetery in return for the prayers that the monks offered up for their souls.

The Topography of Cemeteries

From the ninth or tenth century onwards, Christian burial took place exclusively within
sanctified ground. The cemetery was consecrated by a liturgical rite of purification that
involved the singing of psalms, sprinkling the ground with holy water and marking the
boundaries through prayers and the erection of physical markers (Lauwers 2005;
Rosenwein 1999, 178-9). The sacred space of the cemetery was bounded by masonry
walls, hedges or timber fences. One of the most monumental examples is the Camposanto
of Pisa, a vast rectangular cloister built to host burials in 1278, close to the cathedral. A
cross was often located in the centre of the cemetery, the cross of the Hosanna (or the
Calvary cross). The cross was built in wood or masonry; burial in close proximity to the
cross was considered efficacious and was very much sought after (Alexandre-Bidon and
Treffort 1993, 265). Excavations have revealed the clustering of graves around
churchyard crosses, for example at the Cistercian monastery of St Mary Graces, London
(1350-1538) (Gilchrist and Sloane 2005, 38-40).
Burial within churches was limited initially to founders and senior religious
personnel, but internal burial became increasingly common with the desire to be buried
ad sanctos, close to the altar. The altar represented the most holy space of the church and
was regarded as the position in which the deceased would gain greatest benefit from
intercessory prayers and masses. The prohibition on internal burial resulted in the
location of high status interments in satellite areas of the church such as the narthex or
porch, and in the cloisters and chapter houses of monasteries (Sapin 1996; Dierkens
2002). The location of such burials was sometimes determined by the age, sex and/or
social status of the deceased. It was relatively common for women to be buried within
male monasteries, although their graves were usually confined to the exterior cemetery or
to specific locations in the church (e.g. the south transept at the English Cistercian abbeys
of Hulton, Staffordshire, and Bordesley, Worcestershire) (Gilchrist and Sloane 2005, 65-
8). In Scandinavia, zoning of cemeteries seems to have been more sharply delineated
according to sex, with males frequently buried to the south of the church and females to
the north (Kieffer-Olsen 1993). Particular spaces were employed for the burial of
children: in the cemetery of Dassargues (Languedoc) during the twelfth century, the
graves of perinatal infants clustered around the apse of the Romanesque church, while
older infants aged between six months and one year were buried outside the west façade
of the church (Garnotel and Raynaud 1996).
It is sometimes possible to distinguish zones reserved for burial of the religious
community from those developed for the laity. The chapter house was often designated
for the interment of abbots, for example at the abbey of Landevennec (Finistére) between
the twelfth and the fourteenth centuries. In the same phase, a group of graves discovered
in the courtyard at the west front of the church, has been interpreted as a lay cemetery
(Bardel and Perennec 2004) (figure 5). The space to the west of the church was
gradually opened up for burial of the laity, for example at the abbey of Novalesa
(Piedmont). Here, excavations revealed an increase in the number of earthen graves in the
zone of the galilee, between the thirteenth and the fourteenth century, perhaps
representing the extension of the privilege of burial within the monastic complex to a
wider number of people (Lambert and Grilletto 1989).

