Globalization in the Middle Ages
A train journey from Bruges to Nuremberg takes about 7.5 hours these days. You have to change trains in Brussels Midi to the ICE to Frankfurt and then continue on to Nuremberg. The layover of almost an hour in Brussels is rather long. In contrast, 20 minutes in Frankfurt, due to the usual delays from the German border, is rather too short to catch the connection.
I didn't have breakfast and thought the long layover in Brussels would offer enough opportunity. I dragged myself through the depressing main pedestrian underpass of the European capital. There was a waffle stand, and my stomach was craving waffles with strawberries. But the waffle stand was the only one with a long queue. Then there was Starbucks, cookies from Maison Dandoy, The Belgian Chocolate House, and pizza and hamburger stands. Nothing appealed to me, and there wasn't a single inviting place to sit. And this in Belgium, a country renowned for its coziness and good food. At least there are enough seats. I sit down in the drafty, cool passageway and hope that there will be something available in the ICE 15 train restaurant.
In the Middle Ages, Nuremberg was a hub at the center of trade routes. Nuremberg merchants were highly interested in trading cloth from Flanders and Brabant or carpets from Brussels. Even then, long distance travel was common for this purpose. A map based on Erhard Etzlaub's work from 1533, the oldest surviving road map in the world in its original 1499 edition, depicted the routes of trade and pilgrimage paths as points, the number of which represented the distance in miles. Depending on the mode of transport, the journey took 20-40 days. Express couriers could probably have covered the 700-800 km route in 4-6 days.
An exhibition at the Germanisches Nationalmuseum in Nuremberg is currently exploring the global network of the Free Imperial City of Nuremberg between 1300 and 1600. The Nuremberg patricians, often wealthy through investments in mining and metalworking, and of course trade, were true travelers. Many printed travelogues, often richly illustrated, have survived from these journeys.
Not all journeys were for trade. In 1546, for example, Sigmund von Herberstein set off eastward as an envoy of the Habsburg government, traveling via Krakow and Vilnius to Moscow. He published a travelogue of his journey in 1546. Other travelers were pilgrims, such as Hans VI Tucher, who journeyed as far as Cairo, Alexandria, and Jerusalem.
Just as today, it was popular to bring back souvenirs from such trips. Interestingly, these souvenirs were already being produced specifically for sale to tourists. For instance, Stefan Praun acquired a model of the tomb of the crusader Godfrey of Bouillon as a souvenir. Praun was a passionate traveler. He also made a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, but he also visited the Netherlands, Algiers, Marseille, Venice, and Rome.
Traveloge of Johann Wild's involotary journey as a slave to as far as Abessynia, printed in 1613
Involuntary journeys also occurred. Johann Wild, a 19-year-old imperial soldier, was captured in Hungary and sold to the Ottomans. As such, he embarked on a seven-year odyssey with various masters, traveling to places including Egypt, Mecca, Yemen, Abyssinia, Jerusalem, and Damascus. But there were also imposters. For example, Hieronymus Köler from Nuremberg described a journey to Venezuela, a place he had never been to.
Travelers of that time had limited resources. Martin Behaim from Nuremberg, who was married to a Portuguese woman and offered his services to the Portuguese king, is considered the inventor of the first globe, a copy of which is held by the Germanisches Nationalmuseum. The Schöner Globus from 1520 is particularly beautiful. It already depicts the east coast and Cuba of the American continent and the Caribbean islands. After 500 years the globe still looks like new....
Print of Nuremberg in Schedel's world chronicle originally published in 1499
The printing press also enabled the dissemination of standard works such as the Nuremberg Chronicle of 1499, a copy of which, showing the city of Nuremberg, is on display in the exhibition.
In 1505, Peter Henlein of Nuremberg invented what could be considered a pocket watch. Before that, telling time while traveling was a matter of the sun's position. Portable sundials existed for this purpose, which could be correctly aligned in different regions using dials that depended on the altitude of the pole. Such folding sundials were still being manufactured as late as 1580.
