328 THE LATE MIDDLE AGES
parish churches, trade guilds, neighborhood assemblies, ethnic or religious ghet-
toes, local schools, religious confraternities and prayer groups, sports teams, or
even the gathering of regulars at the local tavern. The creation of these commu-
nities demanded and catalyzed change. For example, the needs of urban life—
contracts, receipts, deeds, government reports, judicial summonses and decisions,
letters and libraries—tend to foster a need for, and therefore an increase in, general
literacy. This need both contributed to and resulted from the proliferation of
schools in urban centers. But cities also offer the opportunity of anonymity; most
readers of this book will know what it is like to feel alone in a crowd of several
thousand people. So for medieval townsfolk, and for new immigrants to the cities
anonymity was a new sensation indeed, one that elicited fundamental questions
of identity and position. The conception of one’s own identity changed signifi-
cantly once one was freed, for good or ill, from the relationships that defined one’s
identity and social role in a smaller and rural setting. As a consequence of this
anonymity, and the general proliferation of literacy, cities in the High Middle Ages
witnessed the otherwise inexplicable rise in popularity of the genre of autobiogra-
phy. St. Augustine may have invented it in the fifth century with his great Confes-
sions, but no such analogous work was even attempted, that we know of, until the
twelfth century. Peter Abelard’s History of My Misfortunes seems to have revived
the form; in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, it became surprisingly
popular.
As laboratories of cultural interaction, cities created the atmosphere for testing
social assumptions and traditional behaviors. Many gender roles were questioned;
some were changed. Ideas and technologies passed from one group to another.
But resistance to such changes also ran strong, and in a backlash reaction medieval
Europe became obsessed with the notion of labeling and identifying people so that
one knew who was one dealing with. Ethnic and religious groups were increas-
ingly forced to wear identifying badges—Jews, for example, had to sew circular
badges of yellow cloth on their outer garments—but the passion for identifying
people went beyond religion and was something larger than mere prejudice. Bak-
ers wore certain kinds of hats; priests wore clerical collars; students wore academic
robes; members of individual guilds had signifying collars, badges, robes, and
rings to identify their trade, pilgrims carried staves and rucksacks that betokened
their status. Statutes called sumptuary laws laid down strict rules for dress stan-
dards that differentiated the classes: The well-to-do wife of an international mer-
chant, for example, might be allowed to wear a silk garment with twelve silver
buttons and an embroidered hemline two palm-widths from the ground, but the
wife of a modest tavern-keeper, regardless of how much disposable cash she had,
had to resign herself to a woolen garment with a half-dozen brass or even wooden
buttons and a plain hemline four palm-widths from the ground.
1
Everyone had a
pigeonhole and had to live in it. But even here the idea was less to atomize society
than to bind it together by having everyone play their appropriate role and not
pretend to anything else. What medieval society, consciously or not, aimed for was
a vision of civilization that was best defined, in a very different context, by the
1. An example from the municipal laws of London (1281): “No woman of the city may henceforth
enter the marketplace, walk on the king’s highway, or leave her house for any reason, wearing a hood
trimmed with anything other than lambskin or rabbitskin—upon penalty of the sheriff’s confiscating
that hood—unless that woman is one of the [noble] ladies entitled to wear fur-trimmed capes (the hoods
of which they may trim with whatever fur they deem proper). This law is enacted because many shop-
girls, nurses, servants, and women of loose morals do now go about bedecked in hoods trimmed with
squirrel-fur or ermine, as though they were in fact true ladies.”