While movies and media often paint the Middle Ages as a dark era of quiet villages and muddy battlefields, the reality was radically different. Across Europe, Asia, and the Americas, sprawling medieval megacities thrived, some with over a million residents. To accommodate these vast populations, cities had advanced features such as paved boulevards, public hospitals, and sanitation systems. From hidden jungle megacities in Cambodia to floating island capitals in the Americas, these are ten of the largest cities from the Medieval world in terms of population, land area, and importance.

1. Angkor, Khmer Empire, Cambodia

Angkor was once the jewel of the Khmer Empire in present-day Cambodia. The city in the middle of the jungle was massive, both in land and population. In AD 1100, it was considered the largest city in the world. The metropolis sprawled over 1,000 square kilometers (390 square miles) and housed around one million people.

The only thing remaining from the grand city today is its central temple, Angkor Wat. But the capital city of the Khmer Empire was once a modern urban center, featuring roads as wide as airplane runways, canals, rice farms, the world’s largest hand-cut water reservoir, and an intricate system for utilizing the monsoon season to produce bountiful harvests. The city of Angkor was ruled by god-kings, who were believed to be the earthly incarnations of the Hindu God Shiva. The city’s population flourished, with schools and public hospitals

The “temple city,” as it is called today, was abandoned around the 1400s, due to a variety of factors, including military pressure from the neighboring Ayutthaya Kingdom, in modern-day Thailand, which captured the city in 1431. Climate change, shifts in trade routes, and the widespread adoption of Theravada Buddhism all weakened the city’s location and the power of its kings. Nevertheless, Angkor remains an incredibly popular tourist destination today. However, several conflicts over the past few hundred years have made the excavation and analysis of the site difficult, so archaeological work is still ongoing.

2. Baghdad, Abbasid Caliphate, Iraq

Baghdad, located in modern Iraq, was the capital of the Abbasid Caliphate from the early Middle Ages onwards. Construction began in AD 762, and by the end of the 8th century, the city was already home to half a million residents. It was the political and cultural center of the Middle East during its height, and between the 700s and 900s, approximately one million people lived in Baghdad or its suburbs.

It was constructed as two semi-circles on either side of the Tigris River. It had modern infrastructure including aqueducts and sewage systems, several public squares and gardens, and wide avenues. According to Yaqut, an Arabic scholar who lived a few centuries after the city’s heyday, the city’s avenues were built 40 cubits (60 feet) wide, and the city did not allow garbage or refuse to collect within its walls.

While Baghdad remained important throughout the Middle Ages and into the modern day, the Abbasid Caliphate was not what it once was after the 10th century, and the city declined. Two major attacks occurred during the Middle Ages, one in 1258 and one in 1401. Today, Baghdad is the capital of modern Iraq and is the second-largest city in the Arab world.

3. Gangaikonda Cholapuram, Chola Dynasty, India

The southern Indian city of Gangaikonda Cholapuram, which means the “city of the Chola who conquered the Ganges,” was founded by the emperor Rajendra Chola I in 1025 to commemorate his successful military expedition to the Ganges in North India. He established the city as his new imperial capital, and it thrived for the next 250 years.

The city was meticulously planned around the principles laid out in Tamil Vastu and Agama Sastra sacred texts. The central jewel of the city was the Brihadeeswarar Temple, dedicated to Shiva and renowned for its temple tower, intricate carvings, and impressive sculptures. It housed many treasures from the region conquered by the Chola dynasty. It also had a large artificial lake filled with water from the distant Ganges.

Thanks to Chola patronage, art, culture, and education thrived in the city, which grew to have a population of around one million people. But the city would decline with the declining power of the dynasty and was plundered of most of its riches. However, the Brihadeeswarar Temple continues to be an active center of worship and learning.

4. Constantinople, Byzantine Empire, Turkey

Constantinople served as the great epicenter of several empires. It was founded in AD 330by the Roman Emperor Constantine as the new capital of the Roman Empire, and the city reached its zenith in the early medieval period. The fall of the Western Roman Empire shifted global focus to the Eastern Roman Empire, with its Emperor, Justinian, ruling from Constantinople.

The large city was the capital of the Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman empires, often sitting at a population of around one million and acting as a major trade hub. Constantinople’s unique position straddling Europe and Asia poised the city to become a key player in international affairs and commerce. The Venetians, along with traders and merchants from the Middle and Far East, came to the city to do business.

However, Constantinople faced near-constant challenges, with sieges and battles often threatening to wipe it out. However, the city endured throughout the age of great medieval cities, becoming the capital of the Ottoman Empire in 1453. The city would remain a key player throughout the Middle Ages and into the modern period. Today, Constantinople is known as Istanbul in modern-day Turkey and is still a huge city with strategic importance in the international affairs of both Europe and Asia.

5. Cairo, Fatimid Dynasty, Egypt

Cairo, Egypt, was built in AD 969 by the Fatimid Dynasty to rival Baghdad as the largest city in the Islamic world. It was the capital of the dynasty and served as an example of power and enlightenment in Islam in the Middle Ages.

Cairo is known as “The City of a Thousand Minarets” for good reason. A truly Islamic city, the number is not fabricated, and some claim that there are even more than 1,000 mosques throughout the city. These places of worship, however, also served as places of administration and learning in the medieval city of Cairo. The Al-Hassan Mosque, Cairo’s first, was a center of education where thousands of young Egyptians and foreigners could learn, whether they were rich or poor.

When the city was taken over by the Mamluk Dynasty, mosques also served as hospitals and centers of community. The rulers, who had risen from slavery to power, cared for the lower classes and helped fortify the city as an Islamic stronghold against the Crusades. Cairo was also a key hub of commerce, as it sat at the confluence of European, African, and Asian trade. This position would make Cairo one of the world’s wealthiest medieval cities.

Today, Cairo is still the capital of Egypt and is the largest city in the Arab world. It is a center of Islamic power in Northern Africa, despite several modern conflicts.

6. Hangzhou, China

One of the seven ancient capitals of China, Hangzhou may have been one of the largest cities in the world in the 12th century. With a population of at least one million people and its position at the end of the Grand Canal, Hangzhou thrived as a capital for several Chinese dynasties.

Hangzhou’s location was paramount to its prosperity, as it sat directly within the Silk Road trade network. It flourished as a trading city, with archaeological evidence of products from Hangzhou being found as far away as Iran. It was the capital for both the Wuyue Kingdom and the Southern Song Dynasty. Even when it was not serving as a capital city, the strategic location of Hangzhou made it a powerful city.

Though it was well known for its wealth, Hangzhou was also a great center of Chinese culture, especially as it related to early literature and Buddhism. Its cultural and economic prowess attracted travelers like Marco Polo and Ibn Batuta, who wrote of the city in grandiose terms. Marco Polo declared that it was “without a doubt the finest and most splendid city in the world,” and he marveled at its paved streets and numerous bridges. Polo’s writings elucidate the splendor of Hangzhou in the 13th century, when it was still the largest city in the world.

Hangzhou is still an important economic and cultural center today, with thriving rice and silk production. Though it is no longer a capital, it is still a metropolis with a modern population of at least ten million people.

7. Kaifeng, China

Kaifeng, like Hangzhou, was another of the ancient capitals of China. It thrived during the Northern Song Dynasty of 960 and 1127, when it peaked with a population of around one million people. This was largely thanks to its strategic position connected to the mighty Yellow River, and later the Grand Canal, placing it on one of the country’s most important trade routes.

Kaifeng had an extensive canal system that facilitated transport around the city, and it was chosen as the capital by several other dynasties, including the Later Liang, Later Jin, Later Han, and Later Zhou dynasties. But even when it was not the official imperial capital, it remained a major regional hub in China’s northern plain. Its most striking architectural features were the Iron Pagoda and the Dragon Pavilion.

Like many other economic centers, Kaifeng also developed into a center for art, culture, science, and innovation as it attracted students and intellectuals, which led to it becoming an early hub for the printing industry. Kaifeng also attracted a well-documented Jewish community that brought unique artifacts, foods, and culture to the region.

Kaifeng waned after the fall of the Northern Song Dynasty and the Jurchen invasion in 1127. Today, it retains much of its ancient charm and is a popular tourist destination.

8. Paris, Capetian Kings, France

Still the capital of France today, Paris came out of relative obscurity and developed into the large, cosmopolitan city we know today, beginning in the Middle Ages. In the 10th century, Paris was considered little more than a provincial city that housed a cathedral and not much else. This changed, however, when the Capetian Kings decided to rule France from the Île de la Cité, not only making it the site of their royal palace, but also of the new Notre Dame Cathedral.

Under the Capetians, Paris became a city that was important on three fronts: religious, educational, and commercial. The Left Bank of the Seine was a hub for important French monasteries, as well as several colleges, which, at the time, became the leading educational institutions in Europe. On the Right Bank, the ports, merchants, and markets made the city into a commercial hub. Its prosperity, combined with a focus on religion and education, led to Paris becoming an important center of illuminated manuscripts and the first city to develop buildings in the Gothic style.

We have no concrete idea of the number of people living in Paris before 1328. However, the census of that year counted over 61,000 households within the city, making the population estimate anywhere from 210,000 to 270,000. Though the city faced several hardships, including sieges and the Bubonic plague, it recovered to become one of the most populous cities in the western world during the Middle Ages.

9. Tenochtitlan, Aztec Empire, Mexico

Perhaps the largest city in pre-Columbian America, Tenochtitlan was the capital of the expanding Aztec Empire from the 14th to the 15th century. It was built on an island in the middle of Lake Texcoco and was the site of royal palaces, temples, markets, and other public buildings that served the Aztec people well and contributed to the prosperity of the city and the empire.

The Aztec Empire, from Tenochtitlan, had vast trade networks from the Gulf of Mexico and possibly into the Inca Empire. The population was probably around 200,000 people and was split into complex social classes, the most complex in the Mesoamerican world.

When Spanish conquistadors arrived in the capital, they found a thriving city that was rivaled in population only by Paris or Venice in Europe. The palace of the emperor, Moctezuma II, was a sprawling complex that boasted zoos, botanical gardens, and aquariums. The city was, however, conquered by the Spanish, led by Hernán Cortés, and turned into a municipality of the Viceroyalty of New Spain.

While the city remained under Spanish rule for several hundred years, the capital of Mexico did not move and was built around the medieval capital. Tenochtitlan sits at the historic center of modern-day Mexico City and is still one of the most populous cities in the Americas, with a population of almost ten million people.

10. Venice, Republic of Venice, Italy

Considered by many to be the greatest maritime power of the Middle Ages, Venice began as a safe haven for refugees fleeing from the collapse of the Western Roman Empire. The marshy lagoon would serve as an important strategic location for what would become the Republic of Venice, as its access to the Mediterranean Sea allowed trade on a wider scope than the rest of Europe.

The city-state of Venice began conquering areas within the Eastern Mediterranean while it retained a high level of independence, both in religion and government, from Rome and other powers on the Italian peninsula. Venice was ruled by a doge, or a duke, who served for life and was elected by the Great Council of Venice. It was billed as a republic but was, in practice, ruled by oligarchs of the merchant classes.

The city-state of Venice grew steadily and became a great center of art, architecture, and publishing during the Middle Ages. Its Renaissance, considered to have begun before the general Italian Renaissance, was a direct result of its economic prowess and fostering of the arts in service to the maritime republic. Venice’s power was relatively unchecked until trade routes to the East Indies and the Americas opened in the 16th century, granting other European powers the same ability to foster effective trade as Venice.

Venice was incorporated into a unified Italy in the late 19th century, and though it is still a center of culture within Italy, it is not considered the power that it once was. Venice was a unique and completely maritime-focused power, thanks to its canals, which are now used for the likes of tourist gondola rides and water taxis rather than vast naval fleets.

While many of these medieval megacities eventually fell to ruin, plague, or conquest, their architectural and cultural legacies formed the foundation of the modern world. Would you like to read about some of the biggest and most sophisticated cities from the classical world?

On September 3, 1260, the army of the Egyptian Mamluk Sultanate met a Mongol army bent on conquering all of the Middle East. Both sides expected no mercy, but neither could know how the resulting battle of Ain Jalut would shape history. In the Jezreel Valley, a legendary clash shaped the future of empires and continents.

