Review: Romans, Barbarians and the Transformation of the Roman World

Ralph W. Mathisen and Danuta Shanzer, eds., Romans, Barbarians and the Transformation of the Roman World, Surrey: Ashgate (2011) Pp 379, xix. ISBN: 978-0-7546-6814-5.

This useful book evolved from the Sixth Biennial Shifting Frontiers in Late Antiquity Conference held at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign in March, 2005. The essays contained in the book are, to a large extent, those given at the conference. They are, of course, updated and revised and some additional essays have been added.

This volume contains 25 essays. Attempting to review these, even in a cursory fashion, is impractical for a blog review. Instead I will attempt to provide an overview of the volume, while focusing on a select few essays.

A list of the essays is as follows:

Introduction, Ralph W. Mathisen and Danuta Shanzer

Part I: Constructing Images of the Impact and Identity of Barbarians

A. Literary Constructions of Barbarian Identity
1. Catalogues of Barbarians in Late Antiquity, Ralph W. Mathisen
2. Augustine and the Merciful Barbarians, Gillian Clark
3. Reguli in the Roman empire, Late Antiquity and the Early Medieval Germanic Kingdoms, Steven Fanning;
4. Were the Sasanians barbarians? Roman Writers on the ‘Empire of the Persians’, Scott McDonough
5. A Roman image of the ‘Barbarian’ Sasanians, Jan Willem Drijvers

B. Political and Religious Interpretations of Barbarian Activities
6. Banditry or Catastrophe?: History, Archaeology and Barbarian Raids on Roman Greece, Amelia Robertson Brown
7. John Rufus, Timothy Aelurus, and the Fall of the Western Roman Empire, Edward Watts

C. Imperial Manipulation of Perceptions of Barbarians
8. Imperial Religious Unification Policy and its Divisive Consequences: Diocletian, the Jews and the Samaritans, Yuval Shahar
9. Hellenes, Barbarians and Christians: Religion and Identity Politics in Diocletian’s Rome, Elizabeth DePalma Digeser
10. Barbarians as Spectacle: the Account of an Ancient ‘Embedded Reporter’ (Symm. Or. 2.10–12), Cristiana Sogno

Part II: Cultural Interaction on the Roman/Barbarian Frontiers

A. Becoming Roman: Movements of People across the Frontier and the Effects of Imperial Policies
11. The ius colonatus as a Model for the Settlement of Barbarian Prisoners-of-War in the Late Roman Empire?, Cam Grey
12. Spies Like Us: Treason and Identity in the Late Roman Empire, Kimberly Kagan
13. The ‘Runaway’ Avars and Late Antique Diplomacy, Ekaterina Nechaeva

B. Becoming Roman: Social and Economic Interchange
14. Captivity and Romano-barbarian Interchange, Noel Lenski
15. Barbarian Raiders and Barbarian Peasants: Models of Ideological and Economic Integration, Hartmut Ziche

C. A New Era of Accommodation
16. Kush and Rome on the Egyptian Southern Frontier: Where Barbarians Worshipped as Romans and Romans Worshipped as Barbarians, Salim Faraji
17. Petra and the Saracens: New Evidence from a Recently Discovered Epigram, Jason Moralee
18. Elusive places: a Chorological Approach to Identity and Territory in Scythia Minor (Second-Seventh centuries), Linda Ellis
19. Barbarian Traffic, Demon Oaths, and Christian Scruples: (Aug. Epist. 46–47), Kevin Uhalde

Part III: Creating Identity in the Post-Roman World

20. Visigothic Settlement, Hospitalitas, and Army Payment Reconsidered, Andreas Schwarcz
21. Building an Ethnic Identity for a New Gothic and Roman Nobility: Córdoba, 615 AD, Luis A. García Moreno
22. Vascones and Visigoths: Creation and Transformation of Identity in Northern Spain in Late Antiquity, Scott de Brestian
23. Identity and Ethnicity in the Era of Migrations and Barbarian Kingdoms in the Light of Archaeology in Gaul, Patrick Périn and Michel Kazanski
24. Text, Artifact and Genome: the Disputed Nature of the Anglo-Saxon Migration into Britain, Michael E. Jones

Part IV Epilogue: Modern Constructions of Barbarian Identity

25. Auguste Moutié, Pioneer of Merovingian Archaeology and the Spurlock Merovingian Collection at the University of Illinois, Bailey Young and Barbara Oehlschlaeger-Garvey

As is evident from the titles, these essays cover a broad range of topics. Even so, it is impossible to cover everything. I would have liked to see more information on economic systems. Ziche’s essay is the only one which addresses this in any depth, and even this is from the perspective of Roman attitudes toward barbarians and how they might impact economic systems, not the systems themselves. The majority of the essays are written from the perspective of what Romans and barbarians thought of the “other.” This is a very useful course of inquiry however the reader should not expect this volume to discuss what was happening so much as the opinions of the players, largely Romans (where far more evidence exists), regarding what was happening. This focus involves a great deal of analysis of textual source material.

There is not one essay I consider to be bad, or of poor quality. This is rather remarkable with this many titles. I will focus on a few which piqued my interest however this should not be taken to reflect on the quality of the others; it is simply a measure of my interests and where a particular essay showed or taught me something I found valuable.

Disparaging passages about the barbarians are a common theme among authors of Late Antiquity. Galla Placidia is described as disgracing her heritage in marrying a barbarian king. Claudian reserved some of his most critical remarks regarding Rufinus in describing him as a barbarian sympathizer. Others, such as Jerome, Salvian, and Prosper of Aquitaine considered the barbarians to be a source of great destruction and hardship. In “Augustine and the Merciful Barbarians,” (33-42) Gillian Clark opens with a notable passage from Prudentius’ Contra Symmachum in which she states, But Roman and barbarian stand as far apart as quadruped from biped, or as dumb from speaking …. (33) She then proceeds to discuss Augustine’s writings regarding the barbarians and how he portrayed them differently.

For Augustine, barbarians can be considered a sign of God’s mercy. While he describes them as savages, one step above animals, in City of God he stresses how, during the 410 sack of Rome, they allowed citizens to take refuge in Christian shrines. He credits God with allowing Alaric, a Christian (Augustine neglects to mention an Arian) to take the city, rather than the pagan Radagaisus. Radagaisus would have enacted unrestrained slaughter while Alaric is described as, “mild in slaughter through the love of God.” (36)

An interesting contrast between Augustine and other Christian authors, in particular Orosius and John Chrysostom, is explored in this essay. Augustine does not appear to consider the barbarians beyond their impact on Rome and their symbolic role as merciful punishers. As Clark says, “As in Rome in 410, so in City of God: the barbarians appear, do some damage, and go away.” (41) Orosius considers the barbarians to be an opportunity to expand Christianity and convert a multitude of others. For him, “… the purpose of the barbarian invasions was to fill the churches.” (38) Chrysostom lists numerous barbarian groups who now subscribe to Christian philosophy. Augustine is not so hopeful. The barbarians are a tool of God, not potential allies and Christians.

In Constantinople on April 12, 409 a law was issued in the names of Honorius and Theodosius regarding the terms under which the Sciri would be settled in the Empire. In, “The ius colonatus as a Model for the Settlement of Barbarian Prisoners-of-War in the Late Roman Empire?” (147-60) Cam Grey explores this text, its meaning, and its implications in developing a more generalized model of barbarian settlement.

Grey explores the status of coloni as stated in laws. They were settled as tenants, usually farmers, under the supervision of a landowner and registered even to a particular field. (151) There were various restrictions on coloni including prohibitions on their alienating property or moving. (151) Even though much of the language discussing coloni is harsh and restrictive, they are explicitly referred to as free and given certain rights and privileges. (152) Prior to the issuance of this law, coloni are known and mentioned in various laws and agreements, however the specifics of their tenure varies substantially with different situations. These agreements generally share three characteristics; dispersing the barbarians so they do not represent a cohesive threat; the prospect of future military service and; coloni being subject to taxation. (157)

The 409 law may represent a new stage in these arrangements. While the law contains the three elements mentioned above, it created a new, explicitly stated private relationship between the settled tenant coloni and the landowner. (159) Grey recognizes that these arrangements may have been customary prior to 409, however this is their first appearance in a text. He sees the placement of responsibility for coloni with private individuals as, “another example of a [Roman] preoccupation in the legislation of the period with control and limitation on the behavior of potentially threatening, liminal groups in society.” (160)

In, “Barbarian Raiders and Barbarian Peasants: Models of Ideological and Economic Integration,” (199-219) Hartmut Ziche explores Roman and Greek stereotypical attitudes towards barbarians and how these stereotypes relate to reality. Stereotypical perceptions of barbarians are not new. They are portrayed as smelly, wild, violent, unkempt, skin-clad, etc. Late Roman sources seem to place barbarians in one of two categories; as raiders or peasants. (200) Once settled, this distinction eased and barbarians disappear from the sources as they are transformed from barbarian settlers to Roman peasants. (202-3). This creates a significant difficulty in assessing the economic impact of barbarian peasants as, based on the sources, they become indistinguishable from native peasants.

Ziche discusses several sources discussing the prospect of settling warlike barbarian invaders in Rome as peasants. In 4th century sources, barbarians are not natural peasants and unsuited to farming. They must be treated harshly and watched carefully. However some sources, such as Themistius, believe that while barbarians are not suited to farming, “… they will in time stop being barbarians and then also become peasants.” (211) During the 4th century the contributions of the barbarians, once settled, to the Roman economy receive virtually no mention.

This begins to change in the fifth century. While the stereotypes continue, authors such as Salvian and Sidonius mention, indirectly, barbarian contributions. (214-6) Ziche believes it possible, and I consider it likely, that this resulted more as a result of the authors being forced to accommodate barbarians and “make the best of it” rather than a true change in their perspectives. The alteration of Roman and Gallo-Roman opinions is largely found beginning in the sixth century.

Throughout this essay, Ziche uses other, often archaeological, evidence to show that the contributions of barbarians to the Roman economy were much more substantial than the sources indicate. However the most interesting conclusion in the paper is that the opinion (at least among source authors) of barbarians and the stereotypes used in sources changed very little even into the last days of the empire.

Part III of this book is excellent. In, “Vascones and Visigoths: Creation and Transformation of Identity in Northern Spain in Late Antiquity,” (283-97) Scott de Brestian examines the consensus that “… the Basques of the High Middle Ages were the descendants of the Vascones that appear in peninsular and Frankish sources of the sixth and seventh centuries, who in turn were ethnically identical to the Vascones of the Roman period.” (286) Brestian considers this to be largely a creation of nationalistic and racially motivated perspectives and that when textual and archaeological sources are examined closely the creation of the Basques should not be seen in this manner. While the roots of the Basques may be the product of a confluence of events beginning with the end of the Roman Empire, the continuity of “… ethnic traditions that had existed since time immemorial.” (297) is insupportable.

