Gone Medieval - The Last Pagans
Episode Date: May 20, 2025What really happened when the last pagans of medieval Europe were 'converted' to Christianity?Dr. Eleanor Janega is joined by Dr. Francis Young unravel the fascinating story of Lithuania's dramatic co...nversion to Christianity in 1387. From the political intrigue, the Teutonic Knights' relentless crusades to the cultural clash that led to the end of Europe's last pagan stronghold. They discuss how ancient traditions blended with new beliefs and a pivotal moment in history.MORETeutonic Knights:https://open.spotify.com/episode/0gUpGPLW74wnhDm7MI5h6VThe Rise of Christianity:https://open.spotify.com/episode/4OadirQmTlIrxRjUFYhrEJGone Medieval is presented by Dr. Eleanor Janega. Edited by Amy Haddow. The producers are Rob Weinberg and Joseph Knight. The senior producer is Anne-Marie Luff.All music used is courtesy of Epidemic Sounds.Gone Medieval is a History Hit podcast.Sign up to History Hit for hundreds of hours of original documentaries, with a new release every week and ad-free podcasts. Sign up at https://www.historyhit.com/subscribe. You can take part in our listener survey here: https://insights.historyhit.com/history-hit-podcast-always-on Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
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Hello, I'm Dr. Eleanorianica and welcome to Gone Medieval from History Hit,
the podcast that delves into the greatest millennium in human history.
We uncover the greatest mysteries, the gobsmacking details,
and the latest groundbreaking research from the Vikings to the Normans,
from kings to popes, to the Crusades.
We delve into the rebellions, plots, and murders that tell us who we really were.
And how we got here.
In February 1387, Yogila, the Grand Duke of Lithuania, returned from a mission abroad.
He had just married the Polish queen Yadviga, making him the ruler of one of the largest and most powerful kingdoms in Europe.
But such important unions came.
at a price. And for Yogila and his subjects, that price was their religion. At the end of the
14th century, Lithuania was home to some of the most staunch and stalwart non-Christians in Europe.
Their capital Vilnius still boasted a roofless temple dedicated to the god Perkunis, where a
sacred fire was kept always burning, its smoke rising to the heavens.
surrounding the city was a sacred forest,
where animals, including grass snakes,
said to be household guardians, were protected from harm.
But all of that was about to change.
Yogila had his fellow nobles baptized.
The temple turned into a cathedral,
and the forest raised to the ground,
with its sacred snakes hunted down and killed.
The Lithuanians were now Christians,
And the process of the conversion of Europe was complete.
At least, that's how the story goes.
Of course, as historians always delight in saying,
the real story is much more complicated than that.
And to discuss those complexities,
today I am joined by Dr. Francis Young,
the author of The Silence of the Gods,
the untold history of Europe's last pagan peoples.
Francis, welcome to Gone Medieval.
It's wonderful to be here.
I am so excited to have you here because I absolutely loved your new book.
Zero surprises here.
Eleanor enjoys book about that starts in 14th century Eastern Europe.
What a surprise.
Couldn't believe it.
But I think that this is such an incredibly interesting topic.
And it's the sort of thing that people kind of bring up a lot.
You know, I think that everybody kind of likes to say, oh, yes, the Baltic region,
last to Christian eyes, isn't that very interesting?
and it's kind of the subject of rather a lot of romantic conjecture.
I suppose the best place to start with any is a completely open-ended question that we could debate for hours probably.
But who do we consider the last pagans of medieval Europe?
I think this P-word that we're going to be using a lot, the pagan word, is quite a problem to use.
I think it's, I have mixed feelings about it. You know, on the one hand, it's a word that most people kind of readily understand what you're trying to get at when you use it. That you're talking about people who are following their ancestral religious traditions that predate the arrival of Christianity in northern Europe. So, you know, to that extent, it's okay, I think, to use it. The difficulty of it is that it kind of glosses over all of the differences between these people and the totally different
approaches they have towards religion and the sacred. And finding, you know, who is the last,
I think is really quite difficult because we encounter these versions of religion that are
neither Christian nor pre-Christian, these kind of brickalages or creoles of religion, which
contain elements of both and yet seem to be neither. So I'm going to be really lame in sort of
not answering that first question, who were the last pagans? Because I think it's almost impossible to say.
I think that this is such, I love to get immediately into definition chat, because this was a part that I really, really enjoyed from the introduction to your book,
just the discussion of how we use, you know, the P word, how we use pagan. Because fundamentally, this is a Christian term for a bunch of people they don't like, right?
And it's this really kind of flattening word that I think people kind of understand what you're getting at.
But what I always talk about is there's an illustrated 17th century manuscript that shows the Russians expanding into what is now Siberia in places like that.
And they are up against, you know, the local peoples, the Tartars and things.
And they wish to show them as pagans.
So they've drawn like little statues that look like classic.
Greek statues. And I'm like, babe, I just don't think so. That's not, that's not what's
going on. But that is kind of like what's happening in the Christian imagination is that you're
talking about Zeus or Hera or something like that, whereas that's probably not what's happening
on the ground. Yeah, I think this gets to the root of the problem. It's that when people in the
late Middle Ages are approaching unchristianized peoples, that's used that as a sort of neutral
term, they have frameworks of interpretation. They have expectations that they bring to the table.
And one of those expectations is that all pagans are going to be like the Ephesians in the book of
acts, you know, who desperately want to continue sacrificing to this enormous image of Diana.
Or they expect that they will be like, you know, the Canaanites in the Old Testament
who cling on to their Asherapoles and their rural shrines.
or they have a view which is, yeah, derived from their reading of the Greeks and Romans themselves.
So, you know, they'll be like Cicero.
And of course, none of these things are true.
And I think this is a massive reason why Christianisation falters and kind of reaches this impenetrable
barrier in certain regions of northeastern Europe.
