The Holy Ampulla

Many years ago, I posted how Clovis I (c.466 - 511) was the first king of the Franks to be converted to Christianity, influenced by his Christian wife Clotilde and St. Rémy (also known as Remigius). There is a legend about his baptism that says that just as he was about to be baptized, a dove flew down from above carrying a vial of chrism, the oil needed for anointing.

That legend, however, was a later creation and seemed based on an earlier miracle of St. Rémy, called the "Legend of the Baptism of the Moribund Pagan." In this legend, when Rémy (c.437 - 533) was the Bishop of Reims, a dying pagan requested baptism, but there was no oil for anointing. Rémy asked that two vials be placed on the altar, and as he prayed they miraculously filled with a chrism that gave off an unearthly fragrance.

At the time of Archbishop Hincmar of Reims (806 - 882), Rémy's sepulcher was opened and found to contain two vials of oil. In a clever piece of marketing, Hincmar combined the discovery of the vials, the story of the pagan, and the knowledge that Rémy baptized Clovis, into a new legend that allowed him to declare that French kings in the future should all be crowned at Reims Cathedral and anointed with the miraculous oil that Reims possessed.

The Holy Ampulla is about 1.5 inches tall and made of Roman glass. Its use was first noted at the coronation of Louis VII in 1131, and the connection to Clovis and Rémy was made common knowledge. Its last use for a coronation (for a time) was that of Louis XVI in 1775, because it the ampoule was destroyed.

The illustration above is not the Holy Ampulla found in the tomb of St. Rémy. During the French Revolution, symbols of monarchy were routinely vandalized. Fearing the invasion of the cathedral, a cleric drained the chrism from the ampoule. Shortly after, a revolutionary smashed the ampoule. The fragments were saved by several of the faithful, and in 1823 they were brought together. A reliquary was ordered by Louis XVIII to house the fragments, and a new glass bulb was created to hold the oil. It is still preserved at the Saint-Rémi Basilica in Reims. The new Holy Ampulla and its contents were used for the coronation of Charles X in 1825.

And speaking of French kings, we've never said much about Louis VII, although he is connected to several posts of the past, including having one of the most amazing women of the Middle Ages divorce him for a younger man. Let's give Louis his due tomorrow.

"The Hands of the King...

...are the hands of a healer." This line from The Lord of the Rings sounds fantastical, but as a first-rate historian and medievalist, J.R.R.Tolkien knew well the idea that the laying on of hands by a king (or queen: that's Mary I of England in the illustration) could heal illness. This was supposedly possible because of their "divine right" as anointed kings.

The King's Touch, or Royal Touch, was the practice of laying on of hands by English and French monarchs that was believed to cure diseases, particularly the King's Evil, scrofula. Hippocrates thought scrofula was a disproportionate accumulation of phlegm.

Scrofula, a disease of the lymph nodes, is now called mycobacterial cervical lymphadenitis, and is associated with tuberculosis. It usually manifests as a painless swelling in the lymph nodes of the neck caused by infection. It almost disappeared in the second half of the 20th century, but the appearance of HIV/AIDS has caused a small resurgence.

Where did the Royal Touch start? A 16th-century physician thought it began with Clovis I (reigned 481 - 511) after he accepted Christianity. Many other origins are offered. King Philip I of France (1052 - 1108) was perhaps the first time a king's touch was requested to heal a stubborn disease, so the French say. King Henry I of England (1068 - 1135) was appealed to for the same reason, although some scholars believe Edward the Confessor (reigned until 1066) was the first. The French denied this, and claimed that it started with Henry in England only because he was imitating Philip. What we can say is that records under Edward I show the practice of a penny given to sufferers afterward was established by 1276, two years after Edward's arrival back in England as king. Some say this means it was probably introduced by Edward's father, the pious Henry III, who was also a huge fan of Edward the Confessor and might have patterned his behavior after that monarch and therefore—but let's just stop there because there's too much speculation to reconcile all the conflicting theories. The record of tokens handed out suggests that Edward "touched" about a thousand people a year.

