The Pope vs. Witchcraft

John XXII (pope from 1316 - 1334 in Avignon) had a lot of opinions, getting involved in politics all over Christendom, opposing the Franciscan ideal of the need for poverty, and passing numerous papal bulls to enforce his numerous ideas of what was right and proper.

After an assassination attempt on him that used poison and sorcery, he turned his attention to condemning witchcraft. His bull of 1326 said:

With grief we discover, and the very thought of it wrings our soul with anguish, that there are many Christians only in name; many who turn away from the light which once was theirs, and allow their minds to be so clouded with the darkness of error as to enter into a league with death and a compact with hell. They sacrifice to demons and adore them, they make or cause to be made images, rings, mirrors, phials or some such things in which by the art of magic evil spirits are to be enclosed. From them they seek and receive replies, and ask aid in satisfying their evil desires. For a foul purpose they submit to the foulest slavery. Alas! this deadly malady is increasing more than usual in the world and inflicting greater and greater ravages on the flock of Christ.

The practice of witchcraft had not been formally condemned prior to this, although there were certainly instances of the authorities trying people for using witchcraft to hurt others. This action by John put witchcraft under the label of heresy; it therefore fell under the jurisdiction of the Inquisition, and those suspected of practicing could be rounded up, questioned, and made to recant or else to suffer.

This papal bull established the official attitude toward witchcraft for the rest of the Middle Ages. But the question raised is: How big a deal was witchcraft? Was it popular? What form did it take? Let's look at witchcraft tomorrow.

Female Physicians

We talked here about how women and Jewish women could be physicians in the Middle Ages, but it would be a mistake to think that there was no opposition to this phenomenon, especially after a change in 1220.

Consider that, technically, anyone could practice medicine. No one would object to a mother caring for a family member, or a nun feeding a leper (as in the illustration). More formal, professional medical practice in France, however, required a degree from the University of Paris. This prevented many, women especially, from helping their fellow human beings. There were consequences for treating the sick if you were not "official."

Consider the case of Jacqueline Felice de Almania, a woman from Florence who was living in Paris. Her reputation was excellent: she was known for finding cures for patients who had been treated elsewhere without relief. She did not charge fees unless the patient was cured. 

In 1322, she was brought to trial by the University of Paris. The accusation was treating patients without any "real" knowledge of medicine; that is, she did not have a degree. Seven former patients were brought as witnesses; all testified that she had helped them where male doctors had failed. Her actions involved analyzing urine by sight, taking the pulse of patients, examining their limbs, etc. She was found guilty of practicing without a license, fined 60 pounds, and threatened with excommunication if she ever treated patients again.

The year 1322 was popular for cracking down on unlicensed medical practitioners. In that same year, records show women named Clarice of Rouen (banned for treating men), Jeanne the Convert (likely originally a Jew) of Saint-Médicis, Marguerite of Ypres, and "Jewess Belota" all were banned from practicing medicine.

The University of Paris in 1325 appealed to Pope John XXII to speak out strongly on this issue. He wrote to Bishop Stephen of Paris to forbid women practicing without medical knowledge or acting as midwives, because what they were doing was akin to witchcraft. A bit of a stretch to go from medicine to witchcraft just because the person was female, but then, John was determined to stamp out witchcraft...and a lot of other things, which I'll talk more about tomorrow.

(By the way, women earning medical degrees at the University of Paris was suppressed until the 19th century!)

Jewish Female Physicians

Female doctors were not unknown in medieval Europe. I've written before of Trotula, for instance, and of course there were midwives. The practice of midwifery was naturally dominated by women; in some cases  men were not even allowed in the room during childbirth. Even if they were, they did not necessarily involve themselves directly in the process. One medieval Jewish medical text, in the section on childbirth, has the physician direct the midwife to "massage the orifice of her womb" with herbs rather than do it himself.

But Jewish women were not just midwives. Many of them learned and practices medicine thanks to their families. Jews were not allowed to attend Christian universities, so they could not earn medical degrees in the normal way. Anyone could, however, "test out" by passing an exam and earning a license to practice medicine. Jews—female as well as male—did this by learning from mentors and family members who were physicians.

