Recommended listening: Hildegard von Bingen - Voices of Angels, Voices of Ascension
Story
Have you done what certain women are accustomed to do? That is, to make some sort of device or implement in the shape of the male member, of the size to match your desire. And you have fastened it to the area of your genitals or those of another with some form of fastenings and you have fornicated with other women, or others have done with a similar instrument or another sort with you? If you have done this, you shall do penance for five years on legitimate holy days.
When I recall the kisses you gave me,
And how with tender word you caressed my little breasts,
I want to die
Because I cannot see you.
These two quotations, one from a penitential handbook and the other from erotic lesbian poetry, hint at a world history barely lets us glimpse: Sapphic relationships in early medieval Europe. References to sex and romantic affection between women are few and far between in this part of history. But the bits and pieces that are scattered throughout monastic libraries and dusty manuscripts pull the curtain back enough to show us that women who fell in love with other women did exist in this part of the world, and that their stories have not completely been lost. Our best records about them take us to the largest women-only communities in medieval Europe: Nunneries.
Like their male monk counterparts, nuns lived in communities of women gathered together in order to follow the life set out for Jesus's followers in the Acts of the Apostles: "All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they shared with anyone who was in need." For centuries, monastic men and women had tried to recreate these legendary early Christian communities by gathering together in monasteries where all property was shared. Those who followed the Benedictine Rule took vows of stability, loyalty to the monastic way of life, and obedience to the Rule. They were expected to live in complete chastity and occupy their days with good works and almost constant prayer.
In theory, these people rejected the ways of the world in order to live lives of poverty and prayer. In practice, however, nunneries were often founded by royal and aristocratic families. Princesses and widowed queens often found themselves as the masters of large and profitable monastic estates, administering them much as they would have administered their family's lands. Rich women brought dowry-like donations of land with them when they joined. Although their clothes were meant to be simple and colourless, manuscripts show us that wealthy nuns often wore resplendent colours and fabrics. Monasteries depended on continued patronage from the wealthy to support themselves, and so the lines between the cloister and the world outside could often be blurred.
Such was the case in 10th century England. Some of the country's leading religious men and women were dissatisfied with the state of observance in the country's monasteries. They felt that the standards had become far too lax, and many of the country's finest institutions had been ravaged by Viking raids. They spearheaded a reform movement that saw the revitalization of old monasteries and the foundation of many new ones. When it came to houses for nuns, the leader of this movement was Queen Ælfthryth, the widow of Edgar the Peaceful and the mother of Æthelred the Unready. The new regulations for monastic houses in England, the Regularis Concordia, made her the special protector and leader of all nuns in the country. She founded a few new nunneries, including Amesbury Abbey in Wiltshire.
Unlike many of the other abbeys in southern England, Amesbury was never sacked by the Vikings. It was established in 979 using lands that Ælfthryth had inherited from her mother-in-law Ælfgifu. Just a few miles from the ancient site of Stonehenge, Amesbury had long been a place with holy associations. After the abbey's foundation in 979, it attracted recruits from various local aristocratic families. In the past, powerful families had been able to found and support their own nunneries, but the growing centralization of royal power made them difficult to sustain. Not everyone at Amesbury would have come from such a distinguished background: Wealthy women brought some of their servants to the monastery with them, and other women were taken into the monastery through charity. But the abbesses and their closest circle would have always been of royal or aristocratic blood.
The two women in this illustration entered Amesbury Abbey as children. Many families chose daughters at birth who would be sent to the monastery once they reached the age of seven to begin their education as future nuns. The children had separate cloisters where an older nun would teach them Latin, math, music, and whatever other skills they needed to succeed in the monastery. We know from teaching manuals that children were sometimes restless and would rather be playing in the orchards than sitting in the classroom. The orchard also doubled as the monastery's graveyard. Trees bearing fruit and nuts would be planted around the graves to feed the community, although the bulk of their food came from farms on the abbey's estates elsewhere in the country.
We know from early medieval penitentials that churchmen were concerned about the sexual morality of nuns. Men, of course, posed certain dangers when they came as visitors or as priests assigned to perform sacraments for the women. But the women were also thought to pose a danger to each other. Certain monks and bishops wrote penitentials, which were guidelines for assigning penance for the sins a priest might come across when hearing his parishioner's confessions. These penitentials show us what sins the Church thought people might be committing and how seriously they took them. Male homosexuality is much better represented in these texts, with penances depending on the age and clerical status of the offender (younger men were given more leniency for sodomy, and monks were held to higher standards than laymen). Sex between women, when it did appear in the penitentials, was usually given lighter penances. The exception was when women used an "implement" to penetrate each other. Women who did this were given harsher penances: Not only were they acting on an "unnatural" desire for another woman, but they were subverting the natural gendered order by taking on the role of a man in sex.
