The social hierarchy of medieval Danish cemeteries

(CN) — New archaeological research suggests medieval Danes may have been more open-minded than previously thought.

In medieval Denmark, social standing was essential, even in death. Wealthy individuals secured burial plots in coveted locations, aiming to eternally rest as close as possible to church buildings. But could contracting feared diseases like leprosy or tuberculosis, which often resulted in social ostracism, limit individuals from finding their final resting place in these prestigious places?

A team led by Dr. Saige Kelmelis of the University of South Dakota, alongside colleagues from the University of Southern Denmark, examined nearly a thousand skeletons from five medieval cemeteries dating between approximately 1050 and 1536. Their goal was to explore whether people suffering from highly stigmatized illnesses faced segregation, even in death.

Some of the most popular imagery of medieval times involves casting out the sick. Upon starting this research project, Kelmelis, the paper’s lead author, couldn’t help but think of the iconic plague cart scene from the film “Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” in which a man pushes a cart piled high with bodies at the peak of a plague pandemic, calling, “Bring out your dead!”

“I think this image depicts our ideas of how people in the past — and in some cases today — respond to debilitating diseases,” she said.

Leprosy, with its stark physical signs such as facial lesions and ulcers or discolored patches of skin, made it difficult to conceal. As pervasive as the disease was, infecting nearly 1 in 30 at its peak, it was frequently associated with sin or impurity.

Although tuberculosis was less outwardly visible and can lie undetected for years, it was widely regarded as a virtual death sentence. Medieval medicine lacked the knowledge and technology we have today, so a diagnosis often sparked intense fear in communities worried about the spread of infection.

Especially when it came to death, the social hierarchy of medieval times was imperative. It was common practice for the wealthy or elite to purchase burial sites as close as possible to, or even within, the church building. Historical records indicate that benefactors, clergy members and knights had the privilege to be buried in closer proximity to divinity.

To investigate how these illnesses affected burial practices, both urban and rural cemeteries were studied. The inclusion of both town and countryside sites allowed comparisons between rural communities and densely populated areas, where infectious diseases spread more easily.

First skeletal signs of leprosy and tuberculosis were identified in the 939 examined skeletons, and then those skeletons’ exact burial locations were mapped. Across most of the cemeteries, researchers found no consistent pattern suggesting that individuals with leprosy or tuberculosis were pushed into lower-status burial areas. In fact, individuals with those diseases were often buried among everyone else or even in areas traditionally associated with higher status, almost as if they had never contracted an illness.

The study’s findings, published Thursday in Frontiers in Environmental Archaeology, revealed a far more nuanced reality than that depicted in the media: The sick weren’t just cast aside after death.

Maybe it’s because diseases like tuberculosis were so incredibly widespread. At the urban cemetery of Drotten, Denmark, for example, more than half of the individuals examined showed signs of tuberculosis, and nearly half were buried in higher-status locations. Surprisingly, those with tuberculosis appeared to have survived longer than individuals without skeletal evidence of the disease. Researchers suggest that people who could afford prominent burials may also have had access to better living conditions, enabling them to live long enough for the disease to leave marks on their bones.

Skeletal analysis can’t detect every case of disease, the research emphasizes, as many individuals may have carried infections and died before it got so intense that bone changes occurred. Without advanced genetic testing, the full scope of the disease prevalence remains uncertain.

One urban cemetery in Ribe, Denmark, differed: About one-third of individuals interred in a less prestigious section had tuberculosis, compared with just 12% buried near the monastery or church. However, the researchers believe this disparity likely reflects differences in exposure rather than deliberate exclusion. Those buried in the less prestigious area likely interacted with one another, spreading the disease in turn.

The findings certainly offer a more human perspective of medieval Danish communities. While status mattered, sickness didn’t automatically erase it.

“Our study reveals that medieval communities were variable in their responses and in their makeup,” Kelmelis said. “For several communities, those who were sick were buried alongside their neighbors and given the same treatment as anyone else.”