The Slave Origins of Qutuz and Baybars

Egyptian Sultan Sayf ad-Din Qutuz knew intimately what the arrival of Mongol envoys in Cairo in the summer of 1260 foretold. Qutuz was born in the Central Asian Khwarazm Empire, whose Shah made the deadly mistake of executing Genghis Khan’s envoys, leading to utterly destructive retribution. The Khwarazm empire was annihilated, and the child Qutuz was sold to the Mamluks, the famous slave soldiers of Egypt and Syria.

The Mamluks were the elite soldiers of Sultans and Emirs, supposedly loyal solely to their masters. In practice, the Mamluks had grown in power and influence until, in 1250, Mamluk commander Izz al-Din Aybek seized the Sultanate of Egypt for himself. Qutuz, who seemingly excelled in his training, became one of Aybek’s most senior lieutenants.

Nor was Qutuz the only Mamluk with first-hand knowledge of the Mongols. Many of the Mamluks had come to Egypt’s slave markets as victims of the Mongol conquests, including a Kipchak from the Russian steppe named Baybars al-Bunduqdari.

Baybars had fled Egypt when Aybek slaughtered his commander and much of his regiment during his coup, pledging himself and surviving comrades to An-Nasir Yusuf, Ayyubid Emir of Aleppo and Damascus. During the mid-1250s, Baybars and Yusuf repeatedly clashed with Aybek and, after Aybek died in 1257, his 11-year-old son, Ali, and Ali’s regent (and power behind the throne), Qutuz.

Then, in 1259, a Mongol army stormed into Syria, besieging Aleppo. The Mongols had loomed over the entire region for decades. However, in 1253, as Yusuf, Baybars, and Qutuz undoubtedly knew, a massive Mongol army had stormed into the Middle East, led by Hülegü, brother of the new Great Khan Möngke. By 1258, Hülegü had destroyed the Nizari Ismaili state, better known as the Assassins, and the Abbasid Caliphate.

Why Hülegü’s Mongols Appeared Unstoppable

As Baghdad, the Caliphate’s capital and heart of the Islamic World, lay in ruins, the Mongols turned west to Syria, Mesopotamia, and Egypt. They appeared unstoppable, but appearances can be deceiving.

The previous Mongol Great Khan had brought the empire almost to civil war before his death. Möngke’s ascension and restoration of order took three years of intrigue, a dynastic coup and a purge of the Mongol nobility. The empire survived but remained fragile, so Möngke did what all new Khans did to boost their prestige and strengthen imperial authority: he organized new conquests and military successes. He would campaign in China, while Möngke’s brother Hülegü marched to Northwest Iran to deal with the Assassins.

Hülegü, however, had another objective: reasserting Mongol authority over their subjects and vassals in the Middle East. So, in 1253, while his top general and friend Kitbuqa attacked the Assassins, Hülegü requested men and material aid from all those who had previously acknowledged Mongol suzerainty.

This simultaneously reinforced his army and the empire’s authority and turned any dissenters into justified military targets. Some, including Georgia and Cilician Armenia, complied. Others, like the Abbasid Caliphate, did not.

Whether the dissenters were unable to comply or simply rejected the demand for greater submission, they were all fair game. In Mongol eyes, at least. Hülegü’s army, allegedly the largest Mongol force ever, operated on multiple fronts while rotating garrisons and besieging troops, and organizing recuperation periods after each campaign season, ensuring unending military momentum.

Shifting Alliances Leading up to the Battle

In mid-1259, the Mongol war machine moved against its recalcitrant vassals further west, including none other than Sultan Yusuf in Syria. Yusuf had acknowledged Mongol suzerainty in 1244 but foolishly refused Hülegü’s call for aid. Hence, Hülegü had marched on Aleppo, demanding Yusuf explain himself personally. Yusuf fled to Damascus and from there proposed to Hülegü a joint invasion of Egypt before begging his erstwhile targets for aid when Hülegü refused.

Qutuz successfully convinced his fellow Mamluks that the Mongols would target Egypt after Syria and that only he could handle the threat. Once he became sultan, Qutuz quickly prepared for war, but he did not come to Yusuf’s aid. Nor, as it happened, would Yusuf’s subordinates.

Baybars, disgusted with Yusuf’s failures, abandoned Syria and pledged himself and his forces to Qutuz against the Mongols. Baybars’s old foe gratefully welcomed him, and his old master abandoned hope. Yusuf fled Damascus but fell into Mongol hands in March 1260.

Astonishingly, Hülegü spared Yusuf and pledged to make him viceroy of all Syria, though there would be no doubt who was truly in charge this time. While Qutuz had made his power play and Yusuf’s domain crumbled, the Mongols had fully subjugated everywhere as far south as Gaza.

Egypt now stood alone, the last free nation and last line of defense of a free Islam. At least so Qutuz proclaimed to those of his emirs advising capitulation.

Was There a Religious Element to the Conflict?

Hülegü seems to have been notably pro-Christian during his advances in the Near East. Much of his inner circle, including his wife, mother, and Kitbuqa, were Nestorian Christians. They had successfully lobbied him to spare Christian populations of cities otherwise put to the sword. Christian vassal kings, such as King Hetum of Armenia and Prince Bohemond of the Crusader State of Antioch, were also cherished in the Mongol camp. Many even saw territory they had lost to Muslim neighbors returned, while some converted or derelict Christian sites in cities like Damascus were also restored.

To be clear, Hülegü was not actively pursuing a pro-Christian, anti-Islam campaign. Christians who defied the Mongols were also brutally dealt with. Baron Julian of the Crusader city of Sidon, for example, unwisely raided Mongol territory and killed Kitbuqa’s nephew. Sidon was promptly sacked, and its people massacred in response. Meanwhile, loyal Muslim vassals received rewards, and loyal Islamic advisors were highly regarded by Hülegü. Moreover, Hülegü’s attempts at allying with Christian Europe came to nothing.

Even so, the benefits Christians received from the Mongols helped Qutuz make his case. Moreover, if Egypt fell, there was also no major power left between the Mongols and the Holy Cities of Mecca and Medina. So, in Summer 1260, with religious fervor invigorating even his most hesitant vassals for war, Qutuz responded in the most inflammatory way possible, publicly executing the Mongol envoys.

Did the Death of Möngke Change the Outcome?

Executing Mongol envoys had always spelled doom previously, but recent events gave method to Qutuz’s madness. Some weeks previously, Möngke had suddenly died. The ensuing election of a new Great Khan and dynastic disputes turning into outright civil wars had drawn Hülegü’s attention and most of his army away from Egypt. Qutuz’s timing, whether down to luck or good intelligence, was excellent.

Hülegü had left the Mongol commander Kitbuqa to deal with Qutuz and manage their conquests and had allegedly been reassured by Yusuf that Egypt was militarily weak. Kitbuqa was left with barely a single Tumen, a division of 10,000 Mongols, and a few thousand auxiliaries. He could likely field just around 12,000 men at short notice. Which is all he would get.

Qutuz had gathered a powerful force with his elite Mamluks at the core, supplemented by refugee Syrian forces and lighter Berber and Turcoman troops. Perhaps Yusuf was unaware that Qutuz had built up his forces or deliberately provided bad intelligence. Either way, Qutuz had the advantage in men and momentum and was determined not to let Kitbuqa, whom he called a “raging lion and fire-breathing dragon,” retake the initiative.

In summer 1260, he left Cairo with at least 20,000 men. In another moment of foresight, Qutuz gave command of his vanguard to Baybars, who proved an utterly ferocious and brilliant forward operator. He routed the unprepared Mongol garrison at Gaza and advanced rapidly towards Syria, paving the way for Qutuz and the main army.

Marching to Ain Jalut

Kitbuqa scrambled to respond. Initially planning to reinforce Gaza, he would now have to meet the Mamluks in open battle. He and Qutuz maneuvered for engagement without ceding any advantage. In another moment of fortune, the Mamluks were allowed safe passage through the Crusader state of Acre, which seemingly considered the Mongols a greater threat than their old Islamic foes.

By the end of August, Kitbuqa, knowing the Mamluks were nearby, took up a strong defensive position in the Jezreel valley. On September 3, Baybars and the Mamluk vanguard discovered the Mongols waiting for them at the spring of Ain Jalut near Mount Gilboa.

The Mamluk army was fresh, well-supplied, religiously motivated, and eager to take revenge on the Mongols who had sullied Syria and enslaved many of the Mamluks. By contrast, though Kitbuqa had picked an excellent position, the Mongols were on the defensive and outnumbered. Years of campaigning had honed their fighting skills but also sapped their strength.

Their loyal Georgian and Armenian auxiliaries were greatly reduced in number, while other regional auxiliaries were less reliable. At least two vassal Syrian emirs, for example, either failed to answer Kitbuqa’s summons or defected shortly before or during the battle. Nevertheless, Kitbuqa’s army was still a powerful force, and he was an experienced and very capable commander.

As famous a battle as Ain Jalut is, though, its sequence of events is intriguingly mysterious. Contemporary sources conflict over numerous details, usually only agreeing on the outcome. Meanwhile, new discoveries and analyses of the battle continue to this day.

How the Battle Was Won

The popular narrative goes that Baybars used a false retreat to bait the Mongols into an ambush set by Qutuz with the main force. However, Kitbuqa would not likely have fallen for a tactic that was a staple of the Mongol military handbook. Nor does the terrain in the area necessarily favor such an ambush.

Likewise, claims that the Mamluks were better trained than the Mongols or that the local geography left the Mongol army unable to supply their horses have come under scrutiny. The Mamluks may have had heavier armor, but both armies relied largely on cavalry and horse archers. Furthermore, the Mongols were lifelong warriors, and no evidence suggests they were undersupplied at Ain Jalut.

The battle likely played out as follows: Baybars began skirmishing with the Mongols but pulled back before being overwhelmed, directing Qutuz to the Mongol position. As the full Mamluk force arrived and began deploying, though, Kitbuqa launched a sudden charge which caught them off guard.

The Mongols partially enveloped the Mamluks, possibly breaking their left wing. However, Baybars and Qutuz rallied their troops before Qutuz led a crucial counter charge, allegedly giving the “wa Islamah,” or “Oh, my Islam!”

The fighting bogged down into a close-quarters melee, where the heavier armored Mamluks had a slight edge. Eventually, either the Mamluk left wing regrouped and counterattacked the exposed Mongols, or their superior numbers allowed them to slowly encircle the Mongols in return. This is likely the inspiration for the feigned retreat, not a preplanned ambush but a fortunate recovery from near disaster.

Now outflanked, the Mongols may have also seen one of their wings routed (or, at this point, the disloyal Syrian emir may have defected). The Mongols successfully staged a breakout through the Mamluks, though, and may have looked to rally their own counterattack, had they not suffered one major casualty.

Somewhere in the melee, Kitbuqa was either completely cut off or, believing the situation was hopeless, charged alone into the Mamluks, preferring death over defeat. In either case, Kitbuqa died fighting; stories suggesting he was captured appear to be apocryphal.

How the Battle of Ain Jalut Stopped the Mongol Expansion

The surviving Mongols died where they stood or scattered, hunted by the pursuing Baybars. The victorious Mamluks would go on to retake all of Syria up to the Tigris River and destroy a reinforcing army sent too late by Hülegü.

Still preoccupied with the ascension of a new Khan, Hülegü could only execute the hapless Yusuf for his poor intelligence in response. Ironically, Qutuz would suffer a similar fate, being assassinated in late October 1260 while returning to Cairo. Baybars, mastermind of this ruthless plot, then seized power in Egypt. Qutuz had orchestrated victory at Ain Jalut, but Baybars secured its future, or, more accurately, helped the Mongols secure it for him.

Upon becoming Sultan, Baybars allied with Berke, Hülegü’s cousin and ruler of the part Mongolian territories of the Golden Horde in Russia and Central Asia. Political, dynastic and religious tensions (Berke was a recent Islamic convert) between the cousins had only been kept in check by Möngke’s authority.

After Möngke died, Berke, funded and encouraged by his new Egyptian ally, prepared for a war that not even the newly elected Great Khan, Khubilai, could prevent. In 1262, Berke invaded Hülegü’s Middle Eastern territories, now known as the Ilkhanate, halting Hülegü’s plans to avenge Ain Jalut and forever fracturing Mongol imperial unity.

