Anyone up for a spa day? Lucie Laumonier explores how people in the Middle Ages sought out hot springs for healing and relaxation, and how thermal bathing developed into a flourishing medical practice and even a form of medieval tourism.
By Lucie Laumonier
Have you ever been to hot springs? Or to a facility where pools are filled with naturally mineralized water? Besides being an enjoyable activity in and of itself, thermalism is still doctor-recommended today because of the curative properties of special spring waters.
The word “thermalism” derives from the Latin “thermae,” hot bathhouses, which itself borrows from the Greek “thermos,” hot. Thermalism is part of balneotherapy, which is a method of treating ailments and diseases by bathing. What makes thermalism different from regular bathing is that it occurs in mineral waters coming from natural springs (hot or cold) or mud. Classical Latin texts used “balneum” and “thermae” interchangeably to designate both natural thermal springs and human-made bathhouses. Some Roman bathhouses had been built in the direct vicinity of hot springs, whose waters were rerouted to human-made pools (such as in Bath, England), while other bathhouses, especially in urban settings, were connected to the usual water system.
Medieval Arabic sources, however, clearly distinguished human-made bathhouses from natural springs. Al-hammam was the term used for bathhouses dedicated to hygiene and social purposes, while al-hamma referred to thermal springs. Thermalism is (and was, in the Middle Ages) therefore different from regular bathing, even if both were seen as pleasurable, recreational and potentially curative activities. As early as the seventh century, Isidore of Sevilla wrote that some waters, such as the ones containing sulfur, can provide “a cure for illness”. Emperor Charlemagne, who died in 814, “liked the steam of naturally hot waters” of the thermal springs of Aachen, where he enjoyed swimming, his biographer wrote. But at that point in time, thermalism had not yet gained much traction in Christian Europe, unlike in Islamic territories.
The Rise of Thermalism in al-Andalus
The 11th-century Arab baths of El Bañuelo in Granada, Spain, one of the best-preserved surviving hammams from medieval al-Andalus. Photo by Martin Furtschegger / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY 3.0.
In al-Andalus, hot spring sites had been used as early as in the ninth century. At that point in time, several thermal sites located in al-Andalus were mentioned in Arabic texts, while an eleventh-century chronicle mentions that the sultan often went to a hamma in the Seville area with his harem. Historians and archeologists have found that only a small number of these Iberian thermal sites had been developed during the Classical era; most were settled upon the expansion of the Islamic empire. Then, artisans built pools to channel the natural waters and erected cupolas to provide shade, while gardens and marble statues ornamented the thermal sites.
Classical thermae connected to springs were usually quite monumental, as were the typical Roman bathhouses: several pools (cold, warm, hot), saunas, large roofed rooms built in stone and so forth. But in North African and Andalusi hammas, natural settings prevailed: except for pools and the occasional cupola, thermal spring sites were typified by lush gardens. Andalusi poet Ibn al-Haddad, who died in 1087, described one hamma of the Almeria region as follows:
At the bright al-Hamma, our wishes come true It is a garden of fragrant flowers There, we enjoy the hot water.
The thermal waters were recognized for having curative benefits. The eleventh-century scholar al-ʿUdhrī recommended a specific hamma, in the Córdoba area, to heal kidney stones. Another scholar wrote that the waters of a hamma near Murcia were known for driving away leeches. In the twelfth century, the famous geographer and cartographer al-Idrisi noted that “from all around, sick people and infirms come [to a hamma in the Almeria region]. They stay until their ailments are eased or fully healed”. In al-Andalus, therefore, hammas were used for their curative properties, as well as for enjoyment, as the sultan example mentioned above demonstrates. Elsewhere in Europe, thermalism had not gained the same traction, but popes soon became hot spring trendsetters.
Thermalism in Italy: Popes too like to bathe
The thermal bath known as Calatura at Pozzuoli, depicted in a medieval manuscript of Peter of Eboli’s De balneis Puteolanis, dating from before 1494. Universitat de València / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 3.0.
