Andrey Dmitrievich Mikhailov
Medieval legends and Western European literature
On the complex paths from myth to literature, at least within the framework of medieval culture, legends took their place. It is safe to say that almost all the literature of the Middle Ages is legendary. All of its plots are, in one way or another, developed, meaningful, and expounded legends. Moreover, for the most part, these legends are their own, local, local, that is, they are also exclusively medieval. They are in no way a retelling of archaic myths, they take from such myths only individual motives, only a certain view of reality, only an attitude towards this reality. So, among the literary monuments of the Middle Ages, we will not find any replication of cosmogonic myths, nor stories, simple and uncomplicated, about the ancestors of cultural heroes, about spirits interfering in the fate of people, in the fate of a tribe or society. But individual traits of the first ancestors, and cultural heroes, and, especially, restless spirits in the characters of medieval legends are easily found. For medieval legends, individual plots and motifs of archaic myths are a grateful construction material. So there is no frontier, no confrontation. Even opposite. From myths came into medieval legends the motifs of confrontation with giants, with semi-fantastic monsters, generally with supernatural powers, motifs of sailing at random on a stormy sea without oars and a sail, or dangerous wandering in the wilds of the forest. True, these features are sometimes barely noticeable, since they are not the basis of the plot, but the methods of its design. It's more like just traces. They may be vague remnants of past myths, somehow stuck in the narrative, in the exposition of the legend, and play no part in the development of the plot; such, for example, are the horse ears of King Mark in a number of versions of the legend of Tristan and Iseult. The fact is that, unlike legends, myths reveal and explain the deep processes of being - the creation of a person, the formation of a tribe or clan, their relationship with surrounding nature, with higher, transcendental forces, often taking anthropomorphic forms. Legends are different. Unlike rather static, laconic myths, legends are mobile, changeable and in their terms can describe both the cardinal moments of the existence of medieval society and medieval man - state building, "collecting lands", rebuffing too persistent foreigners, and more private, more personal situations. - relationships within not only the tribe or clan, but also within the family, chivalrous twinning, chivalrous "love from afar", the search for any cherished objects, including the search for a bride (in this case, the influence of myths, the "memory" of them is still quite palpable ), and just an essentially aimless adventure.
The roots of myths go deep into the archaic, the roots of legends are here, in front of us, for the most part they lie on the surface. Myths are universal, medieval legends are concrete and historical in their own way. They are historical in two ways - they tell about some historical fact, giving it a fairly impressive scale (after all, historical fact it may be quite insignificant, like the battle in the Ronceval Gorge; the battle, apparently, really took place, but did not decide anything, and its main participant, the knight Roland, was too insignificant a historical character). But the historicism of the legend may be different. Some legends paint in mysterious, enchanting tones the story of the fate of one or another noble family, such as the fascinating story of the seductive snake-maiden, or the bird-maiden Melusine, who played a prominent role in strengthening the Lusignan family.
Let us repeat: the basis of medieval legends is, as a rule, some historical event that can be lost in the mists of time, or be relatively recent. In any case, a story about such an event or about some significant character is formed in the legend according to certain standards, often borrowed from the mythological archaic. And this is not contradicted by the main ideological setting of medieval legends: in most of them, either as an indispensable background or as the main meaning of the legend, there is the idea of confrontation between two worlds that are in irreconcilable antagonism. The heroes of so many legends turn out to be fighters for the faith, which is tantamount to heroes defending the interests of their native country, its strength, its statehood. Confessional conflicts underlie so many medieval narratives. That is why Christian ideas play such a large role in medieval legends (and this is a reflection of the real-life irreconcilable clash between the Christian world and the world of "infidels"). A number of legends that do not have distant, deep roots are dedicated to the open and uncomplicated confrontation of the Christian world with the non-Christian world. First, the Christian world in such legends certainly triumphs, its most striking opponents eventually go over to the camp of their recent opponents and themselves, like all neophytes usually, become even more convinced fighters for a new faith for them. By the way, this struggle for the triumph of Christianity is quite logically combined with the strengthening of Christian statehood. In other legends, the Christian beginning is present in a different form. It spiritualizes such legends and forms their ideological basis. In such legends, we usually talk about the exploits of piety (monasticism, hermitism, charity), the culmination of which is the search for the Holy Grail (as the chalice of the Eucharist), which are crowned with success only if certain moral rules are observed and a number of vows are fulfilled.
It is quite clear that both the opposition to the invasions of the pagans (the so-called "Saracens"), and the search for the Grail (both of which are completely heroic deeds) are interconnected. When the Christian statehood is protected and strengthened, one can think about joining the Christian shrine, that is, go in search of the mysterious Grail. But as if preparation for them, these searches, and sometimes completely unconscious preparation, were numerous knightly wanderings in search of unknown and unpredictable adventures - to acquire the appropriate skills, test their strength, dexterity and resourcefulness, confirm their right to enter the knightly brotherhood, which is about to , usually on the feast of the Trinity, to Round Table King Arthur and take his proper place as a knight.
Arthurian legends were in the era of the Middle Ages not only the most popular, but also the most productive. Firstly, they had a mythological and legendary basis already removed into the past, secondly, they corresponded both to the utopian moods of medieval chivalry and the political aspirations of the highest circles of the then society, thirdly, with their openness and narrative constructiveness, they gave the broadest scope for creating on their basis and according to their models more and more private legends, woven into the universal legend of a just, majestic and heroic society, which is Arthur's kingdom (or rather, a world empire). It goes without saying that in this society, so to speak, “local” conflicts, rivalries, confrontations that did not affect society as a whole could arise. It was extremely rare for King Arthur to intervene in these clashes of opposing interests and to restore order with his supreme power. Sometimes the story of such conflicts became itself an autonomous and somewhat universal legend, as happened with the story of the love of Tristan of Leonoi and Iseult Blond.
