Charlemagne’s silver penny

For most of the medieval era, the silver penny was the basic currency in all places. Silver was the most common precious metal; gold was too uncommon until the late medieval, and copper was not precious enough. Silver was precious, but not too much so. Copper and bronze coins were also used, but their value was fixed to the silver penny.

During the early medieval period, Anglo-Saxon and Merovingian kingdoms had poor control over their currency. As described in past entries, weak central government permitted anyone with local power to collect silver coins (including Roman ones) and melt them down to strike new local coins. Charlemagne was the first Germanic ruler with enough power to reform and stabilize currency across a wide area. At his peak, he ruled (directly or through vassals) most of modern France, Benelux, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy.

Charlemagne stipulated that his penny would be called a denarius, obviously following Roman tradition. 240 of them would make a pound (which was probably a little different from the modern pound). Over time, the medieval French silver penny was called a denier (probably rhymed with veneer); it remained the mainstay of the marketplace for many centuries. Interestingly, there was a theoretical coin that was not, apparently, actually minted in his time: the solidus, worth 12 denarii, therefore 20 of them in that same pound. Charlemagne’s solidus was later copied as an Anglo-Norman coin, becoming the shilling in medieval Latin patois. That’s why there are 20 shillings in a pound.

Charlemagne’s pennies were struck with unusually good dies, perhaps because his wide region of rule permitted him to bring in Italian craftsmen who still had some of the old skill. He wanted to control all minting in Aachen, his capital, but the region was just too large. His deniers were minted in Milan, Pavia, Paris, Lyon, Rouen, Maastricht and other cities, in addition to Aachen.

During Charlemagne’s time, and that of his immediate successors, he was able to control the value and quality of the denier. With the break-up of his empire, of course minting again went out of control. The coins during this time were often quite debased with other metals or bad weighing. Even some abbots minted coins.

Posted in Coins and Jewels | Leave a comment

The business of making money

During the Middle Ages, many European rulers rewarded faithful followers not with direct payments of cash or land, but with a royal charter—permission—to take up some sort of regulated business. This way, the monarch didn’t need to pay directly. Instead, the charter allowed its owner to skim fees, fines, and tolls directly from the economy. The most lucrative sort of charter was for minting coins. Kings gave as few of these charters as possible, trying to keep the power of coin minting close to their own capital of administration.

The coin minting business model was simple. A moneyer collected old coins to melt down. He weighed and cut new coins, stamping them with a new die to show when and where each was made. Part of his charter to authorize coins stated that he was allowed to keep some portion of the coin metal back. In collecting 100 old coins, he was not required to issue 100 new ones. Any time coins were re-issued, it was an opportunity to skim the hoard.

Minting coins also included enforcing coin weight standards, so the moneyer could require merchants to have their coins checked. Of course, he charged a fee for this service.

Most charters were issued to noblemen, but there were private moneyers as well. When mints decided how their coins would look, they were creating a competitive product; laws dictated only the value, not the appearance. Among their decisions, they chose what alphabet the coin would use. Overall, nearly all European coins used the Latin alphabet and expressed information about value and date in Latin itself. But sometimes moneyers created coins with Arabic or Greek, either with or in place of Latin. These coins were intended for international use. In some very rare cases, private Jewish moneyers in Poland made some coins with Hebrew lettering.

Corrupt moneyers could debase their currency by diluting pure gold, silver or copper with alloys or by cutting coins smaller. Kings were usually not involved in such actions, but instead tried to maintain a steady coin value. However, in a few cases, kings directly debased the currency on purpose. These experiments showed that royal power was limited in fact, if not in theory, because merchants were not required to take poor coins. Debasing currency sometimes led to riots, as in 14th century Paris.

Creating coins had a naive concreteness in the Middle Ages. When a nation discovered that it had a deposit of gold or silver, it could start creating coins. Silver had long been mined in the Mediterranean area, though it was mixed with lead and copper, so it needed to be refined. New deposits of silver were found in Germany and Bohemia during the medieval period. These regions were newly rich, and they also put a lot of resources into metal-refining technology, which led to the region’s early prominence in chemistry.

