The wooden tub, more than 3 feet in diameter and nearly as deep, would have held a full-sized man or woman. Chemical analysis revealed that the dark, smelly residue inside was composed of animal fats and various plants – herbs, seeds, even flowers – that had decomposed into a viscous, unguent-like material.
In an age when bathing was considered not just a luxury but potentially dangerous to one’s health, this wooden tub and the concoction it contained offered scientists a rare window into the world of medieval hygiene and the conflicted world of 11th-century England.
“At the time this was deposited in the mid- to late 1000s, England is undergoing a really fundamental change in the way that it defines itself and sees its place in Europe and the wider world,” said Richard Jones, an archaeologist with the University of Central Lancashire who led the excavations at the site. “The presence of this tub, the herbs, the spices – it’s just a microcosm of the sorts of changes and stresses and strains” roiling the society of the time.
The tub was unearthed in the heart of Lincoln’s medieval Jewish quarter, near a former Benedictine monastery. Radiocarbon dating indicates the tub was deposited between 1050 and 1150.
That period marked the beginning of a dramatic upheaval in English history. In 1066, William the Conqueror, the Duke of Normandy, successfully invaded England, defeating the Anglo-Saxon forces of King Harold II at the Battle of Hastings. The Norman Conquest, as it is known, brought French language and culture to England and ushered in a period of intense social, economic and political transformation.
For England’s small Jewish minority, the Norman Conquest seemed to hold promise. The Normans were more familiar with Jews and their customs than the Anglo-Saxon rulers had been. For a time, the new Norman aristocracy became protectors of the Jews, recognizing their value in trade, money lending and craftsmanship.
But the relative peace and security that English Jews experienced under the early Norman kings ended abruptly in the late 11th century. In 1189, a wave of anti-Semitic fervor swept across England, driven by religious fanaticism and economic resentment, that culminated in a massacre of Jews in York and a wave of violence against Jewish communities in other parts of England.
The wooden tub and its pungent contents – likely some kind of ointment, salve or balm – bear witness to this turbulent time. The herbs, spices and other plants carefully mixed into the concoction were most like intended for medicinal use. And the mixture of animal fat and plant matter is similar to recipes found in medieval medical texts.
But the significance of the tub extends beyond its possible therapeutic uses. Its presence in Lincoln’s Jewish quarter suggests that Jews who lived there had access to rare and exotic ingredients from across Europe and the Mediterranean, reflecting their extensive connections to international trading networks.
The location of the tub, near a Christian monastic order, also hints at the porous boundaries between different religious communities in this period. The Benedictine monks could have supplied rare herbs and spices used in the ointment’s preparation. And there is evidence that Jews used the Benedictine hospital in Lincoln.
Overall, the wooden tub and its contents offer a glimpse into a complex and multifaceted society, roiled by conflict and tensions but at the same time bound by shared practices and knowledge.