And it's to do with the fact that the unchristianized peoples follow,
religious traditions or perhaps you could even say spiritual traditions, I'm not sure religion is
even the right word always, that are so different that there is no frame of reference for the
missionaries. And if you've got no frame of reference for the religion you're encountering,
how can you embark on the process of conversion? I mean, and that's exactly it, isn't it? It's
a kind of one-size-fits-all approach to several groups of people. You know, we were talking about,
you know, everyone from the Sami to the Lithuanians. And, you know, there are
the Finno-Yergrit cultures up here. There's all kinds of different people hanging out
in northeastern Europe who are probably following slightly different religions, who are doing
things differently. And it doesn't look a single thing like what was happening in the
Mediterranean a thousand years ago. Yeah, absolutely. I mean, these people are enormously
diverse in terms of their ethnic origins, their languages, but also in terms of the ecosystems
within which they live, the landscapes that they inhabit, the lifestyles that they have. So you've
got the Sami people who are nomadic or semi-nomadic reindeer herders. You've got the
nomadic Nenets people up in the far north of what is today, Russia. You've also got settled farming
communities like the Estonians who nevertheless have this intimate relationship with the forest,
which seems to be what we might call animistic. And we find the same thing along the Volga,
you know, close to the Urals, these remote regions of European Russia. And then we've got
peoples like the Lithuanians and the Latvians and the Prussians who are perhaps a little
bit more comprehensible to Christian missionaries, because they outwardly or cosmetically resemble the
sort of stereotyped pagans of antiquity, but even there, all is not quite as it seems. And there is
this colossal language barrier, because these people are not only speaking languages that people
don't know, but they also belong to linguistic groups that don't have a Christian population
within them. So there isn't this kind of resource they can draw on of, you know, a missionary
who speaks a version of that language or a related language who can easily kind of then slip in
to learning that language and communicating with those people.
This is, you know, my problem even today in the year of our Lord 2025, right?
I absolutely lose all of my linguistic progress when presented with Finno-Urig
of any description.
Just like, nope, absolutely not.
That's not going to happen.
So, you know, it's even worse, you know, if we're talking about sort of the 14th century or so.
I mean, so we have these really disparate groups of people.
We have a kind of generalized geographical area of northeastern Europe.
But I mean, is it really even possible for us to be attempting to identify who these last
unchristianized people are? I mean, is this what we want to go with? Do we want to say
unchristianized? Is that a better term? Or what are we? How do we want to call these people?
Yeah, I prefer the term unchristianized. And it's the term that I use most in my book,
Silence of the Gods, partly because it's a neutral term, or at least a more neutral term, than Pagan.
because it glosses over the extent to which these people might have had contact with Christianity
without adopting it. I think that's important to bear in mind that Christianity is always there
in the background for these people. They're not completely uncontacted tribes. They do have
a relationship with Christian powers and Christian missionaries and so forth, but they have not
identified themselves. They have not culturally become part of the Christian world. And I think
it also is a word that we can use that covers all of these people's regardless of their individual
religious traditions. I think, yeah, the question you pose as to whether we can talk about all these
people's as a group is an absolutely legitimate one. But at the same time, I think it's a shame that
we haven't talked about them together. Because for so long, these people have only been studied
by scholars mostly from the regions and countries in the languages of those regions and countries,
which English-speaking readers are not going to encounter that scholarship.
And so I think that there is a story to be told here about a collection of traditions
that we should be recognizing, in my view, as part of the religious history of Europe.
You know, the religious history of Europe, we tend to think in the Middle Ages is all about Christianity,
There is more of a recognition now that it's also about Islam, you know, in Iberia, in the Balkans and elsewhere.
And there is a recognition that Judaism is a massively important religion in late medieval Europe.
But there is this other factor, and that is this collection of traditions.
I won't call it a single tradition in the far northeast of Europe.
These traditions which, although the numbers of people we might be talking about, are very small compared to, you know, the
numbers of people who are living in Constantinople or even living in Krakow or wherever. But they are
people whose existence deeply troubles the Christian world. So it doesn't matter that there aren't
very many of them or that they live this nomadic existence far on the geographical and cultural
margins of Europe. They do live within the realms of Christian kings. And that is something
which is deeply troubling to the Christian world. It is an important story. It's an important element
of Europe's religious past that needs to be recovered.
I couldn't agree more, and you know also obviously as a huge enthusiast for English speakers
taking better look at parts of Europe that we don't ordinarily consider it.
But I mean, I think certainly within my studies, and the Sami come up a lot because they
are this existential threat. As far as people are concerned, people are terrified of the Sami,
and they are convinced that they have incredible magical powers and that they can curse ships.
There's a much concern about ships being cursed by the Sami, that they can control wind, that they do all these harmful things. And so even though it's a really tiny group of people up in the furthest northern reaches of Europe, these are people who are being speculated about almost constantly and very specifically negatively as well.
Yeah, and I think that's something which you can see from the moment really that the Norse become Christian, the Sami become more threatening.
You know, before Christianisation, it does seem that there was some degree of religious interaction
and even the exploitation of Sami practices by North settlers, you know, who were interested in this stuff.
But with Christianisation, people are trying to understand who the Sami are, what they're up to.
But the only kind of interpretative framework that they've got, the only frame of reference for understanding what's going on, for example,
in the trance of a Sami no idea or shaman is witchcraft.
And this is really bad news for the Sami.
It's because Sami religion doesn't resemble anything
that Christian scholars would recognize as paganism,
the only thing they can call it is witchcraft.
And you see a similar thing, of course, happening in the new world.
You know, when English settlers go to North America in the 16th and 17th centuries,
they say, oh, you know, these native people,
They don't have a religion. They just practice witchcraft. And it is tremendously damaging. You know, it's lethal to the Sami that they end up being stigmatized as a nation of witches. In fact, they're the only people in Europe who come to be stigmatized in this way as an entire nation of witches.
I just find them so incredibly intriguing. And I suppose my heart goes out to them a little bit because everything that you read is just so terrible. But I mean,
I've immediately diverted us to talking about the Sami because I love them.