Thereafter, neither Hülegü nor his descendants would ever sustain a successful incursion into Syria or the Levant, though not for lack of trying. Repeated forays by the Ilkhans were made, with mixed results. Sustained peace only came after the Ilkhans converted to Islam in the early 14th century.

Ain Jalut was not the first loss suffered by the Mongols, but it was one of the earliest major halts to their expansion that they did not subsequently reverse. In many ways, Ain Jalut was more of a psychological blow than a major strategic loss compared to other battles like Baybars’ great victory at Elbistan in 1277. However, Ain Jalut’s ramifications were still hugely significant.

Had the Mamluks lost, or their victory not been total enough, the Mongol impetus may have continued. Though Hülegü’s withdrawal had reduced Mongol momentum and numbers, there was nothing left between Kitbuqa and conquering Egypt should he have won at Ain Jalut. Or if Kitbuqa had survived, he might well have been able to lead a successful counterattack either on the day or sometime later.

The death of Möngke and subsequent civil wars were ultimately the main drivers for the Mongol Empire’s eventual fracture and decline. However, Ain Jalut halted further regional conquests or military momentum. Without delving too much into alternative history, victory at Ain Jalut would have boosted Hülegü and the empire’s drive at its most precarious point. Hülegü’s conflict with Berke, for example, may have gone very differently with Hülegü’s forces and the riches of Syria and Egypt on his side.

As it is, while Ain Jalut did not end Mongol rule or attempts at further conquest, it disrupted their momentum and dimmed their aura of invincibility just enough to tip the balance against them. Qutuz’s depiction of the battle as the final fight in a religious war may have been partially hyperbolic, but his all-or-nothing drive proved unerringly prescient on both sides.

Also known as the Deutscher Orden and the Brothers of the German House of St. Mary in Jerusalem, the Teutonic Order was a key player in the medieval expansion in Eastern Europe. During the Baltic Crusades in Prussia, present-day Latvia and Estonia, and Lithuania, the Teutonic Knights virtually wiped out the pagan population living in these areas, replacing the established authorities with a theocratic state.

Read on to learn more about the Teutonic Order and its role in the Christianization of Europe’s last strongholds of paganism.

From Healing the Crusaders to Waging War

In 1189, the Crusading forces led by Guy of Lusignan were besieging the town of Acre, which was then controlled by Saladin, the sultan of Egypt and Syria. In 1187, Saladin had also conquered the city of Jerusalem, leading to the fall of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, a Crusader state established by the Crusaders in 1099 after the end of the First Crusade.

When news of the fall of Jerusalem reached Europe, Pope Gregory VIII initiated the Third Crusade to restore the city to Christian control. In 1190, during the siege of Acre, a number of German merchants, mostly from Bremen and Lübeck, decided to form a fraternity to care for the sick. A year later, after the Crusaders managed to capture Acre, the fraternity established its headquarters in a hospital in the town, and it became known as the Hospital of St. Mary of the German House in Jerusalem.

Then, in 1198, when the death of Holy Roman Emperor Henry VI of the Hohenstaufen Dynasty led a number of Crusaders to leave the Holy Land, the brotherhood was militarized, becoming a religious order put under both monastic and military rule. The newly formed Teutonic Order (Deutscher Orden) adopted the rules and organizational structure of the Knights of the Hospital of St. John (Hospitallers) and the Templars (named after their headquarters in the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem).

Like these older military groups, the Teutonic Knights were initially founded to protect the Christians living in the Holy Land. Thanks to the support of the Papacy, they soon began to receive extensive privileges and grants of lands, extending their hold in the Kingdom of Jerusalem and Germany. In 1205, Pope Innocent III allowed the members of the Teutonic Order to wear a white habit and mantle adorned with a black cross.

In 1291, the Teutonic Knights left Palestine forever when the Mamluks besieged and conquered Acre, the last Christian stronghold in the region, causing the definitive destruction of the Crusader States. By then, however, they had already shifted the focus of their religious and military efforts in Eastern Europe, where they led the expansion of Christendom into the last areas populated by pagan tribes.

The Violent Conquest of Prussia

In the 13th century, Grand Master Hermann von Salza, who became a confidant of Emperor Frederick II Hohenstaufen, strengthened the Teutonic Order’s authority and territorial possession in Europe with a series of military campaigns. In his chronicle of the order, written in the 1330s, chaplain Nikolaus von Jeroschin praised von Salza, extolling his virtues as a shrewd leader:

Indeed, in 1211, the Teutonic Knights, following King Andrew II of Hungary’s request for assistance against border raids launched by the Cumans, a nomadic Turkic group acting as auxiliary forces for a number of Russian princes, occupied large parts of Transylvania. In 1225, however, after their excessive demands caused conflict with the royal and ecclesiastical authority, the knights were expelled from Hungary.

By then, Hermann von Salza had already secured a new opportunity for the order. Indeed, the Polish Duke Conrad of Mazovia turned to the Teutonic Order for military assistance against the Prussians, a pagan population that lived in tribes in the region between the Vistula and Neman River and spoke a Baltic language. Previous attempts to convert the Prussians to Christianity had been largely unsuccessful, with the local tribes often reacting violently to the missionary efforts.

The Duke of Mazovia assumed the knights would become his vassals after the conquest of the Prussians’ land. However, Hermann von Salza, seeking to avoid an outcome similar to that of the order’s campaign in Hungary, used his personal connection with Emperor Frederick II to obtain the Golden Bull of Rimini. Issued in 1226, the decree confirmed to the Teutonic Order the lands already promised by the duke, as well as any territory the knights may conquer during the Prussian Crusade. The 1226 bull, the de facto legal basis for the Teutonic Order’s settlement in Prussia, was confirmed by the Bull of Rieti, issued by Pope Gregory IX in 1234.

Having obtained legal immunity from imperial and papal authority, the Teutonic Order began its violent conquest and Christianization of Prussia. To secure their hold on the region, the knights built a series of castles and, most importantly, imported German settlers, mainly German peasants, to populate the previously “pagan lands.” In the course of its conquest of Prussia, the Teutonic Order formed the so-called Ordensstaat (Order State), a theocratic state that controlled a vast area spanning from Estonia to present-day Poland.

A Theocratic State of Knights

In the 13th and 14th centuries, the Order State emerged as the dominant authority in the Baltic region, profoundly altering its religious, social, and economic landscape. Besides the crusading spirit and rhetoric underlying the conquest that led to the Christianization of Eastern Europe, political and economic factors were also at play. Indeed, a number of Polish and German nobles backed the Teutonic Order’s campaigns, hoping to extend their territories and strengthen their authority.

After 1263, when the pope released the knights from their vow of poverty, the order quickly established an economic monopoly on the Baltic, collaborating with the Hanseatic League, a trading network formed by German merchants that dominated the trading activity in northern Europe until the 15th century. In 1309, the grand master relocated the order’s headquarters from Venice to Marienburg, an imposing fortress that embodied the power of the Teutonic Knights in Eastern Europe.

By then, the Teutonic Order had incorporated among its ranks the Order of the Brothers of the Sword (also known as Livonian Order), a religious military body founded in 1202 by Albert von Buxhoevden, the bishop of Livonia, an area roughly corresponding to present-day Latvia and Estonia. In the first half of the 13th century, the Sword Brothers launched a ruthless campaign of conquest and conversion in Livonia to Christianize the local Finnic-speaking pagan populations.

Following a crushing defeat in 1236, the pope, dissatisfied with the Livonian Order’s brutal tactics, dissolved it in 1237 and merged it with the Teutonic Order. In the following decades, the Teutonic Knights continued their expansionist exploits in Livonia. In 1242, however, their advance into Eastern Europe suffered a setback after the defeat at the Battle on the Ice at Lake Peipus, where the forces of Alexander Nevsky repelled the crusading knights.

Despite the defeat, the Teutonic Order was ultimately successful in securing its hold on Livonia, thereby extending the territories of the Order State to include Eastern Pomerania, the city of Danzig (present-day Gdańsk, Poland), and extensive lands in central and southern Germany. As a result of the Christianization, most of the pagan tribes were exterminated, and their leaders forced to accept baptism.

The War Against Pagan Lithuania

In the 15th century, the Teutonic Order concentrated its expansionist efforts against the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, a state comprising the territories of Lithuania, present-day Belarus, western Ukraine, and, at its greatest extent, portions of Russia and Poland. In the first half of the 14th century, when the crusading Teutonic Knights were already pressing against their borders, the Lithuanians, at the time still retaining their pagan religion, formed the grand duchy to resist the German threat.

Meanwhile, the Teutonic Knights’ aggressive policy of territorial aggrandizement provoked hostility from the Poles, who especially resented their lack of access to the Baltic Sea, a leading center of European trade. In 1385, Poland formed an alliance with Lithuania (Treaty of Krewo), and the two countries formed a dynastic union, with the Lithuanian grand duke, Jogaila, agreeing to convert to the Catholic faith and marry the Polish queen. Baptized a Roman Catholic the following year, Jogaila was crowned king of Poland with the name Władysław II Jagiełło. Thus, the Teutonic Order lost its religious pretext for the crusading war against Poland and Lithuania.

In 1409, tensions between the Teutons and Lithuania reached a critical point when the Samogitians, inhabitants of a Lithuanian territory previously ceded to the Teutonic Order, rose against the knights. The uprising soon led to a war, with Poland and Lithuania uniting their forces against the Germans. Despite scoring some early victories, the Teutonic Knights suffered a crushing defeat at the Battle of Grunwald (known as the Battle of Tannenberg in Germany).

In the Treaty of Thorn, signed in 1411 in present-day Toruń (Poland), the Teutons had to cede Samogitia to Lithuania and Dobrzyń to Poland.

The Battle That Broke the Teutonic Order

The Battle of Grunwald shifted the power balance in the Baltic region, marking the end of the Teutonic Order’s military and political might. In the following decades, its authority in Eastern Europe saw a rapid decline. In 1454, the Prussians rose against the Order State, petitioning the king of Poland for aid against the knights. In the ensuing Thirteen Years’ War (1454-1466), several vassals of the Teutons joined forces with Poland, and in 1462, the Order lost the Battle of Puck.

According to the terms of the Second Treaty of Thorn (signed in 1466), the Teutonic Knights were forced to give up Eastern Pomerania, the bishopric of Warmia, and their territories along the Vistula River. Additionally, the grand master, while retaining control of eastern Prussia, became a Polish vassal. Finally, membership of the order was opened to the Poles.

Teutonic rule in Prussia would come to an end less than a century later, when Grand Master Albert, influenced by the Protestant movement, became a secular lord under Polish control. In the second half of the 16th century, the Teutonic Order also lost its territories in Livonia and the Low Countries.

The order was ultimately dissolved during the Napoleonic Wars, and Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte distributed its remaining territories to various principalities. Reestablished by the Habsburg emperor in 1834 as an ecclesiastical institution, the Teutonic Order took on charitable and pastoral activities. The order still exists today, and its headquarters are located in Vienna.

The 16th century witnessed the notorious reigns of monarchs like Henry VIII and Ivan the Terrible, who terrorized their nations, expanded their empires, and scandalized their courts with a multitude of tumultuous marriages. Lesser-known are the six (debatably eight) wives of Ivan the Terrible. Each marriage offers a glimpse into the paranoia, opulence, and cruelty of his reign. While his first wife is remembered as his beloved whose death sent him into madness, his other brides met scandalous and tragic ends through poisoning, murder, and imprisonment in the nunneries.

Ivan the Terrible: Madness and Marriage

Ivan the Terrible is remembered as one of the most ruthless tsars in Russian history. First crowned the Grand Prince of Moscow in 1533, Ivan IV Vasilyevich became the first Tsar of Russia in 1547. Over his 50-year reign, Ivan oversaw the creation of Russia’s first standing army, the adoption of the printing press, and vast expansion into Siberia. Yet, his volatile childhood, marred by the death of his mother and violent court politics, instilled a deep-rooted paranoia in him that spiraled into periods of madness throughout his reign.

After bouts of illness, the death of two wives, and military defections, Ivan’s paranoia turned into purges against anyone he suspected of treachery, especially the boyars, members of Russia’s nobility. In 1565, he created the Oprichnina, a secret police force that slaughtered tens of thousands of suspected traitors. Most notoriously, he killed his second son and heir, Ivan Ivanovich, in a fit of rage in 1581. It is believed that Ivan was irate at his daughter-in-law’s apparel and beat her until she miscarried. When Ivan was confronted by his son, he allegedly struck his heir with a staff, causing a fatal head wound.