The Burial

Excavations have shown considerable variety in the range of medieval grave

construction, but the most common type is the simple earthen grave, present throughout
Europe and adopted by people of all social classes. Even members of the upper echelons
sometimes selected this form of grave as a spiritual gesture of humility. Graves dug into
soil or cut into rock varied in the shape of their outline: anthropomorphic (with or without
head niches), rectangular, trapezoidal and oval. In south-west France, the selection of
shapes has been proven to follow a chronological sequence (Colardelle et al 1996; for
Catalunya, see Bolos i Masclans and Pages i Paretas 1982). Medieval graves were
sometimes lined in a variety of materials, such as lime, clay or gravel, or constructed as
stone or brick cists. In some regions the funerary caveau (vault) developed from the
thirteenth century onwards: underground vaults constructed in masonry and covered with
either horizontal slabs or barrel-vaults. The interior space was not usually decorated, with
the exception of some painted examples found in Belgium. Funerary caveaux were
usually employed as family mausolea, although one example at the cathedral of Aix-en-
Provence was used by local priests (Esquieu 1996).
The vast majority of burials were oriented west-east, with the head laid to the west
of the grave, and the feet to the east, ready to face Jerusalem at the moment of the
resurrection. The corpse was usually placed in the grave in a supine position, with arms
fully extended or crossed on the chest or over the pelvis, but many other positions are
attested. It has been argued that the positioning of the body in the grave followed a
chronological pattern in Scandinavia, Germany and Switzerland, with arms fully
extended against the sides of the body up to c. 1250, then the hands were positioned over
the pelvis or stomach up to 1450, and after 1450, hands were placed over the chest
(Kieffer-Olsen 1993). It is possible that this is an important regional variation, but the
dating framework behind this hypothesis needs careful re-evaluation. Where absolute
dating and stratigraphic analysis of cemeteries have been undertaken in Britain, arm
position seems to follow regional preference rather than chronological sequence
(Gilchrist and Sloane 2005). The cadaver was usually wrapped in a linen shroud, an
element which seldom survives, but is sometimes represented by the pins that were used
to fasten it. Some corpses were placed in containers, with the most common being timber
coffins, with stone and lead coffins reserved for burials of the highest status (figure 6). In
some regions the preference of container and grave construction followed a distinct
chronological sequence, but there is considerable variation across Europe, and even
within single cemeteries.
 Ecclesiastical and royal corpses were often dressed ceremonially for the grave and
displayed to the public prior to burial. Bishops and archbishops were adorned in their
clothing of consecration and accompanied by their symbols of religious office: the
crozier, mitre, chalice and paten, and clerical vestments. For example, Archbishop
Godfrey de Ludham was buried at York Minster in 1265, laid out with his mitre, stole,
pallium and leather shoes. The burials of members of royal families were similarly
adorned in rich textiles of silk and gold and accompanied by insignia of royal power,
such as the crown deposited by the emperor Frederic II in the grave of his wife,
Constance d’Auteville, in 1220 (D’Onofrio 1994, 290; 426; 274-275). Weapons were
usually prohibited from burial in consecrated ground, but exceptions were permitted for
the burials of kings and nobles: the grave of the gonfalonier Giovanni dei Medici (1352)
in Florence Cathedral contained a sword and a couple of spurs (Buerger 1975, 208-209).
Although it was less common for members of the laity to be buried in clothing, this
practice has been confirmed by the presence of dress-accessories in graves (such as belt
or hose buckles) and where textiles have been preserved. An exceptional example is the
parish cemetery of Herjolfsnes in Greenland, which was excavated in 1921; reassessment
and radiocarbon dating has confirmed a fourteenth- to fifteenth-century date (Ostergard
2004). The corpses were preserved in the permafrost and found wrapped in layers of
clothing, including tunics, hoods, hats and hose, interpreted as the use of the personal
clothing of the deceased as a shroud.
The most commonly occurring grave goods in later medieval cemeteries are the
chalices (and sometimes patens) that were buried with priests, for instance those
excavated in Val d’Aosta (Crosetto 1998). The chalice is the sacred vessel used to
contain wine during the ritual of the mass, representing the blood of Christ; the paten is
the small shallow plate or disc of precious metal on which the eucharist is placed.
Archbishops and bishops were buried with chalices made of precious metal, while priests
were buried with chalices made of pewter, or even copies moulded in pottery or beeswax
(as excavated at Hulton, Staffordshire). Religious grave goods also included pottery and
glass vessels used as containers for holy water and incense. According to the French
liturgist Gulielmus Durandus of Mende (who wrote in the 1290s), these consecrated
substances were employed to protect the corpse against demons and to prevent the stench
given off by the rotting cadaver (Prigent 1996). In northern France and medieval
Denmark, ‘fumitory pots’ were placed in graves from the thirteenth century. For
example, recent excavations at the Sainte-Marie-Madeleine priory in Mantes-la-Jolie