This isn't kind of where the grand story that Christians like to tell about this sort of holdout area is that the last pagans, their words, not mine, who are converted are those who are in the Grand Duchy of Lithuania.
And this is a huge amount of land, you know, from the 13th century onward.
I mean, we're talking about it going from the Baltic all the way to the black.
sea. It's an absolutely huge amount of places. But can you try to sum up one of the largest
patchwork states in late medieval Europe for us very quickly? I mean, what does the Grand Duchy of
Lithuania look like? Yeah, the Grand Duchy of Lithuania is probably by area, the largest
polity in late medieval Europe. It's absolutely enormous, as you say, it stretches from the
Baltic right the way through to almost the shores of Black Sea. Sometimes it's referred to as
the Intermarium because it's between these two seas. However, it is a very complex polity.
It is ruled from Vilnius by the Grand Dukes who are ethnically Lithuanian and speak the Lithuanian
language and by their family members who have come over the course of centuries to dominate a series of
East Slavic-speaking principalities. These are former principalities of Kievan Rus. They are located
mostly in what today is Belarus and Ukraine and some parts of the far west of what's now
Russia. But their religion is most definitely Orthodox. They are Orthodox Christians. And in fact,
when members of the Grand Ducal family become rulers of these principalities, they invariably
convert to orthodoxy and become baptised and take on orthodox Slavic names. And the dominant language
of the Grand Duchy is what we might call today Belarusian or Ukrainian or East Slavic. It's
difficult to give these anachronistic terms. But yeah, it's complex because religiously,
its dominant religion is orthodoxy, demographically speaking, but its official religion
in terms of what the Grand Duke's practice is pagan.
So in Vilnius there is a temple which is dedicated to the god Perkunas, the thunder god who is venerated
in oak trees, sacrifices are offered to Perkunas, the Lithuanians themselves who live, broadly
speaking in what is today the area of the Republic of Lithuania, although a bit more
outside it as well in what's now Belarus. They are also pagan. And in fact, in Vilnius,
you will find churches, you will find mosques, you will find synagogues, you will find synagogues,
find Orthodox and Catholic churches, monasteries, Franciscan friars, Dominican friars who work for the
Grand Duke, writing down documents. And yet it is forbidden on pain of death for any of those clergy
to preach to or convert the Lithuanians themselves. They can preach to their own communities.
So you've got this extraordinary religious settlement, unparalleled, anywhere else in Europe.
But the reason for it is largely political. The grand.
Grand dukes find themselves sandwiched between great powers. So on the one hand, they've got
Muscovy, which is Orthodox. They don't want to convert to Orthodoxy because that would put them
within the sphere of influence of Muscovy. They don't want to convert to Catholicism because
they have been engaged in an existential struggle for centuries with the Teutonic Knights,
a Catholic military monastic order who are intent on seizing control of Lithuanian lands and taking
over Lithuania, so they don't want to convert to Catholicism. And so it's almost as though the balance
of religious power within this disputed region is held by not converting to any religion and
remaining pagan. I mean, I think that that is kind of really explicable to us now, you know,
this idea that the thing that gives one power in a nationalistic sense is having a set of practices
that are uniquely your own.
You know, it's kind of a demarcation of social practice at the very least.
You know, and then you can say, all right, well, we're not going to join you because we are
something else entirely, right?
And that is, it's almost modern in its conception there.
You mentioned very briefly, you know, what we know of some of the temples.
Do we know very much about the kind of religious practice or ritual that they would have
engaged in in real news?
Yeah, we do know a bit about what.
was going on in Vilnius in the Grand Ducal cult. We don't know whether that was just peculiar
to Vilnius though, or whether it was more widely spread. And some scholars have suggested actually
that Grand Dukes like Diedemines, for example, may have effectively invented it as a sort
of counterpart to Christianity that seemed as impressive as Christianity as a way of maintaining
this balance of power, but obviously drawing on their native traditions. And we know that
there was this remarkable temple in Vilnius, which was a former cathedral, because at an earlier
point in the 13th century, Mindaugas, another Lithuanian grand duke, had converted to Christianity and built
a cathedral. Then he gets assassinated and the Lithuanians go back. And so the roof is taken
off the cathedral and it's turned into a temple and a massive altar is constructed in it with steps
going up. This has been excavated in the 1980s. So we have some idea of what was going on. And
sacrifices are made there to Perkunas. And we also have a place known as Sventaragis, which is the
Holy Horn, which is on the rivers Vilni and Neris, which run through Vilnius. And that is a place
where the Grand Dukes are cremated. And cremation is tremendously important to the Lithuanians
and all the Baltic peoples as a marker of difference. We are different from the Christians
because we cremate our dead. They are cremated in these grand funerals with enormous amounts of
wealth cremated with them, and then that will all be buried in a burial mound, effectively,
and that becomes a place where their spirit is then venerated and ancestral feasts will be held to
feed the spirit. So, yeah, we know a little bit about what was going on. We also know that there
were holy groves and forests around Vilnius, where the animals couldn't be killed, where the
trees could not be cut down, so there were various taboos against that. You know, it's really hard not to be
kind of team pre-Christian because all of this sounds incredibly cool. It's just so cool. Like, it's
cool to have a sacred grove, man. It's very cool to have a giant funeral party and feast. That
and of itself becomes a problem. I think when we're attempting to talk about these things,
because it's so easy to romanticize in opposition, I suppose, to the Christianity that we're all
steeped in and aware of, you know, it becomes so incredibly larger than life, which I think is amusing,
because I think that Christian chroniclers would be horrified to hear me say that. And yet, I'm saying it,
done to less. Yeah, I think we have to be careful because a lot of these sources that describe
Baltic religion, for example, are written down by crusaders, people in the Teutonic order,
whose entire raison d'être was to destroy and discredit these people and portray them as the
worst people imaginable. Or, at a slightly later period, it's written down by Polish authors who
were not as hostile as the Teutonic Knights, but they also are quite keen to show that
Polish Catholicism has triumphed over this previous existing religion. What we notably
that is any Lithuanians who actually wrote about this themselves. That just isn't a source
where a Lithuanian has written about it, which I find very upsetting that we're always
looking at the sources written by outsiders. It's just, it's one of the,
ongoing frustrations, I suppose, of medieval history generally.
