Medieval travellers were quite like us

 Our perception of medieval Europe is of a confined world in which people rarely travelled beyond their own locality, and when they did it was for religious reasons. But Paul Oldfield asked us to consider Southern Italy and Sic­ily. Due to its central Mediterranean location, the region began to at­tract more European visitors for three main reasons:

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Firstly various factors converged to boost the popularity of distant pilgrimage. After the crus­ading movement started in 1095, Europe experienced its golden era of devotional trav­el to Jerusalem. Pilgrimage offered the best med­ieval equiv­al­ent of the modern tourist trade, even though some pilgrims travelled not solely for pious motivations eg a crusade might have cloaked political and economic agendas.

Secondly South­ern Italy and Sicily were conquered by bands of Normans who unified a region which had previously been polit­ically frag­ment­ed (eg Greek Christians, Latin Christians, Jews and Mus­lims). By 1130 the Normans had created a powerful new mon­archy which had been domin­at­ed by Muslim sea-power.

Thirdly Europe underwent a cultural renaissance so learn­ed ind­ividuals travelled to seek clas­sical traditions. South­ern Italy and Sicily, with clas­sical history and with a Greek and Islamic past, attracted both an­cient & eastern learning.

The result of these three combined strands saw an influx of visit­ors who could properly be called tour­ists. High numbers of people regularly travelled both short and long distances, and some of this move­ment was driven by modern motivations: renewal, leisure and thrill-seeking.

While the pilgrims were travelling across foreign lands, they were encouraged to imitate Christ, to feel hardship and to focus on salvation. At many shrines en route, pil­g­rims could stay near a holy tomb, to receive cures or divine rev­el­ations. Even pilgrims were exper­ient­ial travellers.

South Italy possessed one of medieval Europe’s more sophist­ic­ated travel infrastruc­tures. Being so close to the heart of the former Roman empire, it still boasted functioning Roman roads which linked into the main route - it brought travel­l­ers from western Europe across the Alps to Rome. Via Appia helped travellers to move across the south Italian Ap­en­nines to the coastal ports of Apulia, while another road went via Calabria towards the bustling Messina port.

South Italian ports hosted fleets of local ships as well as those of the emerging commercial powers of Genoa, Pisa and Venice. So the pilgrim had secure, effic­ient and direct connections. At the same time, new hospitals, inns, bridges and monasteries emerged along It­aly’s main pilgrim routes, or near shrines for foreign vis­it­ors. The major Apulian and Sicilian ports often hosted pilgrim hospit­als belonging to Holy Land military monastic orders, Templars and Hospitallers. Mes­s­ina was a particularly hectic port.

 

Pilgrim badge bought at

shrine at Saint-Josse-sur-Mer, France

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Most of the surviving evidence focuses on elite travellers – nobles and bishops. But travel, and pilgrimage in particular, was also undertaken by the very poorest. Monastic rules out­lined their monks’ duty to offer free hospitality to all trav­ellers. It was also good advertising for shrine centres to be seen to cater for all backgrounds. After all, foreign visit­ors spent money on local serv­ices and on profitable tolls. The guardians of southern Italy’s shrine centres actively competed for travellers.

Many pilgrims suffered from debilitating conditions, and struggled to cope with travelling demands. Many died. One chronicler of the First Crusade saw the drowning of 400 pilgrims in Brindisi harbour but, he said, dying as a pilgrim brought the hope of salvation. Of course threats of robbery, shipwreck and dis­ease remained - no wonder pilgrims travelled in groups. It makes sense that the word travel comes from ancient word travail, meaning hardship.

Southern Italy’s landscape drew wonder and fear. Its seas in the busy Straits of Mess­ina were full of tidal rips. Muslim travellers suffered a near-fatal shipwreck in the Straits in the 1180s. The famous 1280 map, Hereford Mappa Mundi, por­t­rayed two sea monsters lurking in Sicilian waters.

Erupt­ions at Vesuvius and Etna were a regul­ar feature: one struck at Catania Sicily in 1169 killing 15,000 people. The region’s volcanoes had even greater potency, connecting them to Hell’s Entrance and showing God’s disapproval.

In c1170 a Spanish Jewish traveller and author, Benjamin of Tudela, pas­s­ed near Naples and marvelled at the sight of an ancient city submerged just off the coast. Like many travellers, he came there to access cutting-edge medical knowl­ed­ge, a fusion of Arabic and ancient Greek learning that had been a specialty in Salerno.

To prove that travellers had been to the distant city they had aimed for, each would buy a badge to show off back at home. Typically made of lead alloy, the badges were sold as souven­irs at Christian pilgrimage sites and related to the part­ic­ular saint ven­er­ated there. The shrine at Saint-Josse-sur-Mer in France was named after a hermit, St Jos, in a monastery. His hermitage became a popular site for late C14th English pilgrims on the way to more distant shrines.

In the most appealing and popular sites across Europe (Jerusalem in Is­rael, Compost­ela in Spain, Canterbury in Eng­land, Cologne in Germany etc) the badges tended to be standardised eg St Thomas Becket was the most popular sub­ject in Canberbury and a shell was sold most frequently in Compostela.

Hereford Mappa Mundi

map created in 1280.

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Conclusion 
Medieval travellers displayed traits that reflected aspects of our modern understanding of tourism. Southern Italy was an alluring travel hotspot - it had devel­oped travel and serv­ice structures, it catered for those seek­ing spiritual salvat­ion, it provided learning and tested those who sought chall­enges. Those challenges were often sought as ends in them­selves.