Retelling by S. Prokofieva
Dream Knight. Legends of medieval Europe in retelling for children
© Prokofieva S. L., retelling, 2014
© Ionaitis O. R., illustrations, 2014
© Compilation, introductory article, comments, series design. JSC "Publishing House" Children's Literature ", 2014
Editorial
The book you opened is a collection of legends about lovers. These legends come from the Middle Ages. And the first thing that comes to mind at the words “Middle Ages” is the majestic cathedrals of European cities, impregnable castles, noble knights and lovely ladies. But modern ideas based on legends and traditions are far from reality. For us, the heroes of those distant eras are similar to the characters of "Tales", the favorite book of the pioneer Olya, the heroine of the book "The Kingdom of Crooked Mirrors" by V. Gubarev. There, “kings, various princes and court ladies are so kind, fair, beautiful and generally so sugary-sweet, as if smeared with honey.” This happens because legends create pictures of an ideal world, to which real people who lived then should strive. In fact, in those distant and cruel times, when there were no modern states on the maps yet, and relations and life were regulated by strict rules of estates, people perceived such concepts as life, death, love, differently than we are now.
For a medieval person, there were two types of love: low (love in Everyday life, love of spouses) and high, courtly, love for an ideal beautiful lady. Courtly love can be called "love-service", since the knight served the woman he chose as his lady, just as he served his master and God. The emergence of such love was a real revolution in the minds of medieval man. The essence of service for him was the worship of the strongest before the weakest. And suddenly this strongest becomes a woman, who until then was considered an unworthy creature, the cause of the fall. The vessel of sin turns into a Lady (or Donna), that is, a Lady. Before that, in no world culture, women were so exalted.
In fact, courtly love was not a manifestation of feelings, but a kind of ritual, an action in which both participants play the prescribed roles. Truver Andrey Kaplain, to help knights and ladies in love, wrote a kind of manual - A Treatise on Love. According to this treatise, a knight, in order to earn the favor of his chosen one, must go through four stages of love-service: a knight "sighing", "noticed", "recognized" and "beloved". And a lady, in order to become the object of such love, must be the embodiment of spiritual and bodily beauty. And she doesn't have to be unmarried. And if the lady was married, then the husband was strictly forbidden to show his jealousy.
Courtly love was sung by troubadour poets. The poetry of the troubadours relied on various sources: folklore, folk songs (ritual, "May", wedding); Eastern lyrics (especially Arab-Muslim Spain, which reached its highest peak in the 11th-12th centuries); antique love lyrics(first of all, the works of Ovid, a recognized mentor in the art of love).
Courtly doctrine acted as a kind of chivalrous ideology necessary for Western European society, which was in a state of continuous war, presented as a war for faith, that is, for spiritual values. However, the knights of different countries, although they accepted the rules of courtly love, understood its meaning differently. In the south of France, in Provence, they believed that a perfect lady should be inaccessible, and serving her was a reward in itself. Southerners called such relationships "true" or "perfect" love. If these relationships have a bodily completion, then they are “vulgar, base” love. But the northerners, the Germans, precisely this "low" love was mixed with proper courtly love. In literary criticism, the terms “high courtesy” and “low courtesy” have been established to designate these two models of behavior. In literature, high courtesy was expressed in chivalrous lyrics, and low - in chivalric romance.
You can see the difference in this understanding of courtly love in the legends collected in this book. The north is represented in it by legends from Germany, and the south by legends from France and Italy.
The legends included in the collection are not genuine works of medieval authors, but retellings. Nevertheless, the narrator of these stories, Sofya Prokofieva, managed to preserve their style and originality, to convey the characters of the characters and the flavor of the era.
dream knight
Vineta - the sunken city
It happened in ancient times, now no one really remembers when it was.
One clear spring morning, the young shepherd Peter drove the flock to a green meadow near the river. It was quiet. Wings windmills darkened in the distance as motionless crosses. An old wooden shoe floated lazily and slowly past the shore, otherwise no one would have noticed that the water was moving.
The shepherd was from this area. Every day he saw the same thing: these fields and meadows and a leisurely, sleepily flowing river. He wanted to climb to the top of the cliff and look at the sea. The cows nibbled on the lush tall grass, and the little dog vigilantly guarded the herd.
The young shepherd went to the distant rocks, singing a song along the way:
The wave is quiet, the wave is light,
Like transparent glass.
The bells are ringing at the bottom
Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong!
At the foot of a green hill nestled the house of an old fisherman. The old man was resting on a bench, smoking his pipe. He nodded affectionately at Peter. The old man's face was the color of dark copper, and his eyes seemed to be burnt out from the sun.
- Nice song! - he said. “I used to sing it myself when I was young. They say everything in it is true, every word, but who knows?
The shepherd waved his hand to the old fisherman and began to climb up the rocky ledges. Crooked branches of bushes clung to the skirts of the jacket. But here he is at the top. The shepherd looked around.
There was no wind, but wide gentle waves rolled along the sea all the time.
Here one crashed below, hissed, fell silent. Behind it is the second ... And suddenly, in the silence, a distant muffled ringing of bells was heard. This ringing came from somewhere below, as if climbing an invisible staircase. Louder and louder the bells sounded, and the sound of the surf could no longer drown them out.
“So, indeed, bells ring at the bottom of the sea! Peter wondered. “It’s like they’re enjoying a festive morning.”
Boom! - the mighty bell hummed dully, and others hurriedly and loudly echoed it in different voices.
At that moment, in the distance, beyond the surf, something brightly bright sparkled in the waves. The sun disappeared behind a cloud, and it became clear: it was a golden rooster emerging from the waves. What a marvel! There is a rooster on a golden ball, and the golden ball is fixed on the tip of a golden spire. A golden spire grows and stretches to the sky, and a bright path runs from it across the water.
Here two more golden roosters appeared from the sea, and now the roof of a high house is already visible above the waves, so richly decorated, as if a precious crown was put on the house.
Peter looked to the right, looked to the left... Where just a minute ago the desert waves rolled, now one could see a dense forest of lancet spiers, bell towers and turrets. So many that you can't even count!
Boom! - the big bell rattled, and the ringing silver voices of the small bells sang along with it: “We are glad for the sun, we are glad for the light! We came out of the sea, we came out of the sea ... "
Flocks of swifts took off from the towers and swirled in the sky, as if they could not get enough of the blue expanse.
Looks Peter - does not believe his eyes. Peaked roofs emerge from the waves one after another.
A few more moments - and a round island rose from the depths of the sea. And on it shines a beautiful city decorated with golden statues.
“Am I dreaming? Peter thought. “Or maybe it was the rainbow that rose over the sea and blinded me? Oh, if my beloved Magdalena were here, side by side, and saw this miracle!
