Part 3: Attraction Offers | $100M Money Models Audiobook | Ep 940

Welcome to Cut and Thrust, your podcast for the bloody and sometimes bizarre journey through the Middle Ages. Whether it's dark battles, questionable hygiene, or hair-raising rulers, here you'll get history as it really was, raw and unfiltered. So grab your sword, put on your helmet, and let's dive into the wild world of the past. Hello and welcome to a new episode of the Battle Merchant podcast. I'm Hendrik, and I'm Carmen. Today we're diving into a fascinating topic, Medieval Falkenry, the art of hunting with birds of prey. And when I say art, I really mean it. This wasn't just putting a bird on your arm and letting it fly off. There wasn't an entire system behind it involving years of training, specialized knowledge of bird behavior, and what surprises many people, and elaborate symbolism. The symbolism is actually fascinating. Birds of prey were status symbols in the Middle Ages, but not just any. The higher your rank, the nobler your bird. There's an interesting source from 1486 called the "Boke of Saint Albans", an English work on hunting and heraldry. It contains a complete hierarchy who was allowed to keep which bird. Amporas were assigned the eagle, kings the gear falcon, and heralds the peregrine falcon. The often cited assignment of knights to the saker falcon actually comes from a later period. It's not in the 1486 original. But even priests and common yeoman had appropriate birds assigned to them. However, and this is important, this was more of an idealized vision. A kind of, how should I put it, Medieval etiquette handbook? These assignments describe how things should be, not necessarily how they were. That makes sense. In practice, it was probably more flexible. If a knight had a particularly fine peregrine falcon, he would hardly have given it up just because it wasn't befitting his station. Yes, the archaeological finds and records show a much more colourful reality, but the symbolism itself, that was powerful. A bird of prey on your arm immediately signaled this person belongs to the elite, which was also due to the effort involved. Falconry was extremely expensive and time-consuming. You needed staff to care for the bird's daily, special food, equipment. Only the upper classes could afford that. And then there was a trait. Many birds were imported internationally. I found that particularly interesting. The germ falcons, the white or grey large falcons, often came from Norway and Iceland. Exactly. And sarco-falkons were traded via the Mediterranean, among other routes, with Phoenician merchants playing an important role. The birds often came from the eastern Mediterranean and the Orient. Flavidic II documented this. Flanders was a major trading hub. And the prices? Enormous. A well-trained female sarco-falkon could cost as much as a craftsman's annual income, or ten to twenty cattle. There are records where the reward for a loss falcon amounted to considerable sums, up to a hundred livers or more. That also explains why falcons often served as diplomatic gifts. You weren't simply giving away a bird, but a small fortune. Absolutely. Flavidic II, the Hohenstau von Emperor, was actually one of the most significant falconers in history. He even wrote a scientific treatise on the subject, the Arte-Venandi-Kum-Avibus. He combined the Arabic falconry tradition with the European one. What also surprised me, gender norms weren't as rigid as one might think. There were definitely female falconers in the Middle Ages. The bokeh of St. Alban's even assigned ladies their own bird, the Mirlin. And in the sources, women who actively participated in Hawking appear time and again. The modern notion that falconry was exclusively a male pursuit that simply not accurate. So was it more a matter of rank than gender? You could put it that way. Those who belonged to the Nubility had access to falconry, whether men or women played a secondary role. Of course there were differences in practice, but that strict image, knight with falcon, damsel at the window, that's more cliché than reality. Fascinating, how much complexity there is to it. Not just the hunting technique itself, but the entire social fabrics surrounding it. And that's exactly what makes falconry so captivating. It wasn't just hunting, it was status symbol, diplomatic tool, art form and science all rolled into one. Now it gets really exciting, the hunting techniques themselves. And first you need to understand there were fundamentally two different hunting styles. The high flight and the low flight. Right, the low flight, that was typical for Gosshawks. They were launched directly from the fist, hunting a short range. Usually just a few dozen to a few hundred meters, depending on the terrain. Perfect for dense terrain, forest edges, heterocountry. Gosshawks are built for exactly that. Short, rounded