· Web viewSince the latter half of the 20th century, historians have increasingly viewed the demographic, political, and religious changes in Western Europe during Late Antiquity

“The Hand of God was Over the Battle-Line”Conversion and the Definition of Catholic Identity Against a ‘Heathen’ Other in the Chronicles

of Late Antiquity

Walden Dylan Nichol

History 400

April 25, 2016

1

As the 6th century CE neared its end, Gregory, Bishop of Tours, composed the Decem

Libri Historiarum. Better known as Historia Francorum or the History of the Franks, Gregory of

Tours’ ten books were written to trace the history of the Franks from the beginning of time until

the bishop’s death. In the second book of his History Gregory inscribed the life of Clovis, unifier

of Francia, grandson of legendary Merovech, and the first Frankish king to ‘accept Christ.’

Gregory wrote of Clovis’ climactic battle against the Alamanni which had occurred a century

earlier, in which the king’s desperate prayers to the Christian God had led to a Frankish victory

aided by divine intervention. In his account of Clovis’ subsequent baptism, Gregory referred to

the Frankish king as ‘a new Constantine.’ In doing so he recalled the 4 th century narratives of

Eusebius and Lactantius which had described the Roman emperor’s divinely assisted victory

over Maxentius, his Pagan rival. Concerning Constantine’s victory at the Milvian Bridge,

Lactantius spoke thusly:

Constantine was advised in a dream to mark the heavenly sign of God on the shields of his soldiers and then engage in battle…Maxentius marched out to battle. The bridge was cut down behind him. At the sight of this, the fighting became tougher, and the hand of God was over the battle-line. The army of Maxentius was seized with terror, and he himself fled in haste to the bridge which had been broken down; pressed by the mass of fugitives, he was hurled into the Tiber.1

In this passage from De Mortibus Persecutorum, Lactantius, a Christian rhetorician,

describes the role of divine favor in Constantine’s defeat of Maxentius at the Milvian Bridge in

312. Constantine – a Roman emperor who led his army in the name of the Christian God – had

defeated Maxentius, a rival emperor who worshipped deities of the traditional Roman pantheon,

with the aid of divine intervention.2 Three centuries later, this Constantinian model of battlefield

1 Lactantius, De Mortibus Persecutorum, J.L. Creed ed. & trans. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984), 44.5 & 44.8-9.

2 Phillip Wynn, Augustine on War and Military Service (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2013), 49-55.

2

conversion served as an inspiration for the chroniclers of the Franks and the Visigoths as they

penned the conversion narratives of their own ‘new Constantines.’

Gregory, Bishop of Tours, John of Biclaro, and Isidore, Bishop of Seville each penned a

chronicle which included an account of his people’s official conversion to Catholicism. The

conversion narratives penned by these three authors, each writing under similar but unique

circumstances around the intersection of the 6th and 7th centuries CE, reveal a common structure

evidently inspired by the Constantinian conversion narrative. These accounts of regal

conversion, one concerning Clovis of the Franks and two concerning Reccared of the Visigoths,

are not exemplary of ‘the conversion experience.’ While at times they bear the trappings of a

personal, subjective, conversion experience – the unwavering proselytizing of a loving wife, a

son’s abandonment of his violent father’s heretical faith – the core themes of these narratives are

political. By seizing upon the link between the conversion of ruler and subject, each chronicler

situates the conversion event at the culmination of a teleological narrative that justifies all pre-

conversion conquests as the means by which a unified Catholic kingdom was formed, and

justifies all post-conversion conquests by defining the Catholic ‘self’ and kingdom against a

Pagan, heretical, or simply obnoxious ‘other.’ Through a close reading of these conversion

narratives it is possible to see that while each account exhibits unique qualities stemming from

the circumstance of their authorship, supposed purpose, and temporal relation to the conversion

event in question, a general unifying framework for the conversion narrative that focuses on

societal consolidation through conversion and victory through Catholic faith can be inferred.

The foundation of this study rests upon three primary sources, all conversion narratives

written in the medium of the chronicle. These are Gregory of Tours’ History of the Franks (594),

John of Biclaro’s Chronicle (590), and Isidore of Seville’s History of the Kings of the Goths

3

(615). These conversion narratives do not stand as monolithic testaments to a single moment,

amputated from all other history. Each narrative is contextualized by the chronicle of which it is

a part, and follows a familiar pattern that often makes clear allusions to previous narratives of

conversion. Accordingly, while this study focuses on the entries of these three chronicles that

directly concern the conversions of Clovis and Reccared, care has been taken to situate each

conversion narrative amongst other relevant information from its respective chronicle.

While the chronicles of Gregory, John, and Isidore are excellent sources in themselves,

few texts exist through which their accuracy can be authoritatively criticized. In the case of

Gregory’s narrative of Clovis’ conversion, there are a number of letters contemporary to the

actual conversion event. In the case of Reccared’s conversion, we are less fortunate.3 A similar

tale can also be spun with regard to the relevant secondary-source material. While by no means

on par with the primary-source material in terms of scarcity, there certainly seem to be far fewer

historians of Late Antiquity than of the Classical or Medieval periods.4

At any rate, the tentatively interdisciplinary nature of this study has allowed for the

collection of a sufficient body of secondary source material. While a ‘historiography of the Late-

Antique conversion narrative’ cannot necessarily be said to exist, there most certainly is a

historiography of the ‘conversion of Europe’ as well as that of Gregory of Tours, John of

3 The events surrounding the conversion of the Visigothic aristocracy are notoriously uncertain. Evidence of this inconvenient situation can be found in J.N. Hillgarth’s “Coins and Chronicles: Propaganda in Sixth-Century Spain and the Byzantine Background.” As the title suggests, Hillgarth attempts to inform a reading of John and Isidore’s chronicles (specifically their mention of the rebellion and eventual murder of Hermenegild, Son of Leovigild) by examining coins minted at the time of the revolt.

4 It seems that in the imagination of most moderns, both cultures (Frankish and Visigothic) inhabit a space located in the murky origins of what would one day become the modern nation-states that inhabit roughly the same geographic locations as these peoples once did. This teleological view of history, which mirrors the attitudes of the Catholic chroniclers as they recounted their kingdoms’ progress towards conversion, is limiting as it fails to allow these peoples to exist in their own time. A great number of secondary sources which I have examined treat the events of Western European Late Antiquity as either a postscript to the Roman Empire or a prelude to the Medieval period. Instead of following this pattern, the present study focuses on the unique temporal space that Late Antiquity occupies between the Classical and Medieval periods as well as its authors’ allusions to the former and prefiguration of the latter.