Patrick Périn and Michel Kazanski in, “Identity and Ethnicity in the Era of Migrations and Barbarian Kingdoms in the Light of Archaeology in Gaul,” examine burials and other archaeological evidence, including pottery, to discuss the acculturation of new barbarian arrivals into the lands of the Roman Empire. While they note some exceptions and in particular the growth among barbarian elites of “… what might be called an ‘international’ barbarian culture resulting from their widespread experiences. …”1 (308) they do not hold with the view of Peter Heather and others that the arrivals represented cohesive ethnic groups, or that whatever ethnicities did exist long survived their settlement in Gaul. They argue that archaeology shows the migrations not as an invasion but that this should instead be viewed as a process of integration.

The final essay I will discuss is Michael Jones’ “Text, Artifact and Genome: the Disputed Nature of the Anglo-Saxon Migration into Britain.” There are two aspects of this essay which I find interesting. One, which I will gloss over with a single statement, is that Jones does not believe that currently available DNA evidence supports a theory of massive Anglo-Saxon migrations. What I found fascinating was his discussion of the type of DNA evidence necessary to draw any real conclusions. Currently, most of this work has been done by examining the DNA and genetic patterns of modern inhabitants of different regions and attempting to work backwards to reach conclusions regarding settlement and migration patterns. He believes that there are inherent methodological flaws with this approach and that it “… can inform but not answer the question of the nature of the Anglo-Saxon migrations.” (339) Instead he believes that archaeologically recovered DNA is the only reliable genetic evidence which should be used to reach any sort of conclusions regarding the migrations. “If and when large samples of DNA recovered from both eastern Britain and the continental homelands before and after the Anglo-Saxon migrations can be compared, we will be in a position more confidently to assess the genetic changes associated with the Anglo-Saxon migrations.” (339)

This is an excellent book. The editors are to be commended for the variety of subjects addressed and the quality of the contributions. As I stated above, there is not one essay which I consider weak, a rather remarkable statement. There are another eight essays which I believe are as worthy of discussion as those I chose to mention, and remember that even this statement is based on my primary areas of interest. This book is a welcome addition to the study of Late Antiquity and one which I am certain I will refer back to regularly.

1 I want to be clear that they do not consider this to be associated with ethnic origins. “One should not be surprised that the material culture of this princely barbarian caste was very international in flavor, and that the splendid artifacts from their graves or the treasure finds of the period usually do not betray the geo-cultural origins of their owners.” (308)

 

The Case of Radegund’s Missing Brother

As I mentioned in my first Radegund post, I originally intended to discuss this issue there. I’m interested enough in this item to give it its own space.

As I’ve read accounts of Radegund, one item has begun to trouble me. Radegund left Clothar because he murdered her brother. 1 I’ve read a theory that he was a threat because he was last of a royal Thuringian line and that he may have been active in a revolt against Clothar.

Here’s my problem with the brother. He has no name. Gregory and Fortunatus both mention him, but he’s an anonymous figure. A substantial poem, “The Thuringian War,” was written either by Radegund or by Fortunatus with Radegund’s input. A large portion of this poem, written from Radegund’s point of view, laments her dead brother, yet he remains nameless. 2 As I’ve read more books on the Merovingians, Radegund is consistently mentioned and each time I’ve read, “Radegund left Chlothar after he murdered her brother,” I asked myself, “And who was this brother, exactly?” For some time I’ve been wondering; Did he really exist?

I have two reasons for questioning this. First and what really stands out for me is the simple fact of his namelessness. Gregory and Fortunatus wrote after Radegund’s death, roughly 40 years after she left Clothar. They were both well acquainted with Radegund. Gregory was bishop of Tours, just down the road from The Convent of the Holy Cross and conducted her funeral, even though he wasn’t her bishop. Fortunatus corresponded with her regularly and wrote poems for her. In the decades the two of them knew her, with this being the trigger; the single key, life-altering incident by which she entered into a religious life, she never mentioned him by name to either of them? If her brother’s murder bothered her enough to drive her from her husband, you’d think he would be important enough to be named.

Second, leaving one’s husband was a big friggin’ deal. It was highly frowned upon. There are plenty of cases of women seeking to leave their husbands for a religious life and being forced to return. 3 For whatever reason, Clothar didn’t seem to try to get her back very hard and in fact helped her establish The Convent of the Holy Cross. All I can do is conjecture but he’d been married to her for 10-15 years, she’d had no children, he had either other wives or a houseful of concubines, depending on the account you read, and she didn’t seem to be very interested in sex or even very affectionate toward him. When given a choice she’d rather lie stretch out on an unheated stone floor in a hair shirt next to the privy than lie in bed with him. Beyond this, he never knew when she might chuck money at poor people or stir up his entire household whenever he decided to execute a criminal. 4 Maybe he decided that her being gone was OK by him.

But 40 years later, there had to be a reason. Gregory and Fortunatus, in promoting her as a Saint, had to come up with a darn good explanation for why a woman could legitimately leave her husband for the Church. They would also have scrupulously tried to avoid any implication that it was OK to just leave one’s husband without a very good reason. An anonymous Thuringian brother would do just fine for these purposes. Thuringia was a new addition to the Frankish holdings and people wouldn’t be very familiar with it. But if you mentioned a name, there was a chance someone might say, “Huh? Who was that? I fought in Thuringia and I don’t remember him. You say he was heir to the Thuringian throne?” But a nameless brother from an obscure region? That stood a much better chance of passing muster. 5

A bigger issue is the poem, The Thuringian War, generally attributed to Radegund but sometimes to Fortunatus. This gives me the same problem. Writing decades later, this reads very much as an ode to Radegund’s brother, a lament that she had not honored him more – and she doesn’t mention him by name? This namelessness of a loved relative is huge for me. Names are how people were remembered. People were entered into prayer rolls by name – not as, “the brother of Radegund” (for this, I won’t say this never happened but I’m unaware of it). Panegyrics, which Radegund and Fortunatus would have been familiar with, are remembrances of a person with a name. Yet in 34 lines about her brother he is not named one time. This of course brings Radegund inventing her brother rather than Gregory or Fortunatus into the picture, if she was indeed the author. She would have had sound reasons for doing so, including explaining to Constantinople why a fragment of The One True Cross should be entrusted to someone who had deserted her husband. 6

An additional but relatively minor argument is that Baudonivia makes no mention of a brother in her account of Radegund’s taking the veil. She would have read it in Fortunatus’ account but chose not to include it in hers. This seems somewhat odd as the reasons for Radegund’s entrance into religious life is a pretty vital aspect of her story. However I consider it minor because a counter argument is that Baudonivia would have considered Radegund to be acting from a purer motivation if she left for the love of Christ, not from bitterness over the loss of a loved one – altruistic vs. selfish reasons. 7

As always, this is not completely one-sided. Chlothar killing a Thuringian noble who may have been a threat to him is hardly shocking and may even be considered legitimate if Thuringians were involved in a Saxon revolt. Of course if we take that to the next logical step, Radegund’s leaving loses legitimacy if her husband was acting against her brother in a justifiable manner to secure his control over the kingdom. 8

The simple fact that the brother exists and was written about by at least two and perhaps three separate authors also must be taken into account. However I believe that, as close as these three were with one another based on the source evidence, it is reasonable to posit one of the three as the initial source with the other two not questioning the account but adding it to their writings. And when we come to the possibility of this being an invention, I’ve previously said that I do not believe Gregory was a liar. I’ve not studied Fortunatus as closely but I have no reason to consider him as anything other than basically truthful. However I doubt that either of them would consider embellishing a story in promotion of a Saint’s cult to be lying. This seems to be a well accepted hagiographical convention.

Finally, there’s the potential fallout from Fortunatus and Gregory, and possibly even Radegund, making up a story that would portray Chlothar in a negative way. They would not bring this up if they thought doing so would seriously threaten their own safety and welfare. (I don’t believe so anyway, though Gregory had shown a fair degree of bravery in his conflicts with Chilperic and Leudast.)

This last is the most difficult aspect for me to evaluate. Chlothar had a bunch of kids and some of them were pretty powerful. However all were dead by the time the Radegund accounts were written, though not the The Thuringian War, if we accept its inclusion in the Byzantine mission. There were plenty of grandchildren living, some of them also powerful but it’s difficult to say how they would perceive the killing of a Thuringian, last of a royal line that their grandfather had gone to war with. And it’s very possible they wouldn’t have known enough about events from forty years past to even raise a protest against the account of the murder. I don’t see a lot in the family line which would have prevented Gregory or Fortunatus from making up this part of the story. Maybe Fredegund would have been concerned with the reputation of Chilperic’s father, Chlothar, but Gregory’s writings already reveal that he didn’t much care what she thought of his writings. Another option is that Radegund herself started the story with her poem, The Thuringian War. By around 570 (when the poem is believed to have been written) she was largely immune from threats. And keep in mind, the poem went to Constantinople. No one in Francia needed to have known about it, if the poem actually went there and wasn’t something written by Fortunatus and not disseminated until his poems were published.

In the end, I think the existence of Radegund’s brother is in question, with the balance of the evidence against it. He is unnamed even in a poem where he is a major character, there is a real need, in the eyes of the biographers (and Radegund herself), to come up with an explanation for Radegund’s leaving her husband, and I can’t find a compelling reason why Gregory, Fortunatus, or Radegund would be threatened by coming up with this story – in fact the grandchildren may not have known enough to call it into question. I think Radegund’s brother was a literary invention to provide justification for her leaving her husband for the Church in order to aid in the promotion of her cult. (I could go on – I have more – but this is a blog post, not a paper.)

It puzzles me that I’ve not run across this argument before. If someone knows of anyone discussing this, please let me know. 9 The historicity of Radegund’s brother seems to be unquestioned by modern historians.

Abbreviations used in notes:

VR I – Vita Radegundii by Venantius Fortunatus
VR II – Vita Radegundii by Baudonivia (These are usually referred to as books I and II of her Vita) Both found in McNamara, et al. (1992).

1 VR I.12, “Thus her innocent brother was killed so that she might come to live in religion.”

2 For Gregory, Historiae III.7

3 Rather than listing names, let me quote James Brundage (1987), discussing the 6th-11th centuries, “Discussions of this possibility [leaving one’s spouse for religious life] emphasized that the decision must be mutual; no one could unilaterally terminate a marriage in order to enter a monastery or convent. Anyone who attempted to do so should be refused admission to the religious life and required to resume co-habitation with his or her spouse.” p. 202.

4 For Radegund’s sleeping habits see VR I.5. For condemned criminals see VR I.10.

5 I’ve seen secondary accounts that say Radegund’s brother was also captured and held as a hostage. If true, this would be much harder to hide but I haven’t seen this in any of the source material.

