Monks and Monasteries: Wine in the Dark Ages

This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through these links, we may earn a commission at no additional cost to you.

Imagine Europe in the year 500 AD. The mighty Roman Empire, which had brought roads, laws, and aqueducts to the continent, had crumbled. The Pax Romana was gone, replaced by what historians used to call the “Dark Ages.” It was a time of chaos, tribal warfare, and uncertainty. Cities shrank, trade routes collapsed, and the great knowledge of the ancients threatened to disappear forever.

But amidst this turmoil, small flickers of light remained. These weren’t in the castles of warlords, but behind the thick stone walls of monasteries. Here, men in rough woollen robes did more than just pray. They copied books, they healed the sick, and perhaps most importantly for our modern palate, they farmed.

Specifically, they grew grapes.

If you enjoy a glass of crisp Chardonnay or a complex Pinot Noir today, you owe a debt to these medieval monks. They didn’t just keep winemaking alive when civilization was falling apart; they perfected it. They were the world’s first true agricultural scientists, the first to map the land, and the guardians of the vine. This is the story of how the church saved wine, and how wine, in turn, helped fuel the church.

Part 1: The Divine Necessity

Why Did Monks Need Wine?

To understand why monks spent so much time in the vineyard, we have to look at their faith. Wine wasn’t just a drink to them; it was a necessity.

The Blood of Christ

At the heart of the Christian mass is the Eucharist. During this ceremony, wine is transformed into the blood of Christ. This meant that a monastery simply could not function without a steady supply of wine. It was as essential to their spiritual life as bread was to their physical survival.

Because the mass happened every day, and often multiple times a day across different chapels within an abbey, the demand was constant. Relying on merchants in a dangerous, war-torn Europe was risky. The only way to guarantee the supply for the Holy Sacrament was to grow the grapes yourself.

The Rule of Hospitality

St. Benedict, who we will discuss later, laid down a strict rule for monks: “All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ.”

Monasteries were the hotels, hospitals, and safe havens of the Middle Ages. Pilgrims, knights, kings, and paupers all knocked on their doors. Turning a guest away was a sin. Part of that welcome involved providing food and drink. Serving wine was a sign of charity and respect. It warmed the traveller and lifted the spirits of the weary.

A Matter of Health

We also have to remember the water. In the Middle Ages, drinking water was often a gamble. It could be tainted with sewage or bacteria. Wine, with its alcohol content and natural acidity, was antiseptic. Mixing a little wine with water made it safe to drink. For the sick and the elderly in the monastic infirmaries, wine was a vital medicine, a calorie booster, and a painkiller.

Part 2: The Benedictine Foundation

St. Benedict and the Balance of Life

In the 6th century, a man named Benedict of Nursia changed everything. He established the Benedictine Order and wrote “The Rule,” a guidebook for monastic life that is still used today. His motto was Ora et Labora—Pray and Work.

Before Benedict, monks were often hermits living in caves. Benedict brought them together into communities. He believed that idleness was the enemy of the soul. Physical labour was a form of prayer. And what labour was more noble, more biblical, and more useful than tending to the vine?

The Daily Allowance

Benedict was a pragmatist. He knew monks were human. While some religious zealots demanded total abstinence, Benedict wrote:

“We believe that a hemina of wine a day is sufficient for each.”

A hemina is roughly half a pint. It wasn’t a huge amount, but it established that wine was allowed, even encouraged, in moderation. This official stamp of approval meant that every Benedictine monastery founded across Europe—from Italy to England—planted a vineyard as soon as the foundation stones were laid.

The Rise of Cluny

By the 10th century, the Benedictine order had grown massive. The Abbey of Cluny in Burgundy became the spiritual centre of Europe. It was vast, powerful, and incredibly wealthy.

The monks of Cluny were the landlords of the Middle Ages. Noblemen, hoping to save their souls, donated huge tracts of land to the abbey. Much of this land was prime vineyard territory. The Black Monks (named for their black robes) didn’t always work the fields themselves; they had serfs and lay brothers for that. But they managed the production, and their cellars were legendary. They proved that wine could generate immense wealth, which they used to build grand cathedrals to the glory of God.

Part 3: The Cistercian Revolution

The White Monks and the Soil

As Cluny grew rich, some monks felt the order had lost its way. They thought the Black Monks were too comfortable, too disconnected from the hard labour St. Benedict had wanted.

In 1098, a group of breakaway monks founded a new abbey at Cîteaux, just south of Dijon in France. These were the Cistercians, or the White Monks. They wanted to return to poverty, simplicity, and hard manual labour. They settled in swamps and forests—land nobody else wanted.

It turns out, the land nobody wanted was perfect for grapes.

The Invention of ‘Terroir’

The Cistercians are the true heroes of wine history. Because they worked the land with their own hands, they developed an intimate relationship with the soil. They were obsessive observers.

They noticed something fascinating: grapes grown in this field tasted different from grapes grown in that field, even if the fields were right next to each other.

They began to map the soil. They tasted the dirt (some historians say this literally, others metaphorically) to understand its composition. They tracked where the sun hit the slope, where the frost settled, and where the drainage was best.

Over hundreds of years, they drew lines around specific plots of land that produced the best wine. They built stone walls around them. These walled vineyards, or clos, still exist today. The most famous, the Clos de Vougeot in Burgundy, was established by Cistercians. They identified that the top of the slope made grand wine, the middle made good wine, and the bottom made table wine.