At the beginning of the twelfth century, traveler and writer Benjamin de Tudela wrote about the twenty hot springs of Pozzuoli, near Naples (a site with high volcanic activity), that faced the sea shore. Tudela described the springs as a site where hot water exits the earth in front of the sea, and noted that “anyone with a sickness who would bathe there would be cured and relieved”. Visitors traveled long distances to seek a cure for their ailments in Pozzuoli, and Frederick II of the Holy Roman Empire arrived in 1227 to try the hot springs for himself. At around the same time, a scholar wrote the first Latin treatise about thermalism in which he discussed the virtues of the Pozzuoli waters.
But popes are the ones who really contributed to popularizing thermalism. In the early 1200s, they started spending the summer in Viterbo, north of Rome, where they had a grandiose palazzo built. Just west of Viterbo were thermal springs in the form of mineral-rich hot water pools, known since the classical era. Ruins of a Roman bathhouse are still there today, and archaeologists suspect that the thermal pools were used in the Etruscan era. Pope Innocent III would be the first to have (re)discovered the healing power of the springs, and documents indicate that Gregory IX took regular baths there to heal his kidney stones. The most famous of these springs was nicknamed the “bulicame” or “bubbling place.” A new bathhouse was soon built that encompassed three of the springs. But, maybe because they were not to the liking of the popes, in the mid-fifteenth century, Nicholas V commissioned the construction of a new luxury bath palace to replace the previous one.
In Tuscany alone, forty different thermal spring sites were maintained for locals, tourists and patients. The rediscovery of thermalism inspired physicians and scholars. Between c. 1330 and c. 1450, Italian doctors wrote no less than fourteen different treatises about thermalism and the virtues of natural springs. “The waters of Porretta work in wondrous ways to heal all of the ailments that often afflict people,” one author, Tura di Castello, wrote. Physicians traveled to the spring sites and conducted experiments to determine the specificity of the waters. They debated the waters’ smell, colour, and taste. Some distilled the springs’ water to determine which minerals they contained. Physicians observed patients and immersed themselves in the springs. “All of the springs I wrote about, I bathe in them myself,” wrote Francesco da Siena at the beginning of the fifteenth century in his treatise on thermalism. “I asked patients to go in the water depending on their ailments, and the alleged virtues of the waters proved to be true,” he concluded.
Scholars note that during the period ranging from the twelfth to the sixteenth century, Christian Europe witnessed a “medicalisation of thermalism”, where thermal baths went from being associated with physical pleasure and recreation—such as the example of Charlemagne shows—to becoming a therapeutic tool for the preservation of health and the treatment of illness. Physicians, borrowing from the Arabic-Galenic medical tradition, were adamant that thermalism could restore health, though it had to be adapted to each patient’s health regimen.
Medieval Spa Tourism
The warm, steaming waters of the Blue Lagoon in Iceland, a modern example of the continuing popularity of geothermal bathing. Photo by Moyan Brenn / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY 2.0.
Whether in Al-Andalus, North Africa, England or Italy, hot springs attracted tourists and visitors looking to relieve their physical ailments or to spend some pleasant time bathing. A scholar from Fez, Morocco, in the sixteenth century noted that the “gentlemen from Fez traveled every year in April (to a hot spring site) where they stayed four or five days to relax”. In fact, thermalism led in some cases to the rise of a sort of tourism industry. In the twelfth century, geographer Al-Idrisi recounted that “the people from Almeria come and stay at al-Hamma Baggana [a hot spring site] in the summer with their wives and children.” He noted that these families spent a lot of money on food, drink and rented accommodation. In the thirteenth century, Iran-born scholar Al-Qazwīnī noted that the same thermal facility of Baggana, in al-Andalus, now included stone-built housing to accommodate travelers, to the point that “there is no room due to the number of people coming here.” Overcrowded thermal sites were already an issue in the thirteenth century!
Anyone up for a spa day? Lucie Laumonier explores how people in the Middle Ages sought out hot springs for healing and relaxation, and how thermal bathing developed into a flourishing medical practice and even a form of medieval tourism.