The shepherd rubbed his eyes and pinched himself painfully to make sure he was not asleep. But no, the city did not disappear like a dream.
Here are the streets, here are the houses, dozens, hundreds of houses! They stand in close rows and look like golden beehives. Here is the tall cathedral.
Three watchtowers guarded the entrance to the city: one, the largest, in the middle and on both sides, two others, smaller. In the main tower there are heavy copper gates, and above them is a shield with a coat of arms: a casket full of gold and a lion with open mouth.
The sound of the surf subsided. The sea seemed to have become shallow, and from the very shore a sand spit rose from the bottom and stretched to the gate, three hundred paces long.
“Like a drawbridge,” the shepherd wondered. He hastily descended from the cliff, scratching his palms in the blood, and went to the city, bogging his feet in the wet sand.
TALES OF MEDIEVAL EUROPE
The legends and traditions of the European peoples, which developed in the Middle Ages, are diverse in plots, genres, figurative structure, and origin.
The most ancient of them are closely connected with mythology. The Scandinavian legends of the Edda are purely mythological, mythological motifs are strong in the Karelian-Finnish epic Kalevala, in the Irish legends about Cuchulain, in the Anglo-Saxon epic Beowulf.
Christianity had a great influence on the formation of the legends of medieval Europe. The term "legend", which defines the genre of most medieval European legends, has a church origin. In Latin, "legend" means "what should be read." Initially, this was the name given to the biographies of the saints, intended to be read on the days of their memory.
But since in medieval Europe it was mainly the clergy who were literate, these legends were circulated among the people in oral form, modified and colored by folk fantasy.
The first collection of such legends, often already very far from the original source, was compiled by the Genoese archbishop Jacopo de Voragine in the 13th century. This collection was called "Golden Legend".
Religious motifs are present in purely folk legends about the Grail, about the knight Tannhäuser, about Dr. Faust.
Many medieval legends reflect real historical events: the settlement of the British Isles by the Celtic tribes - in the legend of Britta, the war of the Franks and the Moors - in the "Song of Roland", the struggle for the liberation of Spain from foreign domination - in the "Song of Side". Historical events and real characters in these legends are generalized, enlarged and become epicly majestic.
The best tales of medieval Europe acquired universal significance and served as the basis for many works of world art as eternal stories about the search for beauty and truth, about the struggle for freedom and justice, about courage, about fidelity, about great love.
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From the author's bookAre the myths about the horrors of European medieval hygiene true? JONAH MCCLEARElecturer of Medieval History at the University of Leeds In the Middle Ages, people bathed when they had access to water. Wealthy people with good houses and lots of servants could bathe often.
Middle Ages. The most controversial and controversial era in the history of mankind. Some perceive it as the times of beautiful ladies and noble knights, minstrels and buffoons, when spears were broken, feasts were noisy, serenades were sung and sermons sounded. For others, the Middle Ages is a time of fanatics and executioners, the fires of the Inquisition, stinking cities, epidemics, cruel customs, unsanitary conditions, general darkness and savagery.
Moreover, fans of the first option are often embarrassed by their admiration for the Middle Ages, they say that they understand that everything was not like that, but they love the outward side of knightly culture. While the supporters of the second option are sincerely sure that the Middle Ages were not called the Dark Ages for nothing, it was the most terrible time in the history of mankind.
The fashion to scold the Middle Ages appeared back in the Renaissance, when there was a sharp denial of everything that had to do with the recent past (as we know it), and then, with the light hand of historians of the 19th century, this most dirty, cruel and rude Middle Ages began to be considered ... times since the fall of ancient states and until the 19th century, declared the triumph of reason, culture and justice. Then myths developed, which now wander from article to article, frightening fans of chivalry, the sun king, pirate novels, and in general all romantics from history.
Myth 1. All knights were stupid, dirty, uneducated dorks.
This is probably the most fashionable myth. Every second article about the horrors of Medieval customs ends with an unobtrusive morality - look, they say, dear women, how lucky you are, no matter what modern men are, they are definitely better than the knights you dream of.
Let's leave the dirt for later, there will be a separate discussion about this myth. As for ignorance and stupidity ... I thought recently how it would be funny if our time was studied according to the culture of "brothers". One can imagine what a typical representative of modern men would be like then. And you can’t prove that men are all different, there is always a universal answer to this - “this is an exception.”
In the Middle Ages, men, oddly enough, were also all different. Charlemagne collected folk songs, built schools, and knew several languages himself. Richard Lion Heart, considered a typical representative of chivalry, wrote poetry in two languages. Karl the Bold, whom literature likes to display as a kind of boor-macho, knew Latin very well and loved to read ancient authors. Francis I patronized Benvenuto Cellini and Leonardo da Vinci.
The polygamist Henry VIII knew four languages, played the lute and loved the theatre. And this list can be continued. But the main thing is that they were all sovereigns, models for their subjects, and even for smaller rulers. They were guided by them, they were imitated, and those who could, like his sovereign, could knock down an enemy from a horse and write an ode to the Beautiful Lady enjoyed respect.
Yeah, they will tell me - we know these Beautiful Ladies, they had nothing to do with their wives. So let's move on to the next myth.
Myth 2. The “noble knights” treated their wives like property, beat them and didn’t set a penny
To begin with, I will repeat what I have already said - the men were different. And in order not to be unfounded, I will remember the noble seigneur from the XII century, Etienne II de Blois. This knight was married to a certain Adele of Norman, daughter of William the Conqueror and his beloved wife Matilda. Etienne, as befits a zealous Christian, went on a crusade, and his wife remained to wait for him at home and manage the estate.
A seemingly banal story. But its peculiarity is that Etienne's letters to Adele have come down to us. Tender, passionate, yearning. Detailed, smart, analytical. These letters are a valuable source on the Crusades, but they are also evidence of how much he could love medieval knight not some mythical Lady, but his own wife.
We can recall Edward I, whom the death of his adored wife knocked down and brought to the grave. His grandson Edward III lived in love and harmony with his wife for over forty years. Louis XII, having married, turned from the first debauchee of France into a faithful husband. Whatever the skeptics say, love is a phenomenon independent of the era. And always, at all times, they tried to marry their beloved women.
Now let's move on to more practical myths that are actively promoted in the cinema and greatly confuse the romantic mood among fans of the Middle Ages.
