What’s Up with All Those Weird Doodles in the Smithfield Decretals?

Lots of people have seen images of the illustrations from the medieval manuscript known as the Smithfield Decretals online. Many of the images you see in articles about bizarre medieval marginalia come directly from the Smithfield Decretals. If you have seen any of these illustrations, you have probably thought, “Huh. Those are pretty weird. I wonder what’s up with those. Why did the manuscript illustrator put in all these bizarre doodles?” If you have ever wondered this, make sure to read on because I am about to explain the meanings of some of the strangest and most fascinating manuscript illustrations from the Late Middle Ages!

What exactly is the Smithfield Decretals?

The Smithfield Decretals is a manuscript copy of the Decretals of Pope Gregory IX (served as Pope 1227 – 1241 AD) with a gloss by Bernard of Parma. It was originally copied in the south of France, probably somewhere within the vicinity of the city of Toulouse, at some point near the end of the 1200s or beginning of the 1300s.

Pope Gregory IX’s Decretals is a collection of works of canon law that was produced in 1230 by Saint Raymond of Penyafort under the orders of Pope Gregory IX. It was supposed to be the standard work on the subject of canon law that superceded all previous works on the subject. At the time when the Smithfield Decretals was copied, the Decretals was still considered essential reading for anyone studying canon law.

There are roughly 675 different surviving handwritten manuscripts of Gregory IX’s Decretals, which gives you some impression of the work’s immense importance and influence. What makes the Smithfield Decretals unique is the fact that it is extensively illustrated. It contains far more illustrations than any other surviving copy of the Decretals.

The original scribes who copied the Smithfield Decretals in southern France at the turn of the thirteenth century produced lavish illustrations for the beginnings of each of the five books that make up the text. These illustrations drawn by the original French illustrators are largely relevant to the text and mainly depict scenes of Pope Gregory IX and his supporters. They are, for the most part, not really weird at all, but rather exactly the sort of illustrations you would expect to find in a manuscript of such an important legal text.

The margins of the text were deliberately left blank by the original French scribes so that future owners of the text could add their own notes and annotations to the text. As a result of this, the manuscript would have originally had a lot of blank space in it, especially in the margins. At some point before around 1340, however, the Smithfield Decretals fell into the possession of someone in eastern England, probably in London, who paid a group of illustrators to add even more extensive illustrations to the text.

The London illustrators drew elaborate borders and illustrations on every page of the manuscript, nearly completely filling up all the margins. At that time, there was a huge trend among manuscript illustrators in eastern England for drawing “drolleries” which are bizarre, absurd, and humorous marginal illustrations. Thus, many of the illustrations added by the London illustrators are strange and humorous. Oftentimes, these illustrations are not directly related to the text. Many of them are satirical. They tend to be especially critical of the enforcers of canon law.

ABOVE: Images of one page from the Smithfield Decretals. The illustrations on the interior surrounded by the text were drawn by the original French illustrators. The illustrations in the margins were drawn by the later London illustrators.

ABOVE: Illustration drawn by the original French illustrators depicting Pope Gregory IX surrounded by cardinals

The knights fighting giant snails

Before they ask about any other kind of illustration, nearly everyone always asks about the illustrations that depict knights or other human individuals engaging in deadly combat with giant snails. These illustrations are extremely common in medieval manuscripts. They are not just found in the Smithfield Decretals, but in also dozens of other manuscripts from all over western Europe and Britain dating from the twelfth to fifteenth centuries.

Unfortunately, the illustrations of people fighting giant snails are among the least well-understood illustrations from the Late Middle Ages. No one is really quite sure what the snails are supposed to represent—if indeed they represent anything at all. Many historians and medievalists have attempted to propose explanations for the knights fighting snails, but none of these explanations have been completely satisfactory.

One explanation proposed by medievalist Lilian Randall holds that the snails are supposed to represent the Lombards, a Germanic people who were seen as slimy, treasonous, and deceitful. Thus, if this interpretation is correct, then the depictions of the knights fighting snails are supposed to represent the heroic, chivalrous knights fighting against the lying, unscrupulous Lombards. I am highly skeptical of this interpretation, however, because there is little evidence to support it. Furthermore, in many illustrations, the snail is actually shown defeating the knight. If the snails are supposed to represent wicked foes who must be defeated, why do they most often seem to win?

There is another interpretation which holds that the snails actually represent social climbers. If this interpretation is correct, then the illustrations of knights fighting snails are a sort of elite commentary on the unfairness of filthy social upstarts from the lower classes rising up and beating the noble and chivalrous elites by winning the favor of the king and higher elites. The reason why the knights often seem to lose to the snails, then, would be because the nobility felt cheated and powerless against these dirty upstarts. There is some evidence to support this interpretation, such as illustrations from manuscripts of snails climbing ladders, but, overall, the evidence is not especially compelling.

