Month: December 2017

The Later Middle Ages: A Missing Chapter in the History of Migration to England

Dr Bart Lambert, University of York

I must confess I had an ulterior motive in inviting our December speaker, Dr Bart Lambert of the University of York, to give a talk about late Medieval migration. Migration has been one of the topics of Manchester Museum’s thematic collecting project for the last 18 months, which culminated for me  in a visit to the Greek island of Lesvos to collect a refugee’s life jacket just over a year ago.  As part of the project I’ve looked at Roman inscriptions from Mancunium or Manchester in the museum collection but the medieval period  posed more of a challenge. Everyone’s familiar with the Anglo-Saxons, Vikings and Normans but Dr Lambert’s talk opened up a whole new chapter about the movement of people during the later Middle Ages.

Statue of the Black Prince in Leeds

We are certainly no stranger to late Medieval migration in Leeds. One of the city’s prominent  landmarks in City Square opposite the railway station is a statue of the Black Prince created by sculptor Thomas Brock (1847-1922). It was set up thanks to the generosity and civic-mindedness of Colonel Thomas William Harding  who sought a suitably distinguished subject to be the focus of the Italianate piazza he had created. That there was no direct link with the history of city  mattered little and the bronze scroll around the base of the statue reads like a roll-call of the Ladybird book of well-to-do, respectable and famous people during the reign of Edward III: Sir John Chandos, Sir Walter Nanny, William of Wykeham, John Wycliff, Chaucer, Froissart, van Arteveldt and du Guesclin. Not to mention bronze panels depicting the battles of Crecy and Sluys and a plaque honouring the Black Prince himself, ‘Edward, Prince of Wales, surnamed the Black Prince. The Hero of Crecy and Poitiers. The Flower of England’s chivalry…’

Van Arteveldt’s name in the scroll around the plinth of the statue

Of these, van Arteveldt is credited with encouraging Edward III to bring Flemish weavers and dyers to England, which Colonel Harding may have believed helped to lay the foundations of the West Yorkshire textile industry. As our speaker explained it is more likely that van Arteveldt was finding a home overseas where political exiles from Flanders wouldn’t pose a threat.

If civic statuary inspired by Victorian medievalism is a rather dubious source of information about late Medieval migration, Dr Lambert presented data of far more reliable kind: the records of the country’s alien population that were created for taxation purposes during the reign of Henry VI in order to help fund the war in France. The tax operated between 1440 and 1447. Juries were appointed in each community to identify who was an alien. Returns from the alien subsidy  highlights the presence of French people, many of whom must have been refugees fleeing parts of France which had been occupied by the English but were being recaptured by the French monarchy. There were also   labourers and servants from the Low Countries who realised that they could earn more money on the other side of the Channel. Similarly, there were Scottish People on the borders and Irish people in the West Country who at that time would have been classified as aliens because they came from a different kingdom of the British Isles.

If any of this echoes recent events  you might not be surprised to learn that the immigrants brought with them new skills in making fine and fancy goods including clothing, footwear and jewellery that native crafts people found difficult to compete with. This caused tensions that resulted in appalling acts of violence against the newcomers,  and even threats to mutilate immigrant workers so that they could not compete with English (in practice London) crafts people.

The tax came to an end in 1487 because it had ceased to gather significant sums of money. Bart suggested that by this time people on local juries had formed relationships with the immigrants and had less reason to report them to the authorities for taxation. So what begins as a rather unpleasant story about penalising vulnerable people in medieval society develops into something more heartening, a story of solidarity not marginalisation of the other.

Someone once said there’s nothing new  under the sun except perhaps the cigarette. In this lecture the echoes of Brexit were all too loud. Many thanks to Bart for making us think as much about the present as about the past.

‘Skeletons: Our Buried Bones’ – Medieval human remains on display

I am very grateful to Kat Baxter, Curator of Archaeology at Leeds Museums and Galleries, for writing this guest blog for the Medieval Section. There is still time to go and see this exhibition, which includes a number of fascinating Medieval skeletons, before it closes on 7th January. So if you are wanting an excuse to get away from the seasonal over-indulgence and sitting in front of the television go and see this great exhibition at the Leeds City Museum.

One of the casualties from the battle of Towton

There isn’t much time before we say goodbye to the wonderful ‘Skeletons: Our Buried Bones’ exhibition in Leeds City Museum.  The exhibition, in partnership with the Museum of London and Wellcome Collection, brings together the skeletons of 12 individuals from across Yorkshire and London to unearth their stories and share clues to life and death in the past.

Here are some of the stories written on the bones of the Medieval individuals on display.  Visit the exhibition before 7th January 2018 to find out more about these and other skeletons of those who have gone before us.

The Green Goddess

1350 – 1400, St Mary Graces, Royal Mint, East Smithfield, London. On loan from the Museum of London

This skeleton of a woman age 26-35 shows no evidence of disease or trauma.  It does, however, show how activities after burial can affect a person’s skeleton.  She was buried under the Royal Mint, where coins were manufactured.  The process produced copper waste which ended up in the earth and subsequently stained her skull and neck green.

© Leeds Museums and Galleries

The Anchoress

1432-1488, All-Saint’s, Fishergate, York. On loan from The University of Sheffield

 This skeleton of a middle-aged lady who lived in York nearly 600 years ago was uncovered in the apse of the Medieval stone church at All-Saint’s.

The lady was probably of high status, considering the prestige placed on being buried in a church at this time.  But she was found in an unusual position, tightly crouched with her knees raised up towards her chest.

The Anchoress was buried in a crouched position.
Photograph courtesy of On-Site Archaeology

Historical records tell us that there was an anchoress called Lady Isabel German who lived in the All Saint’s churchyard from 1428 until 1448.  An anchoress is a female anchorite, or someone who decides to live their life in isolation to concentrate fully on their spiritual growth.  The apse of the church was a small room and was likely to have been where she lived out her days with the door sealed shut.

Her bones show that in life she suffered from severe osteoporosis, not surprising if she was confined to such a small space.  More surprisingly, the skeleton also shows that she suffered from venereal syphilis, a sexually transmitted infection.

Is it possible that Lady Isabel German became an anchoress to repent her sins because she contracted this disease as a young woman?  Was she forced into retreating from society or was it a path she chose for herself?  Although we can speculate, we do not know the answers and much of her life remains a mystery.

 The Plague Victim

1348-1350, East Smithfield Black Death cemetery, London. On loan from the Museum of London

The skeleton of this man shows that he lived with a serious injury.  He was found with an iron arrowhead lodged in his spine, which had just avoided damaging his spinal cord.  The bone around it had healed, indicating that he had recovered from the attack.  Unfortunately for him he was later killed by the plague which arrived in London in 1348.  His bones do not tell us this however – the plague killed too quickly to leave any marks on the skeleton.  We know because he was excavated from one of London’s ‘catastrophe’ burial sites, specifically created to accommodate plague victims.

The Soldier

1461, Towton, near Tadcaster, North Yorkshire. On loan from The University of Bradford

This man’s remains were found in a mass burial of 40 skeletons at Towton Hall in 2006, all of whom were soldiers at the Battle of Towton.  This skeleton shows evidence of extremely violent injuries, far beyond what would have been needed to kill him.  Square holes in his skull were made by a pole axe, and blade injuries are evident on his skull, arms and wrists.  Injuries caused to his neck by a bladed weapon suggest that he was decapitated.  It is likely that all of the individuals in the mass grave were executed after the battle rather than killed on the battlefield.