Two examples were Hava from Provençal, mentioned in the 1320s for her medical ability, and Virdimura, who earned her medical license in 1376 in Sicily. In both cases, we know that their husbands were physicians (in Hava's case so were her sons), and so medicine was clearly the "family business." Mayrona, from Provençal, appears in 40+ documents starting in 1342 as a holder of a licentia curandi et practicandi, a "license to practice medicine."

Jews were more likely to be familiar with Greek and Arabic, as well as Latin and Hebrew, and therefore had access to more medical texts than their Western European counterparts who knew Latin but did not have as many opportunities to learn other languages, and also may not have had the motivation to read texts written by non-Christians. Female Jewish doctors were accepted in Paris, Florence, and Naples as well as Sicily. They were also respected enough to become teachers of medicine as well: Sara of St. Giles was a Jewish doctor who in 14th-century France took on a Christian pupil.

I cannot in truth say that female doctors were accepted everywhere, and tomorrow I'll share some of the less-tolerant stories of this topic. See you then.

Jewish Medicine

Jews comprise less than 0.02% of the world population, and yet 28% of Nobel prize winners in medicine have been Jewish. This expertise has a long history.

The Sefer Refuot or "Book of Remedies" is the earliest known Hebrew text on medicine. It contains information on illnesses and treatments, but also talks about how to maintain health through exercise, eating properly, and observing proper hygiene. It also suggests that astrology is connected to health, and there are different treatments depending on the month. It includes a code of conduct for doctors.

Although the only manuscripts we have are later medieval ones, they are considered to be faithful copies of a very early work for a particular reason: the book does not have any of the Arabian medical knowledge that was so prevalent in the Middle Ages. The assumption is that this book recorded Jewish knowledge, including a theory of blood vessels and circulation, that pre-dates the cross-cultural sharing that happened with the spread of Muslims after the 7th century.

There was some controversy about medicine in Jewish culture. In II Chronicles 16:12, King Asa of Judah is criticized because “in his illness he sought not God but rather physicians.” In the same book, King Hezekiah is praised for hiding a medical book in order to get his people to turn to God for aid. The 13th-century Nachmanides argued that Jews have a special relationship with God and should thrive or suffer according to His will; they should not try to subvert his will through practices like medicine. Because of this turning to natural cures, he says, their relationship with God in this area has been annulled, and now they have no choice but to turn to doctors. The practice of medicine is now considered a mitzvah, a fundamental religious obligation.

Jewish physicians often learned Latin, Greek, and Arabic; along with Hebrew, they had access to many medical texts inaccessible to their Christian counterparts. This made them exceptionally knowledgeable and effective—and sought after. I've already mentioned Jacob Mantino ben Samuel, who was so important to many high-ranking figures in Venice that they asked the Council of Ten to exempt him from wearing the degrading yellow cap that was mandated to denote Jews in public.

Jewish physicians also included women among their number, not just as midwives, which we will talk about next time.

A Jewish Physician

Article One of King Henry III's 1253 Statute of Jewry allowed Jews to stay in England so long as they served the king in some capacity. There were financial advantages to having Jews around, since they were not limited by the Biblical injunction against usury (charging high interest on loans) when lending to non-Jews. Usury created a dilemma for many: usury was not to be allowed, and yet Jewish lenders were an important source of funding for some.

Another dilemma for Christian Europeans in the Middle Ages was the idea that Jews were not to be fraternized with, and yet they were often the best physicians. One example of this was mentioned here, Jacob Mantino ben Samuel (died 1549).

Jacob's family was from Tortosa, Spain, but were forced to flee in 1492 because of the Alhambra Decree. Jacob studied medicine at Padua and Bologna, staying in Bologna to set up his practice. His translations of scientific works from Hebrew to Latin brought him to the attention of the court of Pope Clement VII. War in 1527 (between the Holy Roman Empire and Protestants) caused him to settle in Verona, where the Catholic bishop protected him. When the bishop went to Rome, however, Jacob left Verona and settled in Venice.

Jacob had many influential clients: ambassadors from France and England, papal dignitaries, and other wealthy local patrons. Despite medieval culture's antipathy toward Jews, his clients made an appeal to Venice's ruling Council of Ten. The appeal—which was granted—was to exempt Jacob from wearing the yellow that was intended to denote Jews in public. Originally this was temporary, but later was made permanent.