One penitential, attributed to the famous theologian and historian the Venerable Bede, demonstrates this discrepancy. Monks who had sex with each other were assigned four years of penance, while nuns who had sex with each other were only assigned three. But if the women used an implement, their penance was seven years - the two sentences combined. For a woman to try to perform the social role of a man in any capacity was highly frowned upon in medieval European society. These rules also show us that male writers did not seem to be able to imagine lesbian sex that didn't involve some facsimile of a penis. While the rules against different types of sodomy are often extremely detailed about the different ways men might interact with each other sexually, rules against sex between women are usually very vague except for when they include dildos. Since these texts were written by men who were supposed to be celibate and often lived in all-male communities, it is perhaps not too surprising that they were unable to conceive of sexual acts that didn't centre the phallus.
But there is another side to the story. A few erotic poems exchanged between women survive in 12th century monastic collections from Bavaria, an excerpt of which is quoted above. Women wrote of their longing for each other and of the intimate moments they shared together. Other times nuns fell in love but may never have acted on their attractions: Hildegard von Bingen, for example, was in love with Richardis, one of the nuns in her monastery, but also writes scathingly of lesbian sex in her own works. We can never know if she was writing self-loathingly of her own experiences, or if she considered romantic and sexual affections to be so separate that she felt no guilt over her love for Richardis. Aelred of Rievaulx, a 12th century English monk, writes of the spiritual pain his past as a sexually active gay man caused him, and warns his sister that she should be aware that other women can tempt her in the monastery just as much as visiting men can. The struggle of recognising their own gay attractions coupled with their deep belief in a religion that taught it was wrong must have caused pain to countless queer Christians throughout history, as it still does to many today.
At the same time, the punishments for homosexual behaviour in these penitentials is incredibly light compared to the criminalization seen in later medieval societies. Penances like the ones prescribed in these penitentials called for fasting on feast days and other parts of the year when fasting was not normally required. Any number of sins carried the same punishments, so it was not as if the "transgression" would have been publicly known from the penance alone. In later medieval Europe, people were executed for engaging in sexual relations that fell outside the heterosexual marriage norm. While the guilt and shame of confessing to the "sin" of having homosexual sex must have been very difficult for early medieval queer people to bear, their society was much more forgiving of homosexuality than some of its successors in Europe would be.
Furthermore, monasteries provided an alternative to heterosexual marriage, which must have appealed to queer people whether they were gay, bisexual or asexual. Not everyone chose the monastic life, but for those who ended up in it, it might have provided a haven from the expectation that they marry when their preferences lay elsewhere. And when it came to sexual relations between women, relationships could often fly under the radar of the male-dominated and male-centric authorities. Most penitentials that mention gay male sex make no mention of sex between women, and very few women were persecuted for sodomy compared to men throughout the European Middle Ages. It was certainly not a good time to be a lesbian (or a gay man) compared to today's Europe, but the past is not a monolith, either: Things could get worse before they got better.
The lovers in this illustration grew up in Amesbury Abbey together. Their families dedicated them to the monastery when they were seven years old, setting them up for a life of prayer and study. As children, they looked longingly to the orchard during Latin lessons, waiting for a chance to break free and play. Abbess Heahpled had ruled the abbey their entire times there, busy every day with royal correspondences and managing the abbey's estates. There must have been times when no one else was looking, and the girls could slip away to the orchard together. How many nuns fell in love with each other stealing glances during compline, or sharing a stifled laugh during mealtimes? How many gazes lingered on other women while they sang, read, or copied manuscripts together? In spite of being founded as part of a Benedictine monastic reform, Amesbury Abbey was not exactly known for its strict discipline over the years, with nuns and abbesses receiving pardons throughout the Middle Ages for fornication and gambling. Perhaps Abbess Heahpled would have been furious to find two of her nuns kissing in the orchard, but others may not have cared enough to point it out. The stories of women like these, who lived their lives in close companionship whether in group worship or in stolen moments together, are mostly lost to history. But they are not entirely lost, and that is why it is so important to share the evidence and tell what we can of their stories today.
