The Little Ice Age: How Climate Made History 1300-1850 by Brian Fagan Page B
Authors: Brian Fagan
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lands where barons fought with barons at the slightest provocation.
Towns and cities, a few with as many as 50,000 inhabitants, were places
somewhat apart, striving for their own social and political identity, peopled by a growing class of merchants and burghers, who were outside the
feudal system. Many of these towns lay at key ports and estuaries, at important river crossings, or around the residences of important lords and
bishops. But poor communications, especially on land, meant that most
communities were largely self-sufficient, as they had always been. The
parish always remained the cornerstone of the ordered life of the countryside through famine, plague, and war, long after nation states and powerful commercial associations transformed the European economy.
Medieval farming: sheep shearing sowing, and the harvest. Reconstruction based
on Wharram Percy, England. Reprinted with permission of English Heritage.
Medieval farming: interior of a long house with its crucks (timber beams). Reconstruction based on Wharram Percy, England. Reprinted with permission of English
Heritage.
Europe's commerce was still based on trade routes well known to the
Romans. Wool flowed across the North Sea and English Channel,
Mediterranean goods up major waterways like the Rhine and overland,
along routes between Lombardy, Genoa, and Venice, important centers
of trade with eastern Mediterranean lands. The Hanseatic League, a powerful commercial association based in Scandinavia, Germany, and the
Low Countries, was still in its infancy. Europe's rudimentary infrastructure still depended on slow, unreliable communications across potentially
stormy seas, on rivers and inland waterways, and the most rudimentary
rural tracks. The amount of grain imported from the Baltic and Mediterranean lands was still minuscule compared with later centuries. In the final analysis, every community, every town, was on its own.
Medieval farmers had few options for dealing with rainfall and cold.
They could diversify their crops, planting some drought-resistant strains
and others that thrived in wetter conditions. As a precaution, they could
sow their crops on a mosaic of different soils, hoping for better yields
from some of them. In earlier centuries they could perhaps move to richer
areas, but by 1300 most of Europe's best farmland was occupied. Storage
was all important. Enough grain had to be kept on hand to tide the community over from one harvest to the next and beyond, and to even out
the good and bad years. Even with barns stuffed to the eaves, however,
few medieval villages could endure two bad harvests, even if wealthy lords
or religious foundations with their large granaries had such a capacity.
The villagers' best recourse was the ability to exchange grain and other vi tal commodities with relatives and neighbors living close or afar. This
form of famine relief could be highly effective on a small scale, but not
when an entire continent suffered the same disaster.
Most close-knit farming communities endured the shortages of 1315 and
hoped for a better harvest the following year. Then the spring rains in
1316 prevented proper sowing of oats, barley, and spelt. The harvest
failed again and the rains continued. Complained a Salzburg chronicler
of 1316: "There was such an inundation of waters that it seemed as
though it was THE FLOOD."6 Intense gales battered Channel and North
Sea. Storm-force winds piled huge sand dunes over a flourishing port at
Kenfig near Port Talbot in south Wales, causing its abandonment. Villages throughout northern Europe paid the price for two centuries of extensive land clearance. Flocks and herds withered, crops failed, prices
rose, and people contemplated the wrath of God. The agony was slow:
famine weakens rural populations and makes them vulnerable to disease,
which follows almost inevitably in its train. The prolonged disaster is familiar from modern-day famines in Africa and
Towns and cities, a few with as many as 50,000 inhabitants, were places
somewhat apart, striving for their own social and political identity, peopled by a growing class of merchants and burghers, who were outside the
feudal system. Many of these towns lay at key ports and estuaries, at important river crossings, or around the residences of important lords and
bishops. But poor communications, especially on land, meant that most
communities were largely self-sufficient, as they had always been. The
parish always remained the cornerstone of the ordered life of the countryside through famine, plague, and war, long after nation states and powerful commercial associations transformed the European economy.
Medieval farming: sheep shearing sowing, and the harvest. Reconstruction based
on Wharram Percy, England. Reprinted with permission of English Heritage.
Medieval farming: interior of a long house with its crucks (timber beams). Reconstruction based on Wharram Percy, England. Reprinted with permission of English
Heritage.
Europe's commerce was still based on trade routes well known to the
Romans. Wool flowed across the North Sea and English Channel,
Mediterranean goods up major waterways like the Rhine and overland,
along routes between Lombardy, Genoa, and Venice, important centers
of trade with eastern Mediterranean lands. The Hanseatic League, a powerful commercial association based in Scandinavia, Germany, and the
Low Countries, was still in its infancy. Europe's rudimentary infrastructure still depended on slow, unreliable communications across potentially
stormy seas, on rivers and inland waterways, and the most rudimentary
rural tracks. The amount of grain imported from the Baltic and Mediterranean lands was still minuscule compared with later centuries. In the final analysis, every community, every town, was on its own.
Medieval farmers had few options for dealing with rainfall and cold.
They could diversify their crops, planting some drought-resistant strains
and others that thrived in wetter conditions. As a precaution, they could
sow their crops on a mosaic of different soils, hoping for better yields
from some of them. In earlier centuries they could perhaps move to richer
areas, but by 1300 most of Europe's best farmland was occupied. Storage
was all important. Enough grain had to be kept on hand to tide the community over from one harvest to the next and beyond, and to even out
the good and bad years. Even with barns stuffed to the eaves, however,
few medieval villages could endure two bad harvests, even if wealthy lords
or religious foundations with their large granaries had such a capacity.
The villagers' best recourse was the ability to exchange grain and other vi tal commodities with relatives and neighbors living close or afar. This
form of famine relief could be highly effective on a small scale, but not
when an entire continent suffered the same disaster.
Most close-knit farming communities endured the shortages of 1315 and
hoped for a better harvest the following year. Then the spring rains in
1316 prevented proper sowing of oats, barley, and spelt. The harvest
failed again and the rains continued. Complained a Salzburg chronicler
of 1316: "There was such an inundation of waters that it seemed as
though it was THE FLOOD."6 Intense gales battered Channel and North
Sea. Storm-force winds piled huge sand dunes over a flourishing port at
Kenfig near Port Talbot in south Wales, causing its abandonment. Villages throughout northern Europe paid the price for two centuries of extensive land clearance. Flocks and herds withered, crops failed, prices
rose, and people contemplated the wrath of God. The agony was slow:
famine weakens rural populations and makes them vulnerable to disease,
which follows almost inevitably in its train. The prolonged disaster is familiar from modern-day famines in Africa and
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