Gold came from overseas, as a general rule. Traders brought it from Africa, but most gold came through Constantinople’s trade with the east. Because it had to be brought from afar, gold was not much used for medieval coins. But in the 15th deposits of gold were discovered in Hungary, as well as in Germany and Bohemia. Hungary may have supplied most of Europe’s gold for later medieval coins.

Posted in Coins and Jewels | Leave a comment

Value of coins

Medieval coins were stamped by a round, carved die, but they were defined in value by weight. This meant that sometimes a coin’s stamped round part was not sufficient to make up its value, so the coin had to include some metal outside the stamp. It was a perfect opportunity for a special kind of bank heist: coin shaving.

Copper and silver coins, which were the most common in daily circulation, could be shaved to match the stamped circle. They looked right, but their weight was no longer the correct value. Only a merchant or smith who had a very accurate balance for gold and silver could tell if a coin was still accurate or not.

Then again, supposedly accurate, official coins might have been made wrong. In that case, they could be shaved without changing the value of the coin. And the individual who did the shaving would make a profit at the government’s expense. Very accurate balances were controlled by goldsmith guilds; in medieval Germany, it was specifically illegal for a private person to own one.

Additionally, there was always the problem of purity of metals. Copper and silver could form alloys with tin or lead, while looking much the same. Tin and lead had their uses, but scarcity and value were not among their attributes.

Partly due to these two problems, use of coins in the medieval market was completely unlike ours today. First, we value old coins today; to them, old coins were much less valuable than new ones. Old coins were more likely to be shaved, after all. Newly-minted coins had some indication of the time they were struck; before the Anno Domini year counting system had become widespread, the king’s image placed the coin at least within his reign, and there was probably a number to indicate which year of his reign.

Second, today we take it for granted that a national currency is used within its country of origin. International medieval fairs were more like today’s black markets, where a buyer might offer German marks or US dollars, and the seller can choose which he’ll take. At a medieval fair, currency of all sorts circulated. Big fairs had money traders who managed exchange rates, which at first were just based on people’s preferences.

Strong central governments controlled currency; weak ones did not. In effect, a strong king like Charlemagne only permitted his appointed officials to mint coins, because he had the military power to punish anyone who minted coins without permission. Strong central governments wanted their money to be readily accepted at fairs, so they oversaw coin minting and made sure that pure metals and accurate weights were used.

During the medieval period, much or most of Europe did not have this type of strong government. Any small governing entity could strike coins, as long as it had some metal to make them with. Bishops and counts made coins, as did private moneyers. Every modern European nation, however small, was cut into even smaller portions during the Middle Ages. The Netherlands was divided into at least ten smaller parts, each of which minted coins—including dukes, counts and bishops.

There was a regular cycle of new coins that were shaved and worn down, then collected and remelted, then struck into a slightly newer design and released again. The newest coin from the strongest ruler was your best bet for lasting value. If you accepted a poor coin from a weak ruler, you might find yourself unable to give it away, let alone buy anything with it at a large fair. At a big fair, there might be a hundred competing coins in circulation.

Posted in Coins and Jewels | Leave a comment

Roman coins, Frankish imitations

The story of Europe’s medieval period is really the narrative of how a heavily forested, cold place gradually caught up with the habits and inventions of the Mediterranean cultures, and at last began to pass them. All but the fringes of the region knew from the start what they were trying to catch up with: Rome, with its roads, coins, letters, legions, forts, medicine, and chemistry. The coins of Rome came with the first legions and stayed around for a long time, so from the start, most of Europe used coins.

In the far north, gold and silver were valued only as personal decoration. Precious metals went into finger and arm rings, which were presented to successful fighters. These rings went into heavy locked chests, hoarded for later use in trade, as ransom, or to recycle into rewards for younger warriors. Ordinary trade didn’t use money in the far north, though Roman coins were of interest as trade items. Sometimes, the northerners drilled holes in Roman coins and strung them into necklaces. Mostly they added Roman silver and gold to their hoards. It took a long time for the far north to accept coins as pieces to trade off freely for things like cattle or boats.