Scrofula became known as the "King's Evil" because an appeal to the king was considered the best recourse. John Gaddesden (1280 - 1361) recommends it as treatment for scrofula and other skin diseases. Eventually, a special gold-plated coin would be given by the king to the sufferer to be worn around the neck to ward off the disease. The truth is, the disease rarely was associated with death, and often went into remission on its own, supporting the notion that the king's touch cured the patient.

The Royal Touch persisted into the Renaissance, even though there was plenty of evidence that it did not inevitably lead to a cure. The formula in France added the line Le roi te touche, Dieu te guérisse ("The King touches you, may God heal you"), taking the burden of healing off the king's shoulders (or hands) and placing the possible healing on God. Louis XIV of France touched 1600 people on Easter 1680. Voltaire wrote that a mistress of Louis XIV died of scrofula despite "being very well touched by the king." Louis XV stopped the practice by not calling sufferers to be touched at Easter 1739. Louis XVI touched 2400 at his coronation in 1775, and Charles X touched 121 at his coronation in 1825, but there are no records of the Royal Touch being used after that date.

But where does the word scrofula come from? That's a slightly trickier question that will lead us into sympathetic magic and the Doctrine of Signatures. That's for another day.

Long Hair and Kingship

Gregory of Tours mentions, regarding an event in which the body of King Clovis I was exhumed, "Though I did not know who he was, I recognised from the length of the hair that it was Clovis." Elsewhere he refers to theFranks as reges criniti, the "long-haired kings." The post just prior to this tells of a choice offered to a queen to have princes shorn or killed; she chooses killed rather than the shame of princes who are shorn of their locks and therefore denied the chance to some day rule. Gregory tells another anecdote of King Clovis defeating a rival king who betrayed him, Chararic, cutting short the hair of him and his son and confining them in a monastery. When it was later reported to Clovis that the son had remarked to his father that they should grow their hair long again, Clovis had them killed.

Human cultures have developed many ways to indicate social cues, and hair length and style has certainly been one way to distinguish the upper from the lower echelons, but the Merovingians took it to an entirely new level.

We have every reason to believe that the Franks, like the Romans, kept their hair short, so the Merovingian line of royalty would have stood out from the common folk. It was not necessary that the hair had never been cut, just that it was long. Why this was so, we cannot say for certain. Some suggest it is simply a distinction between the Germanic military culture and the Roman religious culture of the various peoples that the Merovingians conquered, but that is too simplistic to be accurate.

When the Merovingian kings began to become lazy, their "Mayors of the Palace" managed their affairs, effectively running the kingdom. The last Merovingian king was Childeric III, whose Mayor of the Palace was Charles Martel, the "Hammer." According to Charlemagne's biographer Einhard, Charles allowed Childeric "to sit on his throne, content with the name of king only, with his long hair and flowing beard, and give the appearance of sovereignty." Eventually, Martel's son, Pepin the Short, took the throne with the backing of Pope Zachary. He had Childeric tonsured and sent with his also-shorn son Theuderic to separate monasteries.

You may recall in the post on Childebert how his brother Chlodomer was killed in battle against Burgundy. A Byzantine historian, Agathias, writes a contemporary account of the battle, giving us a little more on the attitude toward hairstyles in different cultures:

And when he fell, the Burgundians, seeing his hair flowing and abundant, loose down to his back, at once realised that they had killed the enemy leader. For it is the rule for Frankish kings never to be shorn; instead, their hair is never cut from childhood on, and hangs down in abundance on their shoulders. Their front hair, is parted on the forehead and falls down on either side. Their hair is not uncombed and dry and dirty and braided up in a messy knot like that of the Turks and Avars; instead, they anoint it with unguents of different sorts, and carefully comb it. Now this it is their custom to set apart as a distinguishing mark and special prerogative for the royal house. For their subjects have their hair cut all round, and are not permitted to grow it further.

The few seals of Merovingian kings that we have show the long hair, parted in the middle. Hair styles among the common folk might have been varied, but notably long hair was reserved for, and crucial to, the Merovingian royalty.

Now for another of those names I feel I have neglected: Einhard is significant because of his life of Charlemagne, and I'll tell you more next time.

Saint Clotilde and Murder

Clotilde is considered a saint by both the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches. She was an early supporter of St. Geneviève, she built the chapel that later became the Abbey at Chelles, and it was probably her influence that persuaded her husband, Clovis, to return the Vase of Soissons to St. Rémy after one of his soldiers took it post-conquest.