When I recall the kisses you gave me,
And how with tender word you caressed my little breasts,
I want to die
Because I cannot see you.
These two quotations, one from a penitential handbook and the other from erotic lesbian poetry, hint at a world history barely lets us glimpse: Sapphic relationships in early medieval Europe. References to sex and romantic affection between women are few and far between in this part of history. But the bits and pieces that are scattered throughout monastic libraries and dusty manuscripts pull the curtain back enough to show us that women who fell in love with other women did exist in this part of the world, and that their stories have not completely been lost. Our best records about them take us to the largest women-only communities in medieval Europe: Nunneries.
Like their male monk counterparts, nuns lived in communities of women gathered together in order to follow the life set out for Jesus's followers in the Acts of the Apostles: "All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they shared with anyone who was in need." For centuries, monastic men and women had tried to recreate these legendary early Christian communities by gathering together in monasteries where all property was shared. Those who followed the Benedictine Rule took vows of stability, loyalty to the monastic way of life, and obedience to the Rule. They were expected to live in complete chastity and occupy their days with good works and almost constant prayer.
In theory, these people rejected the ways of the world in order to live lives of poverty and prayer. In practice, however, nunneries were often founded by royal and aristocratic families. Princesses and widowed queens often found themselves as the masters of large and profitable monastic estates, administering them much as they would have administered their family's lands. Rich women brought dowry-like donations of land with them when they joined. Although their clothes were meant to be simple and colourless, manuscripts show us that wealthy nuns often wore resplendent colours and fabrics. Monasteries depended on continued patronage from the wealthy to support themselves, and so the lines between the cloister and the world outside could often be blurred.
Such was the case in 10th century England. Some of the country's leading religious men and women were dissatisfied with the state of observance in the country's monasteries. They felt that the standards had become far too lax, and many of the country's finest institutions had been ravaged by Viking raids. They spearheaded a reform movement that saw the revitalization of old monasteries and the foundation of many new ones. When it came to houses for nuns, the leader of this movement was Queen Ælfthryth, the widow of Edgar the Peaceful and the mother of Æthelred the Unready. The new regulations for monastic houses in England, the Regularis Concordia, made her the special protector and leader of all nuns in the country. She founded a few new nunneries, including Amesbury Abbey in Wiltshire.
Unlike many of the other abbeys in southern England, Amesbury was never sacked by the Vikings. It was established in 979 using lands that Ælfthryth had inherited from her mother-in-law Ælfgifu. Just a few miles from the ancient site of Stonehenge, Amesbury had long been a place with holy associations. After the abbey's foundation in 979, it attracted recruits from various local aristocratic families. In the past, powerful families had been able to found and support their own nunneries, but the growing centralization of royal power made them difficult to sustain. Not everyone at Amesbury would have come from such a distinguished background: Wealthy women brought some of their servants to the monastery with them, and other women were taken into the monastery through charity. But the abbesses and their closest circle would have always been of royal or aristocratic blood.
The two women in this illustration entered Amesbury Abbey as children. Many families chose daughters at birth who would be sent to the monastery once they reached the age of seven to begin their education as future nuns. The children had separate cloisters where an older nun would teach them Latin, math, music, and whatever other skills they needed to succeed in the monastery. We know from teaching manuals that children were sometimes restless and would rather be playing in the orchards than sitting in the classroom. The orchard also doubled as the monastery's graveyard. Trees bearing fruit and nuts would be planted around the graves to feed the community, although the bulk of their food came from farms on the abbey's estates elsewhere in the country.
We know from early medieval penitentials that churchmen were concerned about the sexual morality of nuns. Men, of course, posed certain dangers when they came as visitors or as priests assigned to perform sacraments for the women. But the women were also thought to pose a danger to each other. Certain monks and bishops wrote penitentials, which were guidelines for assigning penance for the sins a priest might come across when hearing his parishioner's confessions. These penitentials show us what sins the Church thought people might be committing and how seriously they took them. Male homosexuality is much better represented in these texts, with penances depending on the age and clerical status of the offender (younger men were given more leniency for sodomy, and monks were held to higher standards than laymen). Sex between women, when it did appear in the penitentials, was usually given lighter penances. The exception was when women used an "implement" to penetrate each other. Women who did this were given harsher penances: Not only were they acting on an "unnatural" desire for another woman, but they were subverting the natural gendered order by taking on the role of a man in sex.