6 McNamara, et al.,(1992) contains a translation of the poem on pp 65-70. They indicate that the poem is commonly believed to have accompanied the mission to Constantinople to recover a fragment of The One True Cross to be delivered to a relative of Radegund’s, but it was found in an appendix of Fortunatus’ verses. p 65, n 22

7 VR II.3

8 The theory about Radegund’s brother being involved in a revolt or other treacherous activities is only mentioned in secondary analyses of the incident. I am unaware of any source material calling this anything but a murder. For Gregory, Historiae III.7, he was murdered by assassins. For Fortunatus, see note 1, above. In The Thuringian War he is referred to as murdered.

9 I went six pages deep with a Google search using the term, “Did Radegund’s brother exist?” without finding any discussion of the question.

Brundage, James A., Law, Sex, and Christian Society in Medieval Europe. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press (1987). ISBN: 9-780226-077840

George, Judith, trans., Venantius Fortunatus: Personal and Political Poems. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press (1995). ISBN: 9-780853-231790

McNamara, Jo Ann, Halborg, John E. and Whatley, Gordon, ed. and trans., Sainted Women of the Dark Ages. Durham and London: Duke University Press (1992). ISBN: 978-0822312000

Thorpe, Lewis, trans., Gregory of Tours: The History of the Franks. London: Penguin Books (1974). ISBN: 9-780140-442953

 

If You Couldn’t Live as a Virgin at Least You Could Die as One

I originally had written a much longer post but I have one significant aspect of Radegund’s portrayal (or at least I consider it significant) that I decided deserves its own post, which will follow soon. Don’t worry, it’s mostly written since I simply copied it from this one.

One of my favorite Saints is Radegund. There are a lot of reasons for this. First and foremost, she’s a Merovingian woman and women and peasants are, IMO, the two most underrepresented groups in the Middle Ages, even more so in the Early MA. Second, we have a lot of source material for her. 1 Third, some of the source material says different things. And finally, it’s just a good story. She ranks high on my list of favorite Dead Holy People.

I recently finished reading Transformations of Late Antiquity: Essays for Peter Brown by Philip Rousseau and Manolis Papoutsakis. It’s a good book with some pretty solid essays. So I’m reading along and I get to Essay XVI, “Radegundis peccatrix: Authorizations of Virginity in Late Antique Gaul,” by Julia M. H. Smith. Good deal – I know Radegund pretty well. Then Dr. Smith writes, “Because she read about virginity, wrote about it and, although not herself a virgin, was extensively written about in virginal terms, she should be evaluated in the context of late antique virginity literature.” (304-305) Cool.

The remainder of the essay talks about how Radegund was portrayed by her various biographers – Gregory of Tours, Venantius Fortunatus and Baudonivia. The vita written by Fortunatus is equated with that of Eugenia who underwent symbolic martyrdom. Good essay.

But I’m going to go in a bit of a different direction and offer my own interpretation of Radegund and how she was portrayed. I can do that because this is my blog and also because I’m not a historian so I can chuck words around when the topic is fun and not damage my professional reputation too much. And I think the Radegund story is fun, from an analytical point of view – there’s a lot to work with.

A brief bio is probably the first order of business. Radegund was born around 520 in Thuringia and was captured around 531 by Clothar/Lothar. She received schooling and became a Christian before marrying Clothar around 540. Somewhere around 550-555 Clothar killed her brother and Radegund fled to Menard where she was consecrated as a deaconess. Around 560 she founded the Convent of the Holy Cross in Poitiers and was named Abbess. She ruled the convent until her death in 586/7 with two notable accomplishments; adopting the rule of Caesarius of Arles and being given a fragment of the One True Cross by Justin II.

We have three main sources for her. Gregory of Tours provides most of his information in his Histories but she also is mentioned in Glory of the Confessors and Glory of the Martyrs. Venantius Fortunatus wrote a vita and she is mentioned frequently in his poems. Baudonivia, a nun from Radegund’s convent, also wrote a vita. All of these, except the poems which are often addressed to her, were composed after her death. These sources have some interesting things to say about Radegund and I think they are very enlightening as to how biographers would portray a subject to promote his or her cult.

Fortunatus’ vita is of most interest to me. While it is never claimed that she is a virgin, virgin references fill the account. It starts early on, “Therefore, though married to a terrestrial prince, she was not separated from the celestial one … she was more Christ’s partner than her husband’s companion.” 2 And, “Because of this, people said that the King had yoked himself to a monacha rather than a queen.” 3 Also, “Who could believe how she would pour out her heart in prayers when the king was away? How she would cling to the feet of Christ as though He were present with her and satiate her long hunger with tears as though she was gorging on delicacies! She had contempt for the food of the belly, for Christ was her only nourishment and all her hunger was for Christ.” 4

So, though trapped in an Earthly marriage, she was at heart a bride of Christ. Of course once she moved into a convent that eased off and the martyrdom began. Even while living with the king she would wear a hair cloth for religious holidays and would regularly lie on the stone floor, praying, under a hair cloth. 5

Once she moved to the convent, things began in earnest. She ate no meat, fish or eggs and gave up bread and drank very little water during the Quadragesima (Lent). 6

But it gets better (or worse). Once during Lent she encircled her neck and arms with iron bands and inserted chains into them. Her body swelled around these to where the chains were embedded in her flesh. 7 During another Lent she took a brass plate “shaped in the sign of Christ,” heated it and pressed it against herself so her flesh was roasted. Another time she took a basin full of burning coals and, “She drew it to herself, so that she might be a martyr though it was not an age of persecution.” 8

Of course mixed in with the burning and freezing and starving and hair cloths were a bunch of acts of charity and miracles. I won’t go into these because they’re pretty standard fare but Radegund’s re-virgination and martyrdom are very interesting, particularly because, while virginity was prized, married Saints, even with kids, are known. 9

In contrast, while Baudonivia mentions the hair shirts and fasting, as well as other acts of abstinence and asceticism, she doesn’t say anything about the self-mutilations Fortunatus relates. Fortunatus chose to portray her as removed from the world but Baudonivia, who knew of his vita and wrote hers as a complement to it, discusses her letter writing, her actions on behalf of the Church and individuals, her traveling to collect relics and, most importantly, her efforts to gain a fragment of The One True Cross from Justin II, the Byzantine Emperor.

Two very different accounts and it’s pretty clear from the use of language and from the incidents mentioned that Fortunatus wanted Radegund to be considered a virgin, or as close to this as someone who had been sexually active could be, and he also wanted her to be considered a martyr. Neither was a requirement to be named a Saint but Fortunatus was clearly a big fan.

Radegund is a great figure to examine. Her vitae and other accounts have everything. You have your violence, you have a martyrdom account, re-virgination – the only thing you don’t have is sex and for that, check out Gregory’s account about what happened to the Convent after Radegund died. 10

Abbreviations used in notes:

VR I – Vita Radegundii by Venantius Fortunatus
VR II – Vita Radegundii by Baudonivia (These are usually referred to as books I and II of her Vita) Both found in McNamara, et al. (1992).

1 Of course it would be nice to have even more. Radegund wrote a lot of letters but unfortunately only one has survived.

2 VR I.3

3 VR I.4 According to McNamara, Halborg and Whatley(1992), the word monacha is a term which later fell out of usage to be replaced by sanctimonial which they translate as nun.

4 VR I.6

5 VR I.5,6

6 VR I.22. At one time Quadragesima could mean any Christian ritual of fasting and prayer but as Fortunatus consistently identifies this as if it were the only one, without providing additional information, it seems almost certain that this was the Lenten Fast.

7 VR I.25

8 VR I.26. This type of self-abuse is rare in hagiography. Saints almost always engaged in some sort of ascetic, strict lifestyle which is portrayed as unpleasant and quite frequently they wore hair shirts or engaged in self-flagellation however behavior such as Fortunatus portrays Radegund as engaging in is unusual.

9 For example, Monegund and Chrothilda. Also, Angela Kinney recounts several of these, though later than this period, in her paper, “The Elusive ‘Happy Marriage’ in Hagiography,” given at the 2010 International Congress on Medieval Studies in Kalamazoo, Michigan.

10 What you basically had was a Medieval version of Girls Gone Wild. A revolt in the nunnery, prostitution, pregnant nuns, etc. Gregory gives quite the account. See, Historiae IX.39-43 and X.15-17.

Special Note: Sometimes events happen that slap you in the face. This post had mostly been written when the news story about women undergoing “virginity checks” in Egypt came out. I scrupulously steer clear of current events in this blog. However I want to stress that though I am somewhat light in my use of the term “re-virgination” and with the title of this post I am not, in any way whatsoever, as light about the abuses and atrocities committed upon women in the name of sexuality and sexual reputation. In a world where “honor killings” are committed because a woman has the temerity to be sexually active, where women go to prison for being raped, where female genital mutilation and operations to restore hymens are commonplace, it is impossible for these things to be taken lightly. I’m going to leave the post as written (I considered a total re-write) because I do think the examination of how biographers portrayed their subjects is fun however these things happening in our world today are atrocities. I hope the tone I wrote this post in will not offend anyone. This note may well take some of the fun out of it, and that’s OK.

Sources:

George, Judith, trans., Venantius Fortunatus: Personal and Political Poems. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press (1995). ISBN: 9-780853-231790

McNamara, Jo Ann, Halborg, John E. and Whatley, Gordon, ed. and trans., Sainted Women of the Dark Ages. Durham and London: Duke University Press (1992). ISBN: 978-0822312000

Rousseau, Philip and Papoutsakis, Manolis, eds., Transformations of Late Antiquity: Essays for Peter Brown. Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing Company (2009). ISBN: 9-780754-665533

Thorpe, Lewis, trans., Gregory of Tours: The History of the Franks. London: Penguin Books (1974). ISBN: 9-780140-442953

 

Of Gregory, Miracles, Daily Life and Flatulence

I hope folks think this post is filled with very little of the last but I needed a catchy name – my readership has been down the last few weeks and I’m not venturing into the world of cool marginalia just yet.

I’ll get to the important stuff later but Gregory has a thing with bodily fluids. Not every time, but quite frequently when someone is healed something is expelled as a sign of healing. He gives us blood flowing from the eyes of the blind, vomiting up of blood and pus for those with stomach pains, more vomiting of blood and/or pus for mutes – when folks get healed, the badness leaves their bodies in a very tangible manner.