By Lucie Laumonier
Have you ever been to hot springs? Or to a facility where pools are filled with naturally mineralized water? Besides being an enjoyable activity in and of itself, thermalism is still doctor-recommended today because of the curative properties of special spring waters.
The word “thermalism” derives from the Latin “thermae,” hot bathhouses, which itself borrows from the Greek “thermos,” hot. Thermalism is part of balneotherapy, which is a method of treating ailments and diseases by bathing. What makes thermalism different from regular bathing is that it occurs in mineral waters coming from natural springs (hot or cold) or mud. Classical Latin texts used “balneum” and “thermae” interchangeably to designate both natural thermal springs and human-made bathhouses. Some Roman bathhouses had been built in the direct vicinity of hot springs, whose waters were rerouted to human-made pools (such as in Bath, England), while other bathhouses, especially in urban settings, were connected to the usual water system.
Medieval Arabic sources, however, clearly distinguished human-made bathhouses from natural springs. Al-hammam was the term used for bathhouses dedicated to hygiene and social purposes, while al-hamma referred to thermal springs. Thermalism is (and was, in the Middle Ages) therefore different from regular bathing, even if both were seen as pleasurable, recreational and potentially curative activities. As early as the seventh century, Isidore of Sevilla wrote that some waters, such as the ones containing sulfur, can provide “a cure for illness”. Emperor Charlemagne, who died in 814, “liked the steam of naturally hot waters” of the thermal springs of Aachen, where he enjoyed swimming, his biographer wrote. But at that point in time, thermalism had not yet gained much traction in Christian Europe, unlike in Islamic territories.
The Rise of Thermalism in al-Andalus
In al-Andalus, hot spring sites had been used as early as in the ninth century. At that point in time, several thermal sites located in al-Andalus were mentioned in Arabic texts, while an eleventh-century chronicle mentions that the sultan often went to a hamma in the Seville area with his harem. Historians and archeologists have found that only a small number of these Iberian thermal sites had been developed during the Classical era; most were settled upon the expansion of the Islamic empire. Then, artisans built pools to channel the natural waters and erected cupolas to provide shade, while gardens and marble statues ornamented the thermal sites.
Classical thermae connected to springs were usually quite monumental, as were the typical Roman bathhouses: several pools (cold, warm, hot), saunas, large roofed rooms built in stone and so forth. But in North African and Andalusi hammas, natural settings prevailed: except for pools and the occasional cupola, thermal spring sites were typified by lush gardens. Andalusi poet Ibn al-Haddad, who died in 1087, described one hamma of the Almeria region as follows:
At the bright al-Hamma, our wishes come true
It is a garden of fragrant flowers
There, we enjoy the hot water.
The thermal waters were recognized for having curative benefits. The eleventh-century scholar al-ʿUdhrī recommended a specific hamma, in the Córdoba area, to heal kidney stones. Another scholar wrote that the waters of a hamma near Murcia were known for driving away leeches. In the twelfth century, the famous geographer and cartographer al-Idrisi noted that “from all around, sick people and infirms come [to a hamma in the Almeria region]. They stay until their ailments are eased or fully healed”. In al-Andalus, therefore, hammas were used for their curative properties, as well as for enjoyment, as the sultan example mentioned above demonstrates. Elsewhere in Europe, thermalism had not gained the same traction, but popes soon became hot spring trendsetters.
Thermalism in Italy: Popes too like to bathe
At the beginning of the twelfth century, traveler and writer Benjamin de Tudela wrote about the twenty hot springs of Pozzuoli, near Naples (a site with high volcanic activity), that faced the sea shore. Tudela described the springs as a site where hot water exits the earth in front of the sea, and noted that “anyone with a sickness who would bathe there would be cured and relieved”. Visitors traveled long distances to seek a cure for their ailments in Pozzuoli, and Frederick II of the Holy Roman Empire arrived in 1227 to try the hot springs for himself. At around the same time, a scholar wrote the first Latin treatise about thermalism in which he discussed the virtues of the Pozzuoli waters.