Folding sun dials from 1511 and 1580 still displaying the correct hour after 500 years without any use of AI
Travel brought the customs and traditions of foreign lands to Nuremberg. Women were interested in the latest fashions from distant lands, and elaborate fashion catalogs were printed. Exotic souvenirs were used in the applied arts. The exhibition, for example, displays goblets whose containers are made from richly detailed coconut shells or ostrich eggs. Exotic shells were incorporated into other vessels, or plates were inlaid with mother-of-pearl in India, and the metal was then further processed in Nuremberg.
The art scene in the 16th century was also international. Albrecht Dürer the Elder, goldsmith and father of the famous artist, was born in Hungary and had worked in the Burgundian Netherlands. His wife, Barbara, Albrecht's mother, was portrayed by her famous son in 1490. It was one of his first paintings and a signpost for his future work. She was the daughter of Hieronymos Holper, another renowned Nuremberg goldsmith of the time.
The painter Albrecht Dürer himself undertook a long journey to the Netherlands in 1520-1521. Although he spent most of his time in Antwerp, he also visited Bruges, Ghent, and Mechelen. During this time, he produced a large number of portraits, sketches, and animal studies.
The votive painting of Stephan Praun from 1511 illustrates the dangers that travel could entail during this period. The merchant Praun was traveling to Italy with his goods. On Lake Garda, his ship was caught in a storm. His group was then harassed by Venetian mercenaries from the Peloponnese, who were known for taking no prisoners. The painting shows Praun kneeling in the lower left, thanking the Virgin for his deliverance.
Like almost all train connections between Brussels and Cologne, the ICE 15 is practically packed. However, there's still a table for me in the restaurant car, and I'm promptly served pumpkin soup as a late breakfast. Shortly after Brussels, the first announcement is made advising passengers to keep an eye on their luggage and especially their valuables, as these trains are often a playground for robbers and pickpockets. Although so far only a few madmen have actually tried to kill somebody on a train, the comparison to medieval travel is not far-fetched. Upon arrival in Liège less than an hour later, it's clear that two passengers in first class and one in second class have been robbed. Despite the announcement being repeated regularly, the thief apparently remains on the train undisturbed. Beyond Aachen the thief has found another victim, An Asian traveler is frantically searching the carriages for his laptop. Perhaps neither the thief nor the victim had heard or understood the announcements. At the next table, they're discussing the need for "rail marshals." High noon on the Intercity Express. Traveling is becoming exciting again.
Before Cologne, an announcement was made requesting a doctor or nurse to assist a passenger in the front carriage. This usually causes long delays, as the trains have to wait at the next station for the doctor or nurse to arrive. However, we continue on our way. Accidents and illnesses were, of course, fatal for travelers in the Middle Ages. The Nuremberg patrician Peter Volckamer died in Siena in 1432 during an official mission to King Sigismund. The mining entrepreneur Hans Tetzel, who had established a mine operated by slaves in Cuba, died in Madrid in the 16th century.
Hospitals were few and far between, and the knowledge of physicians was limited. A wealthy, large city like Nuremberg, however, had a hospital. It was the Holy Spirit Hospital (Heilig Geist Spital), one wing of which is built like a bridge over the Pegnitz River, which flows through Nuremberg. The hospital, originally founded in the 14th century, was expanded several times, including the bridge-like addition spanning the Pegnitz. By order of Emperor Sigismund, the Imperial Regalia were kept in the hospital chapel. Naturally, the building was thoroughly destroyed in World War II. The modern reconstruction now houses, as it did originally, a retirement home, a pharmacy, and a traditional restaurant.
In wealthy Bruges, the corresponding institution was St. John's Hospital (St. Jams Hospital). A facility for the care of the sick existed here as early as 1150, making it the oldest hospital in Europe. Around 1200, the enormous hospital hall was built, which still stands today and houses a fascinating museum about the hospital's history.
In addition to the hospital, there was also a men's monastery, built in the 14th century, and a women's monastery dating from 1544. Previously, the nuns had to sleep in the attic of the hospital hall. In the 19th century, it finally became clear that new buildings, adapted to the advances of medicine, were necessary. The building complex, which was continually expanded, operated as a hospital until 1977. After relocating to a modern building on the outskirts of the city, the historic complex was converted into a museum and convention center.