The same holds true for demons – they are usually vomited out. And in one case, I had to chuckle. Apparently the oil from St. Martin’s tomb was pretty potent stuff. Aredius of Limoges is cured of a sharp pain by smearing some on himself. A man with an infected hand, a woman possessed of a demon and a blind man were healed. One man was possessed of a demon by the nail of his thumb – expelling this demon drew blood. One of my favorites is, “Since the oil had restored many possessed people to health, he [Aredius] placed some of it on the head of one man who possessed, I think, a more hideous demon. Immediately the man expelled the demon in a blast of air from his bowels.” This brings to mind so many juvenile jokes that if I started with it I might never stop. But the next time I have too much bean dip . . . 1

Gregory’s miracles have much more to say – I just decided to start from the bottom. (OK, they also inspire bad puns). I found it interesting that some of his miracle-workers engaged in a very limited form of healing; effective, apparently, against limited, specific illnesses. For example, Saints Venerandus and Nepotianus take care of people with chills. 2 Bishop Medard of Soissons had a tree growing over his tomb which, if you grabbed a splinter from and used as a toothpick, cured toothaches. 3 Romanus calms the waters of the Garonne River and rescues those about to perish. 4

But that’s not what’s important about the miracle stories, not to me anyway. There are some aspects of history – who did what to whom when and where – but as I mentioned before, I think the most valuable aspects of these is what they tell us about society in 6th century Gaul.

A lot of the time when I jotted down my notes for these the object was fairly simple. Next time I get into a conversation with someone about the Medieval Period and they bring up the; medievals didn’t wash, read, love their children, love their husbands/wives, give two cents about women, etc., I have information to counter them with. This isn’t the only thing I noted, but it’s a big part of it. So while I have notes about the Doctrine of the Bodily Assumption of the Virgin, faith being equated with sustenance, evidence of Bubonic Plague, religious patronage impacting individual advancement, and so on, what I’m going to focus on with this post are those mythbusting talking points.

Abbreviations used in footnotes (Latin name in parentheses):

VM – The Miracles of the Bishop St. Martin (Libri de virtutibus sancti Martini episcopi)
VP – Life of the Fathers (Liber vitae Patrum)
GC – Glory of the Confessors (Liber in gloria confessorum)
GM – Glory of the Martyrs (Liber in gloria martyrum)
HF – History of the Franks (Historiae)

Evidence of Love

Regarding love, one I often hear is, “People in the Middle Ages didn’t love their children.” This is often rationalized as reasoning that because children had such a high mortality rate that people inured themselves to the death of the young by not becoming too attached to them. The obvious counter to this (at least when this reasoning is given) is arguing whether folks in the 19th century didn’t love their children or whether people in very poor countries don’t today. But Gregory provides some ammo too.

A young boy, about a year of age, is starving to death after his mother died. When the boy contracts a fever his father runs to the Church carrying him where he is baptized. As the father weeps, the child appears to die when St. Martin heals him. 5

A girl, aged 12, has been completely paralyzed for six years and has been cared for by her parents for the entire time. After prayer and offerings, Martin heals her. Hard to believe her parents didn’t love her if they cared for her for six years as a paralytic. 6

In another account a boy still at his mother’s breast (but evidently a few years old) becomes severely ill and is cured by Martin. What’s striking about this account is the grief of the parents. The mother wept continuously and the father was so overcome with grief that he couldn’t bear to remain in the church while she prayed. 7

Another woman is so overcome by the loss of her son that she can’t stop weeping for days until she is visited by Saint Mauricius. 8 Another little boy, about three years old, is carried for days while ill and his parents are crushed when he dies, later to be revived at the tomb of Maximus of Riez. 9

His stories of marital love are less frequent but equally compelling. One case is of a chaste marriage; an anonymous couple known as “The Two Lovers.” When a husband and wife who lived their entire lives as virgins while sharing the marriage bed die, their tombs are placed on opposite sides of the church but move next to each other in the night. 10

The other two cases Gregory mentions are more traditional – husbands and wives who love one another and have honorable marriages. In one case, the husband predeceases his wife. On dying a year later, as she is placed in the same tomb his arm reaches out and embraces her. 11 Reticius’ wife dies and soon thereafter he becomes bishop of Autun. Later, after his death as he is placed in her tomb he “regained his spirit and addressed his wife.” 12

Of course Gregory uses these stories as ideals however they were almost certainly told as part of his sermons. He wouldn’t have included them unless he thought people could relate to them. Most of the folks who read this blog have never thought otherwise (not recently anyway) but if you want some other evidence on love to toss someone’s way, Gregory has it.

Schools and Lay Education

Gregory also mentions schools and from the way he portrays them in these two stories, they weren’t a rarity or even that hard to get access to.

Leobardus, a contemporary of Gregory’s from Auvergne was born, “. . . not of senatorial family, although he was of free birth.” The way his schooling is portrayed suggests that it was normal for the free to attend – or at least not unusual. “When it was time he was sent with the other children to school, where he learnt some of the psalms by heart, and without knowing that he would one day be a cleric he unknowingly prepared himself for the Lord’s service.” 13

There are a couple of things I read into this. First, it doesn’t appear that the school was restricted to boys. Also, the fact that his learning the psalms appears not to have been the norm and that he didn’t go to the school planning to become a cleric seems to indicate that this wasn’t a church school, though it doesn’t eliminate the possibility.

Patroclus was another non-noble free boy from Berry (Bourges region) and got into an argument with his brother who went to school while he tended sheep. Patroclus, “. . . left his sheep in the field and hastened to the boys’ school . . .” This school, while gender-restricted, also doesn’t appear to have been a clerical school as after receiving his education he went to work for Nunnio, a close acquaintance of Childebert and his mother believed that he would marry right up until he was tonsured and entered the clergy. 14

Gregory is surprisingly (to me anyway) matter-of-fact about education. He doesn’t portray non-noble free boys attending schools as anything unusual, or offer any discussion about needing a patron to gain entrance. He provides at least some evidence that non-nobles were often educated during the 6th century.

The final miracle story I think will make a useful piece of armament relates to plumbing. Another of the myths I always hear is that after Rome fell (because for these folks the world crashed and burned – I shouldn’t make fun since 15 years ago I believed the same thing) almost all technological knowledge was lost. This is plainly ridiculous and there have been plenty of books written about it. One of the items people often discuss as lost was plumbing. People’s excrement now evidently lay wherever it was deposited. Medievals lost their olfactory senses and apparently didn’t understand that stuff flows downhill, especially when a little water’s added. This one is easily countered. Charlemagne’s Aachen complex and baths is the one I like to use but Gregory has a nice one for the 6th century.

Located in the Plain of Osset near Seville was a Christian shrine including an artificial pool which miraculously filled each Easter Sunday. The Visigothic King Theudigisel, an Arian, thought the filling of the pool was some sort of trick. For three years he tried to cause the miracle to fail, the first two years by sealing the door to the shrine and posting guards around it, the third year by ordering trenches to be dug around the church to prevent underground pipes from filling the pool. Obviously, if plumbing was unknown in Gregory’s day, he wouldn’t be telling a story about folks digging to find it. 15

I’m starting on Gregory’s History of the Franks now. I doubt I come across anything someone else hasn’t already found but I was struck by two blatant errors in his narrative from Book 2. He portrays a persecution of Christians in Africa by the Arian King of the Vandals, Huneric, as resulting in thousands of deaths. 16 Victor of Vita doesn’t say anything of the kind, though he does discuss some fairly vicious acts, including yanking the scalps off people. Now for Victor this wasn’t the cheeriest of times but his account of a large-scale exile of Catholics shows that Huneric didn’t want to create a bunch of martyrs, he just wanted them out. 17

Gregory also talks about the Visigoth Euric engaging in a slaughter of Christians and references a letter of Sidonius Apollinarus as evidence. 18 The problem is, in the letter, (at least the one Thorpe footnotes in the Penguin edition, to Basilius, Bishop of Aix) Sidonius doesn’t talk about this either. He speaks of persecution and of Catholics not being allowed to fill vacant clerical positions including bishoprics, but he doesn’t describe any kind of widespread murder. 19 Is Gregory’s propensity towards exaggerating violence here something which continued when he described events of his time? Gregory’s been pointed to as evidence of widespread feuding and violence among Merovingian royalty but I can’t help wondering if he may have overblown this, even beyond just focusing on it. Or maybe he was just mistaken about things that for him weren’t current events.

This has been fun. I’m not sure if anything will come up worth posting about in the rest of Gregory’s Histories but if so, I’ll throw it in. Those have been pretty well analyzed though so I don’t know as I’ll come up with anything new. Of course I haven’t read about Gregory’s Victor/Sidonius misrepresentations anywhere else either but I’m sure it’s been done.

1 GC 9

2 GC 36

3 GC 93

4 GC 45: Romanus didn’t exactly rescue Gregory but calmed the river so he could cross.

5 VM 2.43: This account could be interpreted as more of a fear of the boy dying unbaptized than love but first, it doesn’t read that way to me and second, even if the father’s primary fear was of his son dying unbaptized, wouldn’t this also show his love for the boy?

6 VM 3.2

7 VM 3.51

8 GM 75

9 GC 82

10 GC 31

11 GC 41

12 GC 74

13 VP 20

14 VP 9: Interestingly, both Patroclus and Leobardus were expected to marry by their families. Leobardus even went so far as to perform all the usual pre-marriage ceremonies until he was “freed” by the deaths of his parents.

15 GM 23-4; Gregory has Theudigisel ruling for three years when his reign was actually from 548-9. Gregory wasn’t always up to snuff when discussing things outside his period. This story makes a nice example for why I believe his miracle stories are of less value for telling “what happened” than what Gregory believed and what he thought would make a good message for his audience. The pool and shrine may or may not have existed (I’m unaware of archaeological or other textual evidence confirming it) but it’s almost certain that subsurface pipes and plumbing did in Gregory’s day and that he believed his audience would be at least somewhat familiar with it.

16 HF II.3

17 Victor of Vita, History of the Vandal Persecution, 2.8 mentions that many Catholics served in the royal household dressed as Vandals so perhaps the mass killing Gregory discusses is in reference to them – Victor doesn’t read that way to me though. For hair-pulling, which is a very mild term for what Victor describes, see 2.9. In 2.15 Victor discusses Huneric killing thousands on taking the throne from his father Geiseric however this was in an effort to consolidate his rule and it’s not apparent that most of those killed were Catholic. It’s possible; perhaps his father was willing to overlook his administrators’ religious beliefs so long as they helped him run his kingdom and Huneric was “cleaning things up” but Victor doesn’t discuss this, with the possible exception of linking this to the household members referred to in 2.8. See 2.26-37 for details of the exile.

18 HF II.25

19 Sidonius Apollinarus, Epistolae, 7.6

Anderson, W. B., trans., Sidonius Apollinarus: Sidonius II, Letters III-IX. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press (1965). ISBN: 9-780674-99462-0.

James, Edward, trans., Gregory of Tours: Life of the Fathers. 2nd ed. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press (1991). ISBN: 9-780853-233275.

Moorhead, John, trans., Victor of Vita: History of the Vandal Persecution. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press (1992). ISBN: 9-780853-231271.

Thorpe, Lewis, trans., Gregory of Tours: The History of the Franks. London: Penguin Books (1974). ISBN: 9-780140-442953.

