Showing posts with label Medieval Society. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Medieval Society. Show all posts

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Indespensible "Hand-Maidens" of the Battlefield

Everyone vaguely familiar with the Middle Ages has heard of them, but very few people appreciate how essential "squires" were to medieval warfare. Squires were, in fact, quite simply indispensable because, in the military context, the term “knight” did not refer to a single individual but to a fighting unit composed of a knight and at least one destrier (warhorse), palfrey (riding horse), packhorse and squire. Wealthier knights could afford two or more of each (or all) of these supporting elements. Yet while most people understand that a knight was without a horse lost his utility on the battlefield, the importance of squires is often overlooked. Today I’d like to redress that.

A Knight and his Squire from a German Medieval Manuscript
The problem starts with the definition of the word “squire.” Long after squires had lost their utility and role on the battlefield, the term came to mean much the same thing as “gentleman.” It was used simply to refer to rural landowners who were neither knighted nor noble. With more time, it became nothing more than a title of respect, applied to magistrates and justices and the like.

Understanding the role of medieval squires is further complicated by the fact that it was not constant. Rather — like the definition and role of knights themselves — it changed over time and across geography. Thus, while the notion of a young man of noble birth serving in the household of another (usually related) nobleman is the most familiar face of the medieval squire today, in fact, in the 11th and 12th century squires were often waged servants of unspecified heritage.


In short, the term does not describe a clear and distinct class of medieval society, but rather a function or a job that might be performed by a duke’s son or a hired man of low birth. Furthermore, there was nothing automatic about a squire moving from his position/status to that of knighthood. A squire who lacked sufficient means to support himself even as a bachelor knight, or who had no prospect of being retained by a wealthier lord, might remain a squire all his life. Another example of this lack of promotion prospects were the squires of the Templars. They were quite simply hired men, who did not take Templar vows and were not subject to the Templar Rule. They could not become Templar knights unless or until two prerequisites were met: 1) they had been knighted, and 2) they had taken vows and been admitted to the Order.

Nor should we forget that squires performed a variety of functions not related to warfare. One of the most important was that of serving their lords at table, specifically carving the meat and pouring the wine. They also cared for and prepared their knight's clothes, helping him dress and undress. They were messengers and errand-boys, sent both to deliver information, letters or goods and to collect the same. They were often essential go-betweens between a knight and the lady of his affection, but they were just as often sent to buy things or pay tradesmen and more mundane tasks. They might be expected to entertain their employer with music, reading or just playing dice, checkers or chess. In all these functions, they did not seriously distinguish themselves from ordinary servants and their status would not have been elevated above that of other hired men had it not been for their essential services in warfare. 

It was because a knight could not perform his military role without a squire that squires had a higher status, but it was also because that role took them to the very brink of — if not into — battle that serving as a squire gradually evolved into an apprenticeship for knighthood. Thus, while it was not necessary that a squire be a youth of noble birth, it was necessary for a youth of noble birth to have been a squire if he wanted to have a chance of knighthood.

The militarily relevant services of a squire were first and foremost the care of the all-important warhorse, upon whose health, soundness, and temper a knight’s life depended. Squires were responsible for seeing that their lord’s precious (and very expensive!) warhorse was in optimal condition. This started with making sure he was properly fed and watered, but also meant ensuring he had clean straw in his stall and a blanket in cold weather. It further entailed ensuring that his feet were trimmed and properly shod, that any injuries were treated, that colic was prevented (to the extent possible), and, of course, that he was groomed and tacked up whenever needed.

The second military function of a squire was the care of his lord’s equipment, including his tack but also his arms and armor. A lazy or inept squire, who failed to ensure his knight’s sword belt, scabbard, hauberk, coif, chausses, helmet etc. were in the best possible condition, could cost a man his life. Care of medieval equipment was very labor-intensive and often required specialty knowledge. What kind of fat best prevented chainmail from rusting without stinking infernally? What was the best method of removing sweat from the lining of aventails or coifs without getting the chainmail wet (and so likely to rust)? etc. etc. etc.