Ivan the Terrible’s love life and marriages followed a similar pattern. Periods of infatuation and love turned into imprisonment and suspicious deaths.

What began as romantic partnerships turned into an obsession to produce heirs to continue the Rurik Dynasty. In the end, four out of his six confirmed wives died from suspicious causes. However, in most of these cases, Ivan does not appear to be the main culprit behind their deaths. Instead, it appears that having the tsar’s love and favor did little to protect tsarinas from the conspiracies and brutality of the Russian court.

First Wife (1547–1560): Anastasia Romanovna

Out of 1,500 candidates, Ivan selected Anastasia Romanovna from a lower-ranking noble family as his first bride. Most accounts agree that their marriage was one of the most progressive and productive periods of his reign. It is widely accepted that Ivan deeply loved Anastasia and found counsel and peace in her gentle and nurturing disposition. The couple had six children throughout 13 years of marriage. Only two, Ivan and Feodor, survived into adulthood.

In 1560, Anastasia fell ill and passed away at the age of 30. Ivan suffered a nervous and emotional breakdown after her death. Witnesses claim he ripped his hair out, smashed his head onto the floor, and sobbed uncontrollably at her funeral. His grief soon turned into anger and paranoia.

Even though Anastasia had weak health throughout their marriage, he believed that the boyars had poisoned his wife as they did his mother, who also died under similar circumstances. He tortured and executed anyone he suspected of playing a hand in Anastasia’s death. He never recovered from this paranoia towards the boyars.

A toxicology study on Anastasia’s hair in the late 1990s confirmed that the tsarina died from mercury poisoning. However, mercury was often used in early-modern medicine. Researchers have yet to prove whether she was intentionally murdered or accidentally poisoned by the treatments meant to save her.

Anastasia’s influence extended beyond her calming effect on Ivan. After her and Ivan’s son, Feodor I, died on the Russian throne with no heirs in 1598, Russia fell into 15 years of civil war, famine, and invasion. This period ended when Anastasia’s great-nephew, Michael Romanov, was elected to the throne. While Ivan and Anastasia’s son ended the 700-year-old Rurik Dynasty, Anastasia’s royal lineage established the Romanov Dynasty that ruled Russia until the Empire’s collapse in 1917.

Second Wife (1561–1569): Maria Temryukovna

During marriage negotiations with the Polish princess Catherine Jagiellon, Ivan took the 15-year-old pagan Circassian princess Kuchenei as his second wife. Ivan was so enchanted by her beauty upon meeting her that she was quickly baptized and renamed Maria Temryukovna. The pair wed in 1561. They had one son, Vasili Ivanovich, who died a few months after his birth in 1563.

Despite Ivan’s initial infatuation with his teenage bride, Maria developed a nefarious reputation at court. She was accused of being a cruel stepmother to Ivan’s children with the late Anastasia. Her peers claimed she failed to integrate with Muscovite culture due to her illiteracy. Others even denounced Maria as a witch due to her political ambition and confident nature.

Amid these rumors and contempt, Maria suddenly fell ill and died in 1569 at the age of 25. While some accused Ivan of poisoning his bride, he fell into another episode of extreme grief and rage. Countless boyars accused of poisoning his tsarina were arrested, tortured, and executed.

Third Wife (1571): Marfa Sobakina

After the deaths of two wives, a two-year search began to procure a potential bride who could survive the challenges of court. 2,000 brides were considered from across the kingdom. Finalists underwent additional health inspections to ensure they would be healthy and able to produce additional heirs. From this bride show, the young Marfa Sobakina was selected from a merchant family.

After only 15 days of marriage, Marfa fell ill with seizures and died. Most accounts contend that she may have been accidentally poisoned by her own mother. It is believed that Marfa’s mother was supplying her with herbal elixirs that were meant to aid with fertility and childbearing. It is unknown whether she suffered an allergic reaction or if these elixirs contained poisonous herbs.

Either way, her death further heightened Ivan’s paranoia. He accused many of poisoning his new wife and executed over 20 suspected murderers, including Marfa’s own brothers.

Fourth Wife (1572): Anna Koltovskaya

After his brief marriage to Marfa, Ivan took Anna Koltovskaya as his fourth wife. Anna was the second pick behind Marfa during the bride show held the year prior. Their marriage began in controversy. Only three marriages per person were permitted in the Russian Orthodox Church. Ivan rejected this limitation and argued that his marriage to Marfa did not count because they did not consummate the marriage before she died. As such, he married Anna in 1572.

But after two years of marriage, Ivan’s sentiments towards his new wife soured. He disliked her involvement in court politics and blamed her for their inability to conceive a child. Anna became the first of many wives banished to a nunnery once Ivan grew tired of their marriage.

Anna thrived from their separation and embarked on a robust career at the nunnery. She adopted the name Daria after taking her vows and managed the Vvedensky-Tikhvinsky Convent. She protected and restored the convent throughout invasions and economic despair. She evaded the sacking of monasteries during the Russo-Swedish War, survived the Times of Trouble, and later restored her convent through the patronage of Tsar Mikhail Fyodorovich. Anna well outlived her husband and his dynasty, passing away in 1626 at the age of 74 or 75.

Fifth Wife (1575–1576): Anna Vasilchikova

Little is known about Ivan’s fifth wife, Anna Vasilchikova. The pair wed in 1575 without official permission from the Church. Their union was not challenged or questioned due to Ivan’s established notoriety at this point in his reign. They wed in a quiet and modest ceremony. Anna was the daughter of a boyar family.

Ivan grew bored with her modest and painfully shy disposition. Various sources state that Anna became a hermit at the court and spent most of her time hiding in her room. After two years without producing an heir, Anna was dismissed and sent to a convent in 1577. She was imprisoned at the Pokrovsky Monastery, where she died under mysterious circumstances shortly after.

Sixth Wife (1581–1584): Maria Nagaya

Maria is the last confirmed wife of Ivan the Terrible. While their marriage was also not officialized by the Church, the pair welcomed a son, Dmitri Ivanovich, the next year. Ivan’s surviving children took a dislike to their new stepmother. They rejected her legitimacy to the throne and regarded her son as an illegitimate heir. When Ivan died four years into their union in 1584, his son Feodor I immediately exiled Maria and Dmitri to Uglich. A few years later, Dmitri died under mysterious circumstances at the age of nine.

Maria was accused of negligence and held responsible for Dimitri’s death. As punishment, she was imprisoned in a nunnery. But when Feodor died in 1598 with no heir, multiple imposters claimed to be Dmitri to seize the throne. They alleged that they had survived the 1591 assassination attempt and were raised in secret. One imposter named Grigory Otrepyev managed to become tsar from 1605 to 1606. His claim was supported by the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and legitimized by Maria, who claimed that he was her long-lost son.

This lie was uncovered when Dmitry fell out of favor with the Russian boyars for his pro-Polish politics and marriage to a Catholic Polish noblewoman. Shortly after his wedding, a group of boyars and their supporters stormed the Kremlin and brutally murdered the pretender. His remains were burned and then fired in a cannon towards Poland. Maria immediately recanted her statement and swore she was threatened and coerced into supporting Grigory. The pretender’s successor, Tsar Vasily Shuisky, believed her and allowed her to spend her final years undisturbed.

Contested Unions: Wives, Concubines, or Court Myths?

The first debated marriage was the union between Ivan and Vasilisa Melentyeva in 1579. There are no historical records of this marriage, leading many researchers to believe that they were never officially wed. Instead, many believe she was his mistress or that their marriage is an exaggerated court tale to exacerbate Ivan’s cruel reputation.

Regardless of the marriage’s validity, Vasilisa remains one of Ivan’s most famous lovers. Originally the widow of Prince Melentiy Ivanov, Ivan was enchanted by Vasilisa’s beauty, kindness, and gentle demeanor. However, his love for her was shattered when she was caught having an affair. Different stories contend that he forced her to watch the impalement of her lover before Ivan imprisoned her in a nunnery. Other court legends say that she was murdered not long after her arrival at the nunnery.

An additional marriage that most historians doubt was his union with Maria Dolgorukaya in 1580. Some speculate that he took Maria as his seventh wife because she was a direct descendant of Prince Yuri of Kyiv, the mythical founder of Moscow.

Different stories detail that Ivan ordered her drowning shortly after their marriage because he discovered she was not a virgin on their wedding night. Other accounts claim that she was caught having an affair and then executed by drowning for this treachery.

Yet, there is little to no evidence of Maria’s existence, let alone her marriage to Ivan. Instead, these stories of Ivan’s brutal murder of his seventh wife emerged in the 19th century in the works of Mykola Kostomarov.

Only measuring 3 by 1.5 miles, the island of Lindisfarne resides in the tempestuous North Sea off Great Britain’s northeast coast. Remote and craggy, it may at first glance appear to be a forbidding place. Between the 7th and 9th centuries AD, however, the island was a place of retreat and worship for a steadfast Christian community of monks and missionaries. An 8th-century illuminated manuscript produced here, known as the Lindisfarne Gospels, serves as a testament to the devotion and faith of the monks who worshiped at Lindisfarne during this period of the island’s history.

The History of Lindisfarne

Lindisfarne’s history as a major religious center of medieval British Christianity begins with Saint Aidan. Under the leadership of the deeply religious King Oswald of Northumbria, Saint Aidan was commanded to convert the pagan population of this region of England to the Christian faith.

One of Aidan’s most important undertakings under Oswald was to open a monastery at Lindisfarne in the mid-630s AD. There was likely a strategic element to Aidan’s focus on Lindisfarne, as it was not far from Oswald’s royal residence at Bamburgh, making the saint accessible to the king. Aidan himself acquired the title of Bishop of Lindisfarne, and converted the island (which came to include a school as well as a monastery) into a center of religious study and of greater intellectual curiosity.

Lindisfarne became even more renowned through its connections to Saint Cuthbert. The title of Bishop of Lindisfarne remained after Saint Aidan’s death in 651 AD, with a variety of other venerated leaders following after him. However, Saint Cuthbert became the most famous among these, becoming renowned for his commitment to missionary work, his unfailing charity to the needy, and the miracles his faith was believed to have accomplished. So admired was Cuthbert that, towards the end of his life, he was even called out of a period of seclusion as a hermit to resume his post as a bishop.

After his death in 687 AD, Saint Cuthbert continued to draw attention to Lindisfarne. Over ten years after his passing, Cuthbert’s remains, which were interred on the island, were supposedly revealed to be flawlessly maintained. This discovery was perceived as a miracle that resulted in a shrine being dedicated to Cuthbert, with many admirers coming to pay their respects and worship there. He is known today as the patron saint of Northumbria.

Bishop Eadfrith

The creation of the Lindisfarne Gospels was closely intertwined with the bishopric of Lindisfarne. Indeed, according to the colophon, or scribal note, added to the manuscript in the 10th century AD by the priest Aldred, four men are credited with its production, including Aldred himself. The others are Billfrith the Anchorite, credited with creating the book’s cover; Bishop of Lindisfarne Eadfrith, credited with the writing and illustration of the manuscript; and Eadfrith’s successor in the position, Aethilwald, credited with the binding. While all of these figures were instrumental to the book’s creation, it is Eadfrith in particular whose role seems to have led the way for the book’s creation.

Eadfrith became Bishop of Lindisfarne in 698, in the aftermath of the elevation of Saint Cuthbert’s body and Lindisfarne gaining wider recognition as a pilgrimage site. Eadfrith actively promoted Saint Cuthbert’s legacy during his tenure, commissioning an anonymous monk to write the first Life of Saint Cuthbert (c. 705) and encouraging the Venerable Bede to compose his famous prose biography of the saint around 721.

Eadfrith also probably played a major role in the celebration of Saint Cuthbert’s legacy on the island, preserving relics related to the saint and helping to maintain the saint’s shrine. This devotion to Saint Cuthbert seems to have played a role in the creation of the Lindisfarne Gospels, as not only is the text dedicated to God, but also to Saint Cuthbert. In this way, Eadfrith very much seems to have wanted to assert the manuscript’s identity as being shaped by the religious culture of Lindisfarne at the time when it was being written.