4

Biclaro, and Isidore of Seville. For the purposes of this study, it is not pertinent to search earlier

than the latter half of the 20th century for works dealing with the ‘Christianization’ of Europe.

Although such work undoubtedly exists, I prefer to focus on opinions which at least endeavor to

provide some semblance of objectivity. Straying too far into the dark past of European

historiography would yield sources that subscribe exactly to the joke which this study dances

around: the assumed superiority of Christian European states backed up by a teleological view of

history. The earliest work concerning European conversion employed in this study is J.N.

Hillgarth’s 1986 revision of a 1969 sourcebook concerning the conversion of Western Europe.

For a theory of conversion, this study relies on Karl Morrison’s Understanding Conversion and

Conversion and Text. While a theory of conversion is rather incidental to this study, which

highlights the political ramifications of conversion narratives rather than the conversion

experiences themselves, it remains important background for the field. While Morrison labors to

complicate ‘the conversion experience’, this study focuses on the uniquely political importance

of the conversion narratives discussed herein. Finally, this study is most indebted to Martin

Heinzelmann’s work in Gregory of Tours: History and Society in the Sixth Century.5 Without

Heinzelmann’s work, along with Wynn’s furtherance of his reinterpretation of the Histories, my

comparison of the Frankish conversion narrative to those of the Visigoths would have been

impossible. While Gregory’s narrative can be read as far more moralizing than those of John and

Isidore, all three works serve as pieces of propaganda that historicize the Christianity of their

subjects by framing the history of their subjects as a teleological narrative culminating in the

emergence and preservation of a Catholic kingdom. In this style of narrative, Clovis’ subjugation

of the Alamanni is justified simply by its furtherance of the end-goal of the Christianization of

5 Heinzelmann’s Gregory of Tours: History and Society in the Sixth Century provided a new interpretation of Gregory of Tours’ Histories focusing on their biblical symbolism and exegesis.

5

Europe. Similarly, Leovigild’s wildly successful conquests in Iberia were considered justified

despite his heretical faith as they ultimately led to a unified Catholic kingdom in Iberia.

As suggested in the previous paragraph, the relevant historiography is lacking in detailed

and specific comparisons between these narratives. In remedy, this study presents a four-point

rubric by which to assess and compare the individual narratives:

1) The state (be it kingdom or empire) is threatened by an army that is clearly defined as an

‘other’ either because of the supposed geographic origin of its members or their faith.

2) The leader (be he emperor or king) of the state is encouraged to put faith in Christ as a means

of obtaining victory over this army of ‘others’, and does so.

3) The leader’s timely (and pragmatic, especially in the case of Clovis) embrace of Christian

faith defines his subjects as Christian by association, and leads to the defeat of the enemy by

means of divine intervention.

4) The newfound Christian faith of the victors justifies all past and future subjugation of the

heathen enemy as a defense of those who are ‘right’ against those who are ‘wrong’.

Although a useful and important tool, this rubric is entirely arbitrary without the context

of the conversion events to which it refers. Brief explanation is given here, but the rubric is

referenced in greater detail throughout the study. Part II Section I provides a particularly

thorough breakdown of each point through the lens of Gregory of Tours’ account of Clovis I’s

conversion. Within the context of the narrative from Lactantius at the beginning of this paper, we

may observe that Maxentius and his army are the pagan ‘other’ threatening the state (in this case

the unity of the Roman Empire). Likewise, Constantine is the leader who gains victory through

6

divine intervention by obeying a heavenly command to mark his soldiers as followers of the

Christian God. The matter of the fourth point of the rubric is, for the purposes of this study, more

closely discussed in relation to the three central narratives. However, one might dare infer simply

from the title of Lactantius’ work (De Mortibus Persecutorum or, ‘On the Deaths of the

Persecutors’) that Constantine’s conquests were considered very just indeed.

Before taking an overzealous leap into direct analysis of the narratives, it is necessary to

explore some theoretical background and historical context in which to situate the Frankish and

Visigothic conversion narratives. The following discussion relies on scholarly texts that present

theories of conversion, ideas of late Roman propaganda, and the Christian conception of heresy.

7

I“The followers of all kinds of sects have cast the shadow of the name Christian over your keen

intelligence with their views, diverse in their conjecture, various in their great number, and empty as far as truth is concerned.”

What is Conversion?

As a university student living in 21st century who does not identify with any religion, I

generally conceive of the contemporary ‘conversion experience’6 as a subjective experience of an

individual – an exercise in personal introspection that leads to some change in spirituality and/or

belief. I have generally conceived of historical conversion on a larger scale – as a process

through which a small number of pious individuals inculcate their beliefs in a great number of

people through some form of persuasion or coercion. These are etic views, and they are also

largely uninformed. Whatever a contemporary person’s perception of the conversion experience

may be, it does not follow that the same understanding was held by our predecessors. It is

therefore the responsibility of the historian of conversion to seek an emic perspective of

historical conversion in order to create a framework through which to examine its narrators.

In order to accurately evaluate narratives of conversion, it is important to properly grasp

the meaning of the term conversion as well as the idea of the conversion experience within the

historical context of the narratives in question. As previously mentioned, the contemporary

meaning of the term is not at issue here. Instead, we must seek to understand the historical

mentality of converts and the mentalities of those who have transmitted the narratives of those

conversion experiences to us. In Understanding Conversion, Karl Morrison emphasizes that

6 A term borrowed from Morrison, as is discussed in the following paragraphs.

8

when we have examined narratives of conversions, “we have encountered language, a text, rather

than an event.”7 This idea is key to a proper analysis of the narratives dealt with in this study.

While it is possible to gain insight as to the nature of the conversion event/experience itself

through a close reading, much more can be learned as to the nature of the narrative of conversion

and its author. The task of the conversion historian is therefore to locate the ‘metaphorical

reasoning’ that contributed to the construction of the conversion narrative as well as the

conceptualization of conversion at the time of the narrative’s composition.8

A key of the conversion experience as identified by Morrison is the search (on a societal

level as much on that of the individual) for ‘truth’ or, ‘true myth’. Morrison explains of his use of

the word myth that it is, “in a newer sense, analytic rather than descriptive…In this meaning,

empathies ingrained by myth provide the moral cohesion of society.”9 In his discussion of myth

Morrison references the Myth of Er, presented by Plato at the end of his Republic as a means by

which to ensure societal cohesion and pro-social behavior. By unifying the individuals that

constitute a state under a shared belief in judgment after death, the Myth of Er provides incentive

for moral and prosocial behavior.10 Conversion and adherence to Christian beliefs as a means of

unifying societies and justifying their expansion at the expense of the ‘other’ is a key theme in

the narratives addressed in this study. In the writings of Gregory of Tours, we will see that the

Christianity of the Franks is used to justify their subjugation of peoples who follow pagan or

heretical beliefs. In the writings of John of Biclaro and Isidore of Seville we will see that

conversion is seen as a bridge that created compatibility between the previously heretical ruling

dynasty and their largely Catholic subjects.