*Van Dam, Raymond, Saints and Their Miracles in Late Antique Gaul. Princeton, NJ:: Princeton University Press (1993). ISBN: 9-780691-021126.

Van Dam, Raymond, trans., Gregory of Tours: Glory of the Confessors. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press (2004). ISBN: 9-780853-232261.

Van Dam, Raymond, trans., Gregory of Tours: Glory of the Martyrs. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press (2004). ISBN: 9-780853-232360.

*Contains The Miracles of the Bishop St. Martin.

 

The Disgusting Miracles of Gregory

Well, a couple of them anyway. To be honest, this post is inspired by one by Jonathan Jarrett from a few months ago. In this story a girl is healed when her mother runs to a manse where St. Marcel of Die has been staying, scrapes some of his saliva off the walls, and cleans the girl’s nose and mouth with it. 1

Gregory has a fondness for saliva himself. I was reading the Life of the Fathers (Vita Patrum) last night and came up with two spit stories. Neither is quite as good as Jonathan’s but hey, you gotta do what you can to contribute to the conversation.

One of Gregory’s subjects is Leobardus. Leobardus was a recluse and contemporary of Gregory’s who, “. . . obtained so much grace from God that with his saliva alone he could banish the poison from malignant pustules.” (Gregory, Vita Patrum 20.3 in James, 1991 p. 129) 2

Better, though still not quite up to the standard of the mother washing her daughter’s mouth out is St. Lupicinus. Lupicinus had this self-mortification thing going on where, “And he wore on his neck, all through the day, while he sang the praises of God in his cell, a large stone, which two men could hardly lift. . . . Towards the end of his life his chest was so crushed by the weight of the stone he wore that blood began to come from his mouth; he used to spit this out against the walls.” (Gregory, Vita Patrum 13.1 in James, 1991 pp. 86-7)

This blood-spit was valuable enough to fight over after his death. With his body still lying in his cell, ” . . . others collect from the walls the blessed blood that he had spat out. And indeed scuffles break out among them . . . The wall today still witnesses to what we have just said, for it has as many little holes as it had merited drops of spittle from the mouth of the blessed man. . . . I have indeed myself seen many who had scraped from the wall the spit which had come from that sanctified mouth, who have had the honor of relief from several illnesses.” (Gregory, Vita Patrum 13.2 in James, 1991 p. 88)

Not quite the detail of what was done as with Marcel’s, er, fluid, but still interesting, I guess. I’m going through Gregory’s The Miracles of the Bishop St. Martin right now and I think I might have something on bloody pus to offer in the near future.

1 It would be interesting to know if Marcel’s story was inspired by either of Gregory’s. More likely that all of these originated with John 9:1-12 where Jesus spits on the ground, mixes the dirt and spit into clay and puts it on a blind man’s eyes to restore his sight.

2 I know – incorrect method of attribution but since this blog is geared toward amateurs – I hope – I didn’t want to just reference Gregory or add a bunch of footnotes.

James, Edward, trans., Gregory of Tours: Life of the Fathers. 2nd ed. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press (1991). ISBN: 9-780853-233275.

 

Gregory of Tours

I recently mentioned a need to re-read Gregory. I thought before I got started on this that I’d offer a brief overview of him. I should preface this by saying you can get a better bio of Gregory in the introduction to just about any translation of his work but this will help me frame my thoughts. 1

Georgius Florentius Gregorius, commonly known as Gregory of Tours, was born in the later 530’s in Clermont, in the Auvergne region of Gaul. His family appears to have been of some significance in the Gallo-Roman aristocracy. Throughout his works Gregory references relatives and ancestors who held important posts. To a certain extent, the Bishoprics of Clermont and Lyons had become “family sees” and Langres wasn’t far behind. Gregory’s family seemed to be first in line for these posts.

Gregory did not, it appears, receive a classical education. He himself notes a gap in the literary abilities between himself and his friend, Venantius Fortunatus, who was trained as a Roman rhetor and was known as a poet. It’s hard to tell exactly how much of Gregory’s ignorance was feigned and how much was real – the ecclesiastical education he received was likely light on the classics and concentrated on religious works, the Bible, Psalms, Sermons and the writings of the Fathers such as Ambrose, Jerome and Augustine. To at least some extent Gregory appears to have lacked literary ability however he also tried to write in such a way that common people could understand it.

Gregory’s youth and early adulthood took him up the ladder of religious advancement in a fairly straight line up to his becoming a Deacon in c. 562-3. In the early 570’s he ran into trouble though. In 571 the bishopric of Clermont became available. Gregory would have been a logical choice to take over but he didn’t get it, though it did go to Avitus, a friend of his. Two years later the Bishopric of Lyons, where Gregory was Deacon, became available when Nicetius, Gregory’s patron and great-uncle, died. This would have been an even more logical post but he did not get it either; possibly because his brother Peter became involved in a dispute in Langres where he was accused of plotting against another priest in order to become Bishop, possibly because Nicetius had been something of an abrasive individual who’d antagonized some important people. Whatever the reason, it seems that at the time these Bishoprics became available, the reputation of Gregory’s family was at a low point.

Tours was a more interesting situation and what happened there seems to be the result of a mixture of luck and Gregory becoming more aggressive in asserting his rights. The Bishopric was held by a distant relative of Gregory’s, Eufronius. Tours is some distance from where Gregory’s family had its greatest influence and he cannot have been considered a favorite to take over after Eufronius’ death. However Gregory cultivated the patronage of several influential individuals in the area including King Sigibert, Radegund and the Bishop of Reims. Against the odds and the resident Archdeacon, Riculf, Gregory was named to this fairly important see.

Gregory as Bishop

Gregory had some serious problems when he first became bishop. Tours was a disputed city, both between Neustria and Austrasia and between Sigibert and his brother, Chilperic, as they engaged in a civil war. Early in his Bishopric Gregory allied himself with Sigibert who had the upper hand in the conflict, most of the time. This backfired when he died in 575 and his brother took over.

Chilperic wasn’t Gregory’s only opponent however if we were going to name a “nemesis” for Gregory, he’d be the choice. Gregory writes extensively of their disagreements and his personal animosity for the King comes through. But Gregory was smarter by now and he actively strengthened his position. Some of this was by his activity as Bishop including actively opposing Chilperic at a Church Council, however to me it seems that his greatest ally was a dead man.

Other than as the author of his History of the Franks, Gregory’s claim to fame was as a promoter of miracles in general and, specifically, the Cult of St. Martin of Tours. From the beginning of his episcopacy Gregory began recording the miracles of St. Martin and worked to promote the Saint. By the late 570’s, the Cult of Martin was very strong, strong enough, apparently, to provide Gregory with the ammo he needed to hold onto his see. His position appears to have become fairly solid by 580, even more so when Chilperic was assassinated in 584.

As Bishop, I have a hard time figuring out exactly how much influence Gregory had. It’s clear that he was a person of some significance. He had a strong core of patrons and was a friend of Fortunatus, one of the most respected clerics of the time. He was an active participant in Church Councils and engaged in theological discussions (though sometimes using flawed arguments). Kings and nobles used him as an envoy. At the same time we have to look at the accident of survival. Gregory’s our number one source for the history of the period and he will have appeared more prominent than he likely was, despite the fact that his works do not engage in a high degree of self-promotion. At the same time, the fact that so much of his work has survived and that he was later named a Saint indicates that he was well-respected.

For my money, while I can’t say that he was one of the leading theological minds of his era, his active promotion of miracles and various Saints’ cults, in particular Martin but others as well, speaks of his influence. He wasn’t a Gregory the Great whose works influenced doctrine for centuries, but his advocacy for Saints and miracles ensured that he would be remembered and, I believe, makes it likely that he was well-respected by contemporaries. In particular, the Cult of St. Martin, already significant, expanded to where he was easily the most famous Saint in Gaul. Gregory must receive the credit for this.

Gregory as Historian

His influence as a historian is pretty indisputable. Gregory is our preeminent source for 6th century Gaul. Only Fortunatus can be considered another “major” source for the period (there are some other, brief Vitae and sources but nothing approaching the scale of these two). The question has always been: How reliable is Gregory?

The answer to this varies among historians. I have never seen anything where he has been considered to be an out-and-out fabricator. I have seen summaries where he is considered to have engaged in much embellishment and had such a narrow world view as to not have much historical value.

This view is not currently at the forefront. Gregory is considered a man of his times. The miracle stories are viewed as ahistorical, of course, but does this mean that Gregory himself did not believe them and deliberately constructed them? I don’t think so. He was a product of his times and his writings indicate a deep belief in the active participation of the Saints in his world, and that they were truly a force with great power and influence.

And for those who believe he pretty much made up his miracle stories, I don’t believe this is a necessary explanation. There is no doubt that sometimes people get sick and then get better. There is little doubt that in 6th Century Gaul, seeking the aid of a Saint was a fairly standard response to misfortune, including sickness. If an ill person went to St. Martin’s Church, prayed at his tomb and touched a tapestry or drank a little tomb dust water and then recovered, I don’t think we need to believe in a miraculous reason for this, or be surprised when Gregory attributes this to the Saint. Or, if a terrible storm rages and people in a house pray to Martin and find their house spared while nearby trees are uprooted and barns blown over, we don’t have to look very far to see how tornadoes behave – I can go look at damage within ten miles of where I live. By the same token, if someone was at sea, crossing a river or on a lake and a storm came up and they were afraid they might die, praying is not an unusual response and Gregory claiming the Saint’s efficacy shouldn’t be either. Of course the folks whose ship sank or who were killed by raiders wouldn’t be running around talking about how ineffective their prayers were.

Maybe if there had been a 6th century Celsus or Porphyry we’d have some texts telling us about the dozens of corpses carried out of St Martin’s Church when their prayers failed them, or hear how a slave taken by raiders watched his entire family killed despite their prayers. We don’t and when you consider the belief system of the time and that Gregory was particularly strong in his faith in the power of miraculous intervention, I don’t think we need to accuse Gregory of deliberate falsification.

One of the areas in which Gregory tells us the most about his world is through his miracle stories. A while ago I read Barbara Hanawalt’s The Ties that Bound (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986). In it she examines fourteenth and fifteenth century coroner rolls to glean information about the life of peasants in Late Medieval England. Their lives may have largely been hidden but by examining the manner of their deaths Hanawalt was able to learn a great deal about the daily lives of peasants.

I would argue that we can do the same for Gregory’s miracle stories. The stories themselves are less interesting than who came to Martin’s tomb and why. Clearly parents loved their children in the sixth century, as so many carrying their children for miles for healing, sometimes after nursing their withered bodies at home for years, attests. They work on the sabbath, if need be, though occasionally they end up with a cramped hand. And they will travel at need, sometimes considerable distances even when they lack any social standing. There’s a lot to learn from the miracle stories.