wings, long tail. They can shoot through trees like, well like a jet fighter through a canyon. And their prey matched accordingly. Here's rabbits, fessons, anything that moves on or near the ground. But with the Paragrin Falcon, that's a completely different world. The waiting on flight. The Falcon first climbs high, really high, often to considerable heights depending on conditions. And then it waits, circles, observes. Only when game is flushed below, does the actual hunt begin. And then comes the famous dive, the stoop, over 300 kilometers per hour. That's faster than a high speed train, faster than most sports cars. The Paragrin Falcon is the fastest animal on earth. Incredible. It plummets from heights of sometimes 500 meters, strikes a prey with its talents and then kills it with a targeted bite to the neck. And that only works in open terrain. White fields, meadows, perhaps bodies of water. There the Paragrin hunt ducks, pigeons, crows, anything that flies. Medieval Falconers knew this perfectly well. If you were setting out to hunt ducks, you took the Paragrin. For rabbit hunting at the forest's edge, the goss hawk was your bird. That was real specialization. Each bird had its strength, its terrain, its prey. A good falconer had to know and coordinate all of this. The blockpost also mentions that Paragrin falcons could take surprisingly heavy prey up to 500 grams, such as crows or wood pigeons. For a small Paragrin, that's nearly its own body weight. That sounds spectacular at first, but. That's already the upper limit of what these birds can handle. Normally, Paragrin's hunted birds that were significantly lighter, starlings, small pigeons, thrushes. 500 gram prey like crows, that was challenging. That makes sense too. A falcon that constantly tackles prey that's too large, risks injury. And an injured hunting bird was an enormous loss in the Middle Ages. What fascinates me most about this whole topic, the bond between human and bird. This wasn't training in the modern sense, this was partnership. You have to understand, a bird of prey is not a dog. It has no peck instinct. It doesn't want to please you. If the bird returns to the falconer, it's because a genuine foundation of trust exists. The bird could fly away at any moment and never come back. The fact that it doesn't shows this special relationship. And that's precisely what made falconry a demonstration of nightly virtues, patience, self-control, respect for the animal. The bird's abilities reflected the character of its owner. At this point, if you're enjoying topics like these, please leave a like and subscribe to the channel. It really helps us produce more of these deep dives into history. What I wanted to add, the hunted self was often a social event. It wasn't just the falconer and his bird riding out, but entire hunting parties. With dogs? Often yes, especially when hawking for hairs, goss hawks and dogs work together. The dogs flush the game, the goss hawk struck. That was coordinated teamwork across species boundaries, human dog bird, each with a role to play. And all of this had to be trained. The dog couldn't attack the bird. The bird had to tolerate the dogs. That was highly complex coordination. The records show that experienced falconers knew their birds for years. Real, I would almost say, friendships developed, even if that sounds anthropomorphizing. But it captures it nonetheless. The chronicers described grief at the death of a particularly good hunting bird. These weren't interchangeable tools. They were individuals with their own character. A night was also judged by how he treated his birds. To mistreat a noble falcon or a good war horse was considered unnightly. A sign of lacking self-control that damaged one's own reputation. That's sometimes forgotten. This special bond with the hunting bird. Perhaps differently motivated than today, but it was there. It was already embedded in medieval falconry. Now to perhaps the most exciting part. How did a wild bird of prey actually become a hunting partner? The training was a complex process that could take weeks to months. And it all began with what's called manning. Right, manning comes from to man, getting the bird accustomed to humans. The falconer fed the bird from the hand, day after day, until the bird built trust. That sounds simple, but imagine you have a wide predator in front of you that perceives you as a threat. At first, the bird won't eat at all. It just sits there, stares at you, really just wants to escape. And then, after days or sometimes weeks, it takes the first step, takes the meat from your hand. That was the breakthrough. From that moment, the actual partnership began. But in the middle ages, there were also less patient methods. You mean waking? Yes, waking men keeping the bird awake, sometimes for days on end. Through light, movement, constant disturbance. The