Jacob later went to Rome, acquiring great influence and becoming personal physician to Pope Paul III in 1534. In 1544 he returned to Venice, where once again he was exempted from wearing yellow. Accompanying the Venetian ambassador to Damascus, he died in 1549.

Why was he exempted from wearing yellow? Was it a desire on the part of his clients to not be seen associating with a Jew? Or was it for a slightly more kind-hearted reason: they understood the insult of being forced to wear yellow and wanted to spare the feelings of a man they had come to respect? Perhaps a little of both. He was not unique in the Middle Ages: Jewish doctors and Jewish medicine were regarded very highly. We'll delve into that a little more deeply tomorrow.

The Yellow Badge

King Henry III's Statute of Jewry demanded (among other things) that Jews wear a badge conspicuously on their clothing. This was not a new idea. Designating "others" by a badge was already common in the Middle Ages. The Muslim and Christian worlds both found ways to distinguish those not of their faith.

In 717, Caliph Umar II ordered that non-Muslims (dhimmi) wear distinguishing marks on their clothing. The Pact of Umar, attributed to his father, had many injunctions against non-Muslims. In 847-861, Caliph Al-Mutawakkil had Christians wear honey-colored patches, on both the front and back of their clothes. In 887, the governor of the Emirate of Sicily had Jews wear special hats and yellow belts.

The Fourth Lateran Council of 1215 said Jews should at all times be denoted by their clothing, and in 1222, Archbishop of Canterbury Stephen Langton ordered English Jews to wear a white band. Distinguishing marks were ordered for Jews by the Synod of Narbonne (1227), by James I of Aragon (1228), and by Alfonso X of Castile (1265).

In 1274, King Edward I in England enacted a second Statute of Jewry, which ordered a badge of yellow felt six inches long by three inches wide to be worn. The yellow color was used in 1315 for the Jews of Granada, in 1321 by Henry II of Castile, and decreed in 1415 by a bull of Antipope Benedict XIII (men wore it on their breast, women on their forehead).

Jews in Venice wore yellow, but in 1528 a special dispensation was given to the physician Jacob Mantino ben Samuel to wear a regular black doctor's cap instead of anything yellow.

In 1710, King of Prussia Frederick William I abolished the mandatory yellow badge in Prussia. This was not an act of charity: he required 8000 thaler (the equivalent of over $75,000 today) from each person who wished to no longer wear the badge.

So what was the deal with Jacob Mantino ben Samuel? I'll explain next time.

Henry's Statute of Jewry

St. Augustine of Hippo (354 - 430) was one of the most influential writers in Christianity in its first few centuries. He believed that Jews should be tolerated by Christians because God chose them for a special purpose. Through the years, however, hostility to the Jews grew; they were made scapegoats for problems and accused of many horrible acts.

Despite this hostility, Jews created communities all over the world. The illustration shows Jewish communities in medieval England. King Henry III instituted repressive laws intended to segregate and oppress Jews. The Statute of Jewry in 1253 had 13 articles, some of which are listed here:

Article One: Jews could live in England provided that they serve the king in some manner. (This might include financial support or civil service.)

Article Two stated that no new synagogues could be constructed.

Article Three: Jews in synagogues must keep their voices low while praying so that no one else could hear them.

Article Four: Jews must donate money to their local Christian church.

Article Five banned Christians from working for Jews or living in Jews' houses.

Article Six banned Jews from eating meat during Lent.

Article Seven: Jews may not publicly dispute the Christian faith.

Article Eight banned romantic relations between Christians and Jews.

Contemporary historian Matthew Paris followed the Augustinian view of Jews, and did not approve of Henry's policies regarding them, which mirrored the papal view at the time (Innocent IV). Through Paris we discover that antipathy toward the Jews was not universal. His tolerant attitude is tested by relating incidents of supposed "blood libel" (the notion that Jews killed Christians in order to use their blood in Jewish rituals), but he has sympathy for their oppression and the financial extortion brought upon them by kings and others who saw Jews as a source of easy money. Through Matthew Paris we can see that the medieval attitude toward Jews was not monolithic.