In the Frankish heartland of early medieval Europe, Roman coins provided a model to the Merovingian kings. Unfortunately, it was many centuries until Europeans had the metalworking skill to equal Roman coins. Early medieval coins were clumsy, childlike imitations.

Roman and Greek coins were made from blank bronze, silver, or gold disks, called planchets. These disks were heated and struck while hot, so that the metal took a clear impression before cooling. Stamping dies were well-carved, with high relief and precision in their letters and images. When a coin cooled, its impression remained through centuries of handling.

Early Europe tried to imitate the coins, but it seems unlikely that they had the opportunity to learn the technique from Romans. Instead of starting with blank disks, they started with a large sheet of silver. Their stamping dies were made of iron, and the designs and letters had low relief and poor uniformity and accuracy. Letters often came out backwards, and they were hard to read since they had been stamped into the die with cutters made of set shapes like curves, bars and wedges. Images of kingsheads were simple and clumsy compared to Greek and Roman bas-relief art.

Coins from the Dark Ages typically bulged on one side, as the die had tipped a little when being struck with a hammer. Cold silver took little impression from the stamping process, and ordinary handling quickly wore it down. These early coins were often cut irregularly, too. Some of the original sheet of metal sticks out beyond where the stamp struck it.

Here are some samples of Merovingian Frankish coins.

Posted in Coins and Jewels | Leave a comment

Coins and Jewels

I thought I’d start a new short series on medieval coins and jewels. The previous series about containers closed with locked chests and purses, which led me to think about what might go inside them.

 

Posted in Coins and Jewels | Leave a comment

Containers for relics

There’s one last important category of medieval containers. Whereas other containers were defined by being watertight, stout, flexible or portable, containers for relics didn’t need any of these ordinary attributes. Instead, they were designed to contain, share and spread holiness.

Until the modern period, old things were not valued for historical information, and they were often not valued at all. But if they were ancient bits of bone, hair or any other item that had belonged to a holy person, that was a different matter. Historical importance was still irrelevant; our concept of displaying an antique exactly as we found it, or intact behind glass, was not their notion. They believed that the item contained holiness the way ale contained water. The container needed to preserve the relic, whatever it was, from physical decay while allowing worshipers to carry holiness away like a benevolent infection.

Not only that, but the container needed to stress as strongly as possible that the relic was being honored. A leaky barrel might allow ale to dribble away until none was left. A hole in a wallet might let your dinner fall out on the road. But a reliquary that wasn’t sufficiently honoring might suggest to the item’s original owner, now a saint in heaven, that the bone, hair or scrap was better off in another church. It might be stolen, with the saint’s blessing and assistance. Such vanishings were not uncommon!

Reliquaries were ornate, above all. Everything most precious had to be packed into the small space required to contain the relic. Some relics were large, like a skull. Others were extremely small, like a scrap of cloth, hair or bone that had been cut into pieces in order to share the holiness more widely. So some reliquaries were large boxes, while others could be as small as lockets or rings.

Reliquaries were made of the most expensive materials possible to their makers: if wood, then expensive wood, highly carved and covered with gold leaf or jewels. If possible, pure silver or gold, or perhaps carved ivory. Simple local jewels like amber or coral, definitely, but even better, imported jewels like emeralds and rubies.

Reliquaries could be, literally, lockets or rings. It was common for bishops to wear relics this way. Some crowns had relics embedded in them, so as objects, they were reliquaries already. The ancient crown of the Lombards is made of gold, but centered around a thin iron band that was supposedly made from an original nail of Jesus’ cross.

Box-shaped reliquaries were larger, and they were displayed in the cathedral or chapel for pilgrims. Some reliquaries told the story of the saint’s life, even by being shaped like the saint’s head (carved from wood, covered by gold leaf, painted). Scenes from the saint’s life, or miracles worked after the saint’s death, were painted on the sides of a reliquary box.