The Production of the Lindisfarne Gospels

The process of creating the Lindisfarne Gospels would have been extremely complex. While Eadfrith appears to have led the project, he would have needed help from other monks in the monastery to prepare materials for it and to help keep the process going. For example, the inks and colors used for the manuscript were created from natural materials located across the island of Lindisfarne. Natural elements used included various minerals, clay, soot, and even arsenic.

This task could only have been completed with the cooperation of the numerous monks who resided at the monastery with Eadfrith. Furthermore, the vellum used for the pages of the book would also have required extensive labor. Indeed, it seems likely that around 130 to 150 cattle skins were used to create the pages illustrated by Eadfrith. This assistance would not only have been in terms of labor, but in terms of money as well.

Creating the Lindisfarne Gospels was not only time-consuming, comprising an estimated ten years, but was also exorbitantly expensive. The dedication required from the entire monastery to complete the project demonstrates a commitment to perfecting the manuscript for the sake of monks’ faith, but also for the reputation of the community as well.

For Eadfrith personally, the process of creating the Lindisfarne Gospels would have been intensely spiritual. His approach to creating the illustrations would have varied based on the contents of each page. For example, for some pages, images were created using mathematical tools such as compasses for assistance. Important aspects of an illustration could be created through piercing specific designs into the page for the sake of precision. Other pages, however, seem to have been illustrated mainly by eye, with little to no help from tools. For Eadfrith, this process would have allowed him to put into tangible form his faith and dedication to God.

The Lindisfarne Gospels and the Insular Style

Eadfrith’s dedication to creating the Lindisfarne Gospels is evident on every page. Each of the illustrations that he created is rife with detail, taking readers on a journey rich with ornate scrolls, precise patterns, and dazzling colors. The specific artistic style of the illuminated manuscript can be attributed to the Insular, or Hiberno-Saxon, style of art that was popular during the Middle Ages in Great Britain. This style owes much to the Celtic and Saxon art that had taken root in the British Isles. At the same time, it incorporates elements from other cultures, such as the Byzantine Empire.

This wide range of influences can be strongly felt throughout the different illustrations in the Lindisfarne Gospels. For example, multiple influences can be felt in the carpet pages, the almost purely abstract pages at the beginning of each book of the Gospels. The intricate, detailed designs contained within each rectangle found in these carpet pages easily remind readers of rugs from the Middle East, which may have been circulating in Europe at this time through trade.

The illustration also evokes the detailed precision of Roman mosaics. Roman influences can be seen in the depictions of the disciples, as their garments and curly hair echo common motifs seen in Roman mosaics, sculptures, and illustrations.

Dynamic Celtic imagery also plays a role, with Celtic knots and swirls appearing regularly throughout the pages. This Celtic influence points back to tensions taking place within the Catholic Church at the time of the manuscript’s production. In 664, at the Synod of Whitby, the Northumbrian Catholic Church had decided to administer its teachings in the style of the Roman Church, and cease the Celtic traditions from which many Lindisfarne monks claimed their roots. By continually adorning the Lindisfarne Gospels in such blatantly Celtic imagery, Eadfrith and the monks who assisted him seem to have been searching for a way to elevate Celtic traditions in a sophisticated and reverent way, in spite of the dictates of the Synod.

What Happened to the Lindisfarne Gospels?

While the Lindisfarne Gospels were deeply representative of the culture and history of Lindisfarne, they were ultimately not destined to remain there. In AD 793, Lindisfarne was attacked in a Viking raid, which left many of the monks dead and many of their possessions stolen. As Viking activity continued throughout Britain in the following century, the monks of Lindisfarne eventually decided to move away from the island permanently in AD 875.

After a long bout of unsettled traveling that lasted for years, the monks finally decided to deposit the Lindisfarne Gospels, as well as the remains of Saint Cuthbert, at Durham Cathedral. Following Henry VIII’s Dissolution of the Monasteries in 1539, the manuscript was removed from Durham Priory and preserved in private hands. In the early 17th century, it was acquired by the renowned collector Sir Robert Cotton, whose possessions were donated to the British Museum long after he died. Today, the manuscript resides in the British Library.

The history and production of the Lindisfarne Gospels recount a fascinating narrative. The pages of the manuscript reveal a complex history in which local traditions of religious devotion at Lindisfarne clashed with the dogmas of the wider church. What is also apparent through the study of the manuscript is the deep faith of Eadfrith and the monks who helped him to create the Lindisfarne Gospels.

The process of creating this text was time-consuming and expensive, yet the monks who created it persevered. Their efforts, combined with the later generations of monks who protected it from Viking raids and vandalism, succeeded in creating and preserving one of the most magnificent of all medieval illuminated manuscripts.

Stories about the Vikings often focus on their raids of England and France, their settlement of Iceland and Greenland, and their early trips to the New World. But the Vikings did not overlook the nearby Emerald Isle. The Vikings raided and then occupied much of Ireland for a short but intensive period in the 9th and 10th centuries. While they left a significant archaeological footprint in key strongholds like Dublin, their impact on Irish culture was less pronounced than on English culture. This is because the Norse arrivals were quickly Gaelicized and converted to Christianity, becoming part of the local landscape.

Ireland Before the Vikings

In the 8th century AD, before the Vikings set foot on the Emerald Isle, the local culture was Gaelic, a form of Celtic culture. It felt quite different from Britain, which had been heavily shaped by the Roman presence. Nevertheless, the country was already mostly Christianized, starting under the influence of Saint Patrick in the 5th century AD.

The Irish people mostly lived in small rural communities, and there were also many monastic settlements. These were loosely organized around 150 semi-independent kingdoms, known as Tuatha, ruled by petty kings and chiefs. Fighting and alliance-building were common between the kingdoms, not unlike in the Viking world.

Nevertheless, in the 8th century, Ireland was relatively peaceful and enjoying a Gaelic Golden Age. They were known for their fine artistic work, monumental Ogham inscriptions, and incredible illuminated Latin manuscripts, such as the famous Book of Kells.

Early Viking Raids

The start of Viking raids and influence in England is marked by their attack on the monastery of Lindisfarne in 793, probably carried out by Danish Vikings. Viking interest in Ireland, just a short sail over the Irish Sea for the seaborne raiders, started around the same time. The first recorded Viking raid on Ireland happened in 795. The raiders were probably Norwegian Vikings, who sailed around the Scottish coast and then south to raid the island of Lambay. They are then recorded raiding the coast of Braga in 798, and the coast of Connacht in 807.

Just as in England, these initial raids were mostly small-scale, possibly involving just three or four ships. They launched smash-and-grab attacks, targeting wealthy monasteries, poorly defended and full of riches and literate monks, who would fetch a good price at Moorish and Volga slave markets. These sporadic raids continued for about two decades.

By the 820s, the Vikings brought over many more ships, reportedly 50-100. They established fortified settlements along the Irish coast so that they could winter there and expand their activities. The earliest Viking camps were at Linn Duachaill (modern Annagassan) and Duiblinn (modern Dublin). From these bases, the Vikings could attack further inland, using their shallow ships to sail down rivers considered unnavigable by others. They raided wealthy settlements and then retreated to their seaside forts.

In 836, the Vikings raided the lands to the south around Ui Neill. The following year, they sailed down the Boyne and Liffey rivers in the east and down the Shannon River in the west. In 840, the Vikings spent a year on Lough Neagh, targeting the monasteries of Armagh and Louth. Clonmacnoise, Birr, and Clonfert were pillaged in 845. As a result of these activities, some Irish monks took up arms themselves, while others relocated to the continent, Iceland, and the Faroe Islands.

The Kingdom of Laithlind

The Irish sources refer to a kingdom called Laithlind (or Lochlainn), which was once considered to be in Norway but is now identified as a group of Norwegian settlements in Scotland and on the Isle of Man. This kingdom fed much of the Viking activity in Ireland. Many of the larger actions in the early 9th century are believed to have been part of a coordinated effort to take Ireland for the King of Laithlind, known as Turgesius, or Thorgils in Old Norse.

Thorgils has been variously identified. The Icelandic author Snorri Sturluson claimed he was the son of the first Norwegian king, Harald Fairhair. But Harald lived in the second half of the 9th century, making this chronologically impossible. Based on the testimony of the 12th-century chronicler Saxo Grammaticus, who states Ragnar Lodbrok raided Ireland, others have suggested that this king was Ragnar himself.

While Thorgils’ identity remains unclear, he terrorized Ireland between 832 and 845. He reportedly oversaw the expansion of the Norse fortifications into full settlements, using them as a base to become the master of the northern half of Ireland. Snorri Sturluson says that he ruled this territory from Dublin, which was officially established in 841. The Annals of Ulster imply that his wife was a witch, or volva, casting aspersions on these pagan interlopers.

In 845, Thorgils was captured by the King of Mide, Mael Sechnaill, and drowned in Loch Uair. This was followed by several other Irish victories, culminating in the destruction of Viking Dublin in 849 by the same Mael Sechnaill, who was by then the High King of Ireland. The new King of Laithlind reportedly sent 150 ships in retaliation, which caused chaos across Ireland.

Dark Foreigners: Olaf and Ivar

The Viking dynamic in Ireland reportedly changed in 851 when, according to the Annals of Ulster, the “Dubgenti (dark foreigners) came to Ath Claith, made a great slaughter of the Findgailll (fair foreigners), and plundered the naval encampment, both people and property.” This seems to refer to the arrival of a new group of Vikings in Ireland, moving in to take advantage of the losses of the existing Vikings.

In 853, a new Viking called Amlaib, probably representing the Norse name Olaf, made himself the king of Dublin. Mael Sechnaill tried to negotiate with him in 854, but with no success, as Olaf had already made himself the undisputed leader of all the Norsemen in Ireland. Olaf then reportedly raided throughout England and returned with his two brothers, Imar and Asl, or Ivar and Asl in Old Norse.

Imar has sometimes been identified as Ivar the Boneless, the famous son of Ragnar Lodbrok, who was one of the leaders of the Great Heathen Army in England. Regardless of whether he was really the legendary son of Ragnar, he clearly had a significant influence on the Norse in Ireland. They became known as the Ui Imair, meaning “descendants of Imar/Ivar.” The same name was given to the Vikings in York in England, a city also believed to have been established by Ivar the Boneless.

The following decades saw many battles and alliances between the Vikings and the various Irish kings. Initially, the decentralized nature of Irish politics, with scores of petty kings, may have led the Vikings to believe that they could take Ireland with a strategy of divide and conquer. But because there were so many kings, it was never just a simple case of removing an aristocrat and taking their territory. Every time a leader was killed, another would pop up in their place. Therefore, the Vikings always held pockets of territory, but were never able to carve out a larger kingdom in Ireland.

The Hiberno-Norse

Throughout their time in Ireland, the Vikings intermarried with the local Irish and formed alliances. Archaeological remains suggest that many Viking strongholds were occupied by a Viking elite ruling over a mostly Irish population. As the Vikings in Ireland also began to convert to Christianity, a new Norse-Gaelic or Hiberno-Norse population emerged.

It is telling that when a group of Vikings led by a man called Hingamund was expelled from Ireland in the early 10th century and established themselves at Wirral in northern England, the English sources often refer to them as Irishmen.

Power in Dublin

Thanks to Viking influence, Dublin quickly became an important settlement and trading outpost in Ireland. Control of the city changed hands frequently, shifting among Viking, Irish, and Hiberno-Norse control.

Dublin is one of the most important Norse archaeological sites in Europe. Recent discoveries include the graves of five 9th-century Viking warriors. While the graves are Viking in style, Oxygen isotope analysis reveals that two were from Scandinavia and two from the British Isles, possibly Scotland, reinforcing a connection between early Dublin and the kingdom of Laithlind. These are among 100 Viking graves discovered across Dublin.

The Vikings were forced out of Dublin in 902, only for Viking leaders called Ragnall and Sithric to return with a large fleet and retake the city in 916 following the Battle of Confey. This marked a period of stability that enabled the Vikings to establish additional strongholds, including Waterford, Wexford, Cork, and Limerick.