I want to relate another article of the Statute, however, Article Nine. Article Nine commanded every Jew to wear a badge conspicuously. The yellow Star of David forced upon Jews in Germany during World War II is a familiar image. It turns out, however, that the "yellow badge" has a long history stretching back even before Henry III, but that's a story for tomorrow.

Matthew Paris

Matthew Paris (c.1200 - 1259) was a Benedictine monk at the Abbey of St. Albans, known to us for his numerous illustrated written works. We do not know why his surname was "Paris"; we have no record of him studying or living there, although given the era in which he lived it is not surprising that he wrote in either Latin or Norman French.

He was an Englishman who did get sent to Norway once to reform a Benedictine monastery on the island of Nidarholm. This gave him an opportunity to be an eyewitness to events surrounding King Haakon IV. His status as an eyewitness to history of his time is what makes him so valuable (although we are sure bias crept into some of his work).

His major work was the Chronica Majora, borrowing from Roger of Wendover's Flores Historiarum, but adding his own observations from 1235 on. An abridged version, his Historia Anglorum covers the years 1070 through 1253. There is a manuscript version which also includes the final part of the Chronica Majora covering the years 1254-1259, all in Paris's handwriting except for a last entry making note of Paris's death and having an illustration of him on his deathbed.

All the other illustrations in his writings are by him, and he had decent skill at drawing. Seen here is the most detailed map of four he produced. Another, showing the trip from London to Rome with sketches of some towns along the way, can be seen here. A picture of a beheading is here.

Paris lived while Henry III was King of England, and records many events from his reign. Paris and Roger of Wendover relate their concern about the increasing percentage of (French) foreigners coming to England. Paris and Henry met in 1236 and kept in touch, but Paris did not approve of the direction the reign was going and his account of Henry's actions is often unflattering.

One of Henry's actions that Paris might have approved (I say might)—and the modern world would certainly condemn—is Henry's "Statute of Jewry." I'll tell you about that next time.

Henry III's Troubles

Henry III's most loyal and powerful supporter was William Marshal, but William's son was not of the same mind. Richard Marshal (1191 - 1234) was William's second son, and became the 3rd Earl of Pembroke on 6 April 1231.

Henry inherited not just a crown from his father, King John, but also a country where the ranks below that of king demanded more authority and autonomy. Magna Carta was not enough, and civil unrest between the crown and less-loyal factions was a constant threat. There were also smaller conflicts that erupted into larger conflicts whenever the king took sides.

The Bishop of Winchester, Peter Des Roches, had been an important figure in Henry's youth, but in 1233 he demanded a manor be returned to a friend of his, Peter de Maulay, from Gilbert Basset, who currently held it due to earlier strife. Henry supported the bishop; Basset resisted; Henry called Basset a traitor; Basset fled to southern Wales where Richard Marshal held lands; Basset had been a friend of Richard's older brother, William, who had been the 2nd Earl of Pembroke after their father. Richard felt he should shelter and support his brother's old friend, so that's what he did.

This was a tense situation. Henry did not want to alienate Richard, and a date was sent to discuss the matter face-to-face in Gloucester, but Richard did not trust that Henry might not use the event to arrest him, so he refused to meet. Henry sent the Bishop of St. Davids to threaten Richard that his relationship with the king was in danger of being cut off. Meanwhile, the king's bailiffs demanded that one of Richard's castles, Usk Castle, be surrendered to them, with which his garrison at Usk complied.

Richard probably did not want to appear to be in rebellion against the king, but when Basset decided to make a cavalry raid across England, he was forced to act. He decided to stick with his original support of Basset. Richard allied with Prince Llywelyn ab Iorwerth of Gwynedd, and quickly seized Usk and other castles. They continued to Monmouth, where Baldwin III, Count of Guînes, came out to fight. The illustration above is from historian Matthew Paris, showing Richard unhorsing Baldwin.

Richard did not have enough forces to go as far as London and challenge the king. Meanwhile, Henry did not want to commit too many forces to deal with Richard, and hoped for a peaceful settlement. A truce with France was coming to a close, and Henry feared using up troops at home in a rebellion when they might be needed on the continent to defend English-held territory there. An attempt at peace on 1 April 1234 negotiated by Templars failed, and a fight broke out during which Richard was wounded. He succumbed to his injuries on 15 April, and the rebellion died with him.