Reliquaries were reasonably secure containers for their holy items. Some thefts happened when a visiting pilgrim could persuade the keepers to open the reliquary and let him or her see the item. There are stories of desperate measures taken to steal all or part of the relic, including biting it.

As a practical precaution against theft, they often hung reliquaries from a wire running across the ceiling. It was a bit like hanging your hiking food to be safe from bears: the reliquaries had to be high enough that a man on another man’s shoulders couldn’t reach the wire, far enough out from the wall that a climber couldn’t stand on the nearest pillar’s decorations and reach out, and so on. Reliquaries that were not hung thus out of reach were often locked into a crypt with just a small window to allow the holiness to leak through.

 

 

Posted in Containers | Leave a comment

Purses and pockets

Containers must sometimes be portable. While large supplies are kept at home in barrels, jars, and chests, small things need carrying containers for errands and journeys. Medieval containers included little bags to carry things around in; they were generally called purses, a word that carried no gender association at the time. The etymology of the word “purse” seems to draw from several branches of related languages, suggesting that it’s one of the original words for a bag.

There are two more words for the same sort of thing, both with spelling markers for medieval Anglo-Norman-French. A poke was also a type of bag, so a little poke to carry on one’s person was a pocket. Pockets were not sewn into clothing at the time. Wallets were not the square, folded articles we think of; wallets were much like purses, but they implied carrying food provisions.

Most purses were about six inches high. They were typically made of fine leather such as deerskin and goatskin. Heavier leather was too stiff, but cloth tended to fray and wear out faster. Their construction was simple: a bag with a drawstring. Drawstrings could help fasten the purse to one’s belt (girdle). Purses could also be made with a flap covering the rest of the bag.

Wealth, of course, created finer and more decorative purses. Both purses and gloves (a popular accessory) used very fine, rare types of tanned hides. As silk velvet and brocade became more available in the late medieval period, the purses of the wealthy turned away from practical leather, toward all types of silk. A fine lady in the early Renaissance period would carry a velvet purse with silk embroidery and tassels. Probably the saying that you can’t make a sow’s ear into a silk purse originated in this time.

Wallets for carrying food had to be made of heavier leather, and in the late medieval period, shoulder-strap wallets much like messenger bags became popular for men to carry. But the need to stick with tougher leather was no obstacle to conspicuous consumption. Leather could be dyed, tooled, and decorated with silver or brass studs. By the late medieval period, horse harnesses were often covered with silver stars, moons, shields, crosses, and flowers. No doubt wallets for the wealthy had all these and more, plus silk ribbons and tassels.

 

 

Posted in Clothing, Containers | 1 Comment

Locking things up

Very few people needed really serious security in the Middle Ages; those who did lived in castles or kept their valuables in guarded places. Most people needed moderate deterrence to guard things of moderate value. For these situations, the common solution was a locked chest.

Any chest worth putting a lock on was probably large and heavy. In a typical early medieval hall, the only private room was the lord’s, and in that room, a few locked wooden chests kept his valuables. His wife carried the keys on her belt, and she was responsible for paying the servants.

Lock and key technology was not new to the Mediterranean region. In Roman times, iron locks with bronze keys were embedded in doors and caskets. While the iron locks have corroded, the bronze keys can be studied. Roman locks had the basic interior mechanism that needed the correct shape key inserted in order to make it release. They also developed the ward, which bars the wrong key from entering a lock.

We can assume that lock technology continued without interruption in Italy. Locks also appeared very early in northern Europe, even while other iron-based technology was primitive. Blacksmiths made locks at first. As the technology expanded from simple slide locks to rotary spring mechanisms, locksmiths became their own skilled trade.