But popes are the ones who really contributed to popularizing thermalism. In the early 1200s, they started spending the summer in Viterbo, north of Rome, where they had a grandiose palazzo built. Just west of Viterbo were thermal springs in the form of mineral-rich hot water pools, known since the classical era. Ruins of a Roman bathhouse are still there today, and archaeologists suspect that the thermal pools were used in the Etruscan era. Pope Innocent III would be the first to have (re)discovered the healing power of the springs, and documents indicate that Gregory IX took regular baths there to heal his kidney stones. The most famous of these springs was nicknamed the “bulicame” or “bubbling place.” A new bathhouse was soon built that encompassed three of the springs. But, maybe because they were not to the liking of the popes, in the mid-fifteenth century, Nicholas V commissioned the construction of a new luxury bath palace to replace the previous one.
In Tuscany alone, forty different thermal spring sites were maintained for locals, tourists and patients. The rediscovery of thermalism inspired physicians and scholars. Between c. 1330 and c. 1450, Italian doctors wrote no less than fourteen different treatises about thermalism and the virtues of natural springs. “The waters of Porretta work in wondrous ways to heal all of the ailments that often afflict people,” one author, Tura di Castello, wrote. Physicians traveled to the spring sites and conducted experiments to determine the specificity of the waters. They debated the waters’ smell, colour, and taste. Some distilled the springs’ water to determine which minerals they contained. Physicians observed patients and immersed themselves in the springs. “All of the springs I wrote about, I bathe in them myself,” wrote Francesco da Siena at the beginning of the fifteenth century in his treatise on thermalism. “I asked patients to go in the water depending on their ailments, and the alleged virtues of the waters proved to be true,” he concluded.
Scholars note that during the period ranging from the twelfth to the sixteenth century, Christian Europe witnessed a “medicalisation of thermalism”, where thermal baths went from being associated with physical pleasure and recreation—such as the example of Charlemagne shows—to becoming a therapeutic tool for the preservation of health and the treatment of illness. Physicians, borrowing from the Arabic-Galenic medical tradition, were adamant that thermalism could restore health, though it had to be adapted to each patient’s health regimen.
Medieval Spa Tourism
Whether in Al-Andalus, North Africa, England or Italy, hot springs attracted tourists and visitors looking to relieve their physical ailments or to spend some pleasant time bathing. A scholar from Fez, Morocco, in the sixteenth century noted that the “gentlemen from Fez traveled every year in April (to a hot spring site) where they stayed four or five days to relax”. In fact, thermalism led in some cases to the rise of a sort of tourism industry. In the twelfth century, geographer Al-Idrisi recounted that “the people from Almeria come and stay at al-Hamma Baggana [a hot spring site] in the summer with their wives and children.” He noted that these families spent a lot of money on food, drink and rented accommodation. In the thirteenth century, Iran-born scholar Al-Qazwīnī noted that the same thermal facility of Baggana, in al-Andalus, now included stone-built housing to accommodate travelers, to the point that “there is no room due to the number of people coming here.” Overcrowded thermal sites were already an issue in the thirteenth century!
Lucie Laumonier is a medieval historian and professor at Concordia University, Montreal. Her newest book is Charity and Community in Montpellier, 13th–16th Centuries: The Multiplication of Loaves. You can follow Lucie on Instagram @lucie_in_academia
Click here to read more from Lucie Laumonier
Further Readings:
The Elements in the Medieval World: Interdisciplinary Perspectives. Water, ed. by Marilina Cesario, Hugh Magennis and Elisa Ramazzina (Leiden, Brill: 2024).
Medicine in the Medieval North Atlantic World: Vernacular Texts and Traditions, ed. by Deborah Hayden and Sarah Baccianti (Turnhout, Brepols: 2025).
Patrice Cressier, “Prendre les eaux en al-Andalus. Pratique et fréquentation de la Hamma”, Médiévales 43 (2002): 41-54
Marilyn Nicoud, “Les médecins italiens et le bain thermal à la fin du Moyen Âge”, Médiévales 43 (2002): 13-40.
Top Image: BnF. MS Latin 8161 fol. 20r
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