7 Karl Morrison, Understanding Conversion (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1992), 1-2. 8 Ibid., 7-8. 9 Ibid., 125. 10 Plato, Republic, 614b – 620d

9

It is apparent that these conversions worked to unify societies and foster support for the

ruling dynasty. If this is indeed the case, a question arises as to how aware the participants in

conversion and their chroniclers were of this effect. In Augustine on War & Military Service,

Phillip Wynn shows that the Roman emperors Constantine and Theodosius employed pro-

Christian propaganda in order to support their war efforts against pagan rivals and to appease an

increasingly Christian populace.11 Thus, it is possible that Clovis’ divinely aided victory against

the pagan Alamanni and Reccared’s unification of the subjects of the Visigothic kingdom were

simply emulations of this strategy. Likewise, their chroniclers served the purpose of outlining the

just nature of these events. While it is clear that the conversion events actually took place, it is

equally clear that their narrators are responsible for historicizing the events and using them to

explain, justify, and judge the dynasties of their contemporaries.

Bias in historicizing will likely never cease to be an issue. Key to the thesis of this paper

is a critical examination of events that have been labeled ‘Christianization,’ ‘collapse,’ and

‘invasion.’ The following pages begin by discussing the ‘fall’ of the Western Roman Empire and

how changing attitudes in historiography have allowed a less biased – or at least more diverse –

look at the processes surrounding this event and how they inform this study.

11 Phillip Wynn, Augustine on War & Military Service (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2013), 69-71 & 74-86.

10

Heretics and Pagans

Since the latter half of the 20th century, historians have increasingly viewed the

demographic, political, and religious changes in Western Europe during Late Antiquity as a

‘transformation’, rather than a ‘decline and fall’. In the 5th century, non-Roman ‘barbarians’

settled throughout the Western Roman Empire – sometimes peacefully, sometimes at odds with

their largely unwelcoming hosts. As Imperial power waned and individual ‘barbarian successor

states’ began to form, a conflict of religions began. The invaders brought with them their own

particular pagan beliefs, while many of the inhabitants of the western Roman lands still

worshipped the Roman pantheon. At the same time, Christian proselytizers were arriving from

the east.12 On a societal level, the process of conversion to Christian belief occurred widely but

not uniformly. Whereas most Roman inhabitants of the western territories became Catholic (or

what would become known as such), their new rulers – the ‘barbarian invaders’ – first converted

to Roman Paganism or Arianism. These differences, especially the contrast between Arianism

and Catholicism, presented serious sociopolitical issues for the barbarian successor kingdoms.

Arius, a Libyan churchman who lived during the 3rd and 4th centuries CE, taught a

doctrine of Christianity that was not in line with the ‘mainstream’ (or what would become the

mainstream) doctrine of Christianity. the crux of the differences between the doctrines is that

whereas Catholic or Nicaean Christianity held that Jesus Christ was ‘unbegotten’ and in fact at

once one with and separate from God, Arius taught that, “…the Son is not unbegotten nor in any

way a part of an Unbegotten…but he exists by will…[of] God…”13 Contemporary to Arius was

the reign of Constantine who, as we already know, sought to unite the Roman Empire under the

sign of Christ. In 325 Constantine summoned churchmen from throughout the empire to Nicaea 12 J.N. Hillgarth, Christianity and Paganism, 350-750: The Conversion of Western Europe (Philadelphia:

University of Pennsylvania Press, 1986), 1-2.13 R. P. C. Hanson, The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God: The Arian Controversy 318-281 AD

(Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993), 4-8.

11

with the ostensible purpose of settling on a uniform doctrine of Christianity, which was an

unprecedented event as it was supposed to include representatives of the church from every part

of the empire. This first council of what would become the Catholic church was instigated,

sponsored, and attended by a Roman emperor who was likely unbaptized and had apparently

embraced Christianity as a political and military strategy.14

Although the hugely controversial question of whether Christ and God were identical was

widely condemned starting in the 4th century, many of the invading tribes converted to Arianism

rather than Catholicism.15 Thus a great stratification was highlighted in the fledgling successor

kingdoms between a Pagan or Arian ruling class and a largely Catholic populace. The remaining

sections of this study directly examine how public events of conversion and the narration of

those events were propaganda that worked to mollify the potentially disastrous consequences of

this stratification.

II “Worship that which you have burned; burn that which you have worshipped”

14 R. P. C. Hanson, The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God: The Arian Controversy 318-281 AD (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993), 152-160.; Phillip Wynn, Augustine on War & Military Service (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2013)., 53-57.

15 J.N. Hillgarth, Christianity and Paganism, 350-750: The Conversion of Western Europe (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1986), 3.

12

This portion of the study presents conversion narratives authored by Gregory of Tours,

John of Biclaro, and Isidore of Seville. It is divided into two sections. The first section deals with

Gregory, his narrative of Clovis I’s conversion, and other primary sources that complicate

Gregory’s narrative. The second section follows a nearly identical framework, but deals with

John and Isidore’s respective narratives of Reccared’s conversion, how each narrative

complicates the other, and how some scholars have employed rather elusive primary sources can

be used to add to the picture.

Gregory of Tours & the Frankish Conversion Narrative

Throughout the 4th and 5th centuries CE, the Franks resided on the borders of the Roman

Empire – at times playing the alternate roles of allies and enemies. This prolonged interaction

with the Empire likely had somewhat of a ‘Romanizing’ effect on the Franks.16 By the time of

Clovis, when the Franks had settled largely in Northern Gaul along the Rhine, the Germanic

immigrants were greatly outnumbered by the Gallo-Roman peoples over which they ruled.17 By

the 4th century, much of Gaul had at least begun to convert to Christianity. This development is

in part evidenced by the steady abandonment of pagan shrines in Gaul throughout the late 3rd and

4th centuries.18 By the 6th century (subsequent to the conversion of Clovis and, ostensibly, all of

the Franks), Christian church councils were being held in Francia and Burgundy.19 By the time of

Gregory of Tours, Francia was widely considered to be a Christian kingdom. Pushing back

against scholars who have described the 6th century Franks as, “…Christian in name but pagan in

practice…”, Yitzhak Hen firmly asserts that 6th century Francia was indeed a deeply Christian

kingdom.20 While it would be foolhardy to attempt any authoritative statement on this matter, 16 Yitzhak Hen, Culture and Religion in Merovingian Gaul, AD 481-751 (Leiden: Brill, 1995), 23-24. 17 Ibid., 24. 18 Ibid., 10-12. 19 Ibid., 12.20 Yitzhak Hen, Culture and Religion in Merovingian Gaul, AD 481-751 (Leiden: Brill, 1995), 154-155.