I was going to tell next about one of Henry's policy decisions that the modern world would condemn, but I feel the need to take a side trip to Matthew Paris, whose work has been mentioned several times throughout this blog but has never been given his own entry. That's for tomorrow.

William Marshall

Guillaume le Maréchal, or William Marshal, is one of the most fascinating and impressive figures in medieval English history. Born about 1146/7 to a minor noble, he was destined to inherit no lands or fancy titles, yet he rose in the ranks to serve five kings and become one of the most powerful men in England under the fifth of those, Henry III.

His father had switched sides during The Anarchy, and William briefly became a hostage in a situation that almost led to his death. He survived, and was sent to Normandy to train as a knight under his mother's cousin, William de Tancarville. We learn about his early life and training from a biography, Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal, the only known biography from the Middle Ages of someone who was not royal.

He grew tall (six feet), and ambitious (his nickname was "Greedy Guts"), and then his father died, leaving him no money. He took his martial skills to tournaments, showing off his prowess and gaining wealth through victories. In 1170 he was appointed to the household of Young King Henry, son of Henry II. William managed Henry's tournament team and kept an eye on Henry to prevent his capture by the other side; together they won many tournaments.

Something caused them to fall out—maybe because he was accused of having an affair with Young Henry's wife, or because at Henry II's request he fought on the side of Richard when the Young King rebelled against his father—and William was "traded" to Henry's rival, Philip of Flanders, but that change was short-lived. When the Young King died of dysentery on 11 June 1183, William was by his side. Henry had made a pledge to go on Crusade, and William undertook the journey on his deceased friend's behalf, carrying Henry's cross to Jerusalem where he spent two years fighting with the Templars.

Returning to England, William stayed with King Henry, leading his soldiers against a rebellion caused by Henry's son, Richard Lionheart. William met Richard in battle and unhorsed him. Henry died shortly afterward, and Richard (who admired martial ability) gave the 43-year-old William a wife: the 17-year-old Isabel de Clare, heiress to several estates. This made William the de facto Earl of Pembroke, so he finally had a title. Richard also made William Regent while Richard went on crusade, and had William lead his armies against France.

After Richard's death, William remained in service to King John, and then was Regent for John's son Henry III. Along with the Young King, William served a total of five kings in England. Finally, in his early 70s, his health began to decline. On his deathbed he said "I cannot defend myself against death." He passed away peacefully on 14 May 1219.

He had several children with Isabel de Clare, one of whom did not share his father's loyalty to the crown, as I will explain tomorrow.

King Henry III

When King John died, his son Henry (1207 - 1272) was only nine years old. It was 1216 and in the middle of the First Barons' War. Even though the Magna Carta had been signed the year before, giving more power to those who were not king, the barons still had issues with the way government was run.

Fortunately, William Marshall led the royal forces, defeating the rebel barons. John on his deathbed had asked William to become Henry's guardian. William Marshall was an obvious choice: he had been loyal to the crown for generations. Afterward, a regency government needed to be created to aid the young king. William asked Bishop of Winchester Peter des Roches to help guide Henry. He had been Henry's tutor since Henry was five.

The papal legate to England, Cardinal Guala Bicchieri, had declared the war against the barons to be a religious crusade, and threw his support to Henry, also making sure the ties between England and the papacy were strong. (Henry's father had declared England a papal fiefdom in order to gain the pope's total support.) Henry himself "took up the cross" and declared himself a crusader, giving him special protection from the pope.

Henry's authority as a king was somewhat restored through the efforts of William, Hubert de Burgh (mentioned here and here), and Peter des Roches, who was chosen to perform the coronation (seen here in a 13th century depiction). There were problems, however.: much of the civil structure across the country had collapsed during the war. The network of sheriffs who collected taxes had fallen apart.

Rebel barons (and even some loyalist ones) were ignoring the crown's demands for taxes, some building unapproved castles (the king had the right to approve castles, since they might be used in defense against him). These "adulterine" (unapproved) castles were a larger problem during The Anarchy.