This is the concept of terroir—the idea that the wine expresses the place it comes from. We didn’t have a word for it until the monks proved it existed.

Selecting the Grapes

The Cistercians were also ruthless editors. If a grape variety didn’t perform well, they ripped it out. Through centuries of trial and error, they realized that the Pinot Noir grape and the Chardonnay grape were the perfect vessels for the limestone soils of Burgundy. They standardized the varieties, ensuring quality over quantity.

Part 4: Beyond Burgundy – The Spread of Viticulture

While France is the heart of this story, the monastic influence spread throughout Europe. Wherever the Bible went, the vine followed.

The Rhine and the Riesling

In Germany, the Cistercians founded Kloster Eberbach in the Rheingau region (famous today for the film The Name of the Rose). The climate here was colder and harsher than in France. The monks realized that red grapes struggled to ripen.

They discovered that a specific white grape, later known as Riesling, thrived in the slate soil and cool air. It produced wines that were aromatic, elegant, and could age for decades. They turned the steep banks of the Rhine river into a terraced garden of vines.

The Loire and the Chenin Blanc

In the Loire Valley, the Abbey of St. Nicholas planted vines on the slopes of Savennières. They cultivated Chenin Blanc, creating dry, sharp wines that could cut through the rich, fatty foods of the region.

England’s Forgotten Vineyards

Even in England, before the climate cooled in the later Middle Ages and before King Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries, monks were growing grapes. There were vineyards in Glastonbury and outside London. While the wine might not have rivalled Burgundy, it was drinkable and holy.

Part 5: Myths and Legends – The Case of Dom Pérignon

Did a Monk Invent Champagne?

No figure in wine history is more famous than Dom Pierre Pérignon. Legend tells us he was a blind monk who accidentally invented sparkling wine and shouted, “Come quickly, I am drinking the stars!”

It is a wonderful story. It is also mostly untrue.

The Real Dom Pérignon

Dom Pérignon was the cellar master at the Abbey of Hautvillers in the late 1600s (towards the end of our period, but vital to the legacy). He was not blind; he needed good eyes to inspect the grapes.

Here is the irony: Dom Pérignon spent his life trying to stop the wine from bubbling.

In the cold winters of Champagne, the fermentation process would stop because the yeast went dormant. The monks would bottle the wine. When spring came and the weather warmed up, the yeast woke up and started eating the remaining sugar, creating carbon dioxide. This gas had nowhere to go, so the bottles exploded.

To Pérignon, bubbles were a fault. They were dangerous (exploding glass could blind a worker) and a sign of instability.

His True Genius

However, Dom Pérignon was a genius for other reasons.

The Art of Blending: He realized that mixing grapes from different vineyards created a more balanced wine.
White Wine from Black Grapes: He perfected the technique of pressing red grapes gently so the juice ran clear, creating white wine.
The Cork: He reintroduced the use of cork stoppers (replacing oil-soaked rags or wood), which sealed the wine much better.

While he didn’t invent the bubbles, his pursuit of perfection laid the groundwork for the Champagne industry.

Part 6: The Innovation of Technology

The monasteries were the factories of the Middle Ages. They had the resources to build big and the literacy to record what worked.

The Press

Peasant farmers crushed grapes with their feet. It was cheap, but inefficient. Monasteries built massive wooden beam presses. These giant machines could exert huge pressure, extracting every drop of juice from the skins. This increased yield and allowed them to make different styles of wine (free-run juice vs. pressed juice).

The Cellar

Monks understood that wine needed stability to age. They dug deep caves and cellars beneath their abbeys. These underground rooms maintained a constant cool temperature and high humidity, perfect for storing barrels. Some of these cellars are still in use today, standing as a testament to their engineering skills.

Commercial Powerhouses

By the late Middle Ages, monasteries were international corporations. They didn’t just drink their wine; they sold it. They had trade routes down the rivers to the cities of Europe. The wine from a top abbey was a brand name. If you bought wine from Cîteaux or Eberbach, you knew you were getting quality. It was the medieval equivalent of a “Quality Assurance” sticker.

Part 7: The End of an Era and the Living Legacy

The Secular Shift

The dominance of monastic wine began to fade with the Renaissance and the rise of the merchant class. But the real end came with political upheaval.

In England, Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries in the 1530s, seizing their lands. In France, the Revolution of 1789 was the final blow. The revolutionaries viewed the church as corrupt landowners. They confiscated the vineyards of Burgundy and Champagne, auctioned them off, and split them up among local families.

This is why, if you look at a map of a famous vineyard like Clos de Vougeot today, it is owned by 80 different growers, not one abbey. The monks were kicked out, but their vines remained.

The Legacy in Your Glass

So, what is the legacy of these “Dark Age” saviours?

The Map of Wine: The regions we consider “classic” today—Burgundy, the Rhine, the Loire—are classic because monks chose them.
Varietals: We drink Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Riesling because monks selected them.
Quality Standards: The idea that low yields and specific pruning lead to better wine is a monastic invention.

The next time you pull a cork, look at the label. If you see a name like “Clos,” “Abbey,” “Mission,” or “Dom,” you are seeing a nod to the past.

The Dark Ages were not so dark after all. In the quiet of the cloister, while empires rose and fell outside, the monks were carefully tending the vines, ensuring that culture, faith, and joy would survive to fill our glasses today.

Monks and Monasteries: The Saviours of Wine in the Dark Ages