It sounds like the setup to a dark comedy or a bizarre piece of historical fiction: a courtroom filled with clergy, legal officials gathered in their robes, and a lawyer preparing to defend… rats. Yet this scene unfolded not in satire, but in real life. In the early 16th century, in the French town of Autun, a plague of rats that had devoured the local barley crop found themselves formally summoned to court. Their defense attorney, Bartholomew Chasseneuz, would become a legend for mounting one of the most unusual legal arguments in European history.
Today, the idea of animals standing trial seems absurd, but in medieval and early Renaissance Europe, this was a form of justice deeply rooted in religious belief, superstition, and a worldview where humans and animals shared moral responsibility. The trial of the rats is one of the most fascinating examples — not because of its outcome, but because of the creativity, intelligence, and legal showmanship displayed by a lawyer who took the case seriously.
Animals in the Courtroom: A Medieval Tradition
From the 13th to the 18th century, European law regularly charged animals with crimes. Pigs were tried for killing children, horses for harming their owners, even insects for ruining vineyards. These trials followed formal legal procedures: witnesses testified, prosecutors presented accusations, and animals were assigned defenders.
To modern observers, this is pure absurdity. But in medieval thought, animals were part of God’s moral universe and thus subject to ecclesiastical authority. If a creature committed harm, it was not merely a nuisance — it was a disruption to divine order. Taking the matter to court reaffirmed social stability and spiritual purity.
Yet few trials became as famous — or as strangely compelling — as the one involving a swarm of rats.
The Crime: Destroying the Barley of Autun
In the early 1500s, the town of Autun in Burgundy suffered widespread agricultural destruction. The culprits were identified as rats — hundreds of them — that had infiltrated granaries and fields, devouring the barley crop. The town summoned the offenders to stand before an ecclesiastical court, a common practice for cases involving “lower creatures.”
The summons required the rats to appear on a specified day to face judgment for their destructive behavior. Predictably, none showed up. That is where the case might have ended — except the court appointed a remarkable lawyer to defend them.
Enter Bartholomew Chasseneuz: The Lawyer Who Took Rats Seriously
Bartholomew Chasseneuz was no fool. Brilliant, sharp-tongued, and deeply knowledgeable in canon law, he would later become one of France’s most respected jurists. But at the time of the rat trial, he was young and ambitious — and determined to win every case he was given, no matter how outlandish.
Chasseneuz approached the rats’ defense with the same rigor he would give any human client. His argument began with a procedural objection: the rats had not appeared in court because they had never been properly served notice. The summons, he argued, must be read in every village where a rat might reside — not just in Autun.
The court accepted this and postponed the trial to allow proper notification.
But Chasseneuz was not done.
The Defense: A Masterpiece of Legal Ingenuity
When the rats once again failed to appear, the prosecution demanded a guilty verdict. Chasseneuz rose and delivered one of the most creative legal arguments in history.
He argued that the rats had not refused the summons — they were physically unable to attend. To reach the courthouse, they would need to travel dangerous roads filled with predators: cats.
Therefore, he insisted, the rats had a legal right to safe passage. And since the court could not guarantee their safety — the town could not reasonably keep every cat indoors — the rats could not be expected to appear.
His argument was so clever, so rooted in genuine legal principles regarding safe conduct, that the court dismissed the case.
The rats were acquitted.
What This Trial Reveals About Medieval Society
Although amusing today, the rat trial exposes several deeper truths about the era:
1. Law was performative.
Medieval courts often served as public rituals reaffirming spiritual and social order. Trying animals was less about justice and more about symbolically righting a wrong.
2. Lawyers were expected to defend anything — even the absurd.
Chasseneuz’s defense wasn’t just clever; it demonstrated the seriousness with which legal roles were treated.
3. Society believed animals were moral agents.
People saw the natural world as connected to God’s justice. When crops were destroyed, it wasn’t just ecology — it was sin, punishment, or disorder.
4. It reflects early legal sophistication.
Chasseneuz’s safe-conduct argument eventually influenced legal doctrine, showing how even strange cases helped develop real law.
The Legacy of the Rat Trial
Over time, the story of Bartholomew Chasseneuz defending rats became legal legend — cited by scholars, discussed in universities, and even referenced in debates about animal rights centuries later. The case stands as a reminder that the history of law is full of bizarre, unexpected moments that shaped its evolution.
It also highlights the bizarre intersection of superstition, religion, and early jurisprudence. In a world that saw divine meaning everywhere — even in rodents eating barley — courts felt compelled to address wrongdoing wherever it occurred, whether committed by man or beast.
Why the Story Still Captivates Us
What makes the rat trial endlessly fascinating is not just the absurdity of the idea, but what it reveals about human psychology. When faced with destruction, fear, or uncertainty, societies seek order — sometimes through logical means, sometimes through symbolic ones. Chasseneuz understood that the trial was not truly about rats; it was about restoring moral coherence to a shaken community.
The story is darkly humorous, but it is also deeply human. It captures an era when the boundary between the natural and moral world was blurred, when justice served both practical and spiritual roles, and when a brilliant lawyer could win a case simply by insisting that rats had the right to “safe passage.”