Both of these duties (horse and equipment maintenance) were particularly important and difficult when a knight was on campaign, moving across long distances, sleeping in strange inns or castles, tents or in the open field. Furthermore, when campaigning, a squire also had to look after his lord’s belly and comfort, to ensure the knight himself was as fighting-fit as possible.

Finally, when battle itself was joined, the squire tacked up and brought forward the destrier, turned it over to the knight (helping him mount), and handed up a lance. Ideally, the squire then retreated to the “rear” (the baggage train) with his knight’s palfrey to await developments. His duties were not, however, over. He might be called upon to bring his knight another lance, or even another horse (if he had one), to bring him water during a lull in the fighting, or to drag him off the field if wounded and apply first aid, or, lastly, to recover the body if he were killed.


These duties were anything but risk-free. Quite aside from the risks involved in caring for high-strung, bad-tempered stallions, the responsibility for the horses often entailed foraging for fodder — a duty that frequently took squires into enemy territory. One of the instances during the Third Crusade in which Richard the Lionheart was nearly captured or killed started with the Saracens surprising “the squires” while they were foraging. (Itinerarium Peregrinorum et Gesta Regis Ricardi, Book 4, Chapter 30).

Furthermore, there were often circumstances that precluded a safe retreat to the rear. Ambushes generally placed everyone from the baggage-cart drivers to the commanders at equal risk. Likewise, campaigns deep into enemy territory made engagement without the opportunity to separate the squires from the other fighting men a greater probability. At the Battle of Hattin, the Frankish army was completely surrounded, and the squires had no choice but to fight in the very thick of the battle.

As a result, squires represented not only an essential component of a knight’s battlefield effectiveness but also made up a significant portion of medieval army strength.  They are, however, largely invisible to us today precisely because they were treated by contemporaries as a part of the “knight.” Thus, when describing the composition of a medieval army chroniclers recorded so-and-so many knights and infantry; sometimes (if being particularly precise) they might talk about bowmen vs. men-at-arms, or mention “pikemen” or other infantry, based on the weapons they carried. Only on very rare occasions do squires emerge from the dust of battle, as in the above example, where they are identified as the cause of an engagement involving the English King. 


Nevertheless, because the number of squires were at least equal to the number of knights engaged they represented a significant component of the fighting strength of medieval armies. They were not as heavily armored as knights, and did have the same caliber of horse, but the more experienced squires were undoubtedly skilled — and mounted — fighting men, who, when circumstances allowed, could make a significant contribution.

This is evidenced by a number of incidents in which squires were knighted because of their actions in battle. Of course, battlefield knightings were not confined to squires, at least not in the early centuries of knighthood, but there was a bias in favor of knighting squires before or after battle in the Late Middle Ages because by then squires were increasingly youth or young men of good family pre-destined for knighthood anyway.

In my novels set in the Middle Ages, I try to give due credit to the role of squires and several a significant characters:



 Buy now!                                       Buy now!                                         Buy now !




Friday, June 5, 2015

The Medieval Housewife -- A Review

The Medieval Housewife & Other Women in the Middle Ages
By Toni Mount


This is a gold-mine of anecdotal evidence demonstrating conclusively that medieval women were far more “empowered,” active and effective than conventional stereotypes allow. As Ms. Mount states in her introduction, “historians have tended to look at what women could not do.” Such a perspective is not only inherently negative (the glass is half empty rather than half full), it effectively denigrates women to objects of male power. As Mount so eloquently argues, women are — and have always been — independent personalities capable of coping with “tricky circumstances.” To focus exclusively on legal norms and male literature describing female “ideals,” denies women their own voice. This book is a refreshing change from polemical tirades against male domination that lets medieval women speak for themselves — through the books they wrote (yes, even middle class women in the Middle Ages were literate!), their wills, and their actions. 

The book is organized by theme, looking at women in their homes (housewives), in trade, in rural communities (peasants), in the church and in the upper class. Mount uses exclusively primary sources and archaeological evidence to build her case, and provides many photos from medieval sources and re-enactments. The book is short and easy to read, yet meticulously documented with a good bibliography of recommended further reading. 