The Vikings in Ireland may have started to convert to Christianity not long after this, as, while the Vikings are described as actively raiding and slaving, in the 920s, they reportedly “spared the prayer houses… and the sick from destruction.” They were certainly Christian by the time Sithric III Silkbeard minted the first Viking-Irish coins around AD 994, featuring a Christian cross motif.

Brian Boru

A High King of Ireland would later sack Dublin in 944, opening a period of Irish rule. The famous Irish leader Brian Boru then emerged on the scene at the end of the 10th century, first defeating the Norse of Limerick in 977. He apparently killed every man in the village, looted everything of value, and burned Limerick to the ground.

Brian then entered an alliance with the Vikings at Waterford with the intention of attacking Dublin together. Instead, he let the Vikings attack on their own, and they were defeated. This tactic allowed him to weaken most of the leaders in southern Ireland and claim rulership over most of Ireland by 1000. He is considered the first real king of Ireland. He made the Viking leader Sithric Silkbeard ruler of Dublin, but only after he had formally submitted and handed over hostages, and after he had burned Caill Tomair, an oak grove sacred to Thor in Dublin.

In 1012, the Vikings of Dublin would revolt with the help of Sigurd Hlodvirsson, a Viking leader in Orkney, and more Viking allies from the Isle of Man. A great battle was fought on Good Friday in 1014, with the Irish winning a decisive victory. While Brian died in the battle, this put an end to major Viking political domination in Ireland.

Viking Impact on Ireland

The Vikings left a smaller footprint in Ireland than in England. In England, they influenced language and culture, and even dominated politics for a period under the Viking kings of England. In Ireland, the Vikings were quickly Gaelicized, partially explaining their early conversion to Christianity by the end of the 10th century.

Nevertheless, early Viking raids seem to have been a terrifying prospect. A 9th-century monk scribbled in the margin of a manuscript that: “The wind is fierce tonight. It tosses the sea’s white hair. I fear no wild Vikings, sailing the quiet main.” Irish monasteries started to be built with stone towers known as round towers. Access doors to the towers were placed one floor up, so they could only be reached by ladder. Inside the tower, each floor was also accessible only by ladder, allowing the monks to pull up the ladders when they sighted the Vikings.

It was also during the age of the Viking raids that the Irish started replacing their wooden crosses with large stone High Crosses. The suggestion is that they made them big and heavy so that the Vikings could not knock them over or destroy them. Similar, but smaller, elaborate stone crosses emerged in England at the same time, some displaying themes from Norse mythology, such as the famous Gosford Cross. This suggests that these crosses may also have been influenced by the Viking practice of erecting enormous runestones with runic inscriptions and images from mythology. This may suggest one way in which Viking culture left its mark on the Irish landscape.

Medieval castles were much more than towering residences for ruling elites. They were formidable fortresses, administrative centers, and physical expressions of political power. From the stone bastions of Northern Europe to the soaring timber frameworks of Japan’s castles, these eight magnificent strongholds stand today as enduring monuments to human ingenuity, strategic design, and the turbulent history of the medieval era.

1. Edinburgh Castle, Scotland (11th Century)

Edinburgh Castle, sitting high atop the city bearing the same name, started life in the early 11th century when King Malcolm III established the first recorded castle on the site. Future kings would add pieces. King David I added St Margaret’s Chapel in honor of his mother in 1130, and it is the oldest standing building in Edinburgh today. David’s Tower was constructed by David II in the 1370s-1380s following destruction during the Wars of Scottish Independence. In 1510, King James IV added the Great Hall, and in the 1570s, the Half Moon Battery was erected to rebuild the fortress after it was severely damaged in the Lang Siege.

The castle was at the center of many conflicts in Scottish history. During the late 13th and 14th centuries, the fortress changed hands repeatedly between English and Scottish forces. Robert the Bruce then famously ordered the castle’s defenses destroyed so it could not be held by English forces. In the 16th century, the castle was held by loyalists for Mary Queen of Scots, enduring a two-year artillery bombardment that destroyed much of its medieval architecture. She also gave birth to James VI there, who would become King James I of England.

Today Edinburgh Castle is a war memorial and popular tourist destination, welcoming around two million visitors each year.

2. Windsor Castle, England (11th Century)

Nestled in the county of Berkshire, Windsor Castle could be one of the world’s most famous structures. One undisputed fact: Windsor Castle is the oldest inhabited castle. Started by William the Conqueror in the 11th century as part of a ring of defensive castles around London, subsequent rulers made improvements. It was originally a Norman Castle of wooden motte-and-bailey design, but was transformed into heavy stone fortifications under King Henry II and King Edward III, who started to use the castle as an official residence around 1350.

Though not a genuinely Gothic castle, Windsor contains many Gothic features. St George’s Chapel, built in 1348, has flying buttresses, pointed arches, and large stained-glass windows. The Round Tower, in the Castle’s center, was a central defensive point.

The British Royal Family uses Windsor Castle as a weekend residence. It is also the setting for when a citizen receives an award from the Royal Family. The State Apartments house world-famous artwork by Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Rembrandt, and Rubens, alongside armor worn by King Henry VIII.

3. The Alhambra, Spain (12th Century)

Alhambra Castle in Granada, southern Spain, is situated on a hill as an imposing fortress complex. The Moors (Muslim inhabitants of Spain) built the Castle atop Roman ruins in the 12th century. After the Christian Reconquest in 1492, it became a royal place. In 1527, Holy Roman Emperor Charles V commissioned a massive Renaissance-style palace right in the middle of the Islamic Nasrid complex, creating a striking visual contrast between Renaissance and Moorish architecture.

The imposing external fortress structure is juxtaposed with delicate internal design features. Among Alhambra’s features are reflecting pools, fountains, and channels. These embody paradise in Islamic culture. The Court of the Lions has a central fountain braced by a dozen marble lions. The ornate décor, featuring geometric patterns and calligraphy, adorns many of the rooms.

To combat the intense Andalusian heat, Nasrid engineers diverted water from the Darro River over six kilometers away using complex hydraulic channels. Running water, shaded courtyards, and deep basins act as natural evaporative cooling systems throughout the palaces

4. Eltz Castle, Germany (12th Century)

Eltz Castle is hidden in a forested valley above the Moselle River in Germany and has continuously expanded since the twelfth century. It is one of only two German castles among dozens never to have been destroyed and rebuilt. The castle has been held by the Eltz family since at least 1157, making it one of the very few historic estates continuously lived in and preserved by the same lineage for over 800 years. Because it escaped fire and sacking, its interior rooms contain rare 500-year-old original furnishings, armaments, tapestries, and gold artifacts preserved across centuries.

In 1268, three Eltz brothers divided the family inheritance but agreed to share the castle. Different branches of the family built their own separate tower houses and living spaces on the rock, resulting in the castle’s unique, multi-turreted “fairytale” skyline. Today, Eltz Castle is known for blending Gothic, Baroque, and Romanesque architecture. Boasting eight 35-meter-high towers and timber frames, this Castle makes for an unusual sight. Set amidst a natural preserve, visitors get a medieval castle’s full look with no modern structures around.

5. Himeji Castle, Japan (14th Century)

Japan, with its iconic militaristic samurai heritage, is no stranger to castles. With 100 remaining from feudal times, Himeji Castle’s construction began in 1333 and expanded massively in the 17th century. But of surviving Japanese castles, only 12 retain their historic wooden central keeps. Himeji is the largest, most complete, and best preserved of these 12 original castles. Due to the plaster-covered walls and its soaring roofs, Himeji is nicknamed “White Heron Castle,” as it looks like a soaring white bird.

Like many fortresses, Himeji Castle is a hilltop fort. Unlike European castles built of stone, timber framing provides the backbone. Thick, wooden walls, plastered in white paint, give Himeji its bright appearance. The base is stone, like most Japanese castles. Castle defenses are very intimidating to any attacker. Himeji’s defenses take on unusual parts, like a maze-like pathway to slow or confuse attackers. A more brutal defense is the stone drop windows or ishi-otoshi; defenders dropped rocks onto their besiegers’ heads. But while it was designed for war, the castle has never been attacked.

6. Malbork Castle, Poland (13th Century)

Malbork Castle started life as the Teutonic Knights’ headquarters in Malbork, Poland. These German Roman Catholic knights ruled much of Europe at the time, and originally named the castle Marienburg, in honor of the Virgin Mary. In 1309, Grand Master Siegfried von Feuchtwangen moved the headquarters of the entire Teutonic Order from Venice to Malbork, transforming the fortress into the administrative and military capital of their Baltic state.

Red bricks were characteristic of Teutonic buildings due to a lack of stone. The castle is estimated to comprise between 30 and 50 million handmade bricks. Construction began in 1274, with the final parts added by 1406. By then, Malbork Castle covered an impressive 44 acres or 143,591 square meters. It includes three tiers. The High Castle is the oldest and most heavily fortified section, housing the convent, chapter house, and Church of St Mary. The Middle Castle has the Grand Master’s Palace and vast banquet halls for receiving Europe’s nobility. The Low Castle is home to the armories, stables, granaries, breweries, and other day-to-day essentials.

The Teutonic Order lost the Castle in 1410 when it fell into the hands of mercenaries. Poland purchased the castle from them in 1457 during the Thirteen Years’ War. Over time and due to neglect, Malbork had fallen into disrepair by the 1940s, and then more than half the castle was destroyed in World War II. A thorough post-war effort restored the Castle to its initial appearance. Today, it serves as a museum.

Established in 1119 after the First Crusade, which was a military expedition to recover the Holy Land of the Levant from Muslim control, the Knights Templar began as a group of warriors resolute in protecting pilgrims heading to Jerusalem. 

By 1300, the Order had grown to become one of the most powerful religious organizations in Europe and the Middle East. However, King Philip IV of France, also known as Philip the Fair (Philippe le Bel), destroyed the medieval Catholic military order.

How the Knights Templar Built a Powerful Transnational Banking System

The Templars’ immense power in Europe came from several sources. One of them was their nearly 1,000 commanderies, which were rural estates and centers used to transfer money across Europe and the Mediterranean. The centers provided financial services through an early transnational banking system. Depositors could leave their money with a Templar center in one country and draw the currency in another center using a letter of credit, which acted as a form of secure transfer. 

Because of this, the Order accumulated a lot of wealth within a very short period of time. Their power and influence also grew rapidly due to being granted complete papal immunity from local laws and taxes, essentially operating as a privileged institution where they answered only to the pope.

Why Financial Crises Forced King Philip IV to Target the Templars

When King Philip IV of France inherited the throne in 1285, he had grand ambitions of turning France into a powerful centralized monarchy where the king held total control. However, he assumed power at a time when the nation was facing severe financial difficulties. 

Unfortunately, from 1294 to 1303, he waged war against England as well as the rebellious County of Flanders. To be able to pay for these wars, Philip started to reduce the amount of silver in French coins, a process called debasement that made the currency lose its value. 

The desperation led to a severe cash shortage by the summer, which prompted Philip to expel the Jews from the royal domain in July 1306 in a bid to take their wealth. Their properties were confiscated, and all debts owed to them by French citizens were collected by the Crown. However, Philip was still left in massive debt to the Knights Templar. Serving in roles related to royal finances up until this point, the Templars had managed many of Philip’s treasury operations and were now holding the receipts for the massive loans that he owed.

How King Philip IV Executed the Mass Arrest of the Knights Templar

It is estimated that by November 1306, the debt to the Templars had reached the equivalent of 8 tonnes of silver, or about 17 percent of annual government revenue at the time. Even with the alternative of paying them back, King Philip would have still faced challenges settling his financial obligations because the royal treasury was almost bankrupt. 

Soon, Philip realized that if he accused the Knights Templar of heresy and seized their land, he could both erase his debt and obtain more wealth. Heresy was a serious offense, as when a man denied his savior, he was likely to face prosecution. And so Philip claimed that the Order engaged in idol worship, corruption, secret rituals, and denying Christ, among other accusations. 

And so on Sept. 14, 1307, sealed letters were dispatched to royal administrators throughout France, ordering all officials to detain every Templar in France before dawn on October 13 and hand them over to the Inquisition. Templars were arrested in their beds before they could gather their things or defend themselves. Grand Master Jacques de Molay, the supreme leader of the Knights Templar, was arrested at the Temple, effectively disrupting the top line of command.