Most details of her life come from Gregory of Tours. She was born about 474 at Lyons, the daughter of King Chilperic II of Burgundy. Chilperic had two brothers, Gundobad and Godomar. At the death of their father, Gondioc, Gondioc's kingdom was divided among the three brothers. Gundobad turned on Godomar, and then on Chilperic, killing his brothers and their families, in order to reunite their father's kingdom under one ruler. Clotilde fled to her uncle, Godegisel.

Clovis and Godegisel joined in war against Gundobad, eventually defeating (but not killing) him; Clovis, King of the Franks, received an annual tribute from Burgundy after that. He also requested Clotilde's hand in marriage; Gundobad was not in a position to refuse.

Clovis I and Clotilde were married in 493. They had four sons (Ingomer, who died shortly after birth; Chlodomer, Childebert I, and ClotharI) and a daughter, Chrotilda. Clotilde insisted on baptism for her children; Clovis, not a Christian, objected, and when Ingomer died soon after birth and baptism, he criticized her. Yet, she persisted, and Chlodomer survived baptism, after which she had less opposition to raising the children in her faith.

Her greatest religious triumph may have been in 496 when Clovis was on the eve of battle with the Alemanni. He prayed to her God that he would be baptized if he were victorious. He prevailed in the Battle of Tolbiac and was baptized by Bishop Remigius of Reims on Christmas Day 496 (he is the St. Rémy in the link above). This Catholicism would aid him and his children in the future, ensuring the political support of the Roman Empire against many of the Franks' foes, who were Arian Christians.

When Clovis died in 523, Clotilde retired to the Abbey of St. Martin at Tours. She did not retire from public influence entirely, however. Even a saint is not immune to the desire for revenge, and the murderer of her father, her uncle Gundobad, was still ruling Burgundy. It is believed that her three sons' attack (and decade-long war) on Burgundy was instigated by her.

Also, her position as queen may have overruled the softer sensibilities one might expect from a mother and one who would later be considered a saint. During the war with Burgundy, her eldest son Chlodomer was killed. His part of the kingdom was to be divided among his three sons, further fracturing the kingdom of the Franks. Childebert and Clothar did not want this, and (the story goes), turned to Clotilde for... "advice." The two sent her two items: scissors and a sword. The implication was clear: the boys could be killed, or they could be shorn. (Long hair was a necessary mark of kingship for this particular culture, as mentioned here.) Supposedly, her reply was "It is better for me to see them dead rather than shorn, if they are not raised to the kingship." (Of course, we have no proof of this, but for these anecdotes to circulate about someone who was generally revered suggests there may be a kernel of truth.)

Clotilde died in 545 and was buried beside Clovis in the Church of the Holy Apostles (which is now the Abbey of St. Geneviève). Veneration of her made her the patron saint of queens, widows, brides, and those in exile.

Now, about that long hair think: how important was it? Let's talk about that tomorrow.

Childebert I

Childebert was the third of the four sons of Clovis I, who united all the Frankish tribes in Gaul for the first time, and then had it divided up again at his death (511 CE) among his sons. Childebert's brothers were Theuderic I, Chlodomer, and Clothar I. In the division, Childebert received Paris and everything to the north to the English Channel coast and west to Brittany and its coast.

The brothers joined in 523 to war against Godomar of Burgundy and his brother, Sigismund. (Clovis had defeated Godomar's father in 500, forcing Burgundy to pay tribute.) Godomar escaped the first encounter, but Chlodomer took Sigismund prisoner. Godomar rallied the Burgundians and regained his lost territory, but Chlodomer executed Sigismund. Fighting continued for a decade until 534 when Godomar was killed and Burgundy taken over.

Sadly for Chlodomer, he was killed in the final battle. Childebert and Clothar did not want his kingdom of Orléans to be divided among his three children, so they conspired to eliminate them. The eldest two were killed; the youngest escaped to a monastery. Childebert annexed Orléans and Chartres.

Future military campaigns gained him Geneva and Lyons. The king of the Ostrogoths ceded Provence to the Franks in 535; Childebert's share of the spoils were Arles and Marseilles.