Myth 3. Cities were sewage dumps.
Oh, what they just do not write about medieval cities. To the point that I came across the assertion that the walls of Paris had to be completed so that the sewage poured outside the city wall would not pour back. Effective, isn't it? And in the same article it was stated that since in London human waste was poured into the Thames, it was also a continuous stream of sewage. My fertile imagination immediately thrashed in hysterics, because I just couldn’t imagine where so much sewage could come from in a medieval city.
This is not a modern multi-million metropolis - 40-50 thousand people lived in medieval London, and not much more in Paris. Let's leave it aside fairy tale with a wall and imagine the Thames. This not the smallest river splashes 260 cubic meters of water per second into the sea. If you measure this in baths, you get more than 370 baths. Per second. I think further comments are unnecessary.
However, no one denies that medieval cities were by no means fragrant with roses. And now one has only to turn off the sparkling avenue and look into the dirty streets and dark gateways, as you understand - the washed and lit city is very different from its dirty and smelly inside.
Myth 4. People haven't washed for many years.
Talking about washing is also very fashionable. Moreover, absolutely real examples are given here - monks who did not wash themselves from excess “holiness” for years, a nobleman, who also did not wash himself from religiosity, almost died and was washed by servants. And they also like to remember Princess Isabella of Castile (many saw her in the recently released film The Golden Age), who vowed not to change her linen until victory was won. And poor Isabella kept her word for three years.
But again, strange conclusions are drawn - the lack of hygiene is declared the norm. The fact that all the examples are about people who vowed not to wash, that is, they saw in this some kind of feat, asceticism, is not taken into account. By the way, Isabella's act caused a great resonance throughout Europe, a new color was even invented in her honor, so everyone was shocked by the vow given by the princess.
And if you read the history of baths, and even better - go to the appropriate museum, you can be amazed at the variety of shapes, sizes, materials from which the baths were made, as well as ways to heat water. IN early XVIII century, which they also like to call the age of dirty, one English count even got a marble bathtub with taps for hot and cold water- the envy of all the acquaintances who went to his house as if on a tour.
Queen Elizabeth I took a bath once a week and demanded that all courtiers also bathe more often. Louis XIII generally soaked in the bath every day. And his son Louis XIV, whom they like to cite as an example of a dirty king, because he just didn’t like baths, wiped himself with alcohol lotions and loved to swim in the river (but there will be a separate story about him).
However, to understand the failure of this myth, it is not necessary to read historical works. It is enough to look at pictures of different eras. Even from the sanctimonious Middle Ages, there are many engravings depicting bathing, washing in baths and baths. And in later times, they especially liked to portray half-dressed beauties in baths.
Well, the most important argument. It is worth looking at the statistics of soap production in the Middle Ages to understand that everything that is said about the general unwillingness to wash is a lie. Otherwise, why would it be necessary to produce such a quantity of soap?
Myth 5. Everyone smelled terrible
This myth follows directly from the previous one. And he also has real proof - the Russian ambassadors at the French court complained in letters that the French "stink terribly." From which it was concluded that the French did not wash, stank and tried to drown out the smell with perfume (about perfume is a well-known fact).
This myth flashed even in Tolstoy's novel "Peter I". Explaining to him couldn't be easier. In Russia, it was not customary to wear perfume heavily, while in France they simply poured perfume. And for a Russian person, the Frenchman, who profusely stinks of perfume, was “stinking like wild animal". Who traveled to public transport next to a heavily perfumed lady, he will understand them well.
True, there is one more evidence regarding the same long-suffering Louis XIV. His favorite, Madame Montespan, once, in a fit of a quarrel, shouted that the king stinks. The king was offended and soon after that parted with the favorite completely. It seems strange - if the king was offended by the fact that he stinks, then why shouldn't he wash himself? Yes, because the smell was not coming from the body. Louis had serious problems with health, and with age he began to smell bad from his mouth. It was impossible to do anything, and naturally the king was very worried about this, so Montespan's words were a blow to a sore spot for him.
By the way, we must not forget that in those days there was no industrial production, the air was clean, and the food may not be very healthy, but at least without chemistry. And therefore, on the one hand, hair and skin did not get greasy for longer (remember our air of megacities, which quickly makes washed hair dirty), so people, in principle, did not need washing for longer. And with human sweat, water, salts were released, but not all those chemicals that are full in the body of a modern person.
Myth 6. Clothes and hairstyles were infested with lice and fleas.
This is a very popular myth. And he has a lot of evidence - flea traps that noble ladies and gentlemen really wore, references to insects in literature as something taken for granted, fascinating stories about monks almost eaten alive by fleas. All this really testifies - yes, there were fleas and lice in medieval Europe. Only now the conclusions are made more than strange. Let's think logically. What does a flea trap testify to? Or an animal on which these fleas should jump? It doesn’t even take a special imagination to understand - this indicates a long war going on with varying success between people and insects.
Myth 7. No one cared about hygiene
Perhaps this myth can be considered the most offensive for people who lived in the Middle Ages. Not only are they accused of being stupid, dirty and smelly, they also claim that they all liked it.
What was supposed to happen to mankind in early XIX century, so that before that he liked everything to be dirty and lousy, and then suddenly he suddenly stopped liking it?
If you look through the instructions on the construction of castle toilets, you can find curious notes that the drain should be built so that everything goes into the river, and does not lie on the shore, spoiling the air. Apparently people didn't really like the smell.
Let's go further. Eat famous story about how one noble Englishwoman was remarked about her dirty hands. The lady retorted: “You call this dirt? You should have seen my feet." This is also cited as a lack of hygiene. And did anyone think about strict English etiquette, according to which it is not even possible to tell a person that he spilled wine on his clothes - this is impolite. And suddenly the lady is told that her hands are dirty. This is the extent to which other guests must have been outraged to break the rules good manners and make this comment.
And the laws that the authorities of different countries issued every now and then - for example, bans on pouring slop into the street, or regulation of the construction of toilets.
The main problem of the Middle Ages was that it was really difficult to wash then. Summer does not last that long, and in winter not everyone can swim in the hole. Firewood for heating water was very expensive, not every nobleman could afford a weekly bath. And besides, not everyone understood that illnesses come from hypothermia or insufficiently clean water, and under the influence of fanatics they attributed them to washing.