Why Pope Clement V Officially Dissolved the Knights Templar

Pope Clement V was cautious and began to look deeper into the truth of these charges, but faced pressure and eventually conceded, ordering all Templars to confess. Unfortunately, many Templars had already been physically tortured and forced to “confess” as well. 

On March 22, 1312, Clement V released Vox in excelso, a public decree from the pope that suppressed the Knights Templar. It was made at the request of Philip IV of France. Another decree, Ad providam, also transferred Templar property to the rival group, the Knights Hospitaller. Following the declarations, the Knights Hospitaller received the bulk of the Templars’ property, though Philip managed to extract significant wealth to cover government expenditure.

The Vikings believed that every person’s fate – Urdr in Old Norse or Wyrd in Old English — was established at birth, when their life string was cut to measure by one of the Norns, the Norse Fates. Even the gods were subject to destiny, which is why they cannot escape their ultimate destruction as foretold in the Ragnarök prophecy. While some moments in time, such as a person’s death, could not be changed, Norse magic worked by pulling on the strings of fate to force change. Viking witches, called Völva, achieved this using Seidr magic, which saw them take on the role of Norns to both see and shape the future.

Who Are the Norns Who Spin Fate in the Norse Cosmos?

Just as Greek religion had goddesses of fate known as the Moirai, Norse mythology had similar goddesses, the Norns. While what we know about these female divinities is fragmentary, they seem to have been much more powerful than their classical counterparts.

There were many Norns, and each race of beings in Norse cosmology – the gods, giants, elves, dwarves, and mankind – had their own Norns. According to the description in the Fáfnismál (13), this quantity is necessary as the Norns must be present at all births. They are said to arrive at birth and cut the life thread of the new soul, which they then spin into the greater tapestry of destiny (Helgakviða Hundingsbana I 2-4).

But in addition to these many Norns, there were three principal Norns. These sisters live at the Well of Urdr (Well of Fate) at the base of the world tree Yggdrasil, where they control fate. They are sometimes described as weaving fate on a loom, and at other times writing it into the bark of Yggdrasil with the runes (Völuspá 20). It is also said that the runes are inscribed on their fingernails (Sigrdrífumál). It is said that they water from the well to nourish the Yggdrasil and prevent it from rotting, suggesting that the backbone of the universe is also the backbone of destiny.

These three Norns are probably responsible for the broader destiny of the Norse cosmos rather than individual destiny, and interestingly, they are described as jotun (giants) rather than gods (Völuspá 8). Their arrival at the Well of Urdr is described as ending an earlier era of peace for the gods.

These three sister-Norns are individually named. The eldest is Urdr, which means “what once was.” The term is used interchangeably for fate and death, suggesting that death was considered the ultimate fate. The middle sister is Verdandi, meaning “coming into being,” and therefore the present. The term can also mean birthing, suggesting a link between birth and the start of one’s fate. The youngest sister is Skuld, “that which shall be.” Her name is also a word for debt, carrying the connotation that a person is answerable for their future.

The Norse Soul & Why Fate is Inescapable in the Viking Mindset

Descriptions of fate and the Norns suggest that destiny was considered pre-determined and inescapable in the Viking mindset. The moment of death was considered fixed and was often referred to as the judgment of the Norns. The Vikings also sometimes blamed fate for other things. For example, in theHelgakviða Hundingsbana II, Helgi blames the Norns for the fact that he must kill Sigrun’s father and brother to be able to marry her.

Moreover, while an individual’s life string was cut at their birth, the path of their destiny already began to be formed before they were born. This relates to the idea of the Norse soul, elements of which were inheritable. There were four elements to the Norse soul according to folklorist Groenbech: the Hamr (shape or skin), Hugr (mind or personality), Hamingja (luck or fortune), and Fylgja (follower). The last two were more important to a person’s fate.

The Hamingja was a person’s luck, which was not random, but was something tangible that could greatly influence their success in life, almost like the favor of the gods. It could also be strengthened, weakened, inherited, or even transferred to other people. One’s actions, positive or negative, could influence their Hamingja. In Njáls saga, Njal has a strong Hamingja, which is why he is wise and commands respect, but it is affected by the course of events recounted in the saga. The sagas also make it clear that the Hamingja is, at least in part, inherited. This is why the sagas almost always begin with an account of the great deeds of the ancestors of the hero, as they are highly relevant to the hero’s story.

Even more important to destiny is the Fylgja, which is a personal spirit that accompanies someone throughout life. They are sometimes described as taking animal form, which can reflect the character of the person. However, they were even more often described in a human female who sometimes appears to warn about the future. In Njáls saga, the Fylgja often manifests in dreams or visions to provide warnings. For example, a Fylgja warns that a house will burn down. In Egils saga, Egil encounters his daughter’s Fylgja, described as a large, grim-looking woman, which is an omen of her impending death. In these descriptions, the Fylgja seem like personalized Norns.

Seidr Magic Could Change Fate in the Norse World

In the Reginsmal, the dwarf Advari, who is robbed of all his treasure by trickster Loki, blames fate for this cruel predicament. He then curses a precious ring stolen by Loki to bring ruin to whoever owns it. With this curse, he is influencing someone else’s fate, reflecting the Norse belief that magic worked by changing destiny.

While we usually refer to Norse magic under the umbrella term of Seidr, there were several different types of magic in the Norse world. Perhaps the best-known today is rune magic. According to mythology, Odin hung himself from Yggdrasil for nine days and nights, pierced by his own spear. Staring into the depths of the tree, he learned the secrets of the magical runes, which he then shared with mankind (Hávamál 139-140).

The implication, although not specifically stated, is that he was staring down into the Well of Destiny, where the Norns use the runes. This connects rune magic with changing destiny. Rune magic is often mentioned in the sagas and is usually associated with educated men. A few examples of what appear to be magical runic inscriptions and marks also survive.

These should not be confused with the galdrastafir runic staves found in Icelandic grimoires, which date to much later and clearly show the influence of Christian magical traditions. However, it is noteworthy that the galdrastafir include very few healing runes, perhaps reflecting Norse ideas about destiny and death.

Volva Witches as Spinners of Destiny in Viking Belief

In contrast, Seidr magic is specifically associated with women. According to Norse mythology, the Vanir goddess Freyja was a master of Seidr magic. When she moved to Aesir as a hostage following the Aesir-Vanir War, she taught Seidr to Odin. This was considered unusual, and in the Lokasenna, Loki even makes fun of Odin for learning such a feminine art. This taboo does not seem to have bothered the leader of the Aesir gods, who would famously do anything for knowledge, even plucking out his own eye for a drink from the Well of Wisdom.

In the human world, Seidr magic was almost exclusively the domain of women, specifically witches called Völva. This name means “wand-wed,” referring to the distaff wands used in spinning. This makes Seidr both a feminine art and links it back to the Norns, who spun fate. Nevertheless, most Seidr rituals also seem to have involved singing magical enchantments. In one story, Thor gets a rock stuck in his head, and he visits the Völva Groa, who sings a magical enchantment, or galdr, as part of a healing ritual (Skáldskaparmál).

In the human world, Völva lived outside normal society as independent women. However, they would visit towns and farmsteads offering their services. They were always welcomed and treated with the utmost respect. For example, in the Saga of Erik the Red, we meet a Völva named Thorbjorg who traveled around Greenland. Her clothing and possessions are described in detail, allowing the woman buried at Frykat in Oland, Denmark, to be identified as a Völva. Among other things, she was buried with a distaff.

In Erik’s hall, Thorbjorg is treated with great respect. She was served a special dinner of goat’s milk and an assortment of animal hearts, and she is allowed to speak with whomever she pleases, regardless of social rank. While this is special treatment, it also marks her out as “other.”

To do her work, the Völva is escorted to a special high seat which has been made comfortable for her with goose-down pillows. She needs a chorus of women to function as her backup singers. They will sing the galdr that will allow her to reach the state of ecstasy to work her magic. In the story, there are no women in the area who know the chant except for a young woman called Gudrid, who learned them from her mother. But she is now a Christian and does not want to participate. In the end, she is convinced.

The Völuspá and the Inescapable Destiny of the Gods

While the Völva are associated with various types of magic, they are principally considered seeresses and therefore can provide information about someone’s fate or destiny. This, combined with their strong association with the distaff, suggests a strong connection with the Norns. Spells conducted to raise storms or create love could be seen as changing fate, therefore giving the Völva access to the power of the Norns.

But while magic, whether it be rune magic of Seidr, could impact some aspects of destiny, other aspects, such as the moment of someone’s death, seem to have been seen as fixed points that could not be moved.

Nowhere is this clearer than in the Ragnarök prophecy, which is the prophecy that describes the Norse apocalypse and the deaths of most of the gods. It is recounted in the Völuspá, which means prophecy of the Völva. To learn about fate, Odin uses his magic to speak with a dead Völva, who is explicitly described as being a giantess. She describes herself as being born before the gods and remembering the universe when it was still unformed. She tells Odin the history of existence, starting with creation, current events, and then the future in the form of the Ragnarök prophecy.

The implication of Odin’s interaction with the seeress is that Ragnarök is a fixed point in destiny that cannot be changed. But the story also honors the bravery of the gods who will fight with honor despite knowing the end is inevitable, because that is the only way to face fate.

The Web of Wyrd as a Symbol of Norse Fate

The Web of Wyrd (the Old English version of Urdr), a symbol of nine interlocking lines forming a woven web, is often referred to as the Norse symbol of fate. Some people say that all the Younger Futhark runes can be traced within it. While it is a compelling symbol, it does not belong to the Viking age, and no examples of the symbol survive from that time. It comes from modern occultism.

The earliest known depiction of the Web of Wyrd, also sometimes called Skuld’s Net, dates is in a 1993 text by the German occultist Jan Fries called Helrunar: A Manual of Rune Magick. He does not name the symbol or describe its purpose. He may have come across the symbol in his engagement with 19th century ritual magic groups. He was influenced by Aleister Crowley’s Ordo Templi Orientis.

It was first called a web by author Graham Butcher in 1995 in Stav: The Fighting System of Northern Europe. He specifically says that it represents the unseen web that holds existence together. It became the Web of Wyrd later, but it is unclear who coined the term. It seems to have been borrowed from a fictional work by Brian Bates from 1983 The Web of Wyrd: Tales of an Anglo-Saxon Sorcerer. Nevertheless, the symbol has become popular in modern occultism, linked to both Norse and Anglo-Saxon traditions.

Otto the Great bequeathed a daunting legacy to his successors, but also the potential to build a great empire in the heart of Latin Christendom. This article will explore how the Ottonian Dynasty, the successors to the kingship of East Francia and the Holy Roman Empire, fared…

The Legacy of Otto the Great

The Ottonian Dynasty was founded under Henry I, King of East Francia, a formidable and effective ruler. However, it takes its name from his son Otto I, whose 37-year reign saw an epic triumph over the Hungarians at the Battle of Lechfeld and an imperial coronation in Rome, earning him the sobriquet “the Great.”

Whilst dynastic succession was beginning to entrench itself in the kingdom of East Francia, it is important to remember that the imperial title was not something that could be easily passed from one ruler to another. The last emperor before Otto had been from a completely different dynasty, the Carolingians, and had died 38 years before Otto’s coronation. The title of emperor was thus something that had to be fought for and was a struggle to maintain. This was an important theme for the later Ottonian rulers.

Otto himself had to fight for many years to gain effective control over Italy, and this allowed him to grant his son the imperial title in 967. Otto had his son crowned as co-emperor whilst he was still alive in order to guarantee his son’s imperial authority. Otto deployed the same tactic with the East Frankish crown, coronating his son as co-king in 961.

Otto II: The Successor

On the death of his father, Otto II was 18 years old. He was well educated; his education had been closely supervised by his mother, Adelheid. Though the fact of Otto’s succession had been clear for many years, he was still formally elected as king by the nobility of East Francia in May 973.

The death of Otto the Great left his wife, the Empress Adelheid of Italy, in a powerful position at court. Indeed, Otto II’s reign would be dominated in many ways by the two women who were closest to him: his mother Adelheid and his wife, the Empress Theophanu, a Byzantine princess. Theophanu was the niece of the Byzantine Emperor John I. She was well-liked by Otto the Great, who ensured she was crowned as co-empress in Rome in 972. She would clash fiercely with Queen Adelheid, who possessed great power in Italy and Burgundy.