13

especially considering the scope of this study, it is possible to imagine a middle-ground in which

pagan and Christian beliefs became entangled and conflated even while struggling for

dominance.21

In “The Individuality of Gregory of Tours”, Ian Wood notes that Gregory came from a

long line of Gallo-Roman Christians who were great supporters of the cult of St. Martin.22 In his

personal life, both before and after becoming the nineteenth bishop of Tours, Gregory was

deeply involved in Frankish politics and served as an advisor to Chilperic I.23 Scholarly interest

in Gregory that has steadily grown throughout the 20th century. Wood argues that while this trend

has resulted in the attribution of a wide range of personas to the bishop, little attempt has been

made (as of 2002) to, “…hold all the various elements of Gregory in balance.”24 This uncertainty

presents a problem for the modern scholar’s reading of Gregory’s works: do we see his works as

idiosyncratic and inconsistent, or as exemplars of a 6th Christian mentalité? As a remedy to this

conundrum, Wood suggests that the scholar attempt to complicate Gregory’s role as objective

commentator and question his motives.25 While no attempts are made in this study to form a

balanced or distinct portrait of Gregory the man, his words are afforded a healthy degree of

skepticism. This skepticism is motivated and informed by the assumption that as a deeply

political man, Gregory allowed (or perhaps intended) his political motivations to inform and

shape many of the narratives in his History.

21 Evidence of such confusion is seen later in the discussion of conflicting accounts of Clovis’ pre-conversion faith: Did he worship his ancestors? Did he worship the Roman gods? Was he an Arian Christian? While this study ultimately posits that the last of these musings is the most likely, the ‘truth’ has become largely irrelevant in its obscurity.

22 Ian Wood, “The Individuality of Gregory of Tours” in The World of Gregory of Tours, ed. Kathleen Mitchell and Ian Wood (Leiden: Brill, 2002), 31-32.

23 Ibid., 32-33. As bishop of Tours, Gregory was seated at a key crossing point of the Loire and a hub of intercourse between the Frankish kingdoms of Neustria and Aquitaine. Wood suggests that no matter his predisposition towards politics, Gregory’s position as bishop of Tours would have forced him to become politically active.

24 Ibid., 30. 25 Ibid., 31.

14

Gregory’s narrative of the conversion of Clovis I, written almost 100 years after the event

it describes, is remarkably similar to the excerpt from Lactantius’ De Mortibus Persecutorum

quoted above. Indeed, in his account of Clovis’ baptism – subsequent to the actual conversion

narrative – Gregory writes of how, “The new Constantine advanced to the font to wipe out the

disease of the old leprosy…”26 According to Gregory’s account, Clovis did not begin to seriously

consider conversion until faced with mortal danger and the annihilation of his army.27 Faced with

such a sight, the king looked upward and spoke as follows:

“Jesus Christ,” he said, “You who are proclaimed by Chlothild to be the Son of the living God, who are said to give aid to those in distress and to grant victory to those that put their hopes in You, I humbly implore Your glory for help. If You grant me victory over these enemies, and if I experience the power that people dedicated to Your name claim to have proven is Yours, then I shall believe in You and be baptized in Your name. For I have called upon my own gods, but as I am finding out, they have stopped helping me…”

As he said this, the Alamanni turned tail and started to run away. And when they saw that their king was killed, they yielded themselves to Clovis.28

There are several notable themes that Gregory’s narrative shares with that of Lactantius: Both

involve battle against a pagan host, divine intervention, and the resultant terror and rout of the

enemy culminating in the death of their leader. A unique characteristic of Gregory’s narrative is

that Clovis directly implores the heavens for aid during the battle, whereas Lactantius attributes

intervention of the divine on behalf of Constantine’s forces to the emperor’s decision to follow

instructions that he had received in a dream prior to the battle. However, exhortation to follow

the Christian God is a theme in Gregory’s account as well. As discussed in more detail below,

Clovis was often reminded of the benefits of conversion by the Queen of the Franks, Chlothild.29

26 Gregory of Tours, “Histories” in From Roman to Merovingian Gaul: A Reader, Alexander Callander Murray, ed. & trans. (Orchard Park: Broadview, 2000), 275.

27 Ibid., 274. 28 Ibid., 274.29 Ibid.,272-274.

15

Thus, as suggested in the introduction, the comparison of these two conversion narratives

yields what we might dare to call a ‘general rubric’ for the kingly conversion narrative in Late

Antiquity:

1) The state is threatened by an army that is clearly defined as an ‘other’ either because of the

supposed geographic origin of its members or their faith.

2) The leader of the state is encouraged to put faith in Christ as a means of obtaining victory

over this army of ‘others’, and does so.

3) The leader’s timely embrace of Christian faith defines his subjects as Christian by

association, and leads to the defeat of the enemy by means of divine intervention.

The key results of these conversion events – as narrated – are not the eventual sprouting of a seed

long planted and watered, nor the empathetic soothing of a deep existential terror.30 Rather, they

are the definition of a people, a self, as ‘Christian’ against a ‘Pagan’ other. In light of Martin

Heinzelmann’s reading of Gregory of Tours’ Histories as biblically correlated and in fact

instructive, this makes perfect sense. Gregory no doubt saw the conversion of Clovis as a

personal experience of grave importance. But although he authored many works concerning

religious individuals, his, “…ideas on the ‘Church’ are interchangeable with the concept of the

‘Christian Society.’31 Seen from this perspective, both the mapping of Clovis’ conversion onto

that of his society as well as the mass ‘othering’ of non-Christians follow naturally.

30 Matt,13 (parable of the sower) Karl Morrison, Understanding Conversion (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1992), 36-37; Morrison discusses the parable of the sower as an important means through which one might better conceive of medieval mentalities of conversion. Namely, that the conversion experience was conceived of as externally effected (by God) while simultaneously being a personal, internal experience. You didn’t find God. Rather, God found you.

31 Martin Heinzelmann, Gregory of Tours: History and Society in the Sixth Century (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 176-179.