And now we are smoothly approaching the next myth.
Myth 8. Medicine was practically non-existent.
What can you not hear enough about medieval medicine. And there were no means other than bloodletting. And they all gave birth on their own, and without doctors it’s even better. And all medicine was controlled by priests alone, who left everything at the mercy of God's will and only prayed.
Indeed, in the first centuries of Christianity, medicine, as well as other sciences, was mainly practiced in monasteries. There were hospitals and scientific literature. The monks contributed little to medicine, but they made good use of the achievements of ancient physicians. But already in 1215, surgery was recognized as a non-ecclesiastical business and passed into the hands of barbers.
Of course, the whole history of European medicine simply does not fit into the scope of the article, so I will focus on one person, whose name is known to all readers of Dumas. We are talking about Ambroise Pare, the personal physician of Henry II, Francis II, Charles IX and Henry III. A simple enumeration of what this surgeon contributed to medicine is enough to understand at what level surgery was in the middle of the 16th century.
Ambroise Pare introduced a new method of treating then new gunshot wounds, invented prosthetic limbs, began to perform operations to correct the "cleft lip", improved medical instruments, wrote medical works, which surgeons throughout Europe later studied. And childbirth is still accepted according to his method. But most importantly, Pare invented a way to amputate limbs so that a person would not die from blood loss. And surgeons still use this method.
But he did not even have an academic education, he was simply a student of another doctor. Not bad for "dark" times?
Conclusion
Needless to say, the real Middle Ages is very different from the fairy-tale world of chivalric novels. But it is no closer to the dirty stories that are still in fashion. The truth is, as always, somewhere in the middle. People were different, they lived differently. The concepts of hygiene were indeed quite wild for a modern look, but they were, and medieval people took care of cleanliness and health, as far as their understanding was.
And all these stories ... someone wants to show how modern people“cooler” than the medieval ones, someone simply asserts himself, and someone does not understand the topic at all and repeats other people's words.
And finally - about memoirs. Talking about terrible morals, lovers of the "dirty Middle Ages" especially like to refer to memoirs. Only for some reason not on Commines or La Rochefoucauld, but on memoirists like Brantome, who probably published the largest collection of gossip in history, seasoned with his own rich imagination.
On this occasion, I propose to recall the post-perestroika anecdote about the trip of a Russian farmer to visit an English one. He showed the farmer Ivan a bidet and said that his Mary was washing there. Ivan thought - but where is his Masha washing? Came home and asked. She answers:
- Yes, in the river.
- And in winter?
- How long is that winter?
And now let's get an idea of hygiene in Russia according to this anecdote.
I think if we focus on such sources, then our society will turn out to be no cleaner than the medieval one. Or remember the program about the parties of our bohemia. We supplement this with our impressions, gossip, fantasies and you can write a book about the life of society in modern Russia(we are worse than Brantoma - also contemporaries of events). And the descendants will study the manners in Russia according to them early XXI century, to be horrified and say what terrible times were ...
P.S. From the comments to this post: Just yesterday I was re-reading the legend of Thiel Ulenspiegel. There Phillip I says to Phillip II: - Have you spent time with an indecent girl again, when noble ladies are at your service, refreshing themselves with fragrant baths? And you preferred a girl who has not yet had time to wash off the traces of the embrace of some soldier? Just the most unbridled Middle Ages.
Castles keep many secrets. Their rich history is shrouded in legends. Each castle has its own unique, inimitable legend about its construction, incidents and its inhabitants! These legends often border on reality, but the mystical overtones of each of these stories only stirs up interest in these amazing architectural creations!
The Legend of the Cursed Room
In 1567 Pan Vratislav from Perštejn became the owner of Litomyšl Castle. It was a rich nobleman and it was under him that the castle was rebuilt and now we see it as it was then. But immediately after the construction, one room in the castle received a bad reputation, they said that at night someone walks in it and rearranges the furniture. Therefore, no one wanted to stay in this room for the night. Once a poor nobleman drove into the castle and asked to spend the night. He seemed to the manager of the castle not an important enough person, and therefore he decided to settle him in an empty room. The nobleman did not know anything about her notoriety and was therefore immensely glad that he would have a roof over his head and tired, after a long journey, calmly fell asleep. As soon as the clock struck twelve, thunder sounded right above his head. The sleep of the poor gentry was taken away, he jumped up on his bed and began to look around, the moonlight fell through the window and it was clear that there was no one in the room, but someone creaked the floorboards, and he could swear on the Bible that he heard someone Breathing right behind you. And suddenly the silence of the night was broken by a thunderous voice: - "Saecula saeculorum!" he said. The gentry flew out of the room in a hurry and ran along the corridor of the castle, he rushed like an arrow to the manager's room and began to tell what had happened to him.
Despite the dark night, the nobleman left the castle and no one else saw him in those parts. After such an adventure, the manager of the castle decided that he would close the damned room with a key and would not let anyone in there anymore, because he was afraid that no one else would suffer from tricks evil spirit. Since then, 7 years have passed, and no one else entered the enchanted room, even during the day the servants were afraid to enter it. Once a wandering monk entered the castle and asked to spend the night, but all the rooms in the castle were occupied, except for one - enchanted. - Well, I have one room that is still free, but no one has entered it for seven years. As you understand, it will not be very clean, - the manager said to the monk. - And how much do I need, - he answered, - I serve God and I had to sleep in the worst places. “Look for yourself, but I can’t take responsibility that nothing bad will happen to you, this room is enchanted, the spirit lives there,” the owner admitted. “Well, so what?” the cheerful monk objected, “God will protect me from all evil spirits.” The room was indeed not very clean, there were thick cobwebs in the corners, and a thick layer of dust lay on the furniture, but the bed and blanket were soft and warm, and the monk fell asleep peacefully.
At midnight, thunder rang out over his head, the monk immediately woke up, crossed himself three times and said into the darkness: “What do you need, spirit? If you tell me what you did wrong, you will repent, I can help you. There was a heavy sigh in the room and a breath of cold, and then a voice said: - "Saecula saeculorum!" The monk knew that this was Latin and that these words were pronounced during mass in the church, and he knew that after them one should say “Amen!”, which he did. "Thank you very much! I am free!” the spirit said, and this was the last thing the monk heard, no one else bothered him until morning. Early in the morning the manager came in to wake the monk, and he told him about his nightly adventure. Many times the manager thanked the monk for his help, and even gave him money for the journey. Since then, the room was put in order and began to be used like the rest of the chambers in the castle, and if anything could be heard from it, it was only the smooth snoring of the guests.