He also invaded the Iberian Peninsula on behalf of his sister, Chrotilda. She had been married to King Amalaric of the Visigoths. (A purely political move: Amalaric's father Alaric II had been killed by Chrotilda's father, Clovis I. This marriage was supposed to cease national hostilities; it did nothing to assuage personal hostility.) She was Catholic; he pressured her to convert to the heretical Arianism. Gregory of Tours writes that he even beat her until she bled, and she sent a bloody towel to her brother.

Childebert attacked Amalaric, who fled but was assassinated. He brought his sister home, but she died along the way; he buried her in Paris next to their father. He also brought back the tunic of St. Vincent of Saragossa, patron of vintners, sailors, and brickmakers.

Childebert expanded his boundaries and built more religious structures than any of his brothers. He died on 13 December 558, leaving two daughters, who according to Salic Law could not inherit. His territory went to his younger brother Clothar I.

Here's a question: if Burgundy was already paying tribute to Gaul, was the war against Godomar necessary? Necessary, no; but motivated by a powerful force: a mother's wishes. I also left out a crucial and related detail regarding the disinheriting of Chlodomer's sons. I'll explain tomorrow.

St. Geneviève

St. Geneviève was born a peasant in Nanterre around 419/22 CE. One day, while St. Germanus was passing through Nanterre, she told him she wanted to devote herself to God. He told her she should live a life espoused to Christ. At the age of 15, she decided to devote herself to the Christian life and move to Lutetia.

She spent 30 years mortifying her flesh through extensive fasting and abstaining from meat. Her austerity was considered excessive by her ecclesiastical superiors, who urged her to deprive herself less. She drew many visitors due to her piety, even divine visitors: she reported so many visions of angels that those jealous of her threatened to drown her in a lake. A visit by St. Germanus convinced her detractors to trust her.

Her piety was so strong that, when Attila was approaching Paris in 451, she convinced the people to pray instead of fleeing; the strength of her prayers turned the Huns instead to attack Orléans instead (I guess they did not have a saint to pray for them). In 464, Clovis and his father Childeric were besieging Paris (Gallo-Roman clergy were very resistant to the Frankish attempt to bring all of Gaul under its banner), Geneviève crossed their lines to bring grain to the city, and persuaded them to be merciful to the citizens.

Clotilde, the wife of King Clovis, was a patron and supporter of Geneviève, and may have commissioned her biography. Clotilde—a Catholic whom Clovis married partially to placate the clergy, whose cooperation he eventually realized he would need—was known for religious patronage; you can read about an example here.

Clovis (no doubt at Clotilde's urging) built an abbey where Geneviève could live. After her death, her tomb at the abbey saw many visitors and many miracles. In 1129, an epidemic of ergot poisoning was ravaging the city; it subsided after her relics were paraded through town.

Louis XV ordered a new church for the "patron saint of Paris." Before it was finished, her relics were destroyed in 1793 during the French Revolution, but some were recovered, and the church was finished and reconsecrated in 1885.

I was going to talk next about why she moved to "Lutetia" (see the first paragraph) and yet was called the "patron saint of Paris," but right now I really want to talk about ergot poisoning, so that's next.

Boethius

Boethius (left, with numbers from India)
debating Pythagoras (right, with an abacus)
while Arithmetic looks on

Boethius has been mentioned in passing before for his writing. An early philosopher whose works were very important to the Middle Ages, in life he was an important public servant from a noble family who rose very high before he fell.

Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius was born about 480 to a prominent family that had produced a couple emperors; his father became a Roman consul in 487 but died shortly thereafter, leaving Boethius to be adopted by the aristocrat and historian Symmachus. Symmachus and Boethius were fluent in Greek, which might have figured into their execution—but we are getting ahead of ourselves.

Boethius went to work for Theodoric the Great, and some of his actions on behalf of the King of the Ostrogoths have survived in the records.

• Procuring or producing a waterclock for Theodoric to give to Gundabad of the Burgundians.
• Finding a lyre player to perform for King Clovis.
• Investigating irregularities in Theodoric's paymaster.