When it comes to his contemporary civil wars, conflicts, activities of Kings, Queens and nobility; there is little to flatly point to and say, “Gregory was right here – so-and-so corroborates it,” or that archaeological evidence confirms something. At the same time, there isn’t much to contradict him either and while I think we can safely credit Gregory with emphasizing the power of the saints and the Church over that of lay rulers, I also think it likely that, as far as he was able, he accurately represents what went on during his time. This is disputable of course, but there’s substantial detail and some cases where Fortunatus backs him up. In his History he is also very explicit about where he gathered his information about what occurred in the earlier period covered, including copying entire passages from other works and attributing where he found this information. Would he have done this and then made up most of what he said about his own times, when people reading his works would have their own memories to contradict him with? I don’t consider this plausible. Without evidence to the contrary and taking into account his point of view and motivations, in particular his tendency to favor ecclesiastical sources of power and influence, I think we can give him some credibility. His was not a world view but when it comes to the regional conflicts, it appears that we can consider Gregory reasonably reliable.

One of the reasons I’m about to dive into Gregory is that over the last 10 years or so he’s been receiving much more mention in books I’m reading and in sessions at Kalamazoo. I should be able to assess what he has to say a little better now than I did a decade ago. Also, everyone says to read Gregory’s works together which I didn’t do the first time. 2

ADDENDUM: Since this post seems to be drawing a bit of traffic, I want to mention that I wrote two other posts based on this reading project:

• A short post on Gregory’s disgusting miracles. To be honest, this one isn’t my best but it may provide some amusement.
• This one discusses a couple of aspects of what I think Gregory’s miracle stories say about daily life in 6th Century Gaul along with a couple of items from his Histories.

The works of Gregory I have and am about to read/re-read are:

James, Edward, trans., Gregory of Tours: Life of the Fathers. 2nd ed. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press (1991). ISBN: 9-780853-233275.

Thorpe, Lewis, trans., Gregory of Tours: The History of the Franks. London: Penguin Books (1974). ISBN: 9-780140-442953.

*Van Dam, Raymond, Saints and Their Miracles in Late Antique Gaul. Princeton, NJ:: Princeton University Press (1993). ISBN: 9-780691-021126.

Van Dam, Raymond, trans., Gregory of Tours: Glory of the Confessors. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press (2004). ISBN: 9-780853-232261.

Van Dam, Raymond, trans., Gregory of Tours: Glory of the Martyrs. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press (2004). ISBN: 9-780853-232360.

* This includes translations of Gregory’s The Sufferings and Miracles of the Martyr St. Julian and his four books of The Miracles of the Bishop St. Martin.

1 Personally I think Van Dam (1993) offers the most complete background on Gregory but any of the introductions to the translated works provide some information.

2 Most of this has been written from memory which I think is pretty much correct. As I go through Gregory’s books I may add a bit to this, including some footnotes. I read a lot of Gregory a decade or so ago. His The History of the Franks was one of the first primary sources I ever read after I became interested in Medieval History. I have not read either the Glory of the Martyrs or Glory of the Confessors before, for some reason.

 

How the Bodies Are Buried

There are aspects of the study of the middle ages which I know are important but I don’t know much about – and don’t feel I need to know. I always hold up numismatics and philology as examples. I don’t need to know the details of how those folks go about their work to understand the significance of a coin find or how, exactly, a researcher determines when a change in word usage signifies a major societal shift to understand its significance.

I’ve never fit archaeology into this category. I can sit through a K’zoo session on archaeology and follow the discussion perfectly well, even enough to ask a question if I feel the urge.

When it comes to Late Antique burial patterns and practices, this is not true. I know how researchers go about a dig, roughly. What I don’t have is a clear enough handle on how they reach their conclusions. I had no idea this was a problem until last fall when I read Guy Halsall’s Barbarian Migrations and the Roman West, 376-568. At several points in the book Halsall delineates the argument over whether burial ritual can be taken to indicate the presence of Barbarians settling within the Empire in the 4th century. (153-61) That was an eye-opener, as was his discussion of archaeology and ethnogenesis. (466-68) What was interesting was how Halsall provided a strong, powerful argument in favor of his views – many of which contradict those of Peter Heather, who also presents a strong, powerful argument. From that point it was clear to me that, when I found the time, I would have to dive into the issue of how people were buried in Western Europe from the 4th through 6th centuries, and the significance of the finds. The differences between Halsall and Heather are important and I want to figure out what I think, whether that means I fall into one “camp” or the other, or somewhere else.

So a couple of months ago I picked up several books on the topic and looked for some journal articles. The first book I opened was Bonnie Effros’ Merovingian Mortuary Archaeology and the Making of the Early Middle Ages. I’m not typically a big fan of books which spend a great deal of time on historiography though it shouldn’t be ignored either. However this topic is very intertwined with 19th and early 20th century research. My comments on this book will be brief – my ignorance regarding the topic will keep it that way. Also, the first 118 pages covered the evolution of studies of burial finds. I’m not going to track that other than to say it was comprehensive and well done, detailing the research done on burial finds from the High Middle Ages to the present and how she believes that many of the conclusions of previous researchers, particularly regarding ethnicity, are unsupportable.

I could almost sum up the final two chapters as Effros saying, “Those grave goods – they likely don’t mean what you think they mean,” in conjunction with, “Be careful about assigning motivation to finds,” particularly when it comes to ethnicity. I think that a couple of examples might be useful..

An example of a conclusion which, on its surface, would appear obvious is that of sexing the occupant of a grave based on the presence of weapons and/or jewelry – gender-linking artifacts. While there is a positive correlation between such artifacts and gender, detailed analysis at some sites, including DNA, has shown that this is far from perfect and frequently women were buried with weapons and men with substantial jewelry and no weapons.

Another example is the case of abnormal burials. In this case the discussion centers around graves where the occupant was buried in an unusual position, such as face down or facing in a direction other than the majority of the graves and, specifically, where the head was separated from the body – or absent altogether. Initially it was proposed that these graves represented an individual who had been executed. Recent investigation has found that in many cases these represent individuals whose remains had been disinterred and removed to another location, that the head had been removed from the body well after death and this was a sign of respect and even reverence, a lay parallel to the movement of relics of a saint.

One area in which she believes some conclusions may be drawn is regarding the relative amount and value of burial goods. She believes that lavish burials are a sign of social competition, that by showing themselves capable of extensive burials, families were engaging in a visible show of their clout – or what they wanted others to believe was their clout. By the later 6th and 7th centuries, less extensive burials indicate an increasingly static social hierarchy, one in which such displays were unnecessary.

There’s a lot of info in this book, many specific characteristics of finds which she discusses. Even so, this is something of an overview where she spends just a few pages on each characteristic. For more detailed information I need to pick up her, Caring for Body and Soul: Burial and the Afterlife in the Merovingian World. This book made a useful starting point but it’s clear that I need to read a lot more on this and I need to start going through journals, such as Medieval Archaeology. I also need more time – 30-hour days anyone?

Books cited:

Effros, Bonnie, Merovingian Mortuary Archaeology and the Making of the Early Middle Ages. Berkeley: University of California Press (2003). ISBN: 9-780520-252440.

Effros, Bonnie, Caring for Body and Soul: Burial and the Afterlife in the Merovingian World. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press (2002). ISBN: 978-0271021966.

Halsall, Guy, Barbarian Migrations and the Roman West, 376-568. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press (2007). ISBN: 978-0-521-43543-7.

 

Book Review: Social Mobility in Late Antique Gaul

Jones, Allen E., Social Mobility in Late Antique Gaul: Strategies and Opportunities for the Non-Elite. New York: Cambridge University Press (2009). Pp 379, xi. ISBN: 978-0521762397.

In this book, Allen E. Jones sets out to provide a new perspective on the degree of social fluidity in Merovingian Gaul. He believes that in discussing this region and period, society was not divided into two classes – elite and popular. Individuals could and did move from poor to elite and the strategies used by the lower elite to move higher, and for the non-aristocrats to move into the ranks of the elite, were similar. He presents his argument through a detailed analysis of textual sources, most particularly Gregory of Tours but also by examining others such as Caesarius of Arles. While social movement among elites is presented as a comparison, this book focuses on the poor and the writings of Gregory and others are given a detailed examination to discover evidence of social fluidity among the lower classes of society.

Chapter One, “Introducing Barbarian Gaul,” examines the current perspectives among historians. Jones discusses his belief that several current constructs are in error. He believes that during this period Gaul should not be discussed in terms of Northern and Southern (Frankish and Roman) or Christian and pagan. He believes that Gaul has been largely Christianized by this time, albeit with pagan influences, and he discusses it as such. He provides an overview of what will be his argument against a two-tiered social model by posing the question, “What would become of the ‘two-tiered’ model if one were to discover that important social behaviors and activities among people from Gaul’s various social ranks differed only by a matter of degrees?” (p15) He intends to construct a microcosm through a detailed textual analysis of individuals, a prosopographical approach and, “Ultimately, this study relies upon interpretations of collective biographical data extracted from literary sources.” (p17)

In Chapter Two Jones discusses the sources. The sources themselves – Gregory, Avitus, Caesarius, Venantius Fortunatus, etc. – will be well known to any student of the period. However here Jones sets out the context within which he will use them. For example, he believes that Gregory can be read as a valid source of historical events, but he must be used in context, considering Gregory’s objectives and prejudices. This is an extremely valuable, well constructed section of the book and is vital to the remainder.

Chapters Three and Four titled, respectively, “Social Structure I: Hierarchy, Mobility and Aristocracies” and “Social Structure II: Free and Servile Ranks” proceed to examine the biographical data for evidence of social mobility. Jones uses examples from sources to discuss methods of “social climbing” which various individuals used. Examples of these methods include; marriage and the acquisition of land through marriage; taking advantage of one’s literacy; patronage and service; visions and acts of healing; conspicuous acts of public service such as building a church and; military service. Jones details why he believes elites of this period should be discussed as aristocrats, but not as members of an aristocracy or aristocratic class and discusses how the Merovingian royalty worked to avoid the development of a definable, entrenched aristocratic class. Numerous examples are provided detailing how individuals achieved social advancement. These examples encompass both the elite and non-elite and he compares and contrasts methods used by these two groups to show how the strategies were similar, whether for a lower level aristocrat becoming a Count or Bishop, or for a slave advancing to the priesthood. It is important to note that Jones stresses that the divide between an aristocrat and a wealthy freeman was generally less than that between a wealthy freeman and a slave.