Wales was always threatening rebellion. Henry finally resolved it by making the prince Llywelyn his justiciar (chief political officer) in Wales, underlining the crown's need to compromise over its ability to conquer.

Henry adopted Edward the Confessor as his patron saint. A few times that he planned to go on Crusade were foiled when he had to stay and deal with uprisings in his lands, especially those on the continent, such as Gascony. 

His reign was long and troubled, and I'll talk about it more very soon, but first we have to focus on his most steadfast support, William Marshall, and the troubles after William died. See you tomorrow.

Quicklime

There was an actual medieval profession of lime burner, who burned calcium-rich minerals such as limestone, chalk, marble, or even sea shells. This was done to produce quicklime, which had a lot of useful properties. Dying, tanning leather, making soap, producing fertilizers, concrete—all used calcium oxide, called "quicklime."

The name, first seen as quyk lym in the late 1300s, comes from Latin calx viva, "lime quick"—using "quick" in the older sense of "living" because it was such an active substance. The ancient world discovered its usefulness for mortar (after being mixed with water to make a slurry). Limestone blocks of the pyramids have quicklime plaster. Rome used quicklime for construction extensively, and it is even found in the Great Wall of China.

The Ancient World also used it as a weapon in warfare. Powdered quicklime could be catapulted at enemies; its irritability in a person's eyes made them easy prey when the attacker engaged. Enough quicklime coming into contact with enough water could cause severe burns. King Henry III of England's (1216 - 1272) navy destroyed a French fleet by blinding the sailors with quicklime. (This was always a perilous gambit, since the wind might blow the power back to you.)

In the Middle Ages, when coal mining became cheaper and more widespread in the 12th century, burning to make quicklime was easier. It was used as mortar, plaster, for floors, and in frescoes.

One mis-use of quicklime in the Middle Ages was with corpses: it was thought to speed up decomposition, so sprinkling quicklime liberally when one needed a mass grave (after warfare, or in some responses to the Bubonic Plague) was thought to be efficient. It was also supposed to "sterilize" cesspits and counteract diseases they might engender. The truth is, however, that quicklime is actually a preservative; small amounts are sometimes used in flour to increase its acidity and act as a preservative and a leavener. Quicktime can cover the stench of decomposition, which may be why people thought it "got rid of the corpse" faster.

For many years I have read how Roman concrete became harder and more durable over time, defying logic. Very recently it was discovered that quicklime was the reason for its "self-healing" nature; here's a link to learn more.

I wanted to include a link to the reference above to Henry III, and I've discovered that I have mentioned him many times over 1263 blog posts, but have never given him his own entry. I'll will fix that oversight next time.

The Colosseum

The Roman Colosseum was begun under Emperor Vespasian in 72 CE and finished in 80 by his son, Emperor Titus. Stories of its use as a gladiatorial arena and a site for races, animal spectacles, and even nautical battles are well-known. 

When the Visigoths attacked Rome, the siege prevented the deceased from being buried in the cemeteries outside the walls, and so the area around the Colosseum became a large burial site. After the Fall of Rome and the sacking by the Visigoths, attempts were made to repair and utilize it, but the budget and management no longer existed for "bread and circuses." 

A series of earthquakes and restoration attempts took place over the next few centuries. Eventually its management fell to the most influential institution in Rome: the papacy. Between the 9th and 14th centuries, this extensive structure had many new uses, managed by the priests of Santa Maria Nova. Its underground tunnels and compartments, where staff and fighters and animals were once housed and fed and trained, became apartments and shops. The open arena was left as a sort of common area for people working and living in the building. "Row houses" were built against the north side.

(There was even a moment in 1200 when it became the home to a single wealthy family, the Frangipani.)

The illustration here is a 16th century woodcut showing the round design, but an earthquake in 1349 (as if they weren't dealing with enough tragedy with the Bubonic Plague) caused part to collapse, and its use as a rental property faded away. Also, the move of the papacy to Avignon caused Rome's population to dwindle, and the need for housing in the Colosseum (and therefore the need and income to maintain it) also dwindled.

After the return of the popes to Rome, the building (what was left) became the home of a religious order. Over the centuries, other purposes were found. One pope wanted to make it a wool factory to provide alternate jobs for the city's prostitutes. A cardinal in 1671 wanted to use it for bullfights. Both plans failed to materialize.