As a historian, I already knew a great deal about the wealth, power, influence and substantial legal rights of royal and aristocratic women (you can’t read history without running into these women — Empress Mathilda, Eleanor of Aquitaine, Melisende of Jerusalem, Isabella of France, Joan of Kent, Marguerite d’Anjou etc.).  I also knew about the legal rights of widows even in the middle and peasant class, their ability to inherit, run their husband’s businesses and hold their husband’s vacant seats in guilds etc. What completely surprised me was learning that girls were also frequently apprenticed at young ages to learn trades, many of which they continued to practice after marriage. The ability of women to run their own business while still wives, not just as widows, was news to me as well. Mount’s evidence — and it is hard, solid evidence — completely transforms my view of women’s role in the lower tiers of medieval society and is so doing rounds out the picture I already had. It makes much more sense that women, regardless of class, had a comparable relationship with the men of their respective class. After all, women at the lower end of the social scale looked to the women of the elites not only for fashion but also as role models. A powerful queen would embolden the ladies of her court, who in turn inspired the women serving them etc. etc. 

My only disappointment with this book is that it remains a collection of anecdotes rather than a more systematic analysis of women in the Middle Ages. Rather than just dismissing previous historians for their “half-empty” approach, Mount could have tackled some of the more destructive theses about women in the Middle Ages head on. She almost does this in her chapter on women in the church in which she quotes some extraordinarily positive views of women recorded by leading churchmen that refute the oft-stated notion that “the Church” was hostile to women. It wasn’t that simple. But ultimately Mount shies away from taking a firm position and putting forward her own comprehensive thesis on women’s place in Medieval Society. A pity — unless that will be the subject of a later book. 

Women play anything but a passive role in my novel, "Knight of Jerusalem."




Book I: Knight of Jerusalem was released in September 2014.


A landless knight,

                     a leper king,
                                 and the struggle for Jerusalem.
'

Buy now in Paperback or Kindle format!



Read more about women in the crusader kingdoms at Balian d'Ibelin and the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

See the world through the eyes of a crusader's horse! Follow "The Destrier's Tale" on: http://schradershistoricalfiction.blogspot.com

Sunday, July 6, 2014

"Walking Corpses" - A Review

Walking Corpses: Leprosy in Byzantium and the Medieval West by Timothy S. Miller and John W. Nesbitt

This is an important scholarly work on the treatment of lepers in the Middle Ages. It covers everything from theories on the causes of leprosy to the administration of leper colonies. The book is well researched and the theses are well presented, argued and documented. 

Given the subject matter, this is not an “easy” read and is intended more for academics than for the general public. Yet it provides very valuable insights into medieval society that would benefit more casual students of the Middle Ages.  For one thing, Miller and Nesbitt effectively debunk the notion that leper colonies were places of punishment or that lepers were consistently and cruelly expelled from society out of moral revulsion.  On the contrary, they convincingly argue “ spiritual leaders [shaped] a new ethical imperative to accept lepers as suffering brothers in Christ, not to reject them as ritually impure or as objects of divine punishment.” In Byzantium, leprosy even came to be called “the Holy Disease” and a number of legends associated lepers with Christ, while service to lepers was viewed as particularly holy.

Nevertheless, the fear of contagion was — understandably — enormous and so civil and responsible ecclesiastical leaders sought to separate lepers from society at large.  Leper colonies were thus generally located outside city walls — but close enough for lepers to engage in trade and receive alms and visits from relatives, friends and patrons.

Because the organization of several important leper colonies is documented, we have insight into how the lepers managed their affairs, and Miller and Nesbitt highlight the fact that most leper colonies were run by the lepers themselves, who appear to have most often elected their own leaders! Furthermore, women lepers took part in the administration of leper colonies on equal footing with men and in some cases even obtained positions of authority. 

This later fact begs the question if only leprous women were deemed the equals of men, or if medieval society wasn’t considerably more respectful of women’s intellect and capabilities than is generally assumed? Or was, as Miller and Nesbitt ask at the very end of their work, the role played by women and the “democratic” nature of leper colonies a reason for increasing suspicion and hostility to lepers at the end of the Middle Ages?