16

In fact, the subjugation of the Alamanni is part of a common theme in Gregory of Tours’

History of the Franks. Throughout the work, Gregory’s original Latin text refers to rival Pagan

barbarian peoples as noxiae gentes.32 As Phillip Wynn explains in “Wars and Warriors in

Gregory of Tours’ Histories I-IV”, “…Gregory’s noxiae gentes are the goyyim of the Old

Testament, foreign nations, foes of Israel and of God, sometimes allowed to survive as a

whetstone to sharpen Israel’s war-making skills, otherwise deserving of being displaced and

destroyed, but also the instrument of divine judgment, metaphorically translated into an

interpretation and perception of Gallic history.”33 For Gregory of Tours, the conversion of Clovis

and the Franks to Christianity in circa 496 CE created a purpose, a telos, for the Franks that

justified all precedent and subsequent military actions against non-Christian peoples as

ultimately contributing to the creation and protection of a Christian Frankish kingdom.

Therefore, we must add a final point to our rubric:

4) The newfound Christian faith of the victors justifies all past and future subjugation of the

heathen enemy as a defense of those who are ‘right’ against those who are ‘wrong’.

In sum, among other important distinctions, a key aspect of Gregory’s identification of

the noxiae gentes with the goyyim is the justification of the conquest of these peoples. In this

pursuit, the fact that the Franks had converted to Catholicism was to some degree a double-edged

sword. Importantly, the conversion allowed Gregory to write off many of the Franks’ victims as

heretics, pagans, and persecutors – somewhat recalling the vitriolic condemnations of the

32 The Latin adjective noxiae (from noxius, noxia, noxium) translates to harmful or criminal, while the noun gentes (from gens, gentis) translates to people or tribe.

33 Phillip Wynn, “Wars and Warriors in Gregory of Tours’ Histories I-IV” in Francia 28:1 (2001)., 2-3. Wynn expands on the thesis presented by Martin Heinzelmann in Gregory of Tours: History and Society in the Sixth Century (that Gregory structured his Histories to mirror biblical events) by showing that in addition to their biblical themes, the Histories directly comment on 6th century (contemporary to Gregory) events through a combination of biblical and historical allusion.

17

persecutors in Lactantius’ De Mortibus Persecutorum. However, the need for Gregory to justify

these conquests likely stemmed originally from his interest in portraying the Franks as a

‘civilized’ Christian people. As Wynn writes, “the characterization of these gentes as pagans and

heretics goes to their qualification as noxiae, which from Gregory’s usage elsewhere points to

the meaning ‘criminal’ or ‘guilty,’ often in a legal (the classical definition) or religious setting.”34

Thus, some of the Franks’ more problematic victims could be lumped into the category of noxiae

gentes, thereby wiping away any culpability on the part of the Franks.

Another significant aspect of Gregory’s narrative of Clovis’ conversion is Clovis’

identification of Christ with the victorious warrior. In “The Cross Goes North: From Late

Antiquity to Merovingian Times South and North of the Alps,” Volker Bierbrauer uses

archaeological evidence to trace large patterns in religious change throughout Europe. Bierbrauer

explains that in the 5th and 7th centuries, early Germanic Christians used concrete rather than

abstract symbols to represent their new faith. Specifically, the image of the victorious warrior

was imprinted on brooches as a symbol of Christ. Clearly a fusion of Germanic pagan and

Christian symbolism and belief that may have resulted from a lack of widespread literacy and/or

biblical exegesis, the identification of Christ with victory in battle is a theme in all of the

presently examined conversion narratives, beginning with that of Constantine.35 Wynn argues

that the character of the warrior in Gregory of Tours’ History – while certainly being of

questionable morality by comparison to the bishop’s treatment of saintly heroes – is modeled

after biblical figures such as Jeephthah, Joshua, and David. These viri fortes – powerful men –

have great martial prowess but also succeed through clear divine intervention. Such old-

testament figures are an ideal model for Gregory’s construction of Clovis’ character: While 34 Phillip Wynn, “Wars and Warriors in Gregory of Tours’ Histories I-IV” in Francia 28:1 (2001), 2. 35 Volker Bierbrauer, “The Cross Goes North: From Late Antiquity to Merovingian Times South and North

of the Alps” in The Cross Goes North: Processes of Conversion in Northern Europe, AD 300-1300, ed. Martin Carver (Suffolk: St Edmundsbury Press, 2003), 441-442.

18

Clovis’ pre-conversion life is obviously problematic, especially for a bishop looking back nearly

100 years later, the security of his newfound faith can be exemplified by his victory through

divine intervention. In light of this, one might imagine that Gregory saw Clovis as more of a

champion or ally of the Christian faith rather than its embodiment or exemplification.

Thus far we have discussed the first point of our rubric, being the threat to the ‘state’ by

an ‘other,’ and by necessity of association have satisfied discussion of the third and fourth –

association of the king’s subjects as Christian, defeat of the enemy through divine intervention,

and the justification of past and future conquests. However, the discussion of exhortation

towards Christian faith remains. Key to Gregory’s account of Clovis’ conversion is the role

played by Chlothild, Queen of the Franks. The Burgundian princess is credited in The History

not only with insisting that her children be baptized, but also with persuading Clovis to

reconsider his faith after applying patient and consistent pressure.36 Indeed, if we look again at

Gregory’s above-quoted narrative of Clovis’ conversion, we see Chlothild mentioned by name as

the source of Clovis’ knowledge as to the nature of Christ and the Christian faith. Gregory’s

attribution of repetitive action and patience to Chlothild is reminiscent of (and likely alludes to,

although I do not claim the authority to say so,) the Parable of the Sower. Morrison maintains

that the biblical metaphors for conversion, “…are not metaphors of sudden change.”37

Accordingly, Gregory makes a clear point of Chlothild’s perseverance.

Having finished an examination of the key points of Gregory’s conversion narrative and

their functions, it is now necessary to chip away even further at the bishop’s narrative as we

search for the factors that shaped his narrative. One serious problem remains with Gregory’s

narrative: the question of Clovis’ pre-conversion faith. Based on an uninquisitive reading of

36 Gregory of Tours, “Histories” in From Roman to Merovingian Gaul: A Reader, Alexander Callander Murray, ed. & trans. (Orchard Park: Broadview, 2000), 272-274.