idea was to break the bird's resistance through exhaustion. That's obviously problematic from today's perspective. Sleep deprivation is pure stress for any living being. The bird was essentially forced into dependence on the falconer. Exactly. Such methods were known in the middle ages, though Frederick II took a completely different approach in his treaties. His method was revolutionary for the 13th century. Based on his own experiments, he even contradicted Aristotle when his observations showed otherwise. But the harsher methods worked. The bird became tame quickly. At what cost? The psychological effect was essentially forced submission through exhaustion. Modern falconers completely reject this. Today, the focus is primarily on positive reinforcement and low stress methods, though traditional techniques like weight management still play a role. Daily interaction in short sessions, around 15 to 30 minutes. The bird should cooperate one entirely. The big difference is that modern methods rely on trust rather than exhaustion. The bird learns that working with humans brings benefits, food, security, positive experiences. And interestingly, the result is often better. A bird that returns of its own free will is a more reliable hunting partner than one that has been broken. After many came the actual flight training. And that's where things became systematic. First? No, wait. First came the perch. The bird was tethered to a perch getting used to the surroundings. Only then came the crayons. The training line. Correct. A long thin line. With it, the falconer could let the bird fly short distances. Perhaps two or three meters at first. Each day, the distance was increased a little. Five meters. Ten meters. Twenty. The bird learned to return to the falconer on call or whistle. Always connected with a reward. A piece of meat on the glove. And then came the big moment. The first three fly without a line. That was an enormous risk. The bird could simply fly away and never return. That must have been nerve-wracking. Weeks or months of work. And then you let it go and hope it comes back. That's why patience was so crucial. The sources emphasize again and again, impatience destroys training progress. Those who wanted too much too soon lost their bird. The entire basic training probably took two to three months with an experienced falconer. But the fine-tuning, which prey, which terrain, that was an ongoing process. And then each year came the mold. The bird shed its feathers and couldn't hunt during this time. After the mold, retraining was often necessary. So a falconer was actually never finished with training. It was a constant dialogue between human and animal. And now a quick word from our sponsor. Feeling curious? Then head over to battlemerchant.com. They've got all sorts of medieval stuff from costumes to armor and loads more. Totally worth a look. What impresses me about this, despite the problematic methods like waking, the medieval sources also show genuine understanding of bird behavior. Friedrich II observed meticulously, documented, experimented. He's considered one of the first unifologists in the modern sense. His work remains scientifically relevant to this day. Falkenry was both art and science. And training was at the heart of it. Without this intensive preparation, the entire hunt wouldn't have been possible. What remains is this respect for the animal. Even if the historical methods are problematic by today's standards, the goal was always a functioning partnership, not submission at any cost. Now to the daily life of falconry. And that was labour intensive. The daily care of the birds required absolute precision. Starting with the condition check. Today birds are weighed in the morning, but historically hunting condition was assessed through body condition, behavior and appetite. Feeling the breastbone was central. Yes, and today we are talking about gram-precise accuracy, with digital scales. With a peregrine falcon, small weight differences can be decisive. Historically they relied on experience and the delicate touch. Friedrich II describes this extensively in his work. He never mentions scales. And how exactly did the feeling work? Essentially quite intuitively. The falconer regularly ran his fingers over the breastbone, the keel. By the way, balance scales existed of course, but they were meant for trade goods, not for measuring gram differences. Precision scales were only for coins and precious methods. For falconers, the feel of the body was decisive. The so-called razor sharp keel. Right, if the breastbone protrudes too much, like a sharp edge under the feathers, then the bird is too thin underweight, no longer in hunting condition, too weakened. In contrast, overweight birds were put on a diet. Short rations until the weight was right again. A falcon that's too heavy had no motivation to hunt. Weight