The explanation I personally think is most likely is simply that snails are usually seen as feeble creature that are easily killed, so it is humorous to depict knights in shining armor struggling to defeat them. In other words, the snails probably don’t represent anything and the illustrations are probably just making fun of knights by portraying them fighting gigantic versions of creatures that would normally be very easy to kill.

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 107 of the Smithfield Decretals, added by the London illustrators, depicting a knight fighting a giant snail

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 45 of the Smithfield Decretals, added by the London illustrators, depicting a person apparently pelting rocks at a giant snail

The fox dressed as a bishop lecturing to the birds

There is a famous illustration from the Smithfield Decretals depicting a fox dressed up as a bishop delivering a sermon to a flock of birds. This illustration, which was added by the London illustrators, is unambiguously a satire against corrupt priests who prey on and exploit their congregations for their own financial gain. Foxes were known in the Late Middle Ages as sly predators. Stories about the character Reynard the Fox, a clever fox who lives by trickery, were very popular during this time period.

Meanwhile, there was a great deal of corruption within the Catholic Church during the fourteenth-century and this corruption was often the target of satire and criticism. The English poet Geoffrey Chaucer (lived 1343 – 1400), who was writing at the very end of the fourteenth century, slightly later than the London illustrators of the Smithfield Decretals, extensively satirizes ecclesiastical corruption in his long narrative poem The Canterbury Tales.

By portraying a fox as a bishop, the illustrator who produced this illustration was clearly saying that some priests were deceitful predators who did not live for God’s Word, but rather for their own profit. Ultimately, in the Smithfield Decretals at least, divine justice is ultimately served against the corrupt priests; there is an illustration on one of the other pages in the manuscript of the birds lynching the fox-bishop by hanging him from a tree.

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 49v, added by the London illustrators, depicting a fox dressed up as a bishop, delivering a sermon to a flock of birds

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 48v, added by the London illustrators, depicting the birds hanging the fox-bishop

Sexual illustrations

Sexual illustrations are also found in the Smithfield Decretals. For instance, there is one illustration of a man sexually assaulting a woman who is trying to spin. He has his hand on her shoulder while groping her buttocks. She has an annoyed expression on her face. In the fourteenth century, these sorts of scenes were considered humorous. In Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, there is a particularly obscene, humorous tale called “The Miller’s Tale,” which includes a scene in which a crafty scholar named Nicholas is staying in a house owned by a carpenter named John. Nicholas attempts to seduce John’s wife Alisoun by sexually assaulting her:

“And prively he caughte hire by the queynte,
and seyde, ‘Ywis, but if ich have my wille,
for deerne love of thee, lemman, I spille.’
And heeld hire harde by the haunchebones,
and seyde, ‘Lemman, love me al atones,
or I wol dyen, also God me save!’
And she sproong as a colt dooth in the trave,
and with hir heed she wryed faste awey,
and seyde, ‘I wol nat kisse thee, by my fey!
Why, lat be,’ quod she, “lat be, Nicholas,
Or I wol crie out “harrow” and “allas!”
Do wey youre handes, for youre curteisye!’”

Translated into Modern English, this means:

“And, privately, he grabbed her by the pussy,
and said, ‘Yes, unless I have my will,
for secret love of you, Sweetie, I’ll spill.’
And held her hard by the buttocks,
and said, ‘Sweetie, love me now,
or I will die, and God will save me too.‘
And she sprung as a colt does in the trave,
and with her head she twisted fast away,
and said, ‘I will not kiss you, by my faith!
Why let go,’ said she, ‘let go, Nicholas,
or I will cry out “help!” and “alas!”
Do take your hands away, for your courtesy!’”

One does get the impression that sexual assault was not taken nearly as seriously in the Late Middle Ages as it is today.

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 139, added by the London illustrators, depicting a man sexually harassing a young woman who is trying to spin. He has one hand on her shoulder and the other on her buttocks. Such scenes were considered humorous in the fourteenth century.

Of course, the women in the illustrations are not always defenseless against their male assaulters. Another illustration shows a woman holding a wild man—the medieval equivalent of a satyr—by the throat and apparently threatening to bludgeon him with a stick if he goes too far.