In his famous work De consolatione philosophiæ ["The Consolation of Philosophy"], which he wrote in prison, he says that his greatest accomplishment was getting his sons, Boethius and Symmachus, appointed co-consuls in 522.

Boethius did so well in his career that he was made magister officiorum ["master of duties"], responsible for overseeing all government services. That's probably where the trouble started. Kings and emperors can be mistrustful of those around them with too much power—even if the emperor gave him the power in the first place. Boethius was put in charge of reconciling the differences that had grown up between the Western Roman and Eastern Byzantine Empires. His political powers and education and ability to speak Greek (rare in the West) made him ideally suited for this. He was accused (falsely) of treasonous dealings with the Eastern Emperor Justin I against Theodoric. For this he was exiled, then executed. His adoptive father Symmachus was later put to death on the charge of collusion with Boethius to overthrow Theodoric—a charge which seems unlikely.

He was executed in 525, but his writings survived. He wrote many books, including translations of Aristotle's works on logic; Boethius' translations were the only access to Aristotle's logic available to western Europe until the 12th century. He also produced De arithmetica on the four uses of arithmetic: arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy.*

The Consolation of Philosophy is believed to have been written while he was in exile. It covers many topics, one of which gave the modern era the title of one of its most popular game shows. But that's a story for tomorrow.

*These are the four parts of the quadrivium, taught in medieval universities; it is likely that the curriculum was arranged thus because of Boethius.

The Abbey at Chelles

A 17th century depiction of Chelles Abbey

The 7th century saw a great trend in France and Britain of women entering religious houses. One of these became a great center for learning and for reproducing manuscripts—and a retirement home for aristocratic ladies.

Chelles Abbey, founded c.658, was previously a royal villa belonging to the Merovingian line. Its association with religion may have started about 511 when a chapel to St. George was installed by Clotilde, wife of King Clovis I (466 - c.511). That chapel eventually crumbled, but over a century later Balthild, wife of King Clovis II (637 - 657), founded the abbey in place of the chapel. Her financial support enabled the new abbey to build the Church of the Holy Cross. Balthild (c.626 - 680) retired to the abbey and died there, but not before it had gained a reputation for learning that also attracted men, leading to a second monastery for them.

Balthild was not the only royalty who entered the abbey. Its first abbess was the aristocratic Berthild of Chelles. Hereswith, a princess of Northumbria (whose son Ealdwulf was a king of East Anglia in the later 7th century), wished to pursue a religious life and went to Chelles as the only option at the time. Charlemagne's sister Gisela was abbess from 800-810. Ladies of the aristocracy and royalty considered Chelles an appropriate recipient of their charity and of themselves when they wished their worldly life to be over.

In the 800s the nuns became known also for their scriptorium. There are several different names signed to many of the manuscripts, but the form of lettering is the same, showing that there was careful attention to a "house style."  This particular style of lettering allows scholars to trace many medieval manuscripts to the copyists and writers of Chelles. The advanced education of the nuns is evident by the academic nature of what they were copying, which included highly philosophical works by important early Christian authors.

500

This is the 500th post on the Daily Medieval blog. In its honor, let us look at the year 500 CE and how it overlaps some of the previous 499  posts.

500 was a leap year. January 1st was a Saturday. July 4th was a Tuesday.

It was the birth year of Gildas, a monk, who wrote the De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae ["On the Ruin & Conquest of Britain"], a chief source of history for early Britain, although much is called into question. A life of St. Gildas written later by a friend of Geoffrey of Monmouth makes Gildas out to be a contemporary of King Arthur, and yet Gildas never mentions him. He does mention the Battle of Mount Badon, for which 500 is a possible date.

It is the year that Clovis I pursues King Gundobad of the Burgundians after a military engagement, forcing him to pay annual tribute.

It is the approximate date of the formation of the Kingdom of the Franks, that reached a high point a few centuries later with the family of Charles Martel.

It is the approximate birthdate of Aregund, whose jewelry provided an impressive grave excavation.

It is the birthdate of the Byzantine historian Procopius, from whom we learn how the West got the secret of silk from Nestorian monks.