management was a balancing act. You want the bird hungry enough to hunt, but not so starved that it's weakened. Maintaining this balance daily required real expertise. And that's precisely why specialized staff were needed. A noble man couldn't take care of everything himself. There were master falconers, journey man, helpers, an entire team. A whole apparatus that had to be maintained and financed. Essentially, falconry was a status symbol precisely because it constantly consumed resources. Those who could afford it demonstrated the economic power. Which brings me to modern developments. Today, things look quite different. Though first came a dark chapter. In the 1960s and 70s, the paragon falcon was on the brink of extinction. Because of DDT. The pesticide accumulated in the food chain. In birds of prey, it led to thin-shelled eggs that broke during incubation. In Germany, around 1975, there were only about 50 breeding pairs left, 50. In some regions, the paragon falcon had completely disappeared. And today? Over a thousand breeding pairs in Germany alone. The recovery is one of the great success stories of conservation. The DDT ban, consistent protection of nesting sites, and captive breeding programs starting in the 1970s. What was interesting about the breeding? They had to find a middle ground. The birds were partly hand raised, but in a way that preserved their wild instincts. How does that work? Feeding puppets by humans, but through decoys that looked like adult falcons. That way, they didn't imprint on humans. This also shows the continuity with historical falconry. The basic principles, respect for the animal, understanding of its behavior, the balance between closeness and wild nature, they apply today as they did then. Except that today we no longer need to take birds from the wild. In Germany and Europe, this runs through breeding programs. They supply falconers, and at the same time, released birds are used to support wild populations, a real win-win. What's also fascinating? Many behavioral observations, important for breeding, were already documented by Friedrich II. Modern on ethylogists have built on this understanding and expanded it. The knowledge of medieval falconers wasn't just tradition. It was empirical observation across generations, and this legacy lives on in today's falconry and conservation. When we look back at everything now, falconry was so much more than just a hunting method. It was a complex art form that demanded knowledge, patience, and genuine respect for the animal. And it connects past and present in a special way. Birds of prey show their well-being quite directly through their purging behavior. The calm sitting? Absolutely. A content bird of prey perches relaxed on its stand, observes its surroundings, rests. That's natural behavior. In the wild, they sit a lot and mainly fly to hunt, patrol territory, or when disturbed. Conserving energy is essential for survival. So when your bird sits calmly and surveys the world, you know everything's fine. It's ready for the next hunt, but currently in balance. That's actually a beautiful image for all of falconry. This balance between wild nature and human care. The bird remains a predator, but it trusts its falconer. What fascinates me is that this tradition is still alive today and even officially recognized. UNESCO declared falconry an intangible cultural heritage of humanity in 2010. Originally with 11 countries, now it's 18. Germany joined in 2016. That shows how universal this human animal partnership is. From Mongolia to Germany, from the United Arab Emirates to France, everywhere people practice this ancient art. And in doing so, they combine historical knowledge with modern insights. The basic principles have remained the same, but the methods have evolved, I would say. More humane, more scientifically grounded. Medieval falconers would probably have been amazed at how well we understand bird biology today. But they would have instantly recognized the fundamental idea, this partnership of equals. Yeah, that's probably what makes falconry so timeless. It's not about dominance. It's about cooperation, with a creature that could fly away at any moment. And with that, we've come to the end of our journey through the world of medieval falconry. From the status symbols of the nobility, through hunting techniques and elaborate training, to daily care and modern conservation. If you enjoyed this topic, at battlemarchen.com, you'll find many more fascinating articles on history and the Middle Ages. And there are regularly new topics on the blog for anyone interested in this fascinating era. Feel free to stop by and browse through this election. From both of us, thank you so much for listening. Until next time. And so we ride towards the end of this episode. Keep your sword sharp and your mugs full. We'll catch you in the next one. [Music]