But I mean, in particular in this case, so you've mentioned this a couple of times.
I want to kind of dig in a little bit more to the history of the attempts to crusade against
these groups of people, because we've mentioned already the Teutonic Knights.
They've been pretty involved in, I suppose, what we call the Northern Crusade up to this point.
And this isn't a very friendly way of attempting to convert anyone, is it?
Yeah, and actually I would say it's not best understood as an attempt to convert anyone.
The thing about the Northern Crusades is that they have their own very distinctive aims and character.
And right from the beginning, when you've got the Wendish Crusade, which is launched in the middle of the 12th century, it's a land grab, basically.
You know, it's about territory.
It's about the subjugation of peoples who don't fit in to, you know, the pattern of, you know, the pattern of,
you know, those who are willing to be converted. And it's a last resort. So the Wendish Crusade,
which is the first example of this, which is launched in 1144, that begins at the same time as
crusade in the Levant is being relaunched. But essentially it's because missionaries to the Wens
have failed to make headway. And so the Pope decides, well, if we've not been able to convert
these people by the usual means, that is to say, sending missionaries who,
will try and persuade people, try and learn their language, try and convince leaders, particularly
convince elites to convert and thereby gain this kind of trickle-down conversion that happens
in so many countries like England, for example. If that's failed, then the only thing we can do
is to effectively seize this land and potentially purge it of these non-Christian people.
And so there is genocidal intent, which is quite clearly and expressly stated in some of these early attempts at crusade.
But there are also elements of self-protection.
So, for example, when the Danish king decides that he's going to occupy the island of Saramar in Estonia, that's the first kind of Christian intervention in the Baltic.
Because Saramar is full of pirates, it's basically the Vikings of the Baltic.
They keep raiding Danish lands like the island of Bornholm.
and so he decides what I'm going to establish a bridgehead here.
But really it begins with the establishment of Riga.
So what today is the capital of Latvia,
a city which is established by merchants who want to control
one of the major access points to the vast rivers
that communicate with the interior of Kievan Rus or the remains of Kievan Rus
after the Mongols have swept through in the 13th century.
And these are very important trading ports.
They always are going to be because you can communicate with the interior,
but you can also communicate with the Black Sea.
And if you can communicate with the Black Sea,
you've got access to Constantinople, you know, the Golden Horn and all that.
So, yeah, this is strategically and, you know, from a mercantile point of view,
is very important.
And it's German settlers who want to establish Riga,
and they require protection.
And so we have the arrival of the Livonian sword,
brethren in the beginning of the 13th century. But the big moment is when a Polish duke,
Conrad of Mazzovia, invites a group known as the Teutonic Knights to defend his realm
against the Baltic people who keep raiding, who are the Prussians in 1226. Now, I think
it's important to make clear that Prussians in this case means a Baltic people who occupy the
area that one day would be what we might think of Prussia, that is to say, German Prussia,
that becomes the sort of core of later the German Empire. The German Prussians are sort of a German
group of people who sort of stole the name of an earlier people, if you like. But the original Prussians,
or sometimes they're called the Old Prussians. The original Prussians were bolts, they were pagans,
they were very, very resistant to Christianity, they were very warlike and aggressive, and they were
determine that nobody else was going to occupy their lands. The Teutonic Knights originally
were a hospital order, so rather like the Knights of St John of Jerusalem. They had been,
in theory, sort of glorified hospital porters in the Levant who ran a hospital for German knights
who were injured in the Crusades, but they gradually became ever more militarised and bloated
with donations and support. By the time that Conrad of Mozovia is in contact with,
the Teutonic Knights. They're already crusading. They're crusading in Hungary against the
Qumans or the Polovzians, whatever you want to call them, there's Turkic people who are also
very resistant to Christianity and are trying to invade Hungary. So they are very eager to do this.
They say, yeah, sure, yeah, we'll crusade against the Prussians. And as before, it's a land grab.
So they want to set up their own kind of military monastic state. They have no interest whatsoever
in converting the Prussians. And in the Russians. And in the
In fact, there is this inherent paradox between crusade and conversion.
Because if you crusade against someone, you are setting up a frontier, a hard frontier,
where they hate you, you hate them.
You have no interest whatsoever in perceiving them as human.
If you have no interest in perceiving them as human, you can't convert them.
Because conversion requires change of heart.
It requires, you know, persuading people to become Christians.
And they don't want that.
They don't want to give the Prussian's rights.
And so you end up with this kind of very oppressive situation in Prussia.
Yeah, absolutely.
And I think that that is incredibly important because that doesn't help to chip away at the fact that these are groups of people who really see themselves as involved in a struggle for their own continued existence.
And fundamentally, we see this.
We see this in the documents.
They're like, yeah, we got to get in there and clean out.
those pagans. Again, their words not mine. And, you know, I think a great way of looking at the
Teutonic Knights is kind of more as colonizers and less as crusaders to the area. I don't think
if there's any other way of kind of dealing with them. Fundamentally, they do run up against some
geographical challenges, I would say, in terms of their mission as well. Can you tell us a little bit
about that? Yeah, they certainly do. I mean, they effectively establish control over Prussia. So,
in terms of today's geography, Prussia is broadly speaking, that exclave of Russia that we call
the Kaliningrad Oblast, if you're looking at it, at a modern map of Europe, but it's actually
bigger than that. It includes bits of what are today, Poland. And they've also got control, or rather,
a sister order has got control of Livonia,
Livonia being basically Latvia and Estonia together,
which is controlled by the Livonian Sword Brethren.
But to give you an example of how things start to unravel,
in 1236, there is an attempt by the Livonian Sword Brethren
to put down a revolt of the Semagallians,
who are basically a group of Latvians,
and this results in a battle where the Lithuanians join forces with the Latvians,
the Battle of Derbe in 1236.