The favored key for casket locks was a pipe key. The bit (the specially shaped end of a key) had to fit the turning mechanism, but the hollow shank also had to fit a pin, for extra security. Hollow shanks and pins could be made square, hexagonal, or any other non-round shape. Doors usually used solid keys, and sometimes the lock permitted access from both sides of the door, so the same key could lock in or out. Doors in Norman castles typically had dead bolts, which had to be turned a full turn since the key was directly sliding the bolt.

Lock technology always presumed some kind of human guard. Locks might be smashed, as could the chest itself, but this would make noise. Most locks could be picked with skill and determination; they couldn’t really keep thieves out, but they could slow them down. Extra-secure caskets were reinforced with iron bands and had multiple locks. Even if one could be picked, the next ones might be harder or the guard might come on his rounds and catch a thief.

Late medieval lock technology became very complicated and specialized, for those who could afford to pay for custom work. The finest locks had no visible keyhole; the owner of the chest knew where to press a spring that popped a slide back, exposing the hole. The spring, slides, and holes were all concealed with fancy carving or painting, of course. In the best work, there might be several layers of security like this, in addition to a custom-made lock with only one key. Eventually, locks were better than the wooden doors and boxes they guarded.

Posted in Castles, Containers | Leave a comment

Chests and caskets

So far, I’ve been talking about containers for food. But we do need containers for some other things, things that aren’t wet, things we won’t eat or cook. What did they use in medieval Europe to store “stuff” in general?

Let’s look first at what they typically stored. Most homes did not have books, musical instruments, or anything that we’d consider for hobby use. Some middle-class children had a few toys, and adults owned tools for spinning, sewing, gardening, and basic repairs. Some people owned board games or dice. Most people owned no more than two sets of clothing, but some owned more. Most people owned some blankets or winter coats, whether they were thick and adequate or not so much. Shoes were worn until they could not be repaired and then replaced, so shoes were not stored. Candles made of wax or tallow needed to be stored, being made or purchased in bulk.

So the typical medieval home needed to put away some winter gear during the summer, and keep a best coat or dress clean and safe. They needed some places to keep things like candles, things that did not perish but would be used within a few months. Some homes had pillows and extra blankets to store. Wealthy places, such as castles, manors and abbeys, always kept extra bedding for guests, as well as a much greater supply of things like candles. Grand houses that put on feasts needed to keep extra table linen for those occasions. (Middle-class families that might only put on a single wedding feast in their lifetime could rent such things.)

Medieval houses never had built-in storage the way modern homes do. Instead, large chests lined the walls of their chief (or only) rooms. We sometimes use chests like this, often called Hope Chests, but we depend on cardboard boxes and closets much more. In a medieval house, pretty much everything was stored in a chest. In Beowulf, servants take extra pillows and blankets out of chests, turning benches into beds.

Some herbs were known to discourage moths, but the first defense against losing all of your stored wool (or furs, if you were that posh) to worms was weekly cleaning. It was a routine chore to take out wool blankets and clothes and brush them thoroughly. This physically dislodged worms.

Chests must have ranged from very primitive ones made of rough boards to the painted, perhaps gilded, storage boxes of the rich. Not many medieval storage chests have survived, since wood could be repurposed in another generation—and never survived a house fire. Here are two storage chests; the second one is from an English church. (For more images, most of them from late or post-medieval, see this woodworker historical website.)

Most chests were locked. While one chest might hold supplies that the household would need to access frequently, most of them were for long-term holding. Everything had value, even woolen rags, so nothing could be left out to tempt visitors, poor relations or servants. It was even more important to have locks on smaller chests made for holding valuables. Caskets for valuables had to be made of very thick wood and were often reinforced with metal. They had to be too large and heavy to be hustled out under a coat, and too stoutly made to be easily split with a light ax. Getting into a casket without using the key was possible but it was not convenient; it would leave a telltale mess and make noise.

What might be stored in a locked casket? Right away, we’re not talking about working-class homes. Guild officers, merchants and aristocrats needed caskets to keep jewels, money and ceremonial items like silver cups or candlesticks. Aristocratic households whose ladies kept busy with silk embroidery probably kept their silk thread supplies in a locked casket, since it had pretty good street value to tempt thieving servants.

