Showing posts with label Dagobert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dagobert. Show all posts

Monday, March 17, 2014

One for Cat Lovers

from Limburg Cathedral
It is 17 March, and normally St. Patrick gets all the attention today, but he is not the only saint whose feast day is celebrated on this date (although, arguably, his feast day is celebrated more heartily than any other saint).

Take a close look at the lower-left corner of the stained glass window pictured here. You will see a rodent gazing up at the saint, who gazes gently down at it. This is Saint Gertrude, patron of travelers and cat lovers.

Gertrude of Nivelles was born c. 626 to Pippin/Pepin of Landen, a 7th century Mayor of the Palace under Dagobert I (previously mentioned here and here). As daughter of a Mayor of the Palace (who was himself very powerful and not just a chamberlain to the king), she would have had some status—at least, as a link to the family. The story goes that King Dagobert wanted to make a political alliance by marrying her to the son of the Duke of Austrasia. She refused, claiming she would take no earthly spouse, but rather Christ the Lord. That she was able to refuse the king's wishes attests to the power of her family.*

After Pippin's death, his wife, Itta, took control of Gertrude's life and career. The biography written about her—Vita Sanctae Geretrudis—tells that her mother tonsured her, cutting off all her hair except for a crown shape, in order to mark her for the religious life and prevent the prospect of marriage. A close examination of the Vita suggests that it as written by someone who was contemporary with Gertrude, and may have witnessed some of the events involved first-hand.

Itta founded an abbey in Nivelles, in the center of what is now Belgium. Itta also contacted Irish monks led by Saint Foillan, who settled at Nivelles. Foillan seems to have been a bishop, whose status helped give authority to the founding and organizing of Nivelles.

Gertrude has miracles attributed to her. The first was when she observed a transparent flaming globe descend and float above her while praying in the basilica. The second is when the invocation of her name by some men sailing on the monastery's business causes a storm and a sea monster both to fade away. This makes her the patron saint of travelers. She and her mother supposedly kept cats in order to control the rodent population in the monastery, which makes her the patron saint of cats and cat lovers; or, at least, the patron saint against mice.

She fasted and deprived herself frequently, which took a toll on her body. She died on 17 March 659, aged only (but symbolically) 33 years. The author of the Vita claims her cell was filled with a pleasant odor at her death; this is the "Odor of Sanctity" associated with saints.

*I have written before of the power of the Mayors of the Palace and their eventual supplanting of the Merovingian kings, creating the Carolingian dynasty. At least one scholar believes that Gertrude's marriage to an eventual Austrasian Duke would have been advantageous for her family and led to a takeover from the Merovingian line even sooner. (Wemple, Suzanne Fonay. Women in Frankish Society: Marriage and the Cloister, 500-900.)

Monday, January 21, 2013

Electrical Engineers

Electrical and Mechanical Engineers have their own patron saint—at least, in the British Army they do.

Saint Eligius (or Eloi, or Eloy) was born about 588 near Limoges, France. His father recognized skill in him, and sent him as a young man to a noted goldsmith to learn a trade. He became so good at it that he was commissioned by Clothar II, King of the Franks, to make a golden throne decorated with precious stones. With the materials he was given, he made the throne with material left over ("enough for two" it was said). Since it was not unknown for artisans to use less than they were given and hide away the excess for their own wealth, Eligius' honesty in designing the throne was noteworthy.

On the death of Clothar, his son Dagobert became King of the Franks. Dagobert (c.603 - 19 January 639) appointed Eligius his chief councilor. Dagobert is considered the last king of the Merovingian line to wield any real power on his own. After him came the weak kings that allowed the Mayors of the Palace to establish the Carolingian dynasty.

Dagobert and Eligius became very close, and it is said that Dagobert relied in Eligius heavily—sometimes exclusively—for advice. With Dagobert's help (i.e., money) Eligius established several monasteries, purchased and freed slaves brought into Marseilles, sent servants to cut down the bodies of hanged criminals and give them decent burial.

In 642, the goldsmith and councilor became a cleric when Eligius was made Bishop of Noyon. He undertook to convert the non-Christians in his diocese, and preached against simony in the church. Some of his writings have survived.

But it was the legends after his death that gave him his current reputation. Of course he is the patron of goldsmiths and craftsmen, and is often depicted holding a bishop's crozier in one hand and a hammer in the other. By extension, he is the patron of all metalworkers, which would include blacksmiths. Over time, the skills of the blacksmith evolved into the skills of mechanical engineers. But that is not to say that Eligius was not a problem-solver on a par with engineers. The legend tells that he was once faced with a horse that refused to cooperate with being shod. Eligius cut off the leg that needed shoeing, put a horseshoe on the detached hoof, then re-attached the leg to the horse! The Corps of Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers of the British Army have taken Eligius for their patron saint.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

A Grave Strikes Gold

I have mentioned St.-Denis in Paris as the first church in the Gothic style. That project was a re-building of an earlier church—a church, in fact, that would be notable to historians even if it had not been turned into an architectural wonder by Abbot Suger.

Ring inscribed to Aregund (ARNEGUNDIS)
Originally, the structure was a martyrium—a shrine to the martyr Saint Denis, whose head had been carried to that spot (by his decapitated body) while preaching a sermon. This would have been some time in the 3rd century. Dagobert, a King of the Franks (c.603-639), built an abbey on the spot, preserving the crypts that had been installed over the centuries to house kings of France and important figures. The first mention of a church is of one begun in the reign of Pepin the Short (c.714-768), whose son, Charlemagne, finished it. Then, of course, Abbot Suger in the 12th century re-worked much of it into what stands today. All of the building and re-building went upwards, and what was below the surface was untouched for centuries, until later scholars decided to examine the crypts.

Some of the crypts are not marked well. Knowing a list of interments, however, scholars could use a process of elimination along with various dating techniques and even DNA testing to determine the identity of the subjects. There's also direct evidence. An archaeologist and art historian in 1959, examining the contents of one unlabeled sarcophagus, struck gold. Along with the remarkably well-preserved clothing on a female body, he found a gold ring inscribed to Aregund.

Belt clasp from Aregund's jewelry collection
Aregund was one of the wives of Clothar I (511-561), an early Frankish king in the line that led to Dagobert. Her burial provided insight into clothing of the 6th century, but also into how wealthy the early Frankish kings were:
The deceased wore a violet-coloured silk skirt, held in place by a large leather belt that had a sumptuously decorated buckle plate and buckle counter-plate. Her reddish-brown silk tunic, decorated with gold braid, was fastened with a pair of round brooches with a garnet cloisonné decoration. [source]
To be frank,* there are some who believe the remains belong to another noblewoman who lived decades later. Most of the reasoning is based on the age of the sarcophagus. The arguments neglect the simple possibility that Aregund was re-interred—not an uncommon occurrence. Even if the identity were up for debate, however, the value of the contents as a glimpse into 7th century Frankish culture is incalculable.

*Yes, that's a pun.