One penitential, attributed to the famous theologian and historian the Venerable Bede, demonstrates this discrepancy. Monks who had sex with each other were assigned four years of penance, while nuns who had sex with each other were only assigned three. But if the women used an implement, their penance was seven years - the two sentences combined. For a woman to try to perform the social role of a man in any capacity was highly frowned upon in medieval European society. These rules also show us that male writers did not seem to be able to imagine lesbian sex that didn't involve some facsimile of a penis. While the rules against different types of sodomy are often extremely detailed about the different ways men might interact with each other sexually, rules against sex between women are usually very vague except for when they include dildos. Since these texts were written by men who were supposed to be celibate and often lived in all-male communities, it is perhaps not too surprising that they were unable to conceive of sexual acts that didn't centre the phallus.
But there is another side to the story. A few erotic poems exchanged between women survive in 12th century monastic collections from Bavaria, an excerpt of which is quoted above. Women wrote of their longing for each other and of the intimate moments they shared together. Other times nuns fell in love but may never have acted on their attractions: Hildegard von Bingen, for example, was in love with Richardis, one of the nuns in her monastery, but also writes scathingly of lesbian sex in her own works. We can never know if she was writing self-loathingly of her own experiences, or if she considered romantic and sexual affections to be so separate that she felt no guilt over her love for Richardis. Aelred of Rievaulx, a 12th century English monk, writes of the spiritual pain his past as a sexually active gay man caused him, and warns his sister that she should be aware that other women can tempt her in the monastery just as much as visiting men can. The struggle of recognising their own gay attractions coupled with their deep belief in a religion that taught it was wrong must have caused pain to countless queer Christians throughout history, as it still does to many today.
At the same time, the punishments for homosexual behaviour in these penitentials is incredibly light compared to the criminalization seen in later medieval societies. Penances like the ones prescribed in these penitentials called for fasting on feast days and other parts of the year when fasting was not normally required. Any number of sins carried the same punishments, so it was not as if the "transgression" would have been publicly known from the penance alone. In later medieval Europe, people were executed for engaging in sexual relations that fell outside the heterosexual marriage norm. While the guilt and shame of confessing to the "sin" of having homosexual sex must have been very difficult for early medieval queer people to bear, their society was much more forgiving of homosexuality than some of its successors in Europe would be.
Furthermore, monasteries provided an alternative to heterosexual marriage, which must have appealed to queer people whether they were gay, bisexual or asexual. Not everyone chose the monastic life, but for those who ended up in it, it might have provided a haven from the expectation that they marry when their preferences lay elsewhere. And when it came to sexual relations between women, relationships could often fly under the radar of the male-dominated and male-centric authorities. Most penitentials that mention gay male sex make no mention of sex between women, and very few women were persecuted for sodomy compared to men throughout the European Middle Ages. It was certainly not a good time to be a lesbian (or a gay man) compared to today's Europe, but the past is not a monolith, either: Things could get worse before they got better.
The lovers in this illustration grew up in Amesbury Abbey together. Their families dedicated them to the monastery when they were seven years old, setting them up for a life of prayer and study. As children, they looked longingly to the orchard during Latin lessons, waiting for a chance to break free and play. Abbess Heahpled had ruled the abbey their entire times there, busy every day with royal correspondences and managing the abbey's estates. There must have been times when no one else was looking, and the girls could slip away to the orchard together. How many nuns fell in love with each other stealing glances during compline, or sharing a stifled laugh during mealtimes? How many gazes lingered on other women while they sang, read, or copied manuscripts together? In spite of being founded as part of a Benedictine monastic reform, Amesbury Abbey was not exactly known for its strict discipline over the years, with nuns and abbesses receiving pardons throughout the Middle Ages for fornication and gambling. Perhaps Abbess Heahpled would have been furious to find two of her nuns kissing in the orchard, but others may not have cared enough to point it out. The stories of women like these, who lived their lives in close companionship whether in group worship or in stolen moments together, are mostly lost to history. But they are not entirely lost, and that is why it is so important to share the evidence and tell what we can of their stories today.