And this is a total disaster for the Livonian Sword Brethren.
They're actually wiped out.
So the Grandmaster is killed.
All of the Livonian Sword Brethren are killed.
And the feud remain, they basically have to become a kind of subordinate branch of the Teutonic order further south in Prussia,
because that's the only way that they can carry on.
And I think the geography here is really important because at that battle, the reason that the grandmaster in the senior knights get cut down is that they are riding immensely heavy horses.
The kind of heavy horses that in the 13th century are the only ones strong enough to carry a fully armored knight on horseback.
And they are the heavy cavalry basically.
And the land in lots of these places is very boggy, very marshy.
And so basically they just sink into the marsh.
The Lithuanians and the Latvians, they've got these mobile groups of infantry who are on foot with these kind of light spears.
And so they just massacre them like sort of stuck pigs in the marsh.
And this happens again and again.
So basically the Teutonic Knights, every summer, they will go on a raid somewhere into Lithuania or Samagishia.
and every summer the Lithuanians will sort of run away
and they'll you know the Teutonic Knights will establish a fort
and they often will bring foreign knights with them
you know foreign volunteers including quite a lot of volunteers from England and Scotland
they'll establish some stockade you know made of wood
but then as the weather gets worse the Lithuanians will come back
and they'll attack this stockade
and by this time all the knights are completely miserable and all want to go home
and they'll just give up and either get massacred or run away,
and the Lithuanians have got the territory back again.
So it's kind of this hit-and-run asymmetric warfare
where there's just no hope of them making any kind of permanent inroads into Lithuania.
And, of course, the Lithuanians have got this vast hinterland
of these former Kievan-Rus principalities that they have got the funds from,
so they can fund all these kind of military resistance, if you like,
against the Teutonic Knights.
So it's a stalemate.
I think that this is a really fun one because it absolutely turns the Western European military prowess on its head, right?
Because it does you no good to be on a giant war horse completely covered in mail.
It's a terrible thing.
What you need around here is a sledge and some reindeer.
And it's just, it's very funny just to kind of think about these guys kind of floundering.
But we do eventually, despite the centuries effectively,
of this tit for tat back and forth, guerrilla fighting, have a turning point that Christians
like to crow about that comes to us in 1387. Can you tell us a little bit about the official story,
the official conversion? Well, it doesn't happen in the way that you might expect,
given the story that we've had so far, because you might expect that, you know,
one side or the other would prevail against the Teutonic Knights against the Lithuanians or vice versa.
But in fact, it's a bit more complicated than that. By this point, there is a Lithuanian Grand Duke,
whose name is Yergaela. And Yergaela finds that he is being pressed on both sides by Muscovy,
Orthodox Muscovy to the east and the Teutonic Knights as well to the west. And he makes a
fateful decision that the only way that Lithuania can really survive,
and the only way that he can survive is by making an alliance with the closest thing he can find to a neutral power.
So a power which, you know, they hate the Teutonic Knights and they hate Muscovy.
And those people are the Poles.
Because it just so happens, the king of Poland has died.
He has left behind him, Yadviga, his daughter, and she is an eligible spinster.
looking for a husband and the Polish nobility desperately want her to have a husband because
they think that, you know, she can't rule properly if she doesn't have a husband. And so,
Yagyla basically says to the Poles, I will have myself baptized, I will have my entire nation
baptized if I can marry Yad Viga and become king of Poland in a union with Poland. This is known as
the Union of Cravo. Now, the Union of Cravo is very mysterious because we don't fully understand,
the nature of what was being agreed to. The wording is very ambiguous. Is it a purely
dynastic union? Is it that your Geyla is only expecting to remain king of Poland for the duration
of his life? A bit like Philip of Spain remaining King of England for as long as he's married
to marry the first or something like that. But no, it's unclear. Or is this some kind of
more intimate kind of union, political union between Poland and Lithuania? Well, that's not fully
sorted out until 1569. But what matters for our story is that Yagyla has committed himself to one
particular kind of monotheism. He has said, I'm going to be a Roman Catholic, but specifically a
Polish kind of Roman Catholic. I am not going to accept any intervention by the Teutonic Knights.
So he has himself baptized in Krakow, he gets married to Yadviga, and the two return to Lithuania,
Vilnius in February 1387. Now, what happens here is that Yagyla holds a kind of set piece event,
a conversion event, modeled on those sort of public conversion events that you read about in
earlier medieval history, where a king will accept the Christian faith and then invite his people
to join him, you know, as a display of their loyalty to him, they will receive baptism. The way that
they do this is that they get a bunch of Lithuanians. I mean, presumably this is only a few hundred
people. They're not talking vast numbers of people. And they are gathered into big squares
of men and women. And then Polish priests who can't speak a word of Lithuanian turn up with
these big Aspergilia, which are these big holy water shakers. And they walk up and down and they
baptize everybody in a square group. You're all John. Your name is John. All the women. Your
name is Catherine, you know, shaking the baptismal water over them. Meanwhile, these poor Lithuanians
have no idea what's going on. But the reason they've turned up is that your gaily has offered them
all a white woollen robe, the robe of the newly baptized, if they accept baptism. Well,
you're probably not going to say to that, no to that, free clothes. And so they've come down for
free clothes. The temple of Perquinas is cleansed. So the idol is taken away. The Franciscans, who are
already there, of course, they have a monastery in Vilnius. They take that as a trophy. And that
building that was originally built as a cathedral by Mindalgas is turned back into a cathedral. We know
that happens, and it is there to this day. It's still there, somewhere hidden within the neoclassical
building, which is Vilnius Cathedral. Absolutely remarkable building. Basically, the cremation
site, Shventiragis, is destroyed. The people are ordered by Yagyla to go and cut down some of the
sacred trees to prove that the gods have no power, to kill some of the sacred animals,
to prove that that taboo doesn't hold. And Yagyla himself actually has to preach the Christian
faith, because he's the only person there who can speak Lithuwait.