Chapters Five and Six discuss two classes of the poor; prisoners and pauperes associated with a church. Jones describes how each of these groups might achieve social advancement. For prisoners he spends significant time detailing their role in what he terms “The Ritual of Miraculous Release.” This ritual was used by ecclesiastics to promote or develop the cult of a saint. One aspect of this included a prisoner or prisoners being miraculously released from their prison or bonds when visited by a dream or vision of a saint, or when a procession honoring a saint or carrying relics passed nearby. For pauperes similar, miraculous occurrences are found in the sources. A role of a Church paupere might include, beyond providing a visible example of the local church’s beneficence, guarding the poor box or the church itself. Sources detail how thieves were found “miraculously” unconscious in the act of thievery or how the local saint physically repelled the intruder. Jones believes that both of these cases – the miraculous freeing of prisoners and the repelling of invaders – involved ecclesiastics arranging or explaining the event to promote the local saint. In the first case, the freeing of prisoners was likely arranged with secular approval and in the second, defense of a church by pauperes was explained as a miraculous intervention. In each case, the prisoners and pauperes found opportunities for advancement. A freed prisoner might become identified with the saint and church while pauperes often were rewarded for their service.

The final two chapters of the book discuss Merovingian healers. Chapter Seven examines physicians while Chapter Eight covers sorcerers and enchanters. Jones discusses how through providing a service to Gallic society members of both groups found opportunities for advancement. In examining the sources he finds that physicians were generally well-respected and that, while Gregory might advocate that healing from St. Martin was more effective than that received from a doctor, he retains a high opinion of physicians and considers them to be a valuable part of society. Enchanters, faith healers, etc., receive different treatment from the sources. While Gregory denounces them, here Caesarius provides the most specific argument; that their power comes from the Devil and that he will happily heal the bodies of the sick, so long as he kills their soul. Nonetheless, Jones provides evidence of how enchanters and faith healers are able to advance and are viewed by the community as providing an essential service.

This is an important book. Jones provides clear, abundant evidence in support of his model of social fluidity. His arguments are well structured, well written, and easily understood. The book is surprisingly readable for one which takes such a close look at textual evidence. While he does not take on other interpretations head-on, he does seek to refute some previous work, particularly Valerie Flint’s belief that paganism continued to be a potent force in Merovingian Gaul. 1 Jones believes that pagan influences may be seen, however Gaul at this time was largely Christianized.

If there is one criticism I have, it is that Jones virtually ignores archaeological evidence. Granted, his is a book about textual evidence, however archaeological evidence has been used to argue that Gallic social structures were becoming more hierarchical and entrenched at this very time. Jones chose to provide his argument without attempting to refute these opinions. I think the book would have been even stronger had he chosen to do so. 2

Nevertheless, this is an excellent book. The evidence provided is considerable, the textual sources are examined in detail and Jones’ argument is clear, well-reasoned and powerful. Social Mobility in Late Antique Gaul is a book which should significantly influence studies of Merovingian Gaul for years to come.

1As discussed in Valerie Flint, The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe, Princeton, Princeton University Press (1991). This book happens to be the first I ever wrote a review for, nearly ten years ago which you can find on Amazon. Not my best but we all have to start somewhere.

2See Bonnie Effros, Merovingian Mortuary Archaeology and the Making of the Middle Ages, Los Angeles: University of California Press (2002), pp 9, 130. She believes the reduction in the number of lavish burials in row grave cemeteries during the Sixth and Seventh Centuries points to an increasingly entrenched aristocracy which made ritual expression of status less important. To be fair, this process appears to have begun in the Sixth Century and accelerated in the Seventh, beyond the period covered by Jones.

 

ICMS Session Report VIII: Session 508 – Early Medieval Europe IV

Saturday, May 15, 2010
Session 508
Early Medieval Europe IV

This was a very enjoyable session for me – possibly my favorite session of Congress. As I’ve mentioned previously, this is different from being the “best” but it was still quite good. I think part of this was that I’m very interested in the subject matter and part is that it’s in my comfort zone – I was familiar with the concepts and could easily follow them. 

The first paper was by Kathleen Self of Saint Lawrence University, “Two Conversions, Three Genders: Religious Transformations of Gender in the Writings of Gregory of Tours.”

Dr. Self discussed how the portrayal of figures in a religious sense (I need to be careful of my wording – this is NOT the portrayal of religious figures as some were lay personages portrayed religiously) involved three genders – male, female and chaste – and part of the literature associated with these figures involved what amounted to a gender change from male or female to chaste.

To open she related a couple of fairly well-known conversion accounts told by Gregory, neither of which involve the chaste gender. The story of Clovis is one of miraculous intervention by God in permitting him to win a battle, accompanied by persuasion from Chlotild, his wife. In the case of Recared of Spain, his miraculous proof was less direct but recounts how Catholics can heal while Arians cannot and is also accompanied by persuasion. In the case of Clovis we have the mass conversion of the Franks to accompany it. In Recared’s case we have the account that he sent envoys out to tell his people so they could convert but it’s not explicitly stated how this came out. The Clovis story introduces one other element, that of men being convinced to convert by women, specifically their wives.

Other accounts followed. She recounted a female conversion story of a woman who withdraws to a convent following the deaths of her daughters. She also told a story from the Lives of the Fathers where Brachio, a huntsman, is converted after seeing a wild boar standing as if tamed before a hermit’s cell.

She then proceeded to the discuss the details by which the “chaste gender” is portrayed by Gregory. He portrays St. Gall as “de-masculated” and possessed of a high, sweet voice. His masculine properties have been minimized to display the gender change. Gregory’s rhetoric identifies chaste women through flower imagery – use of the terms “flower” or “flowering” in discussions of females.

The chaste can be identified by acts exhibiting their gender. Dress for both men and women and the tonsure for men and cutting of hair for women are chaste gender indicators.

I found this paper very interesting. The conversion stories of Gregory’s that she recounted were familiar but I hadn’t really looked at them in this way before, not as a systematic “de-gendering” in literature. It gives me something to look for in other similar works – certainly a suppression or “gift” of removal of sexual desire is a very common theme, as is the removal of other baser impulses, but these don’t go as far as gender change

During the question period something was raised which ended up being the last question of the session – I was going to answer but time ran out though I did speak with both the questioner and Dr. Self following the session (I’d already had “my question” in response to another paper). If someone who was at this session happens to read this I think these are important points and I want to cover them. The question was raised by someone familiar with conversion stories from the later Middle Ages – I believe he specifically said 13th century England. The question was that in the conversion tales he was familiar with men are pretty much emasculated but Clovis was converted as a war leader and he wondered why there was such a difference. Of course nobody can give a definitive answer but I think two points can be made. First, and most obvious, the Clovis conversion story is very similar to that of Constantine – pretty much a parallel account with Gregory fulfilling the role of Eusebius. This is a battle conversion and would resonate powerfully with the Franks. The second point relates to the portrayal of God to the Franks in the late 5th/early 6th century. Dennis Green in Language and History in the Early Germanic World (Cambridge, 1998) describes how language used by 5th and 6th century missionaries indicates that God was portrayed as a warrior deity, one who would lead his followers to success in battle. This is very different from the terminology used when Ulfilus was sent to convert the Goths in the 4th century. When he developed a written Gothic language God was portrayed in pacifist terms and Ulfilus wouldn’t even translate Kings because it was too violent for an already violent people. The story of Clovis as a converted war leader following a strong warrior God would resonate with the Franks and a warrior God would have made their mass conversion much easier for them to accept. The portrayal of God changed substantially over time and place to best connect with the people who missionaries were trying to convert.

The second paper discussed an aspect of history which I am unfamiliar with. Genevra Kornbluth of Kornbluth Photography gave an interesting paper on “Solid Geometry in Francia and Alemannia: Some Physical Evidence.”

This was a discussion of gemstones and ornamental metalwork found in the fifth through seventh centuries. Kornbluth discussed – assisted by some very good visuals – the use of geometric shapes in objects made of rock crystal, glass and metal. This will be tough to explain without the visuals but I’ll do my best.

Rock crystal and glass frequently functioned as spindle whorls. Octagon is the simplest shape and is frequently found but there were also quite a few hexagons.

Rock crystal is naturally shaped as a hexagon but were usually ground into spheres – Kornbluth found that only 4 or 5 of the 139 finds were set as hexagons in pendants.

Many pentagon whorls have been found. A pentagon whorl has 5 facets on each face. This makes it an irregular dodecahedron. Kornbluth doesn’t know what the significance would have been of this but believes there must have been something beyond aesthetics – some spiritual/superstitious meaning.

Pierced metal dodecahedra are found all over Roman Gaul – and nowhere else in the world. Kornbluth believes these may have served some type of divination function.

Another frequent find are icosahedra. In ancient sources they represent water. They are generally not pierced and the tops and bottoms could be ground down into spindle whorls.

This was not a thesis type paper or even one that gave a lot of answers. Instead it helped clarify some questions that researchers may want to ask and it helped illustrate an area of study which I am unfamiliar with. I enjoyed it and I apologize for not finding a better way to represent what was really an interesting and informative paper and presentation.

The final paper in this session was, “The Elusive ‘Happy Marriage’ in Hagiography” by Angela Kinney, a University of Illinois PhD student.

I’ve previously mentioned that I enjoy hagiography very much. I was looking forward to this paper and was not disappointed.

With the aid of a useful handout Kinney began with a discussion of how marriage, particularly in accounts of female married saints, is addressed in hagiography and has changed over time.

The first issue she mentioned is that there are few female married saints mentioned in hagiography. Initially, their accounts included what amounted to a “marriage apology.” In the 8th century case of Eustadiola, she marries as an expression of the scriptural guidance to obey her parents, while they remind her that if a virgin marries she doesn’t commit a sin. Her vita emphasizes the honorable status of her marriage and her match with a lawful husband. On her husband’s death, rather than take another husband, she chooses to wed God.

In a story dating to the 7th century, Waldetrud is portrayed similarly, though with different results. Again, she marries out of obedience to her parents. After a time her husband, still loving her (according to her vita) dissolves their conjugal bonds and enters a monastery. Waldetrud is portrayed as a “religious servant” despite wearing “a secular habit” and remains in the world to manage her household – the vita fails to mention that she has four children.

In the 10th century Rictrudis is portrayed very differently. She became wife to a husband who married not out of lust but due to a desire to have children. She marries him freely and there is substantial language which to me appears to discuss what was known as the conjugal debt – the debt of each partner in a marriage to share their bodies with each other (though this seems a bit early for that – Gratian is who I’ve seen this mainly attributed to though there were earlier mentions of the idea). Her body as a temple of God is also discussed as is the honor and sanctity of marriage.

Kinney admitted that the selection of these types of accounts is sparse but they seem to be moving toward a stylization of marriage as good and honorable, a state of being within which sanctity may be found.

This was another very good paper and presentation. I found it extremely interesting and Kinney provided substantial information and evidence. I believe there may be additional information to be gained by looking into canon law and see if the changes in the way marriage is portrayed in hagiography may parallel the way the Church came to view marriage. While marriage may arguably have been a sacrament from the earliest time of Christianity it certainly didn’t rank very high on the scale with no official ceremony to mark it until the 11th century – just the need for words of the present and future and consummation. However as time went on the Church increasingly regulated marriage and the concept of the conjugal debt evolved. I think there is much waiting to be discovered – or at least learned from – in hagiography.