37 Karl Morrison, Understanding Conversion (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1992), 36-39.

19

Gregory of Tours’ account, one might conclude that during his early life and the beginning of his

kingship, Clovis worshipped the pantheon of old Roman gods. Evidence of this narrative can be

found in Gregory’s discussion of Clovis’ consolidation of power following the death of his

father, Childeric. In this passage, Gregory explains that, “…in this period, many churches were

plundered by the army of Clovis, because he was still enveloped in the errors of paganism.” 38

Such a narrative is further reinforced by Gregory’s report of Chlothild’s condemnation of Clovis’

idolatry, in which she accuses him of worshipping pieces of wood and stone, gods that bear the

names of men, and that exhibit distinctly human behavior (specific incidents involving Saturn

and Jove are offered as proof of the final point).39 While Gregory uses Chlothild’s speech to

unequivocally identify Clovis’ pre-conversion faith as paganism, this version of events is

contradicted by sources contemporary to Clovis’ actual conversion.

It is important to note that while we may speculate, it would be unreasonable to state with

absolute certainty the nature of Clovis’ pre-conversion faith. In The Conversion of Europe,

Richard Fetcher concludes that despite the paucity of helpful sources it is likely that Clovis’

father, Childeric, worshipped some collection of Germanic gods along with a form of ancestor-

worship. Furthermore, Fletcher reminds us that Gregory wrote of Clovis’ conversion an entire

century after the fact, and therefore could have been ignorant of or unconcerned with the

distinction between Germanic and Roman paganism.40 However, Gregory certainly would have

been concerned with the distinction between paganism and heresy. As discussed above,

unorthodox versions of Christianity such as Arianism posed a greater threat to Catholicism than

pagan beliefs because they represented a more credible voice of dissent – a voice from within the

38 Gregory of Tours, “Histories” in From Roman to Merovingian Gaul: A Reader, Alexander Callander Murray, ed. & trans. (Orchard Park: Broadview, 2000), 271.

39 Ibid.,273. 40 Richard Fetcher, The Conversion of Europe: From Paganism to Christianity 371-1386 (London:

HarperCollins, 1997), 102-103.

20

Church, rather than from an ‘other’. Therefore, in his efforts to glorify a Catholic Frankish

kingdom and to present the entire history of the Franks as having occurred in order to facilitate

the creation of such a kingdom, Gregory might have gone to great lengths to obscure the

heretical past of the kingdom’s first Christian ruler.

A single surviving letter, written from Bishop Avitus of Vienne to Clovis, suggests that

the Frankish king held heretical rather than pagan beliefs prior to his conversion. Avitus’ letter to

Clovis begins by vaguely stating that, “The followers of all kinds of sects have cast the shadow

of the name Christian over your keen intelligence with their views, diverse in their conjecture,

various in their great number, and empty as far as truth is concerned.”41 Within the context of 5th

century Francia, a ‘sect’ that ‘cast the shadow of the name Christian’ but was ‘empty as far as

truth is concerned’ seems likely to have been the Arian heresy. Fletcher notes that a second

letter, penned to Clovis at the onset of his kingship (prior to the conversion event) by Bishop

Remigius of Rheims, conspicuously lacks any mention of the young king’s supposed pagan

beliefs.42 Thus it is possible to imagine that while Catholic bishops were accustomed to

condemning pagan faith, the Arian heresy was problematic enough that the subject was

sometimes avoided or simply ignored. Clovis’ pre-conversion faith notwithstanding, his

conversion to Catholicism seems to have occurred early enough to have prevented any

doctrinally-fueled political controversy. If Gregory did purposely obscure Clovis’ heretical

beliefs, we can be confident that he would have done so in defense of the teleological narrative

of the rise of a Catholic Frankish kingdom, regardless of any specific political tensions that may

have existed during Clovis’ lifetime.

41 “Letter of Bishop Avitus of Vienne to Clovis Regarding the King’s Baptism” in From Roman to Merovingian Gaul: A Reader Alexander Callander Murray, ed. & trans. (Orchard Park: Broadview, 2000), 261.

42 Richard Fetcher, The Conversion of Europe: From Paganism to Christianity 371-1386 (London: HarperCollins, 1997), 105.

21

Writing as a politically motivated bishop in late 6 th century Francia, Gregory of Tours

imbued his narrative of Clovis’ conversion with references to the Constantinian conversion as

well as the Old Testament. Through these allusions Gregory granted political and religious

authority to the Francia of his own day through association with the Empire and its first Christian

ruler, while also providing foils for ideal (and less than so) kingship.43 Notably, Gregory openly

referred to Clovis as a ‘new Constantine.’ In addition to generally legitimizing the new Catholic

Frankish kingdom, Gregory’s narrative of Clovis’ conversion explicitly shows how the Franks’

newfound faith was seen to have altered their military, social, and political status. In battle, the

Franks could expect to be aided (or at least terrify their enemies with the thought that they might

be aided) by Christ the victory-bringer. Having officially followed their monarch into the fold of

the Catholic faith, all of the Frankish people were ostensibly Catholic and thus more closely

linked with each other as well as to the largely Catholic Gallo-Romans who constituted the

majority of the population of Francia. Finally, as Wynn argues, the fact that the Franks had

converted to Catholicism allowed Gregory to link them to the Israelites of the Old Testament and

thereby justify their wars against noxiae gentes such as the Alamanni by allusion to the

Israelites’ divinely sanctioned beatings and killings of the goyyim. In a more general sense,

Gregory portrayed the Franks as being justified by their role as defenders of a Catholic (or

Catholic-to-be) kingdom in their wars against the heretical or pagan other. Writing near

contemporaneously, the chroniclers of the Visigothic conversion displayed themes in their

narratives that closely, albeit under similar yet unique circumstances, mirror those found in the

writings of Gregory of Tours.

John of Biclaro, Isidore of Seville & The Visigothic Conversion Narratives

43 Phillip Wynn, “Wars and Warriors in Gregory of Tours’ Histories I-IV” in Francia 28:1 (2001), 1-2. Wynn

22

The Visigoths consolidated their kingdom in Iberia in the early 6 th century after being

badly defeated by the Franks at Vouillé in 507.44 Leovigild, one of the most successful kings of

the Visigoths (although this perception may be due to our disproportionately large amount of

knowledge about him), was also a great persecutor of Catholics in Iberia.45 Leovigild’s conquests

and persecutions cast a strange shadow over his son Reccared, the subject of John of Biclaro and

Isidore of Seville’s conversion narratives. On one hand, he was celebrated as a great victorious

warrior and a protector of Visigothic power in Iberia. On the other, he was reviled as a

persecutor of Catholics and the last Visigothic king to hold heretical faith.