Although by this time he's changed his name. So he's called Wadiswav the second Yegiwa.
So he is king of Poland, adopting a Polish name. And he becomes the father of the so-called
Yegdalenian dynasty, which rules Poland until the second half of the 16th century.
So, yeah, it's a set piece.
I think the way we are to understand this, this is advertising, this is marketing.
It does not represent a sincere or complete conversion of the Lithuanian people in any way,
shape or form, as subsequent events will show.
I mean, that is, I think, the crux of the matter, right?
because there's this tendency to wish to portray things like this as,
oh, and then, you know, on a dime, suddenly we're all Christian.
You know, here's a group of people who probably don't even know what's going on.
They're just like, hey, free clothes, you know.
And also free wool clothes, that's not nothing.
That's expensive, right?
And then it's sort of like, you're all Christian now.
And you're like, oh, okay, I don't know what that means.
You know, it's sort of a deal.
And I think there's this desire on our parts to say, well, it's sort of all or nothing,
Is this sincere or is it political?
Is this theater or is this testament to a real desire to move forward?
And I don't think that we can really tease those things apart here at all.
I think certainly for the grand majority of people who were baptized in this,
they had no idea what was happening.
And they're like, I was a great day out.
A bit weird, they put the fire out.
It's strange.
Yeah, I mean, I think Yer Gaila himself is sincere.
the extent that he has fully understood. I mean, he's been living, you know, for nearly two years
in Krakow. He's understood Christianity is a religion that upholds the power of kings and that
he is fully invested in that, you know, whether he sincerely believes in Jesus or anything is
beside the point. But, you know, he absolutely understands what Christianity is about and what
it can give him. His cousin, Vittatas, this guy who, who,
he's actually set to rule over Lithuania on his behalf, I don't think he is quite understood,
you know, or doesn't see the point in the same way that Ugyla does.
Vita Thas has had himself baptized. He's actually been baptized three times, which in itself,
I think, shows he hasn't fully understood, but he is much more willing to compromise with local beliefs.
So, for example, in the 1420s, so this is after the conversion of Samagishia, the westernmost
province of Lithuania, which is the most pagan, the most resistant to any kind of rapprochement with
Christianity. In the 1420s, a missionary, some random guy from Prague, goes up to try and convert
the Samagishians, and he's very zealous and, you know, wants to cut down every sacred tree
and kill every sacred elk or whatever. And the local people, they go to Vitaltas and they
say, well, he can't cut down our sacred trees or our sacred groves because we haven't got any
churches. And so how will we worship God except that our sacred trees and our sacred groves?
And Vita Tass says, yeah, all right, that's fair enough. He's going over the top.
I forbid you from cutting down the sacred trees and the sacred groves. Now, this is a guy who is
publicly a Christian, but he's right in a way, you know, he's absolutely right that what the church
has failed to do in Lithuania, they've done the kind of big set piece train.
if you like, for Christianisation, but they have failed to follow through on the hard work of
building churches, training clergy so that they can actually speak the Lithuanian language and
therefore catacized and communicate the Christian faith. And they just haven't got any kind of
personnel who can establish parishes or diocese or any of the kind of the paraphernalia
of late medieval Christianity. They want the result, you know, of everybody.
being Christian, but without putting in any of the effort. And so, you know, these people are saying,
well, we're trying to do what you've asked us to do. We're trying to worship the Christian god,
Diavas, who happens also to be the name of the Baltic sky god. So that's going to be.
We're trying to worship Deaivas, but we're not quite sure. So we're just carrying on worshipping
in our sacred groves and in our holy trees. So I think that gives you a sense that this is not a
This is not, you know, you're either Christian or pagan.
And it's not a world where we can say, oh, there's Christianity on one side.
There's paganism on the other.
You cross from one team to the other.
It's not like that at all.
I mean, and I think that that is, this is a really, really important and interesting point that your book makes so well.
It's that I think that we tend to think you're all or nothing.
It's one or the other.
And we have these real problems, I think also in terms.
of desiring to call any kind of folk tradition a pagan holdover. You know, there's so much of this
where it's like, as though religion that is non-Christian is completely static, as though it's totally
conservative, it never changes, and that somebody doing something in the 15th century would be
exactly the same as someone was doing in the third century, which is, you know, ridiculous.
The things change all the time. And I think that there is a sort of desire here in terms of
looking at the sacred grows continuing to exist as resistance. You know, as, oh, no, we are simply
still so pagan in huge air quotes that we are not going to cut down these things where it's like,
this is a practicality. These are material conditions that the church didn't really look into,
you know, with earlier conversion efforts, for example, you know, other times when people from Prague
go and find some non-Christians, you know, they show up and they build churches. They show up and they
give out alms. Shout out to St. Albert.
of Prague and his mission to Palmyrania. But, you know, they do these things that really change
things for people. And here it's much more like, well, our work here is done. And nothing has really
actually been done because this is happening more at a royal level than the granular level
where things need to change. Yeah, I think that's absolutely right. I think that the fact that
this happens at this moment in the history of the Western Church is probably significant. I think that
When you look at the late 14th century, it's not necessarily the time you would select as the high point of Christian zeal within Latin Christendom.
You know, the Crusades have died down.
There is this complacency that's setting in of, you know, Christendom trium.
And I think there is this sense that all that needs to be done is to bring these people within the sphere of influence of Christendom.
And I think that's probably the best way to think of it, insofar as,
from this moment onwards, any Lithuanian pagans are sort of potential Latin Christians.
It's as though they have given their allegiance to Christendom, Latin Christendom.
And that's the important thing.
The important thing is that that has prevented them from being drawn into Orthodox Christendom,
and it's prevented them from being drawn into the sphere of the Crimean Tatars and the Muslim world.
And so that basically just means they may still be pagans, but they are effectively, you know, Catholics by allegiance.
And you'll get these visitations, you know, when bishops will travel around the Diocese of Vilnius, which the Dioces of Vilnius includes most of what is now Lithuania and the entire country of Belarus, as it is today.