Artist's Comments
I was originally going to set this picture in Ireland, but I had misremembered that the penitential about the nuns using the "implement" actually came from Bede, not an Irish source! I picked Amesbury Abbey because it was not attacked by Vikings around 1000 like so many other nunneries in southern England were. I also have a personal association with the name "Amesbury" since I grew up listening to the song about the accused witch Susanna Martin who was from Amesbury, Massachussetts! Another song that inspired me while working on this was "Heathens" by Aurora - the line about stealing from the trees of Eden seemed to match the Eve-like imagery in this illustration. (Thanks to Morgan for recommending this song to me!) Medieval Europeans tended to associate the apple with the Fruit of Knowledge of Good and Evil because of a pun in Latin that made the word "apple" sound like the word for "evil". Of course, I had to suggest the OG medieval lesbian's music for the background listening, Hildegard von Bingen herself!
It is nice to finally have a picture of women kissing in the series. It was a challenge but I think the pose worked out pretty well. I wanted to convey the passion of the source material without actually drawing something explicit! The cross is based on the Gosforth Cross - I've always liked high crosses so it was fun to draw one. And to show that they were originally painted! The trees here are hazelnut (for my dog Hazel!), pear, and apple, all trees which were recommended for early medieval orchards. Thanks to Sacha for art help on this one! ~ March 16, 2022
It is nice to finally have a picture of women kissing in the series. It was a challenge but I think the pose worked out pretty well. I wanted to convey the passion of the source material without actually drawing something explicit! The cross is based on the Gosforth Cross - I've always liked high crosses so it was fun to draw one. And to show that they were originally painted! The trees here are hazelnut (for my dog Hazel!), pear, and apple, all trees which were recommended for early medieval orchards. Thanks to Sacha for art help on this one! ~ March 16, 2022
Resources
Want to learn more about medieval English lesbians and nuns? Here are some recommended resources.
"Transgressing the Boundaries of Holiness: Sexual Deviance in the Early Medieval Penitential Handbooks of Ireland, England and France 500-1000" by Christine A. McCann
This thesis has a whole section on the treatment of homosexuality in penitentials. Reading this thesis made me decide to set the picture in England instead of Ireland since it was Bede's penitential that was the most explicit about lesbian sex. (Who knew, Bede!)
"My Sister, My Spouse: Women-Identified Women in Medieval Christianity" by E. Ann Matter
For a broader view of early and high medieval sapphic literature, check out this article. There are some quotes from erotic poetry exchanged between nuns in 12th century Bavaria as well as a brief overview of early medieval penitentials concerning lesbianism.
"Representing the Negative: Positing the Lesbian Void in Medieval English Anchoritism" by Michelle M. Stauer
There is a lot more material to work with in late medieval England when it comes to women's sexuality in religious institutions. Stauer's article above, as well as her paper "Uncovering Difference: Encoded Homoerotic Anxiety within the Christian Eremitic Tradition in Medieval England", both look at the anxieties about lesbianism in texts directed towards anchorites. Anchorites were religious women who lived apart from the community of nuns, similar to hermits but with aspects unique to women. While much of Stauer's evidence is specific to the anchorites, it also provides food for thought about more conventional nuns.
"On Dildos and Penance" by Eleanor Janega
Janega is a historian who does a lot of public outreach about medieval sexuality. This post on her blog is about the penitential of Burchard of Worms and what it tells us about medieval attitudes towards sodomy and women's sexuality. For another public history take on medieval nuns and dildos, you can also see this Twitter thread by medievalist Erik Wade. Wade speculates that some of the depictions of nuns next to disembodied penises in medieval manuscript art might be references to dildos.
"Patronage of the West Saxon Royal Nunneries in Late Anglo-Saxon England" by M. A. Meyer
For more on the 10th century monastic revival in England and what role nuns had to play in it, check out this article by Meyer as well as his "Women and the Tenth Century English Monastic Reform". Everything we know about 10th century Amesbury Abbey is covered in these two articles. For more information about the abbey's later history, see this chapter of A History of the County of Wiltshire, Vol. 3.
""Sisters under the skin"? Anglo-Saxon nuns and nunneries in southern England" by Barbara Yorke
Yorke's article emphasizes the continuity between women's religious institutions in the early and later pre-Norman periods of English history. There is some information here about Amesbury's founding by Queen Ælfthryth and about the Regularis Concordia.
The Plan of St. Gall website
This website offers extremely detailed information about the Plan of St. Gall, an idealized blueprint for a 9th century Benedictine monastery. I based the setting on the map's plan of an orchard, including which trees are to be included. We don't have a specific plan for Amesbury Abbey from this period, so I used St. Gall as a model. For what information we do have about 10th century English monasteries, check out "The architectural interest of the 'Regularis Concordia'" by Mark Spurrell. You can learn more about medieval monastic gardens and orchards here.