In the museum, a painting by Jan Beerblock from 1778 illustrates what life was like in a medieval hospital. Explanations of the individual scenes can be accessed on a screen. Double rows of cots stand in the room. To the right, you can see the litter in which the sick were brought to the hospital. A group of important-looking doctors are discussing a patient's case. Another is feeling a pulse. Medicine is being served. A nun is reading the last rites to a dying woman in a bed in the corridor.
Meanwhile, nuns are distributing food onto plates. Nearby, sanitary dressings are being boiled. Cats and dogs were common in hospitals and can be seen in various places.
Even as late as 1850, the average life expectancy was only 35 years. This was also due to the high infant mortality rate. 41.7% died before their fifth birthday. The main causes of death were plague, smallpox, malaria, dysentery, cholera, tuberculosis, and the Spanish flu. But despite the primitive methods, 85% of patients left the hospital alive in the Middle Ages.
Detail displaying doctors discussing the fate of one of the sick, feeling the pulse, cleaning and reading the last sacrament
In contrast, working in the hospital was extremely dangerous. Sixteen percent of the nurses died within five years.
A display case contains instruments that were available to doctors at that time. The saw used for amputations is particularly prominent.
Some diseases are now completely or almost extinct. The plague for decades has only occurred in a few isolated cases in Madagascar. A display panel describes the medieval treatment of bladder stones. The Roman physician Aulus Cornelius Celsus described a lithotomy, or stone removal. The Celsus method, named after him, remained the standard method for removing bladder stones until the 17th century. In the Middle Ages, specialized stonecutters traveled from town to town. The patient sat on an armchair. Two assistants held his legs. The stonecutter inserted two fingers into the patient's anus to push the stone down. He inserted a catheter into the urethra, which was held by a third assistant. He made an incision in the pelvic floor below the anus until he reached the stone and then removed it with forceps. And all this without anesthesia!
The wounds healed slowly, and many patients remained incontinent for a long time. Often, they eventually died from the bleeding and infections caused by the procedure.
Historic pharmacy of St. Jan's hospital
The hospital's pharmacy is also preserved on the grounds. Many of the medications were formerly made in-house from a variety of basic ingredients.
St. John's Monastery was the main place of work for the famous Burgundian court painter Hans Memling. Memling was born around 1430 in Seligenstadt near Frankfurt, a town whose center looks hardly different today than it did in Memling's time. Via Brusselshe later came to Bruges. Another example of the globalization of that era. It is likely that Albrecht Dürer, who visited Bruges in 1499, about 20 years after Memling's death, also studied Memling's paintings at St. John's Hospital.
From the same period as St. John's Hospital is the nearby Begijnhof. Begijnhofs were residences where single women could live. They were financed by wealthy, charitable benefactors. The beguines dedicated their lives to charity, caring for the sick and elderly, and producing crafts. A garden served for producing vegetables. Later, the beguinage also became the seat of a monastic community. Even today, it is inhabited exclusively by women.
Begijnhof in Brugge
I'm almost there. Another commuter train. As usual, everyone has parked their bags and backpacks in the seats next to them. An older woman in green has taken up an entire group of four seats. Her feet, clad in dirty shoes, are resting on the seat opposite her. In the seat next to me, she has placed her snack and thermos. The fourth seat is occupied by a bag and jacket. I point at that seat and ask if it's occupied, even though there's a whole group of four seats free on the other side of the aisle. With obvious reluctance, she pushes her jacket and backpack towards her feet and then continues chewing on her sourdough sandwich.
Begijnhof in Brugge
I'm reminded of my Amtrak journeys. In the US, it's frowned upon to occupy seats with luggage. The conductor would definitely say something to anyone doing it. But perhaps everyone in Germany is also afraid of their luggage going astray. Thefts seem to be rare on Amtrak trains. There, rolling suitcases are placed in the designated compartments at the end of the car. In Germany, they're left standing between the seats, taking up space. Maybe it would help if staff regularly patrolled the train. That's not so common in Germany anymore, and even when there is a conductor, they rarely comment.
Shrine painted by Hans Memling showing the arrival of pelgrims in the port of Bruges
Sources:
Information panels, Museum St. Janshospital
Nürnberg Global 1300-1600, Ausstellungskatalog, Deutscher Kunstverlag 2025