500 was, of course, only the year according to the Julian calendar.
For the Romans, it was 1253 Abs urbis condita ["from the city's founding"].
Jews considered it the year 4260-61.
The Byzantines numbered years from the founding of the world, 5509 years before Christ, so to them it was 6008-09 (the year started on 1 September).

Thanks for reading!

The Lazy Kings

What do you do when a dynasty seems to become useless? You name them Le Rois fainéants (The do-nothing Kings).

The Merovingians are the descendants of Merovech or Merovius, a semi-legendary figure whose father was—according to various reports, such as the Chronicle of Fredegar, expanding on something said by Gregory of Tours—a sea deity. Whatever the case, his son Childeric I (c.457-481) was known to be leader of the Salian Franks, and his son Clovis I united all of Gaul.

The Salian Franks came to an agreement with the Roman Empire. The Salians settled in what had been Roman territory at one time, built a decent political alliance with Rome, and slowly adopted some Roman culture, shifting from the reputation of the Germanic tribes as uncouth and warlike. When Attila and his Huns became a problem for Rome, the emperor was able to call on the Salian Franks—by now well-established as the Merovingian dynasty—for aid, ending the threat to Europe from the Huns.

The adoption of Christianity was another trend that helped change the composition of Frankish culture in Gaul. Although Goths and others adopted the heretical Arianism, the baptism of Clovis cemented ties between the Frankish kingdom and Roman Catholicism, giving them the support of the Pope as well as the Emperor.

Clovis' thirty-year rule may have been the high point of the dynasty, however. The Salic Law confirmed royal inheritance exclusively to male descendants, but not limited to the eldest. Clovis' kingdom was divided among his four sons upon his death. Sibling rivalry often turned into civil war among Clovis' descendants. Even worse: over the next two centuries, these frequent struggles between adjacent sub-kingdoms and the desire to reunite them under one banner had an unintended consequence. Young heirs sometimes became tools of strong military leaders who wanted to cement some power for themselves but needed a divinely anointed king under which to do it. By the 7th century, with much of Frankish land brought together again, the Merovingian line became a series of weak kings who seemed disinterested or simply unable to take control and do anything notable. From 675 (Clovis III, king of Austrasia for one year) to the death of Theuderic IV in 737 (after which the throne was empty for seven years), there were a half-dozen kings of the Franks who are called le rois fainéants because of their uselessness and complete lack of administrative agenda or ability. It was a sad ending to what might have been a noteworthy dynasty in that part of the world.

So...what if you were a competent administrator working in the palace, seeing the problems and wishing you could help get the kingdom back on track? Well, if you are a top administrator with the nickname "Charles the Hammer," you take things into your own hands—for the good of the kingdom, of course. That's a good story for tomorrow.

Gregory of Tours

Chilperic I speaking to Bishop Gregory

Georgius Florentius (539-593) was born into a distinguished Gallo-Roman family in Arverni in southern France. His father died when he was young, and Georgius went to live with his uncle, Bishop Gal, who educated him as a cleric. After recovering from a serious illness, he decided to join the church, and he changed his name to Gregory in honor of his mother's great-grandfather, the Bishop of Langres.

In 573, he was appointed Bishop of Tours by Sigebert I, King of Austrasia and Auvergne. He traveled to Rome to have his appointment confirmed, where the 6th century Latin poet Fortunatus wrote a poem to commemorate him. A bishop had many civic as well as ecclesiastical duties, and Gregory justified the faith in him by tending to his flock and challenging the shortcomings of politicians. The Frankish dynasties at the time were not living up to the standards of leadership established by King Clovis (466-511), and their rule often descended into petty disputes and civil war. When Sigebert fought a war with Chilperic I (539-584; he was a son of Clothar I and Aregund), Gregory tried to make them see the damage they were doing to the common folk, proclaiming "This has been more hurtful to the Church than the persecution of Diocletian."*

As brave as he was in trying to ameliorate the crude Frankish culture with an infusion of more sophisticated Roman culture and Christian sensibility, he was also diligent in recording the history of his country. He wrote ten books of history (Historia Francorum, History of the Franks), seven on miracles, one on the lives of the early church fathers; he also wrote on liturgy and scripture.