(west of Paris) uncovered fumitory pots placed on top of the coffin lids of burials dating
to the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The pots were evidently reused from domestic
contexts, but were filled with charcoal and possibly used as fumitory vessels placed
around the coffin and bier during the funeral Mass. The fumitory pots seem to have been
linked with a rite of cleansing and demarcation of the grave site (Madsen 1983).
The tradition of placing grave goods with the dead declined from the seventh to
ninth centuries, although they continued to be deposited with higher ranking clergy
throughout the period. Increasing numbers of grave goods were buried with the laity from
the twelfth to thirteenth century, and a number of distinctive regional traditions can be
identified. Most of the objects placed in graves are connected with religious symbolism.
For example at the monastery of Skriðuklaustur in eastern Iceland, founded in 1493,
approximately 120 burials have been identified including those of women, young
children and infants (Kristjánsdóttir 2008). Seven graves have been excavated from
inside the church, three of which were adults buried in coffins with books lying open on
their chests, perhaps denoting the graves of the founding family (figure 7). The books
were written in Latin on parchments of goatskin, with covers made of imported wood and
skin, and illustrated with Byzantine decoration (Jónsson 2008). In Scandinavia and
England, it was relatively common to place timber rods or staves with the corpse, either
in the coffin or more often in the grave cut, as part of a graveside rite that was used in the
interment of men, women and children. The rods were made from coppiced hazel, ash or
willow, and while single rods were most common, some burials were placed with several
rods (figure 8). The rods have sometimes been interpreted as symbolic of pilgrimage, but
recently they have been discussed in terms of measuring rods that were involved in the
funeral preparation (Jonsson 2007), or as objects that were used in a journeying charm
performed for the dead before they embarked on their journey through Purgatory
(Gilchrist 2008).
Approximately sixty papal bullae have been recovered from medieval graves in
Europe, half of which derive from English burials of the fourteenth or fifteenth centuries
(Gilchrist and Sloane 2005, 94-6). The bullae from contemporary French burials have
been interpreted as being associated with priests, as ‘passports to redemption’ that served
as proof that a deceased cleric had been absolved of his sins (Dabrowska 2005, 334-6),
but the English examples are found with burials of the laity, including women. The bulla
may have been attached to a papal indulgence that pertained to the deceased individual,
or the lead seal itself may have served as an amulet. Medieval pilgrims sometimes took
their souvenirs to the grave, and scallop shells symbolic of the pilgrimage to the shrine of
St James de Compostella (Spain) are found in small numbers throughout Europe. They
have been found more commonly in mortuary contexts in Scandinavia and in Germany
(Andersson 1989, 141-54; Haasis-Berner 1999, 274). More personal grave goods
persisted especially in the Baltic, a region that was converted relatively late to
Christianity in the thirteenth century. For example, Estonian burials continued to include
some of the grave goods that had been used in late Iron Age rites: tools, jewellery, keys,
coins and items of personal hygiene. Feasts and food offerings were made at the grave-
site, including regular family meals held at the grave long after the interment (Valk
2001). In Scotland, Wales and Ireland, it remained fairly common to include white
pebbles with later medieval burials, a widespread prehistoric burial rite in these regions.
White pebbles were recorded in approximately two-thirds of the 1,275 inhumations
excavated at the parish cemetery of Ballyshannon (co Donegal), deliberately placed in the
hands of the corpses (Ó Donnchadha 2007).
Distinctive Jewish mortuary practices were uncovered by excavations at Jewbury
in York (England) (Lilley et al 1994). Three distinctive elements at medieval Jewish
cemeteries contrast with Christian rites: the prevalence of coffin use, the attention to
segregation of burial by age, and the lack of intercutting of burials. It was common to
mark Jewish graves with stone markers, but at York there were only traces of a few
wooden grave markers. At York, 93% of inhumations were placed in coffins made from
Scots pine with iron fittings; the exceptionally high rate of coffin use reflects the deeply
held conviction among Jews that corpses are polluted and unclean. For this reason Jewish
cemeteries were required to provide a ritual source of water, for both the hand washing of
visitors to the cemetery, and for the washing of the corpse before burial. Infant burials at
York were clustered in the north-east of the cemetery area. Of 476 inhumations excavated
at Jewbury, there were only eight examples of earlier burials being cut by later graves.
The alignment of the graves was not the customary west-east, but rather south-south/east
and north-north/east; this discrepancy in alignment was also seen in the Jewish cemetery
at Worms, Germany. In both cases, it seems that burials were positioned so that the
resurrected corpse would rise to face an entrance in the cemetery, so that alignment was
determined by local topography. In terms of burial practice, Jewish burials also utilized
shrouds and shroud fasteners, including single antler toggles found positioned above the
heads of two burials at Jewbury.