So a bit of a unmanageable diocese.
They'll travel around this dioces, this ludicrous dioces.
And people will say to them, yeah, yeah, I don't eat meat on Fridays.
Yeah, absolutely. I've learned that. I don't eat meat on Fridays. Yeah, I venerate the holy host. In fact, I've got one at home. I took it from church and I worship it as a God. It's alongside my household deities. And so you get this kind of Christianesque religion. That's the word I use in my book. Christianesque in the sense of people who have come into contact with Christianity. They have made an accommodation with Christianity. They have incorporated individual elements of Christianity.
Christianity into their worldview. For example, the consecrated host is holy. Jesus is a holy person. God,
the Father is a holy person. Mary is a holy person. The church is a source of power. The priest is a
holy man. He can do magic. And yet there is no understanding there of, you know, the Christian God is the
only God. The other gods aren't real. I should worship only the Christian God. I should go to church
every Sunday and learn the catechism and understand the Bible, all this sort of stuff, that's
non-existent basically. And so what you've got is a kind of pre-Christian religion that has
incorporated by way of briculage all these kind of elements of Christianity into it, but without
any understanding of the whole. That's why I talk about Creole religions, the idea of a kind of a new
religion that has been made from bits and pieces of two pre-existing ones.
I absolutely love when this happens.
You know, we get kind of cool examples of this, for example, when the Vikings
Christianized, you know, and you've got these great sagas where people are Christians,
but for whatever reason, Thor is there.
You know, we haven't quite got ready to get rid of the pantheon.
We still like these guys.
And I think that these things are so important because it shows us a bit more about how
practice takes a while to catch up with theory.
And I have no doubt that were we to find Latvian from this time, they would tell you
that they were Christian, but it's not necessarily so that their practice would mirror,
you know, what's happening in Rome, for example, that kind of thing.
Yeah, yeah, absolutely.
And I think that one of the key differences, when you look at Lithuania, that is to say,
the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, this vast territory, not what we think of as Lithuania today,
which is quite a small country, this vast territory, there's no systematic attempt to convert it
ever, right? There's no state-driven, there's no elite-driven, there's no royally-driven
campaign to convert. And that's a contrast with Sweden and Norway. So Sweden and Norway,
you've got the Sami, who we already mentioned, who are living in the far north of Sweden and
Norway, you know, extensive royal efforts centrally driven are mounted to try and convert these
people. Likewise in Muscovy, what becomes Russia, you know, intense efforts driven by the Tsar
that these Muslims must be converted, these animists must be converted, everybody must be
orthodox, you cannot be Russian unless you are orthodox, all that sort of stuff. You know,
in Spain, likewise, you know, when the Canary Islands are conquered in the 15th century, these people
must be Catholic, otherwise they cannot be Spanish. And of course, what happens in the new world.
But in Poland, Lithuania, which I think at this point, we can start talking about Poland,
Lithuania with a hyphen, because you've got this sort of strange union between the two countries,
there isn't anything like that. And it's to do with this peculiar political constitution of Poland,
Lithuania, which will become the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, that it doesn't have a centralized,
and effective royal authority. It just doesn't exist. The nobility, individual nobles,
who can be of quite low, you know, social rank and yet have noble status.
They have a great deal of local power.
There are these individual assemblies and parliaments and all sorts of kind of local traditions
and privileges.
And the only people who are interested in converting is not the secular authorities who have no interest whatsoever,
but the church.
And the church is just not up to the job.
You know, it's not until much later.
at the end of the 16th century that the Jesuit order come in, that they actually start to make headway.
But these earlier attempts, basically a bunch of Polish priests who don't want to be there.
It is the worst job in the world.
If you imagine that, you know, you could be enjoying a cozy canonry in Krakow.
And suddenly, you know, you're being sent to a bog in the middle of Lithuania where everybody's sacrificing to Pekeunas.
I mean, there's no money in it.
You know, there's no lifestyle, there's no remuneration. And this is, again, a period of the late medieval church when the church has become quite financially focused, you know, on cultivating the tides of the people and all this kind of stuff. And that infrastructure, that ecclesiastical infrastructure, it does not exist. And so most of the clergy who are being sent out there are drunks and, you know, good for nothings. They're the last people, the kind of the rejects of the Polish church, who are capable of carrying out this conversion.
I just, it's kind of amusing to this point.
The church has so many issues, you know, across Europe.
I mean, you got, who's sites in Bohemia?
What is the point of going up to the bog?
I mean, there's no tithes in it for you either.
You know, it is the mission in theory, which they should be concerned with.
But, you know, the church is a corporation as much as it is anything, really, you know.
Yeah.
Look, I mean, to kind of try to bring this to more of a close.
I guess I've got a philosophical question for you.
Your book is called Silums of the Gods.
But are the gods silenced?
I wouldn't say that this is kind of like a sweeping silencing that habit.
At least certainly not within the medieval purview of your work.
Yeah, I mean, I think the reason I chose that title was because there's so much we don't know.
And it's not really the silence of the gods. It's the silence of the people who worshipped those gods that we're constantly confronted with. And so it serves as a metaphor, I suppose, for that silence, that human silence. Yeah, but you're absolutely right that this does not end in the Middle Ages. This is not over. Absolutely not. It certainly doesn't end in 1387. In fact, we can find reports of essentially quite recognizable pre-critical.
Christian practices, such as the worship of sacred trees, in Lithuania, going right up into the late
18th century. And I would argue that when it comes to Lithuania, it's not really until the partition
of Poland, Lithuania, the final partition in 1795, when Lithuania becomes part of the Russian
empire, that the Lithuanians decide to go all in and identify with Catholicism. Because once your
identity is threatened by an alien power which has a different religion, Russian orthodoxy,
and wants to russify you and turn you into something that you're not, you're going to
go for the strongest cultural force, the strongest organization, the one organization that
still survives from the former time, and that is the Catholic Church. And so when you look
at, you know, the leaders of the Lithuanian National Revival, leaders of resistance movements,
very often they were Catholic priests. And Lithuanian Catholicism becomes this deeply kind
syncretic construction. You know, when you look at Lithuanian Catholicism today, still so many
elements that you can look at it and say, oh yeah, I can see the sort of, you know, the pagan
antecedents for that. And yet, I think by that point, Lithuania is all in on Catholicism
because of that identity, you know, very much like the Poles, all in on Catholicism,
because it's become a mainstay of national identity. But in Lithuania, it happens very, very late.
