Elisabeth of Thuringia: Female self-determination in the Middle Ages

Female self-determination in the Middle Ages. Remembering the landgravine and saint Elisabeth of Thuringia

The misty November is the month that most clearly heralds the end of a cycle. Both the Catholic and Protestant churches commemorate their saints, the departed souls or deceased. The month of fog heralds the time of inner reflection and prepares people for the candlelight of Advent and the pre-Christmas period in December. November is also the month on which the Landgravine Elisabeth of Thuringia (1207-1231) is commemorated. During her lifetime, her devout and rigorous attitude to life as well as her selfless and charitable acts of kindness achieved the widespread homage of an exemplary "new saint". For the most part, women in the Middle Ages were condemned to a marginalised existence in a male-dominated world: underage and unfree. The emerging orders of mendicants and preachers - Franciscans and Dominicans - were now joined in droves by laymen who were looking for a new way of life based on morality and justice as well as religious orientation. Women, who also wanted to be religiously active but not live in seclusion, formed the communities of the Beguines. What they all had in common was a strict apostolic ideal of poverty, humility, chastity and Christian charity. The beguines lived together in beguinages as a community of women who were not subject to a monastery or religious order, at most under its protectorate. They devoted themselves exclusively to active charity, asceticism and devotional practices. Although they were not economically secure in this organisation, they were at least independent by medieval standards. Elisabeth, who had shown a pronounced religiousness since her childhood in Hungary, came into contact with the Beguine movement at an early age and eventually also dedicated her life entirely to this radical concept of poverty and charity. She was therefore very much a "child of her time". As the 4-year-old daughter of a king, she was brought to the Thuringian court as the future wife of the landgrave's son. This was not unusual; the betrothed were supposed to get to know each other at an early age, grow up together and thus pave the way for a harmonious marriage. The special character traits that characterise the adult Elisabeth and make her such an exceptional woman of the Middle Ages were already evident in her childhood: the unyielding strength to follow her principles and the courage to neither soften nor discard her differences when it came to her own substance. But also her playful stubbornness to circumvent many a prohibition in order to remain true to herself. Pompous courtly pleasures were just as repugnant to her as luxurious jewellery, clothing or pomp. She preferred to devote her attention to prayer or helping the poor and needy. This emphatic rejection of the self-evident world of her social class was a living criticism of the court, which of course offended and earned her disapproval everywhere she went. But she laughed it off and stood up for her point of view. During his lifetime, she received encouragement from her husband, Landgrave Ludwig of Thuringia, and her confessor, the crusading preacher Konrad von Marburg. Much has been written about this controversial figure in Elisabeth's life. The labels range from an uncompromising confessor who demanded complete submission from her and did not stop at outbursts of violence, to a dogmatic inquisitor who ensured that hundreds of people met an agonising end at the stake. On the other hand, he acted as an advocate in favour of Elisabeth's widow's inheritance and pushed forward the process for her canonisation after her death. Alongside her husband, who died young, this priest became the only constant in Elisabeth's material life. It was precisely this strong influence that caused mutual tensions at court to escalate; Elisabeth left Wartburg Castle and spent the coming winter in the poorest of conditions. The widow's allowance she received thanks to Conrad's mediation was ultimately used as a fortune to found a hospital in Marburg, where she worked as a simple nurse until her death, performing hard labour without fear of contact and specifically tackling the worst cases of leprosy or crippling illnesses and providing care and comfort to children in particular. 785 years have passed since her death on 17 November 1231, and she is still remembered with admiration - not only on 19 November, the annual Protestant memorial day and the day of her funeral. Each era has formed its own image of Elisabeth. Whether "new saint", loving wife or displaced widow, whether hospital nurse, critical rebel or charitable landgravine - first and foremost she was a woman. A woman who chose a rigorous and intense life path for herself in a world in which female self-determination was neither customary nor desired. It still isn't, even after 785 years.

Maren Gündel, City Archive