Legend of the Lost Treasure 
Already in the 12th century, the Český Šternberg Castle was picturesquely reflected in the waters of the Sazava River. From that time to the present day, the castle belongs to this glorious Sternberg family. Once upon a time, one of the ancestors of the Sternbergs sold the huge palace that belonged to him, and very successfully. And he received for him as much as a hundred thousand gold pieces, this is a whole chest of gold. He brought all the proceeds to his castle Sternberg. But soon he was forced to go to Vienna on urgent business. During his absence, he appointed the manager of his faithful servant Gink. The times were dashing and gangs of robbers often attacked cities and castles. And Pan Sternberg began to think how he could keep his gold. He didn’t think of anything more reliable, how to leave some of the money in the city, and take some with him and hope that at least half of the money he earned would still remain.
He called the faithful Gink to him and ordered him to protect his gold as his own. And not the next morning he set off on the road. Hynek remained to manage the castle, but he was haunted by the thought of how he could save the gold for his master. After all, times are dashing, servants cannot be trusted, and detachments of robbers and wandering knights can attack the castle at any moment. And he decided, under the cover of night, to take the gold away from sin away into the rocks and hide it there. After that, for the first time, he slept peacefully at night. A few days later, Hynek rode a horse into an open field, but misfortune happened. His horse was thrown out of the saddle and severely mutilated Gink. Czech Shtenberg The legend of the lost treasure The peasants who came to work in the field found his already almost lifeless body and brought him to the castle. When Ginek came to, he could neither move nor speak.
Then the butler clerk was called to poor Gink, who was the most educated of all the servants of the castle. When the clerk came into the room, barely alive Ginek began to sort out coins one by one and point his finger behind the walls of the castle, but no matter how hard the clerk tried to understand what the honest man wanted to explain to him Ginek could not, despite all his education. And at night Ginek died. When Pan Sternberg returned to his castle, he learned that his manager was dead. First of all, he ran to check his gold, but the chest turned out to be empty. Pan Sternberg grieved for a long time about his loss, threatened his servants with all sorts of punishments, but no one knew anything about his missing gold. When the news about the impending punishment reached the clerk, he came to Pan Sternberg with a confession and said, “Now I understand what Ginek wanted to tell me before his death! He tried to show me where he hid the gold, but I, the fool, did not understand him! So only me should be punished, for my stupidity! ”But Pan Sternberg was a fair man and realized that it was not the clerk’s fault in such a terrible combination of circumstances and let him go in peace. For a long time later, his servants searched every corner in the castle and dug up the surrounding fields, but all in vain, they never found gold. So, to this day, the Sternberg treasure of its owner lies and waits.
The legend of the devil's tower 
A long time ago, in those old days, when the whole city of Cheb (Cheb) was still surrounded by fortress walls, the widow Maria Martin lived here in the house "At the Two Princes" with her daughter. As it sometimes happens, the mother was simply "mad" about the beauty of her daughter. I bought her more and more new outfits and jewelry, even more magnificent and refined than the previous ones. She looked after her like a rare, fragile flower grown in a greenhouse, protecting her from the slightest everyday difficulties and worries. The girl's name was Rosalie. Every day she became more demanding and capricious, imagining that the whole world should serve her in the same way as her mother did.
There was no entertainment in the city where Rosalie would not appear in a new, even more beautiful outfit, overshadowing the rest of the girls with her beauty. The most noble and rich young men of the city crowded around her, but none of them attracted the attention of Rosalie. She was waiting for a prince who would come to her from distant lands, eclipsing those around her with her beauty and wealth.
On Christmas Eve, the hall in the house "At the Golden Sun" was lit up with hundreds of wax candles. Young people danced in unimaginable masquerade costumes. Some of the guests appeared at the ball in tribal knightly armor, others dazzled with the splendor of oriental outfits, others, jumping up and ringing bells to the general outbursts of laughter, amused the rest in their colorful jester costumes.
Rosalie, dressed in the color of the dawn, in lace, like the most delicate clouds in the sky, was the decoration of the ball. Her jewels shone with marvelous stars, her face was covered with the thinnest golden veil. Her steps were as light as a spring breeze. Next to her danced a stranger - stately, with an unusually fine physique, dressed in a tight-fitting suit of gold brocade with a rare pattern of iridescent scarlet. A black mask hid his features. Of scarlet silk were his gloves and cap, adorned with two black feathers. The waist was wrapped around a belt in the form of a snake made of red
gold (at times it seemed that the snake came to life and moved), every button on his suit was a diamond the size of a walnut.
It was nearing midnight. The candles burned out. The last musical chords resounded. Only one couple continued to dance. Rosalie and the stranger, obeying the rhythm of the only music they could hear, hovered between the guests present, who followed them with spellbound eyes. The footmen threw open the doors. The stranger, dragging Rosalie with him, slipped out of the hall onto the marble staircase,
then down the steps straight into the snow-covered dark streets of Cheb. Snowflakes swirled around the dancing couple. Soon no one could be seen in the darkness, so swiftly they rushed along the narrow street leading to the fortress. Rosalie's chesty laughter could still be heard in the distance.
Suddenly, a terrible scream pierced the darkness of the night. A woman dressed in all black rushed after the dancing couple with outstretched arms. It was two o'clock in the morning on the tower. Everything was quiet in the square.
Before dawn, walking around the fortress, the night watchman heard sad lamentations and weeping coming from a tower standing over the river itself. Coming closer, he saw a motionless snow-covered figure in front of him. It was Maria Martin - completely frozen. Her eyes were wide open and bloodshot, at her feet lay a scarlet satin cap with two black feathers, and next to it was a golden veil.
From the tower came a chesty laugh so strange and painfully sad that the night watchman was terrified. His heart sank. He rushed to enter the tower, but there were no doors anywhere. Noticing something strange on the wall, he raised a lantern above him and saw the inscription: "Devil's Tower."
To this day, this tower stands over the river. Once a year - at Christmas, early before dawn, a girl's laugh is heard from her, so strange and sad that the one who hears it will shrink his heart.