Caskets weren’t owned by the poor, so their construction was often ornate. The most ornate caskets were reliquaries, which I’ll consider separately. But even wooden caskets could be ornately carved. This one, pictured, may have held chess pieces, but it might have been for jewels, money, and any other valuables. Medieval decoration often depicted scenes from daily life: people playing, dancing, sewing, and working. Here is another ornately-carved casket.

next: medieval locks and keys

Posted in Containers | Leave a comment

Bushels and other measures

Baskets, of course, were the cheapest universal carrying container. We still use the standard English basket size that emerged from medieval measuring: the bushel.

Bushels started as the typical size that a merchant could load onto a pack mule. During most of the Middle Ages, Europe’s roads were barely good enough for wheeled vehicles to travel on. Two-wheeled carts could negotiate bad roads more easily than four-wheeled wagons. Horses and mules with packs could navigate any kind of road, including a track going through the hills. So while two-wheeled carts carried most goods in town, pack animals carried most goods out into the countryside and sometimes from town to town.

So the bushel didn’t start out as defined by so many pints, pecks, or pounds. It started out as a bushel: the right size to properly load on a mule’s pannier harness. Of course, merchants who purchased by the bushel wanted to standardize the size. During the medieval period, it was divided into gallons and pints. Each town had its standard bushel, probably made from copper or brass instead of basketweaving. As with other measures, by the end of the period, the king’s office of weights and measures had owned a royal bushel by which the legal volume was determined. When bushels of grain were measured out in the Port of London, the measuring team had leveling rods to make sure each bushel was exactly right, no more. (Merchants carried away the measured goods in their own basket-bushels.)

Four pecks were in a bushel, and so were eight gallons. These, too, had official volume measures in town. Eight bushels, together, made a “quarter,” though I’m not sure what the volume was a quarter of. It probably referred to the size of the two-wheeled cart used to move it around in town. One of the items sold by the quarter was charcoal.

Carts and wagons had standard sizes too, since they could be containers. It’s possible that “quarter” referred to the cart being one-quarter the size of a standard wagon. Wagons always required teams of oxen or horses to pull them. They were used to move the king’s furniture from manor to manor (some kings traveled almost constantly), and they were used for very large loads, like hay. Two-wheeled carts, on the other hand, could be pulled by a laborer or a single animal. Towns were filled with constant cart traffic as nearly every raw material was delivered this way.

I want to touch on measurement by length, although it’s off the subject of containers. The two important length measurements were for land and for cloth. Land was traditionally measured by how much a man with an ox could plow in one day. This measure, the acre, was divided into furlongs, which were envisioned as the strip that the plow made before it had to turn around and go back. It was something less than 1/8 of a modern mile, and the acre was defined as one furlong long, by 4 rods wide—the rod being 1/40th of a furlong. Square acres made no sense to medieval plowmen, since it was much more convenient to turn the ox and plow as seldom as possible.

Cloth measurement was highly local and regional, but since the highest volume of cloth was sold in the international fairs of Champagne, the Champagne measurements gradually became dominant. Even so, the measurements were very different from place to place. In Troyes, a bolt of cloth was 28 ells (the ell was roughly our yard, but it varied a lot). In Ypres, the bolt was only legal if it measured 29 ells. At Provins, they didn’t sell it by bolts at all, but by cords and lengths. A cord was 12 ells, and a length was 12 cords (144 ells).

The Champagne fairs also standardized the foot, since some materials were sold in much shorter lengths. Each fair had an official iron ruler with feet and inches–and the inches were also split into 12, each one called a line. Merchants at the fair were required to have wooden rulers that precisely matched the fair’s standard. (Every fair had its own justice system, too.) When sovereignty over Champagne came to the French crown, the king over-taxed the fairs and killed them entirely. They never got to work out a truly standard measurement of length.

 

Posted in Containers | Leave a comment