Memory

The widespread adoption of the doctrine of Purgatory increased the emphasis placed on
the commemoration of the dead after the twelfth century. This was accomplished through
prayer, written epitaphs and material practices. Collective memory was sustained by
reciting the names of the deceased, performed daily in monastic churches in the Office of
the Dead, and annually in parish churches in prayers associated with All Souls. The
wealthy endowed anniversary and chantry masses for themselves and their families, and
it was common to perform commemorative rituals at the graveside at particular intervals,
usually one week, one month and one year following the funeral. Few graves were
marked by substantial monuments, but ephemeral constructions such as earthen mounds
or timber crosses were employed. In the vast majority of cases no archaeological trace of
these crosses has survived, but occasionally it has been possible to identify their
postholes, as in one of the cemeteries at the site of Nonantola in Italy (Bertoldi and
Librenti 2007). Ossuaries, or charnel houses, also served to memorialize the collective
dead: these ranged from simple pits to purpose-built structures located within cemeteries.
They housed the disarticulated human remains that were disturbed by the cutting of new
graves. Purpose-built ossuaries had arches or openings through which thousands of skulls
were clearly visible, as depicted in German illuminations of the fifteenth century
(Alexandre-Bidon and Treffort 1993).
Monuments for the individual dead developed from simple slabs covering the
grave (inscribed with crosses and occasionally with inscriptions or effigies) to effigial
tombs and brasses which depicted the deceased (figure 10). The earliest example of this
trend is the grave of Abbot Isarn of St Victor in Marseille (dated 1048: Favreau 1997, 71-
4). Sepulchral monuments were at first employed only in the commemoration of the elite;
for example, the Norman dukes developed dynastic burial places such as the abbey
church of Fécamp (Normandy), and the abbey of the Holy Trinity in Venosa (Basilicata).
Graves were given architectural elaboration through the addition of an arch or tympanum,
such as the monument of Alberada (d. 1111) at Venosa, the wife of Robert the Guiscard,
Duke of Apulia. Representational and three-dimensional monuments developed in the
twelfth and thirteenth centuries, particularly through the medium of ecclesiastical tombs.
Wall-monuments for popes and cardinals portrayed them sleeping in their beds,
surmounted by canopies (figure 11). Interesting examples survive in Rome and Viterbo,
carved personally by masters such as Arnolfo di Cambio. Monumental forms particular to
Italy include the ‘arks’ placed in urban squares, for example that of the Scaligeri family
in Verona and the ark of Cangrande della Scala (1329), with an equestrian sculpture
mounted on a pyramid. Similar monuments were established between the thirteenth and
fourteenth centuries for university professors in towns like Bologna and Padua (among
the first European universities). Here we see the extension of commemoration to the
bourgeoisie, with monumentalization of the ‘aristocracy of knowledge’ (Petrucci 1995).
Effigial monuments were adopted throughout Western Europe in the thirteenth
century and were linked to the promotion of heraldic display. Effigies of knights depicted
the deceased in their military apparel and with their swords. Female effigies appeared in
the second half of the thirteenth century, and their conventions were influenced by ideals
of feminine beauty and depictions of the Virgin Mary. Both male and female were shown
as young adults, whatever age they were when they died. This relates to the medieval
idea that everyone was resurrected at the ideal age of 33, the age that Christ died on the
cross. Effigies were executed in stone, timber, or alabaster, which became popular from
the fourteenth century. Funerary commemoration became accessible to a much wider
range of society with the development of monumental brasses in the thirteenth century.
These two-dimensional representations were engraved on sheets of metal and mass
produced in large workshops, notably in Flanders. Towards the end of the fourteenth
century, the cadaver or ‘transi’ tomb developed, depicting the physical ravages of death
in a realistic and gruesome manner. The shrouded body was represented in the process of
decay, showing the shrivelled body, sometimes with frogs, snails, snakes and other agents
of the ground. In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries this type of funerary monument was
known across Europe, although there were local variations. These tombs are usually
interpreted as memento mori, a reminder of mortality for the living (Binski 1996).
Despite the Islamic prohibition on the commemoration of the dead, memory was
perpetuated through the construction of decorated mausolea and the use of inscriptions.
Muslim epitaphs found in Sicily (61 in total) represent the upper strata of local society,
notably the producers of precious garments, mainly resident in towns and trading with the
Maghreb area (Grassi 2004).
Jewish commemorative practices are reflected in a large collection of 1508
gravestones from Wurzburg (Germany), which were reused as building material after the
Jewish cemetery was sold in the fifteenth century. The gravestones span the period from
1129 to 1346. In 1349, Wurzburg’s Jewish community was annihilated after the
townspeople accused them of causing the Black Death. The Hebrew inscriptions reveal
the presence of a highly esteemed centre for Talmudic learning, with frequent use of the
titles rabbi, haver (accomplished layman of letters) and bachur (young man who has
completed the yeshivah education). The stones indicate the migration of Jews into
Wurzburg from Hammelburg, Mühlhausen, Montpellier, Strasbourg, and more generally
from ‘France’ and ‘England’, reflecting the reach of the medieval Jewish diaspora. The
inscriptions also attest to the widespread violence against the Jews, commemorating
martyrs who had been slain by Christians (Müller 2005).

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