The Legend of the Singing Path
Charles was exiled from capital Prague to the small castle of Krivoklat. Due to the intrigues of cunning and mercenary courtiers, who denigrated his son (Charles IV) in the eyes of his father (King of the Czech Republic Jan Lutsenbursky) for redeeming the lands mortgaged by his father and building cities and did not let them seize the royal goods.
And his father punished him without his permission not to leave the castle anywhere. Krivoklat Castle stood in a dense wilderness in the middle of dense forests.
Together with Karl, his young wife Bianca Valois also left for Krivoklat.
After the luxury and noisy amusements of the French court, where she lived all her life, a quiet and joyless life in a small forest castle oppressed her, but she did not want to upset her beloved husband, because it was already hard for him. So the young wife walked like a shadow around the castle, as if all the joy of life had left her.
The young king saw that his beloved wife was languishing from anguish and began to think about how to cheer up his beauty.
One warm summer evening, the young king stood at the window and watched the sun set over the forest. Below, under the walls of the castle, birds sang in an iridescent chorus, when suddenly, he noticed that Bianca and her ladies were coming out onto the path that ran under the walls of the castle. She went there with her retinue every day to please the soul yearning for her home with the evening singing of birds. At that moment, the king had an idea how he could please his young wife. He ordered his servants to catch the most beautifully singing birds throughout the area and let them out of the cages near the walls of the castle. Every two days, then, birds of prey were released from cages near the castle.
Young Bianca Valois cheered up and her face acquired the same blush. She soon learned that it was her beloved husband who was taking such good care of her. And how could she have expected a better gift? They say many birds have remained to live near the camps of Krivoklat, and now the wonderful singing pleases the ears not only of kings and queens, but also of you and me. And the path from the city walls to the stream along which Bianca walked is called singing.
The legend of how the old goat saved the city
Karlštejn city siege In 1422, when Jan Zizka conquered the city of Krasivok, Hetman Zikmund Koributa began the siege of Karlštejn with his many thousands of Hussite troops. But it quickly became clear that the city could not be taken by storm. Then the hetman decided that hunger would force the defenders to open the gates of the city faster than cannons. And he gave the order to take the city under siege. The siege of the city lasted for a whole month and already warm autumn days were replaced by cold and rains of late autumn, and the defenders still did not give up.
Then the cunning Zikmund decided to ask the townspeople for a truce in honor of the feast of St. Wenceslas, and when they agreed, he invited the defenders of the castle to his camp for a feast. He counted on the fact that the abundance on the tables would bring discord into the ranks of the defenders of the fortress, exhausted by hunger, they would break down and surrender the city, or at least one of them would decide to commit treason. to the general meeting and decided that they would send their representatives to the camp of the enemy, but no one there would show the appearance of being hungry.
When at the table, which was bursting with food, the besiegers saw that the defenders of the fortress were eating almost nothing at all, they began to ask how things were in the city and why they ate so little at the feast.
The defenders of the fortress struggled with hunger with all their might, but they didn’t give a look and answered that they were full, because just before leaving the castle there was lunch and now they don’t want to eat at all. This answer puzzled the besiegers, because if the castle really has a secret the passage through which provisions are brought to the castle, then it is still unknown how long they will freeze in an open field holding a siege, and autumn has already begun to test their strength. And doubt crept into the minds of the Hetman military commanders.
But all the same, the hetman decided to wait and not lift the siege until the day of St. Martin.
And hunger was already descending on the city. Almost all the supplies had already been eaten, and people already had to fight more with themselves than with the enemy in order to withstand the siege. Something had to be done. Of the food in the whole city, only the old goat remained.
Castle Dungeon Legend
The legend says that the city of Houska was built on a rock, under which the entrance to hell is located. Under the castle itself, there are allegedly many underground passages that will lead you to hell. According to legend, there was a gate that opened the way to a mysterious dungeon. But there is no information about where exactly these gates were. According to one version, the gate towered not far from the castle, where a small baroque church used to stand. Another version claims that the gates to hell were located in the castle itself, and until now they are hidden under the floor of the prayer hall. Therefore, it is no coincidence that people who enter the chapel feel bad, many even lose consciousness, and dogs, in general, completely refuse to go there. There is a third version, according to which one could get to hell by diving into a well in the castle courtyard. The rumor about a terrifying dungeon was aggravated by an old legend about a convict, to whom the owners of the castle themselves promised pardon on the condition that he descend into the magical gorge and find out what is hidden in its depths. The suicide bomber accepted this offer, but, having gone only a few meters down, he asked with a desperate cry to return to the surface. Pulling the unfortunate man out, the witnesses saw a man frightened to death with hair gray with horror, absurdly asserting that below he saw the devil in hell, which does not exist in the underworld. A few days later, the convict died.
Local residents immediately wanted to fill up the hellish gorge, but in vain - the stones in it disappeared as if in a bottomless throat. This was only possible after three years of hard work by the owner of the city, Jan the Younger from Wartenberg. A monument of Central European significance is the palace chapel, with wall paintings of the 13th and 14th centuries, under which, as it says ancient legend are the gates to hell. And so, for reliability, a chapel gradually grew over the filled up “chasm of non-existence” as a kind of holy giant shutter against the penetration of demons, not the light of God. It is this chapel, the second in the castle, that is one of the most mysterious in Central Europe. On the east side it is closed by five sides of the octagon, on the west side it is framed by a podium accessible from the outside terrace or via a spiral staircase leading from the lower part of the chapel. Her silhouette seems to embody sacramental geometry with the digital meaning of mystical cabalistics. At the altar, the chapel is divided into 8 parts, while on the ninth side - the end of the Universe - the altar is oriented to the east. Frescoes are of considerable historical and artistic interest, presumably from the 30s. 14th century, preserved almost in its original form, which, in terms of themes, again, are part of the most valuable collection of monuments Central Europe. Belong to them, for example, two large figures of the archangel Gabriel and the archangel Michael - "the leader of the army of the Lord" against the fallen angels and the protector from the forces of darkness and evil.