Both of the Iberian Chroniclers provide much less verbose conversion narratives than

their Frankish contemporary. This is a result of their adherence to the structure of the universal

narrative begun by Eusebius’ Chronicle.46 Although this certainly presents a limitation

(especially as compared to the History of Gregory of Tours) on close reading, there remains

sufficient material for analysis. Perhaps the most notable difference from the conversion

narrative of Gregory of Tours that is shared by both John of Biclaro and Isidore of Seville’s

accounts is the temporal relationship between the narrators of conversion and their subjects. The

Visigothic chroniclers were both contemporaries of their subject whereas the Frankish chronicler

recorded his conversion narrative nearly a century after the fact. This closeness to the conversion

event may have created limitations on authorial license. Compared to Gregory, John and Isidore

had even less opportunity to turn the subjects of their narratives into moralizing characters.

Although John of Biclaro and Isidore of Seville were contemporaries, John of Biclaro

was the elder of the two. John’s Chronicle was written in 590 whereas Isidore’s History was not

44 Roger Collins, Visigothic Spain: 409-711 (Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2004), 38-40. 45 Ibid., 50-60. 46 Kenneth Baxter Wolf, Conquerors and Chroniclers of Early Medieval Spain (Liverpool: Liverpool

University Press, 1999), 11.

23

finished until 625.47 John of Biclaro was the first chronicler to record the conversion of the

Goths. A Catholic Goth from Lusitania, John of Biclaro began his Chronicle after returning from

seventeen years of study in the city of Constantinople. The goal of the Chronicle was to continue

the contiguous history authored by, among others, Eusebius, a contemporary of Emperor

Constantine.48 As stated in the opening of John of Biclaro’s Chronicle, “Bishop Eusebius…the

priest Jerome…Prosper, that most religious man, and Bishop Victor…have woven together the

history of practically all peoples...”49

Due to their similarity as well as they ways in which they build on each other, I have

located John and Isidore’s narratives closely in order to facilitate reference back to their

comparison later in the text. John’s narrative of Reccared’s conversion is as follows:

In the first year of his reign, in the tenth month, Reccared became a Catholic, with the help of God. He then approached the priests of the Arian sect with words of wisdom and converted them to the Catholic faith through reason rather than force. He thus restored all the people of the Goths and the Suevi to the unity and peace of the Christian church. The Arian sects came over, by means of divine grace, to Christian doctrine.50

Isidore of Seville saw his role as similar to that of John of Biclaro. However, in addition to

contributing more recent events to the chronicle, Isidore also summarized the entire previous

body of work (being that of the universal chronicle begun by Eusebius), beginning with the

Goths’ supposed biblical origins.51 Because he was a younger contemporary of John and very

probably had access to his writings while composing those of his own, Isidore’s narrative

provides an interesting point of comparison to that of John. Important subjects for comparison

47 Kenneth Baxter Wolf, Conquerors and Chroniclers of Early Medieval Spain (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1999), xvi.

48 Ibid., 1-2.49 John of Biclaro, “Chronicle” in Conquerors and Chroniclers of Early Medieval Spain, Kenneth Baxter

Wolf, ed. & trans. (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1999), 57. 50 Ibid., 73. 51 Isidore of Seville, “History of the Kings of the Goths” in Conquerors and Chroniclers of Early Medieval

Spain, Kenneth Baxter Wolf, ed. & trans. (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1999), 80-81.

24

are Leovigild, Arianism, and civil strife. Isidore’s narrative of Reccared’s conversion proceeds

thusly:

In the era 624 (586), in the third year of the emperor Maurice, after Leovigild had died, his son Reccared was crowned king. He was a devout man, very different from his father in his way of life for while the one was irreligious and had a very warlike disposition, the other was pious and outstanding in peace; while the one was increasing the dominion of the Gothic people through the arts of war, the other was gloriously elevating the same people by the victory of the faith. For in the very beginning of his reign, Reccared adopted the Catholic faith, recalling all the peoples of the entire Gothic nation to the observance of the correct faith and removing the ingrained stain of their error.52

At face value, neither of these conversion narratives appear to fit our rubric. In fact, this is more

an issue with the medium in which they are written than the result of differing authorial intent.

To be sure, it would be absurd to suggest that John and Isidore wrote their narratives of

Reccared’s conversion with motives identical to those of Gregory in his narration of the

conversion of Clovis. However, a closer examination of John of Biclaro’s Chronicle and Isidore

of Seville’s History of the Kings of the Goths reveals a very similar structure. In fact, Reccared’s

removal from a literal scene of battle at the time of his conversion makes him a less problematic

Christian-convert ruler than Clovis or even Constantine.

In the assessment of these Visigothic narratives, we shall again begin with the isolated

narratives before expanding outward to supplement them with further words from their authors

as well as outside sources. In both narratives Reccared, the leader, converts to Catholicism and

convinces his subjects (including the heretical clergy) to follow suit. Both also emphasize that by

doing so, Reccared unified all the people of the Visigothic kingdom and solidified their identity

as a Christian Visigothic kingdom. Finally, both narratives (Isidore’s being a much better

example of this) emphasize the ‘rightness’ of Catholic Christianity and the previous ‘wrongness’

of the converted Arian clergy. Conspicuously absent are 1) a clearly ‘othered’ enemy against

52 Ibid., 102.

25

which the conversion event brought victory by means of divine intervention and 2) clear

encouragement of the leader to embrace Christ as a bringer of victory. The following paragraphs

provide wider context through which the Visigothic conversion narratives can be compared to

the two previously discussed conversion narratives.

First at issue is a threat to the state from a clear ‘other’. In the Visigothic conversion

narratives, this role is filled by two separate others: First, the external threat of attack by the

Franks, who despite their Catholic faith are deserving of retribution after their frequent attacks

drove the Visigoths from Aquitania.53 Second, the internal threat of civil disunity posed by the

presence and great influence of the Arian heresy among the Visigothic aristocracy. John and

Isidore believed both threats to have been overcome by means of Reccared’s conversion and

subsequent divine intervention, albeit in very different manners.