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 73 of a woman threatening a wild man with a stick

The rabbits hunting dogs and humans

Many of the illustrations that were added by the London illustrators to the Smithfield Decretals depict abnormally large rabbits hunting dogs and humans. These illustrations are supposed to be humorous. They are intended to reflect an ironic reversal of roles; normally, in medieval times, humans used dogs to hunt rabbits, so to depict rabbits hunting dogs and humans was seen as the opposite of the way things were normally supposed to be.

You might think of these scenes as representing a sort of “rabbit’s revenge” wherein the rabbits, tired of being hunted, decide to become the hunters—a sort of more violent medieval equivalent to the modern animated comedy film Free Birds, which is about turkeys who travel back in time and successfully prevent the first Thanksgiving. These illustrations are supposed to be funny because they present animals usually seen as scared and helpless as dangerous hunters and animals usually seen as powerful as powerless victims.

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 57v of the Smithfield Decretals added by the London illustrators depicting a rabbit with a bow and arrow about to shoot an elderly dog walking with a cane

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 60v added by the London illustrators depicting giant rabbits leading a human captive, whom they are presumably preparing to butcher

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 62v added by the London illustrators depicting two giant rabbits tying up a dog they have captured

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 61v added by the London illustrators depicting a giant rabbit beheading a human captive

The illustration of “Yoda”

There is a very famous illustration from the Smithfield Decretals of a wrinkled green creature with pointy ears wearing a brown cloak that many modern viewers have interpreted as the character Yoda from Star Wars. In reality, the illustration is probably supposed to be a representation of the Devil as a professor of canon law.

We can be pretty sure that the creature in the illustration is either Satan himself or some kind of demon. Pretty much anytime you see a grotesque, humanoid figure in a medieval manuscript, it is usually supposed to be the Devil or one of his demons.

In the Middle Ages, there existed a something of a fear that university professors were secretly spreading corruption and encouraging sin. Professors in the Middle Ages often wore robes like the ones that the green-skinned, pointy-eared creature in this illustration is shown wearing. Based on this, we can conclude that the figure in this illustration is probably supposed to be a professor of some sort.

Finally, legal scholars in Middle Ages had a similar reputation to lawyers today; they were seen as slimy, dishonest, and more interested in personal gain than in justice. Since the Decretals is a legal text, it is likely that the Devil in this illustration is not just a generic university professor, but specifically a professor of canon law.

ABOVE: The illustrators from the Smithfield Decretals, added by the London illustrators, that some have interpreted as representing the character Yoda from Star Wars. In reality, it is probably supposed to represent the Devil as a professor of canon law.

Other naughty Devils

The Devil and his demons actually appear all over the place in the pages of the Smithfield Decretals. The Devil was often seen as something of a humorous figure for much of the Middle Ages. He often appeared in mystery plays as a comic relief character who farted and made a fool of himself on stage. It makes sense, then, that he and his demons should have a notable presence in the margins of the Smithfield Decretals.

As always, the demons in the Smithfield Decretals are up to no good; they are shown threatening clergy, leering over sleeping women, pushing clergy off bridges, and engaging in various other diabolic acts. The styles in which they are drawn vary depending on the artist who drew them and the kind of demon they felt like portraying, but they are all hideously grotesque.

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 113v of the Devil threatening a hermit

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 177 of the Devil leering over a sleeping woman, presumably hoping to either rape her in her sleep or give her sinful dreams or do something else evil to her

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 192 of a demon pushing a nun off a bridge

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 226 of a demon pushing a monk off a bridge

All the demons are ultimately punished for their mischief, though. Usually they seem to wind up in the stocks, apparently getting made fun of by angels.

ABOVE: Illustration from f. 188v of two demons in the stock with two angels making fun of them

Conclusion

The Smithfield Decretals is full of all sorts of bizarre doodles that were drawn by the English illustrators in the early fourteenth century. We have knights fighting snails, foxy bishops, rabbits hunting humans, the Devil dressed as Yoda, demons causing havoc, and all sorts of other things going on. All of these illustrations, though, have something to tell us about the culture that produced them.

If you want to see some more medieval manuscript illustrations, I included some drawings of cats from medieval manuscripts in this article I wrote last month. I also wrote about medieval art in this article I wrote back in October 2019. If you are interested in medieval manuscripts, here is a fascinating article I wrote a few days ago about the history of the Archimedes Palimpsest.

Author: Spencer McDaniel

I am a historian mainly interested in ancient Greek cultural and social history. Some of my main historical interests include ancient religion and myth; gender and sexuality; ethnicity; and interactions between Greeks and foreign cultures. I hold a BA in history and classical studies (Ancient Greek and Latin languages and literature), with departmental honors in history, from Indiana University Bloomington (May 2022) and an MA in Ancient Greek and Roman Studies from Brandeis University (May 2024).