"Skeletons in the Closet: Scholarly Erasure of Queer and Trans Themes in Early Medieval English Texts" by Erik Wade
This article came out after I completed this illustration. I'm adding it here because it provides a fascinating analysis of the erasure of queer themes in early medieval English historiography. The discussion of historical reception of penitentials dealing with same-sex desire is particularly relevant to this illustration. Wade points out how 19th and 20th century scholars deliberately mistranslated and often outright omitted passages about lesbianism from their translations of penitentials because of their supposed "historical insignificance." This was a damaging form of censorship which served racist and homophobic narratives about "Anglo-Saxon" sexual morality.
"Transgressing the Boundaries of Holiness: Sexual Deviance in the Early Medieval Penitential Handbooks of Ireland, England and France 500-1000" by Christine A. McCann
This thesis has a whole section on the treatment of homosexuality in penitentials. Reading this thesis made me decide to set the picture in England instead of Ireland since it was Bede's penitential that was the most explicit about lesbian sex. (Who knew, Bede!)
"My Sister, My Spouse: Women-Identified Women in Medieval Christianity" by E. Ann Matter
For a broader view of early and high medieval sapphic literature, check out this article. There are some quotes from erotic poetry exchanged between nuns in 12th century Bavaria as well as a brief overview of early medieval penitentials concerning lesbianism.
"Representing the Negative: Positing the Lesbian Void in Medieval English Anchoritism" by Michelle M. Stauer
There is a lot more material to work with in late medieval England when it comes to women's sexuality in religious institutions. Stauer's article above, as well as her paper "Uncovering Difference: Encoded Homoerotic Anxiety within the Christian Eremitic Tradition in Medieval England", both look at the anxieties about lesbianism in texts directed towards anchorites. Anchorites were religious women who lived apart from the community of nuns, similar to hermits but with aspects unique to women. While much of Stauer's evidence is specific to the anchorites, it also provides food for thought about more conventional nuns.
"On Dildos and Penance" by Eleanor Janega
Janega is a historian who does a lot of public outreach about medieval sexuality. This post on her blog is about the penitential of Burchard of Worms and what it tells us about medieval attitudes towards sodomy and women's sexuality. For another public history take on medieval nuns and dildos, you can also see this Twitter thread by medievalist Erik Wade. Wade speculates that some of the depictions of nuns next to disembodied penises in medieval manuscript art might be references to dildos.
"Patronage of the West Saxon Royal Nunneries in Late Anglo-Saxon England" by M. A. Meyer
For more on the 10th century monastic revival in England and what role nuns had to play in it, check out this article by Meyer as well as his "Women and the Tenth Century English Monastic Reform". Everything we know about 10th century Amesbury Abbey is covered in these two articles. For more information about the abbey's later history, see this chapter of A History of the County of Wiltshire, Vol. 3.
""Sisters under the skin"? Anglo-Saxon nuns and nunneries in southern England" by Barbara Yorke
Yorke's article emphasizes the continuity between women's religious institutions in the early and later pre-Norman periods of English history. There is some information here about Amesbury's founding by Queen Ælfthryth and about the Regularis Concordia.
The Plan of St. Gall website
This website offers extremely detailed information about the Plan of St. Gall, an idealized blueprint for a 9th century Benedictine monastery. I based the setting on the map's plan of an orchard, including which trees are to be included. We don't have a specific plan for Amesbury Abbey from this period, so I used St. Gall as a model. For what information we do have about 10th century English monasteries, check out "The architectural interest of the 'Regularis Concordia'" by Mark Spurrell. You can learn more about medieval monastic gardens and orchards here.
"Skeletons in the Closet: Scholarly Erasure of Queer and Trans Themes in Early Medieval English Texts" by Erik Wade
This article came out after I completed this illustration. I'm adding it here because it provides a fascinating analysis of the erasure of queer themes in early medieval English historiography. The discussion of historical reception of penitentials dealing with same-sex desire is particularly relevant to this illustration. Wade points out how 19th and 20th century scholars deliberately mistranslated and often outright omitted passages about lesbianism from their translations of penitentials because of their supposed "historical insignificance." This was a damaging form of censorship which served racist and homophobic narratives about "Anglo-Saxon" sexual morality.