Overall, another very good session. I found all of the papers quite interesting and the first and third happened to cover issues which I am particularly interested in. Each of the presenters gave interesting presentations and provided a great deal of information.

 

ICMS Session Report VII: Session 457 – Early Medieval Europe III

Saturday, May 15, 2010
Session 457
Early Medieval Europe III

This session opened with an exchange that was half humorous and may indicate a bit of tension. As I’ve mentioned before, Ralph Mathison is the editor of the Journal of Late Antiquity (JLA). He apparently had requested that they plug JLA. The plug he got was pretty tepid – “You should think about submitting to this but make sure you submit to Early Medieval Europe (EME) first.” The sense I had was that EME may not be completely enthralled with the appearance of a new publication that covers much of the same period. I have no idea if that’s justified or not – I know when I subscribed to JLA I hoped that it wouldn’t negatively impact EME which I also enjoy very much.

I’m reminded of a forward I once read to a very good (fiction) book where the author (of the forward) said (paraphrase), “XXX isn’t in competition with writers such as so-and-so (I’ve ditched much of my fiction so I couldn’t find the quote if I wanted to but several prominent authors were named) but with the bumbling yahoos who don’t know what they’re doing and write cheap, trashy stuff.” I hope that the JLA-EME dynamic can be viewed the same way – additional quality publications are rarely bad – people don’t complain about a new, quality book on something even though work’s previously been done on the same topic do they? This should enhance the field, not detract from it. I know this isn’t always the reality – there is a pool of readers – but I hope it is.

This relates to a recent post by Magistra. I don’t have her perspective as a potential author, just my own as a reader. It raises an interesting question about my own reading/subscription habits. I subscribe to JLA and not EME because of the price – $30 vs $100 and I don’t feel I should apologize for that. However I also pay a hundred bucks for an Academy membership so I can get Speculum – there’s a 5-year wait for it to appear on JSTOR and I don’t want to wait that long. So in essence I’m rewarding Speculum for failing to be as accessible as other journals I read such as EME, Medieval Archaeology, American Historical Review, and English Historical Review. Rewarding someone for poorer service? That does seem a bit off for some reason – though the 20% off books published by Cambridge may pay off.

Enough of that – time to move on to the session.

The first paper was by Ralph Mathison of the University of Illinois, “Desiderius of Cahors and the End of the Ancient World.” There must be some reason for the change of the end of this from “Antiquity” as listed in the Congress program to “the Ancient World” but the subtlety of that escapes me.

If my memory isn’t completely faulty, I believe Dr. Mathison is currently working on a translation of some (or all – I don’t actually know) of Desiderius’ surviving material. I’m hoping it’s published through an accessible (for me) press such as Liverpool’s Translated Texts for Historians series. But in any case, Dr. Mathison is well qualified to discuss Desiderius.

Dr. Mathison is a proponent for recognition of Late Antiquity as a unique, discrete period with its own set of characteristics. For myself, I have not become highly involved in or even closely followed these discussions. My reasons for believing that Late Antiquity as its own field of study has value is not a particularly academic one, or even related to the various unique features (and there are several) which set it apart from the antique/classical/ancient and medieval periods. I believe it has value because of the need to educate people – generally non-academics – that there was a transition period in Western Europe (and in the East as well though it seems there’s less resistance to that) which makes the term “fall” inappropriate to use when discussing the end of the Roman Empire. There’s a mindset out there among the public which is “Romans-Good, Medievals-Bad.” It’s unfortunate that things are so bad that it may take turning to completely new terminology to counter this but this attitude is so ingrained and so widely held that it may take that. 1

In this paper Dr. Mathison proposes that with Desiderius’ death a critical stage was reached which can be used as the ending of antiquity. He bases this on an analysis of his life, writing style and circle of associates. I’ll apologize in advance for the summary of this paper being a bit light on specifics. I got caught up in what he was saying and have relatively few notes, but I think I have the main points covered.

Dr. Mathison relates how Desiderius was titled “Last of the Romans” (one of my failings was not writing where – possibly in his vita?) and how he lived a very Roman lifestyle including engaging in public building projects and restoring much of Cahors’ failing infrastructure as its Bishop. He had a circle of friends, a group of aristocrats with whom he frequently exchanged letters. His writing style was excellent; correct, classical Latin. He received training in grammar and rhetoric and Dr. Mathison believes this points toward a secular school.

Dr. Mathison focused on his aristocratic circle and letter writing. Desiderius’ circle was small by ancient standards – about 10 individuals. And after his death, this tradition of exchanging letters ended, for a time (there was certainly a medieval epistolary tradition). He described Desiderius as providing the last link to a literary epistolary tradition that dates back to classical Greece.

Based on the end of this tradition, and as one of the last individuals to use Latin in a classical manner, Mathison believes that the death of Desiderius marks the end of antiquity.

This was an interesting paper. As I said, I ended up doing more listening than taking notes. I recall having a question for myself on whether this literary tradition may have moved from Gaul to Visigothic Spain – Isidore was who came to mind as well as writers such as Sisebut and Julian of Toledo. However on returning home I looked into this and Sisebut’s death pre-dated Desiderius and Isidore wrote in a much more “medieval” style (whatever that means – my non-Latinity is showing here) so that question of mine was answered with a simple “no.”

There are a variety of characteristics by which we might try to establish the end of Late Antiquity, be they political, cultural, an exploration of mindset, etc. Literary tradition ranks right up there with any of them and this paper showed me that it’s something I need to look into much more carefully than I have so far.

The second paper was “Literacy, Law and Libido in Early Medieval Spain” by Graham Barrett, a PhD student at Balliol College, University of Oxford. This paper discussed how adultery was viewed in 9th through early 11th century Spain, both as it was referred to in the legal texts and how it was prosecuted and punished.

Barrett found 30 charters between 711 and 1031 which concerned adultery and its prosecution. Among the general concepts was that the penalty for adultery usually involved the forfeiture of property and that adulterous clerics were the responsibility of bishops who would proscribe a penalty and penance.

Barrett discussed some incidents chronologically to describe how the handling of adultery changed over time. Earlier in the period adultery was a crime against a person. In one example he cited, a woman was carried off but the act was unconsummated. The man gave the woman half his property, was sentenced to be publicly lashed and was forbidden to marry her. In a second example concerning a willing abductee the couple were permitted to marry but were placed in servitude to her guardian/parent in exchange for this sentence.

Later this changed. He cited a case from May 7, 979 where a married man committed adultery and was sentenced to forfeit his lands to the local authority. Adultery had now become a public crime, one which royal agents might charge someone with if the offended party did not.

Barrett believes that by the late 10th or early 11th century adultery had become a purely public crime. He also related some interesting cases. One was where parents initiated the prosecution against their son – apparently adultery was perceived as a stain against their honor. Another case resulted in the woman being sentenced to whipping but the man involved donated property in lieu of this.

The public prosecution of adultery was not pursued equally as 4 counts, related to each other, were responsible for half of the prosecutions. The prosecution of adultery had apparently become a tool of power used by this family.

This was another very good paper. He presented a paper at last year’s Congress – I believe on slate finds in the Spanish Meseta. I was impressed with him then and I was this time too. His paper was well organized and structured, he provided detailed evidence in his discussion of how adultery and its prosecution changed over time, and he was in complete command of his topic, which became even more evident during the question period. He also provided a handout which was helpful, though likely less so for me than others due to my lack of Latin (though I could work my way through a good portion of this – I took Latin over 25 years ago – just haven’t used it since).

This session’s final paper was presented by David Dry, a Master’s student from the University of Florida, titled, “Episcopal Inheritance: Replicating Power in the Merovingian Era.”

Dry’s paper involved a discussion of the power struggle between clerics and secular authorities during the Merovingian period, in particular how bishops attempted to maintain control of episcopal appointments.

He opened with a discussion of Clermont-Ferrand. In this case the local clerics appointed Cato as bishop, without royal approval, as required by Merovingian law. Cautinus, another cleric, went directly to the King and was appointed by Theudebald. The resulting power struggle ended with Cautinus installed as bishop. An amusing sequel to this is that Cato was later offered the office of Bishop of Tours but declined, thinking he might still have a shot at Clermont-Ferrard by directly requesting it of the king. When this failed he decided he was willing to take the Tours job but Lothar basically told him he screwed up by not accepting it in the first place and took back the offer.

Using this case as an example, Dry moved to a discussion of characteristics of episcopal succession. This often became a local power struggle and could be violent. Royal control was a significant aspect of this and generally the appointees were Gallo-Romans. Clerical appointees often were selected based on their political utility, loyalty to the throne, and personal wealth.

The episcopal office frequently involved the performance of duties that paralleled those of a governor. Bishops were often responsible for building programs, judicial decisions and even defending their cities.

Merovingian law was at odds with canon law which stated that selection of clerical officeholders was the responsibility of local clerics. Merovingian law required that these appointments be approved by the King. Gregory the Great was pretty disgusted with some of the things that went on including royal and lay appointments rather than clerical selection and the sale of offices through simony.

Dry recounted a few more instances of clerical-secular power struggles which I won’t repeat. However his message was clear – there was a tug-of-war in Merovingian Gaul over who had the power to appoint bishops, the lay aristocracy had frequent conflicts with clerics, and things were anything but peaceful.

This was a good paper. I think it’s important to recognize Masters level work – one reason why I’ve tried to state the level of those giving papers through these summaries. If he was a PhD and certainly a professor I would have looked for a bit more insight into this. The Merovingian lay-clerical conflicts went well beyond this, for example with Chilperic tearing up wills granting property to the Church, the use of churches as sanctuaries against royal justice, etc. And it wasn’t always a matter of conflict. As Barbara Rosenwein discusses in Negotiating Space (Cornell, 1999), charters of immunities were frequently issued by Merovingians to churches and monasteries. And the growth in the number of monasteries and churches during the period indicates that things weren’t all bad – I think Dry could have at least mentioned some of this to set the stage – and then discuss his specific topic. An over-reliance on Gregory of Tours (hard not to rely on him a lot for this) might be something else I’d warn him against. However he covered his topic well and certainly illustrated the sense of lay-clerical conflict in Merovingian Gaul – one of the fascinating aspects of the period, particularly considering how completely different the relationship dynamic between lay and clerical authority was during the Carolingian period.

I enjoyed this session. Good papers, topics I enjoyed and speakers who were engaging and interesting.

1 I have a feeling many people working in the field will be less than enthralled with my “public perception” reason for naming a new period. I can understand this – in my field we are, right now, changing the terminology we use for certain issues, purely on the basis of public perception. I’m less than thrilled with this – to me the language we use now is fine and accepted by those working in the field – but it’s where we’re going. I imagine to someone not working as a professional these terminology changes seem very appropriate and even desirable due to the perception issue.