And likewise, you know, when you look at the Sami, for example, by the, by, you know,
the 18th century, the Sami have started to internalize Christianity. In other words, they've
started to see slightly deviant forms of Christianity, like sort of revivalist, charismatic
forms of Christianity, as a better way of resisting colonialism than their own traditions, because
their own traditions are being forgotten. There's this kind of cultural attrition where over
time, you will lose memory, you will lose cultural memory. But if somebody who is themselves,
you know, from the Sami community introduces you to ecstatic forms of pietist Lutheranism
that are different from the kind that the state is trying to push on you, then you might go with
that new form of Christianity as your sort of center of identity rather than those disappearing
traditions. But even so, I mean, when you look at Estonia, Estonia, for example, there never really is
an identification with Christianity in Estonia.
I mean, gradually, most people end up being either Orthodox or Lutheran or Catholic in
Latgalae, but there isn't really this kind of profound identification.
And I think when you go to modern Estonia, you see that, that religion doesn't really have
the kind of place in Estonia that it does in many other countries of Europe where there's
a national religion that's kind of bound up with the spirit of the people or whatever.
Estonia, I think it's probably the easiest country in Europe to say that you're pagan,
because the Estonians were pagan for so long.
And likewise, when you go to certain parts of Russia, which sadly I have not been to,
I would love to, but circumstances being what they are, it's unlikely.
But, you know, Mariel, for example, on the Volga, you've got this small kind of republic
within the Russian Federation where they quite openly and officially identify as being pagans.
And, you know, elements of that are a revival.
Elements of that are a recovery of identity,
but elements of that genuinely have persisted.
And they did, you know, manage to survive this kind of attempt at rustification.
I think that this is a really important point
and perhaps that we need to kind of grab on since I've kept you here for so long.
But I think that there is a kind of tendency,
both because of the romanticization that we've had surrounding pagan religion,
to say, okay, well, we need to look for some kind of antecedents in pure form, a pure form of paganism that existed or these traditions that have definitively survived.
You know, as opposed to kind of our desire to say, oh, yeah, but it's not really historically accurate.
But I suppose if we look at it as a living religion, which it is for some of these people, yeah, well, things do change, don't they?
And we do invent new traditions all the time.
And we do create new ways of doing things.
So there is, I think, this quite interesting new paganism that is happening that has some, you know, historical basis.
But, you know, I'm not sure that, you know, things would have stayed static even without forced Christianization, you know, from the 14th century.
I mean, my comment took a really long time ago when you think about it.
Yeah.
As you say, there are thriving native faith movements, as they're often known, within many of these countries.
So you've got Romova in Lithuania, you've got Giefturi in Latvia, Marsulet in Estonia, for example, and the Mariel, traditional revival, neo-shamanism amongst the Sami.
These are, you know, fascinating religious developments, and I'm fascinated by new religious movements.
they are to a large extent
kind of reconstructive.
They're an attempt to almost reverse engineer folklore.
So you're going to take the large body of folklore
that was recorded in the 19th and 20th centuries
and to pick out what you think from that folklore
might probably be pagan
and then screen out the stuff that's Christian.
Now obviously that's a highly subjective process.
And there are individuals who were folklorists and scholars
who kind of were involved in those movements and did that.
And I think what you've created there is something which is going to appeal to a certain
number of people, but probably won't ever have kind of majority appeal.
But I think when you look at the broader cultures within these countries,
there is a broad identification with the pre-Christian worldview,
which doesn't require people to say, oh, you know, I'm a pagan,
or, you know, I'm a member of this revivalist organization, and we all dress up
and we perform rituals on a hill. Some people do, but most people don't. In most cases, it's just a sense
that your identity is complex and it has overlapping elements. And some of those elements may be
Christian and some of those elements may be pre-Christian. I've spoken to Sami people, for example,
in the far north of Norway, who they would identify themselves as Lutheran Christians.
and yet they have an understanding of the importance of the CED, that is to say, the Sami sacred site,
that there are certain sites where when traveling through the landscape, you would never leave litter,
you would never camp, you would never light a fire there because they are a sacred site.
And they don't see that as being inconsistent with or in conflict with their identity as Christian.
And I think most people have these overlapping identities, and they're quite at easy.
ease with those overlapping identities. It's the same with Lithuanians. You know, many Lithuanians
will identify as Catholic or culturally Catholic, but have no problem with engaging in dances and
rituals and things which are very much of a sort of pre-Christian flavour in Lithuanian culture.
So, yeah, I think that the future is probably that, you know, both elements will remain.
You know, the sort of the later Christian identification, but also these pre-Christian identities
and that, yeah, they will remain part of a kind of a composite identity, which is crucial in many cases to these countries, because it is what defines them against what they were forced to be under Soviet occupation, in the case of the Baltic states, and how they preserve their identity under that occupation.
But political freedom obviously does give the possibility of more objective evaluations of some of this history.
and hopefully that's what I've managed to do
is to kind of give an honest appraisal
of what we can know historically
about these religious traditions.
Francis, I cannot thank you enough
for having written a really excellent
and engaging book on subject matter
that I think is way too often overlooked,
but also just so fun.
My God, is this an interesting work
and something that I really hope
people pick up and read.
And thank you so much for coming on today
to talk about it.
Well, thank you, Ellen. It's been lovely to talk to you.
Thanks to Frances Young and to you for listening to Gone Medieval from History Hit.
If you want to know more about attempts to Christianize the Baltics,
why not check out our previous episode on the Teutonic Knights?
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