Otto faced dynastic issues early in his reign. Bavaria had been ruled since 947 by a branch of the Ottonian Dynasty, the scion of whom was Henry, the rebellious brother of Otto the Great. Henry had passed his duchy to his son, also called Henry, who took after his father in being a restless and disruptive family member. In late 973, Henry demanded to be named Duke of Swabia after the death of the childless duke. Otto refused, naming another family member instead. Henry was incensed and began to conspire with the Duke of Poland against the King.

Whilst Otto I had shown leniency when dealing with quarrelsome relations, Otto II arrested Duke Henry as soon as he heard of the plotting. Henry’s escape in 976 precipitated armed rebellion in the southern duchies of Bavaria and Swabia.

Henry also managed to inflame some disturbances within Saxony itself. Though Saxony was the home of the Ottonian Dynasty, many Saxon nobles had long been discontented with the Italianization of the Ottonians. Otto the Great had spent many years of his reign in Italy, and Otto II himself had spent more of his upbringing in Italy than in Germany.

Otto II eventually put down the revolt. He then deposed Henry and totally reorganized the southern duchies of his realm. In his decisive defeat of the rebels, Otto showed a greater decisiveness and power than even his father had during the many revolts in his reign. Yet Otto’s decisiveness made him enemies, and this was not lost on the King of France.

The territory of Lorraine straddled the border of modern-day France and Germany, and, just as in the 20th century, it was claimed by the rulers of France and Germany alike. Sensing discontent with Otto’s harsh rule, King Lothair launched an invasion of the territory, marching his army as far as Charlemagne’s imperial capital of Aachen, sacking the city. Otto and Theophanu had to escape the city to avoid being captured.

The King of France at this period controlled only a small area of territory around Paris, and was a relatively inconsequential ruler next to the emperor. Otto was thus deeply embarrassed by the episode at Aachen and took revenge by launching a raid deep into France and pillaging the countryside. Otto failed to capture any towns or bring any West Francian vassals to his side, and his baggage train was captured by Lothair on his way back into East Francia. A peace was signed between the two rulers in 980.

Otto had brought stability to his western border. But the days of Otto the Great, when the king of West Francia was subordinate to the eastern emperor, were at an end, and the French rulers began to see themselves as equals to their eastern rivals.

After this treaty, Otto began to focus his attention on Italy. With typical directness and energy, Otto and Theophanu marched into Rome in 981 in order to defend the pope against the encroachments of rival noble families. On this trip, Otto, Theophanu, and Adelheid reconciled and celebrated Christmas together.

However, the recklessness of Otto II became evident in his policy towards southern Italy. Whilst his father had forged and maintained a careful alliance with the Byzantines south of Rome, Otto II was determined to control the entire peninsula. He was influenced in this by Theophanu, who was hostile to the Imperial dynasty that had assassinated her uncle John I.

Otto’s assault against the Byzantine holdings was successful, capturing the Duchy of Salerno. But he also had to contend with the other power with influence in southern Italy, which was the Fatimid Caliphate, operating from the island of Sicily. Otto suffered a severe defeat at the hands of Fatimid forces in July 982, having to flee on a ship to escape the battle.

Otto was determined to renew his efforts, yet in the spring of 983, he received news from Germany of an enormous Slav revolt east of the Elbe and an attack by the Danes from the north.

There was an even greater danger to Otto lurking in Rome itself: the ever-present threat of disease, which the city was unusually prone to due to the swamps that surrounded it. In December of 983, Otto II succumbed to malaria and died at the age of 28.

Otto III: Imperial Renovation

Like Otto II, Otto III had been crowned as king whilst his father was still alive. In fact, he had been crowned in Aachen in the same month that Otto II perished in Rome. However, whilst Otto II was 18 upon his accession to sole rulership, Otto III was a boy of just three. This meant that the boy-king required a regency to rule on his behalf. The nobles of East Francia decided that Otto’s closest male relative should become his guardian. Whilst this was a conventional decision, it is made more remarkable by the fact that Otto’s closest male relative was Henry, the former Duke of Bavaria, who had rebelled against Otto II and spent the previous decade in captivity.

Otto’s mother, Theophanu, was seemingly a better choice for the guardianship of her son, yet the German nobles viewed her with suspicion as an outsider, and with a Slav revolt on the eastern frontier, they were eager for a proven warrior to take command of the realm. However, Henry was determined to claim the throne for himself, and after taking possession of the young Otto, he set about drumming up support for his own claim.

Theophanu had not given up her claim to the regency, and after leaving Rome, she gathered support amongst many nobles in southern Germany. Seeing his support fading away and not wanting to risk civil war, Henry relinquished the infant king to the charge of Theophanu, who now became regent of the realm.

Theophanu skillfully navigated the crises on the borders, forging peace with the rulers of Bohemia, Poland, and West Francia and restoring order to the northern border. Theophanu’s leadership, continued after her death by Otto’s grandmother Adelheid (the great survivor of the Ottonian dynasty), ensured that Otto III would come into his realm with his authority in East Francia and Italy mostly undiminished, despite losses on the Eastern border after the Slav revolt of 983. Otto’s coming of age in 994 saw the end of Adelheid’s involvement in high politics.

Otto assumed royal power at an assembly at Sohlingen in September 994. Right away, he demonstrated vaulting ambition and a flair for the dramatic. He announced his intention to march on Rome and demand the imperial crown (Otto II had not crowned his son as emperor during his lifetime) and stated his intention to marry a Byzantine princess. The young Otto was highly educated, and contemporary sources depict him as a compelling and fascinating personality.

In 995, Pope John XV appealed to the young king for help against his many enemies in Italy, and Otto seized this opportunity to march south in 996. The pope died before Otto arrived in Italy, thus presenting him with the opportunity to appoint the next pontiff. Otto caused shock by appointing his cousin Bruno, a 24-year-old German and close adviser to the king, to the holy see.

A few days later, the new Pope Gregory V crowned Otto III as emperor in Rome. Never before had pope and emperor been so united. Following his coronation, Otto III adopted a new title: Romanorum imperator augustus. This symbolized Otto III’s desire for a much closer relationship with Rome than his father or grandfather had. Otto wanted to fuse Rome and its church into his imperial domains.

Otto returned to Germany in the winter of 996 and oversaw the baptism of King Stephen of Hungary, the first Christian ruler of a people who had been raiding the German lands 40 years earlier. Yet, as his grandfather Otto the Great had discovered, Rome was a tempestuous city that would not easily bow to the imperial will. In 997, the Romans declared the elevation of Gregory V invalid and set up a rival pope. Otto III descended on Rome in the winter of 997 and had the rival pope mutilated and deposed.

Otto now made Rome the administrative capital of his Empire. He was determined to follow the imperial examples of ancient Rome and of the Byzantines in the performance of his rule and in the customs and rituals of his court. Otto had a palace constructed on the Palatine Hill, the palatial site of the Roman emperors of old. Otto gave his administrators and military commanders Byzantine titles.

Residing in Rome and allying himself closely with the pope were central to Otto’s desire to fuse the authority of the Roman church with that of the Emperor. When Gregory V died in 999, Otto appointed another close ally to the papal throne, who took the name Sylvester II. It was no coincidence that the 4th-century Sylvester I had been bishop of Rome alongside Constantine the Great, the first Christian Emperor. Otto was proclaiming himself to the world as the new Constantine.

The death of the German chancellor, the king’s chief advisor, in 998, gave Otto III the opportunity to unite the chancelleries of Italy and Germany into a single office. This meant that the two realms would no longer be treated as separate administrative entities, but as a united empire. To this same end, Otto reshaped his relationship with the Duke of Poland, bringing Poland into the sphere of the empire through a lavish ceremony with the Polish duke Boleslaw.

Otto was a deeply spiritual man. Alongside Imperator Augustus, he proclaimed himself “servant of the Apostles” in his official titles. He went on pilgrimage frequently, where he would dress in rags and walk barefoot for miles, and he fasted regularly and wore a hair-shirt.

After spending time in Poland and Germany, Otto III returned to Italy in the year 1000, where he had to deal with yet more rebellions in Rome and various Italian towns. It was in the midst of sorting out the situation in Italy that Otto suddenly fell ill in January of 1002 and died at the age of just 21. It is likely that he died of Malaria, just as his father did after spending so much time in Rome. He left no children behind him, and his dream of imperial renovation would die with him.

Henry II: The Saintly Emperor

Henry was from a branch of the Ottonian Dynasty from which troublemakers had long sprouted. His grandfather was the rebellious Duke Henry of Bavaria, whilst his father was the equally rebellious Duke Henry II of Bavaria. Henry was an appealing choice as king, not only for his ancestry but for his age. He was 29 when he was anointed and crowned in Mainz Cathedral.

Otto III’s dream of restoring the greatness of the Roman Empire was in tatters. Rome had expelled all German influence, whilst the Italians had risen up and elected a new king of Italy. Yet unlike his predecessors, Henry II was intent on strengthening his kingship within the German lands first and foremost, and was determined not to get dragged into the quagmire of Italian politics.

To secure his power in Germany, Henry first set about restoring order to the ever-problematic eastern border. Duke Boleslaw of Poland was not loyal to Henry II, as he was to Otto III, as he disputed the former’s succession. Boleslaw had taken control of German territories west of the Oder River.

Boleslaw came to the German city of Merseburg to negotiate a peace in 1002. Negotiations went well and a compromise was agreed, but on his departure from Merseburg, Boleslaw was ambushed by a group of knights and barely escaped with his life. The Polish leader blamed Henry II and declared war. Whether Henry was involved in the attempt on Boleslaw’s life is disputed by historians.

Boleslaw was an increasingly powerful ruler of an increasingly coherent Polish state, and in 1003, he conquered Bohemia as well. With such a powerful foe on his eastern border, it is unsurprising that Henry spent much of his reign at war with Boleslaw. War raged until 1013, with Henry forced to make a compact with the pagan Slavs to aid him against Boleslaw. Attempts at peace were made in 1013, but this soon broke down and war resumed until 1018, when a lasting peace was constructed. Neither Henry nor Boleslaw was comfortable with each other, but both realized that neither could destroy the other.

Henry saw more success in his approach to Italy. In 1004, he stormed into northern Italy to reassert Ottonian authority and was crowned as King of Italy. Yet Henry was determined not to get dragged into the Italian quagmire, and he spent most of his reign in Germany, attending to the eastern border.

Yet, by 1012, Henry’s authority in Germany and Italy needed a boost, since a “king” could not wield the same authority as an “emperor.” Henry used the brief respite in the Polish wars of 1013 to lead an expedition to Rome, where he was crowned as emperor in February 1014. Twelve years into his kingship, Henry II was finally an emperor like his predecessors.

Like Otto III, Henry II was a deeply pious man. Henry’s piety manifested itself as a passion for reform of the Church, and this would prove to be Henry’s most important legacy. He was a ruler who had as much of an eye towards the spiritual realm as to the temporal. Henry was determined to transform his kingdom into the House of God.

He set about reforming the Church at every level, encouraging priestly celibacy and attempting to stamp out simony (paying for a church office). His reforming zeal was aimed at monasteries as well as the church hierarchy, where he forged strong connections with the Cluniac reformers.

Henry surrounded himself with bishops and promoted the most talented theologians to prominent positions at his court. Within his realm, it was Henry, and not the pope, who was the ultimate authority on all church matters. With the pope’s authority being so weak at this time, Henry became the dominant figure in the Western Latin church.

Henry’s church reforms would have two immense consequences for the future. One was that his reforming zeal would soon infect Rome, where churchmen nominated by Henry would commence a program of reform that would sweep the Roman Church and ultimately all Latin Christendom, leading to the meteoric rise of the Papacy in the following centuries.

The second consequence was that Henry’s authority over church matters would lead the reforming popes to seek separation from the emperors and to assert their own authority over the Church. This road would lead ultimately to Canossa in 1077 with Henry II’s distant successor, Emperor Henry IV, begging for Pope Gregory VII’s forgiveness in the snow.

Henry died in July of 1024 and was buried in the cathedral of Bamberg. Henry had no children, and the Ottonian Dynasty ended with him, having ruled in the German lands since 919. He was succeeded by Conrad II, who initiated the Salian Dynasty. Henry was canonized as a saint by Pope Eugenius III in 1147.