His work can be called propagandist—or perhaps simply written unsurprisingly with his own personal filters—since Christian tribes and countries always come out looking better than pagans in his history. He also comes out strongly against Arianism and Jews. Despite his moralizing—maybe because of it—his anecdotes are an excellent view into the culture and customs of the time. His history, along with two other works called the "Chronicle of Fredegar" and the "Book of the History of the Franks," provide an almost unbroken history of Gaul for 300 years after the Fall of Rome. He is also fairly objective at times: his writing on miracles questions the truth of some of them.

He is also our best source of history for the Frankish dynasty called the Merovingians while it was still strong and founding what would eventually become the nation of France. He would have been saddened a hundred years later to find a line of kings so different from Clovis and Chilperic that they would be called the "do-nothing kings." But that's a tale for another day ... like tomorrow.

*Diocletian (245-313) was the emperor responsible for the final and worst wave of Christian persecution in the Roman empire.

St. Rémy

In the history of medieval Christianity, there are stories of entire countries converting all at once. The tale of St. Rémy (c.437-533) is one.

St. Rémy baptizes Clovis

Rémy, also known as Remigius, was born to a very prominent Gallo-Roman family in Laon. He studied literature at Reims. His reputation for piety and learning was so great that at the age of 22 he was appointed Archbishop of Reims. Clovis I, King of the Franks (reigned 481-511), had a Christian wife, the Burgundian Clotilde. Clovis was friendly and generous to the church in Reims. Rémy decided to make it his life's work to Christianize the Frankish kingdom.

One legend in particular attests to the good relations between the king and the archbishop. When Clovis conquered Soissons under Syagrius in 486, his soldiers plundered the church there. St. Rémy asked Clovis to return, if nothing else, at least the very special Vase of Soissons, one of the greatest pieces owned by the church of Soissons. Clovis agreed, claiming the Vase as his own part of the booty, but the soldier who had taken it was angry at having to give it up and broke it irreparably. Clovis returned the pieces to the church; a year later, he had that soldier killed with his own axe, telling him "Just as you did to the vase at Soissons!"

According to chronicler Gregory of Tours (writing a century later), Clovis agreed to convert to Christianity after his 496 victory at Tolbiac: he had prayed to his wife's God after seeing so many of his men being killed against the Alemanni tribes. We are told that the Alemanni began to flee at the completion of Clovis' prayer. Clovis agreed to be baptized; it was performed by St. Rémy, along with the baptisms of 3000 Franks.

More specifically, Clovis was baptized into Roman Catholic Christianity, which helped to make a distinction between him and the other German tribes establishing themselves in Europe. Groups like the Visigoths and Vandals were Christians, but had embraced Arianism, which by this time was deemed heretical. The choice of Clovis brought him into the favor of Rome and aligned him with the more mainstream version of Christianity. This was a major event in the life of St. Rémy, who is now considered the patron saint of France. St. Rémy also supposedly converted an Arian bishop to Roman views at a synod Rémy held in 517.

Of his writings, all are lost except for a few letters, two of which are to Clovis. A legend that attached itself to St. Rémy is the Baptism of the Moribund Pagan. When a dying pagan asked for baptism, Rémy discovered that he did not have the chrism—the sacred oils—needed to perform the ceremony. He placed two empty vials on the altar and prayed, whereupon they were filled with the two oils needed. When his crypt was opened during the reign of Charles the Bald (823-877), they found two vials containing very aromatic oils. Scholars have hemmed and hawed over these. Were they actually the two vials of the legend? Were they two vials placed symbolically in the coffin because of the legend? Or were they two vials of perfumes placed in the coffin to cover the odor of putrefaction?*

To the Archbishop of Reims at the time, Hincmar, it was clear: these vials confirmed the Legend of the Baptism of the Moribund Pagan. Clearly, the oil was that very same used for Baptism, and since Rémy also baptized King Clovis, it was clear (to Hincmar) that Reims ought to be recognized as the appropriate church for the future anointing of the Kings of France. Any relics associated with him (the locations of the two vials are no longer known for certain) now reside in the Abbey of Saint-Rémy in Reims.

*This particular theory also points out that the method of making perfumed oils was known to the Romans, but lost to Europe by the time of the Carolingians. In the 800s, they would have seemed miraculous, since the art of making perfume was unknown.