Towering above the podium is Saint Christophe, a celebrated martyr who lived in the 3rd century. Nearby are the Frescoes of Offer, Herod, who turned into a man and, at one time, was perceived as an alchemical allegory of a bearer of gold. The following frescoes very clearly depict the battle between good and evil, of which the figure of a mysterious warrior with a huge bow is the most specific. That's just its meaning to this day remains undisclosed. There are still no answers to the questions why so many dead birds fall in the vicinity of the castle, and the dogs behave restlessly and drag their owners away from the devilish place. Why are voices and groans heard from the depths of an empty well? Why are the archangels Michael and Gabriel depicted on the walls of this well - in Christian mythology, the main fighters against the devil? And why are there so many images of strange creatures - half people, half lions? A letter from Vaclav Gayek from Lubochan, who lived in the 15th century, has been preserved. He wrote to his brother Edward: "I was walking through the forest, not far from the town of Houska. Suddenly a rock cracked under the hail, a hole formed, and from this hole evil spirits began to appear and turn into animals ..." This mystical haze of mystery around the castle of Houska in hasn't dissipated for centuries.
Legend of the chess tournament 
Far 1454, northern Italy, Marostica Castle.
According to legend, Rinaldo da Angarano and Vieri da Valonara are fighting for the hand of the daughter of the owner of the castle, Taddeo Parisio. In order to achieve the love of the beautiful Lionora, they must play chess. that these two young valiant warriors at first wanted to fight in a duel, but the owner of the castle did not allow them to do this (Taddeo Parisio was attached to both young people and did not want to lose devoted vassals and experienced fighters), that's when he came up with this trick to play in chess. The loser, however, would not be at a loss, he was promised a younger daughter.
Every double year, on the second Friday, Saturday and Sunday of September, a holiday is held in the town of Marostica, as in the old days, the whole city gathers on that very main square and there is a chess game.
The legend of the golden spindle 
One of the legends tells that two brothers Johan and Friedrich Bera, who lived in the castle, fell in love with the beautiful Sybil. The beauty could not make her choice for a long time, thinking which of the brothers to give preference to. And then Johan decided to kill his brother and get the hand of a beautiful lord's daughter. Under the cover of night, Johan did what he had planned, only the blood of his murdered brother stained the wall in the castle room. The culprit tried to hide what he had done by thoroughly washing the wall. Johan soon married Sabile and brought her to the castle. Showing the castle premises, in the room where the crime was committed, he again saw a bright red spot. Each time the stain appeared again, there was nothing left to do but close this wall with a closet. Having settled in the castle, Sybil was often left alone, Johan spent his days hunting. One day, the gnomes came to her and asked her to play a wedding, on the condition that no one should see them. At midnight, when the wedding was in full swing, Johan returned from the forest. As soon as he entered the room, not understanding what was happening, everything immediately disappeared. Sybil told him about the dwarves and their wedding, Johan jumped on his horse and rode back into the forest.
In the morning he was found dead in the forest. Several years passed, Sybil was sitting at needlework in the evening, and saw a dwarf with a golden spindle in his hands, who promised to give her the spindle if the wedding took place again in the castle. This golden spindle can bring happiness to the castle, the little dwarf explained. After the wedding was successful, Sybil received a golden spindle and decided to wall it up in the wall of one of the castle's rooms. Many years later, after this event, Baron Adolf Behr and his wife Evelina decided to rearrange the palace. In place of the indelible red stain, a fireplace was installed so that the flames of the fire would clear the crime scene. While working on the castle, two architects suddenly died one after the other. People said that the long-dead Sybil, who was afraid that someone would find her golden spindle, was to blame. After these events, Baron Adolf Ber personally supervised all the work in the castle, and no more unpleasant events occurred.
The legend of the construction of the castle 
Previously, in the old days, the owners of the Dundaga Castle did not have the right to leave an inheritance to their daughters. If there were no sons, then the castle and other property passed to some male relative. And, as if out of spite, the owners of the Dundaga Castle had no sons for a long time, only daughters. The gentlemen were very sad that they could not leave their goods to their own children, but had to give them to strangers. And here again, the Dundag baron has either three or four daughters and not a single son. And he is already in years. He sometimes could not sleep at night because of chagrin. One night I thought again that I was about to die soon, but there was no heir. The baron could not sit at home, he went out into the garden. It was midnight. He walked, walked, suddenly, out of nowhere, a little gnome. He asks the baron why he is so sad, why he does not sleep at night. Baron and tell the dwarf about your misfortune: he himself is old, there is no heir, he will have to castle and leave all the good to strangers. The dwarf grinned and said: “No big trouble! You let us dwarves play a wedding at night in your great hall. Yes, see that no one peeps what we are doing. Here you will have a son.” The baron was very happy about this and promised that no one would peep. Soon the night came when the dwarfs to play the wedding. The baron locked all the doors beforehand and strictly ordered that no one even come close to the big hall. Everyone knew that the baron was strict and if you disobey him, then be in trouble, so they obeyed the order and no one peeped what was happening in the hall. But the gardener had a daughter, and the groom had a son.
They always walked in the garden at night. Walk, walk, see; the great hall is as brightly lit as ever. The guy kept the girl, but she became stubborn: she definitely needs to find out what is there in the hall. I crept under the window, looked - how! gnomes celebrate the wedding. Everything would have worked out, but just at the moment when the gardener's daughter looked in at the window, one dwarf, jumping up, slipped and fell; The girl broke into laughter, and she burst out laughing at the top of her voice. Immediately the light went out, and the dwarfs fled in all directions. Only the old dwarf remained; he approached the gardener's daughter and said: "Because you could not resist and peeped, you walk here after death at night, depriving everyone of peace." Saying this, the old dwarf also disappeared. The gardener's daughter soon died. And, as the dwarf said, so it was fulfilled: the gardener's daughter wanders around the castle at night. She wears the same green dress she wore when she was alive, which is why she was nicknamed the Green Maiden. And the next night, the dwarf came to the baron and said: “You did not fulfill your promise. Neither you nor your descendants will have a son. Only then will a son be born from your descendants, when a birch tree as high as a lullaby rises on a stone at the big gate. And indeed - on that very day, a birch sprout peeped out on a stone near the big gate. Today, they say, he has grown considerably and, if someone has not broken him off, soon, perhaps, he will stretch out from a lullaby pole. I just don’t know if someone broke off a birch tree? But if no one broke it off, it is unlikely that any other baron was destined to own the Dundaga castle.
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