The Colosseum became a source of building material. The lead piping that carried water was taken and melted for other uses. The iron clamps that held stone blocks together were pried out and re-forged. The stone itself—marble and travertine—was taken and used for other buildings.

Some of the marble was burned to make quicklime. What was quicklime, and what was its use in the Middle Ages? I'll tell you tomorrow.

The Last Medieval Pope

Others may dispute it, but I call Nicholas V the Last Medieval Pope because he saw the Fall of Constantinople to the Turks and the end of the Hundred Years War (I explain more here).

Born Tomasso Parentucelli (13 November 1397 - 24 March 1455), his father died when he was young, leaving Tomasso unable to complete his education until many years later. Achieving a degree in theology, he was hired by Bishop Niccolò Albergati, spending the next 20 years as the bishop's personal assistant and librarian, helping the bishop to acquire a large library. He read as well as curated; his wide knowledge of theology made him valuable and respected.

When Albergati died, Tommaso was offered the position of bishop, but Bologna was going through a some political troubles that made his appointment unlikely. Pope Eugene IV sent him on diplomatic missions at which Tommaso was so successful that he earned a cardinal's hat. Upon Eugene's death, Tommaso was elected to succeed him, taking the name Nicholas to honor his original patron.

He carried his love of learning and arts to the papacy. During his time:

—A library of 5000 volumes was created, including manuscripts rescued from Constantinople after it fell to the Turks. More on the evolution of the new Vatican Library can be found here.

—He promoted the new humanist learning, sending emissaries East to invite Greek scholars from Constantinople.

—He started his papacy by restoring the major Roman basilicas, and cleaning and paving main streets.

—He restored the Aqua Virgo, one of the 11 main aqueducts that used to supply the city before they crumbled into ruin after the fall of Rome. It emptied into a basin that later became the famous Trevi Fountain.

—He had Lorenzo Valla translate Greek histories and literature to make them available to the West.

(He is also known as a supporter of slavery of non-Christians, mentioned here, which later caused controversy among two Christian nations.)

As part of his rebuilding plan, he took 2522 cartloads of marble from the Colosseum, which at that time was used basically as a quarry. The Colosseum has been barely mentioned here, and you might be interested to know what the Middle Ages thought of this great Roman wonder...next time.

The Medieval Slave Trade, part 4

(Parts one, two, and three.)

There are several parables in the New Testament that are set in the context of a slave-master situation. They all are meant to offer a lesson, but that lesson is never that slavery is a bad thing. In Paul's letters, for example, slaves are told to obey their masters, and masters are told to be kinder to their slaves.

In Galatians 3:28, Paul says "There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." In fact, Paul's admonishment is not because he wants the slave treated well; it is because he wants the master to remain pure in the eyes of God. After all, when in Gethsemane Jesus' disciple uses a sword to cut the ear off a slave, Jesus does not restore the ear and heal the slave. Instead, Jesus warns the swordsman about his own fate, that "he who lives by the sword shall die by the sword." Although the slave and the free man are to be considered the same spiritually in God's eyes, the existence of slavery is accepted as a social and cultural norm.

If the slave was Christian, that is. Non-Christians held as slaves by Christians were fair game in the Middle Ages, even as popes discouraged enslavement of co-religionists, as did the leaders of Jews and Muslims. This left Northern European pagans and black-skinned Africans as a source of slaves for all three "people of the book."

Popes such as Nicholas V began to justify slavery to allow the capture and use of Saracens, pagans, and other "enemies of Christ." One justification was the Curse of Ham. Ham, son of Noah, saw his father drunk and naked; Noah cursed Ham's offspring to be a servant of servants for Noah's other descendants. There is no indication that Ham's offspring were cursed with darkened skin, but the Curse of Ham was applied to Africans to explain their difference. (This was also used in 19th century North America to justify the existence of American slavery.)

Even Thomas Aquinas accepted slavery as a part of a world that had been tainted by Original Sin.

Besides justifying slavery, Pope Nicholas V was involved in a lot of other political and cultural facets of the 1400s, and we should take another look at him next time.