In the works of John and Isidore, the Franks, Romans and Basques are the closest

analogues to Gregory’s noxiae gentes (notably the Alamanni) and the army of Maxentius. In

John’s Chronicle, an entry closely following that which describes Reccared’s conversion relates

how the Visigoths slaughtered a much larger force of attacking Franks. John commented on this

event that, “In this battle divine grace and the Catholic faith – which King Reccared along with

the Goths had faithfully taken up – were at work, since it is not a difficult thing for our God to

give victory to a few over the many.”54 Here we see a threat in the form of an army of ‘others’

53 Roger Collins, Visigothic Spain: 409-711 (Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2004), 36-37.; Similarly ‘othered,’ although not afforded as many words in the chronicles of John and Isidore are the Romans and the Basques. While these peoples were just as foreign to the Visigoths as were the Franks, they did not represent the same sort of existential threat. Whereas the Basques were not powerful enough to seriously endanger the Visigothic kingdom and the halved but still massive Roman Empire – with its capital at Constantinople – was too distant to consistently project power, The Franks were both powerful and close. In fact, the Visigoths had every reason to fear annihilation at the hands of the Franks: In 507, after settling in luxurious estates throughout Southern Gaul, the Visigoths were defeated in battle near Poitiers by a Frankish army under the command of our very own Clovis I. Southern Gaul was subsequently overrun by the Franks and Burgundians, while the Visigoths were forced onto the Iberian Peninsula.

54 John of Biclaro, “Chronicle” in Conquerors and Chroniclers of Early Medieval Spain, Kenneth Baxter Wolf, ed. & trans. (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1999), 74.

26

that is defeated immediately subsequent to the conversion of the leader (Reccared). Isidore’s

account of the same battle states that, “With the help of his newly received faith, Reccared

gloriously waged war against hostile peoples. With the Franks invading Gallia Narbonensis with

almost 60,000 soldiers, Reccared sent his general Claudius against them and won a glorious

victory…the remaining part of the army desperately turned in flight...”55 Isidore’s version of

events leaves no doubt that the reader is intended to understand that a threat to the state in the

form of a ‘hostile people’ was defeated ‘with the help of [the leader’s] newly received faith’.

Furthermore, the same entry (number 54) in Isidore’s History goes on to state that,

“Reccared often pitted his strength against the excesses of the Romans and the attacks of the

Basques. In these cases, he seemed not so much to be waging wars as to be exercising his people

to keep them fit as one would do in the sport of wrestling.”56 In this passage, Isidore directly

echoes Gregory’s use of the term noxia gentes in its meaning, both literally and by allusion to the

Old Testament. First, the term ‘hostile peoples’ as translated by Kenneth Baxter Wolf in the

previous paragraph is from the Latin infestas gentes.57 Infestus, meaning hostile or dangerous,

carries an almost identical meaning to noxius, albeit without the implication of guilt or revenge-

worthy behavior. Second, Isidore’s description at the end of the same entry of how Reccared

(through his generals) exercised his people by means of combat with the Romans and Basques so

perfectly mirrors Wynn’s explanation of how the, “…noxiae gentes are the goyyim of the Old

Testament, foreign nations…sometimes allowed to survive as a whetstone to sharpen Israel’s

war-making skills…”58 that we must at least suspect a similar allusion is being made.

55 Isidore of Seville, “History of the Kings of the Goths” in Conquerors and Chroniclers of Early Medieval Spain, Kenneth Baxter Wolf, ed. & trans. (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1999), 103.

56 Ibid., 103. 57 Isidorus Hispalensis, “Historia de regibus Gothorum, Vandalorum et Suevorum” ed. Jacques-Paul Migne

in corpus scriptorium Latinorum: a digital library of Latin literature, http://www.forumromanum.org/literature/ isidorus_hispalensis/historia.html. Accessed April 25, 2016., Section 54.

58 Phillip Wynn, “Wars and Warriors in Gregory of Tours’ Histories I-IV” in Francia 28:1 (2001), 2-3.

27

In the Visigothic kingdom, the tension between Arians and Catholics did not stem solely

from the conflicting doctrines. It was also a tension of class, and of race. According to some

estimates, the Western Roman Empire was conquered by a number of barbarians roughly equal

to five percent of its total population.59 While the Roman Empire was officially Catholic after the

Council of Nicaea in 325 CE, the majority of the barbarian invaders – including the Visigoths –

had converted to Arianism during their great migration.60 Thus, the Visigothic kingdom in Iberia

was ruled by Arian Goths and predominantly populated by Catholic Hispano-Romans. There

were separate clergies for Catholicism and Arianism.61 Under these circumstances it is clear that

one of the greatest threats to the Visigothic kingdom was from within. Arianism was the other

within the self: the heretical minority faith of the kingdom’s rulers.

Arianism, the second ‘other’ that threatened the Visigothic kingdom in the 6th century,

was just as problematic for John and Isidore as it was for Gregory. However, whereas Gregory

was able to quietly sweep doubts as to the nature of Clovis’ pre-conversion faith under the

metaphorical carpet of national myth, the Visigothic chroniclers were afforded no such luxury.

Clovis’ conversion had put an end to any potential for Arian legitimacy in Francia by the dawn

of the 6th Century CE, but the malaise of doctrinal dispute clouded the Iberian Peninsula for

another 86 years. When viewing this situation through the lens of John and Isidore’s chronicles,

it is important to remember the facts of the authors’ lives. Both men were Catholic clergymen,

writing from a post-Arian Visigothic kingdom.62 As discussed previously, the chronicle as a

medium lent itself nicely to a teleological view of history. For John and Isidore, the pre-

conversion Visigothic monarchs could simultaneously be seen as the other and the self. Insofar 59 J.N. Hillgarth, Christianity and Paganism, 350-750: The Conversion of Western Europe (Philadelphia:

University of Pennsylvania Press, 1986), 72. 60 Ibid., 72-73. 61 Roger Collins, Visigothic Spain: 409-711 (Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2004), 64-67. 62 Kenneth Baxter Wolf, Conquerors and Chroniclers of Early Medieval Spain (Liverpool: Liverpool

University Press, 1999), 1 & 11.

28

as heretical kings such as Leovigild were enemies of the Catholic faith, they could be looked

back on as others that threatened the future Catholic Visigothic kingdom. However, the

conquests of these heretical kings, especially Leovigild, were also seen as having been carried

out by future-Catholics, or at least in support of the future Catholic Visigothic kingdom. Wolf

argues that by associating Leovigild’s aggression with his heretical faith, Isidore was able to

avoid directly criticizing the recent king’s Arianism while portraying his military conquests as a

service to the Catholic kingdom of his son Reccared.63

By associating Leovigild with the victorious warrior and the biblical model of the viri

fortes, John and Isidore were able to simultaneously de-problematize Leovigild’s heretical faith

and free Reccared to be portrayed as a Constantinian champion of the faith rather than the sword.

In description of the Third Council of Toledo, which John likens to the Council of Nicaea in that

it condemned the doctrine of Arianism, John states that, “Reccared was, as we have said, present

at the holy council, reviving in our own times the image of the ruler Constantine the Great…” 64

While the aspect of the Constantinian model of conversion that we have focused on in this study

is the appeal to divine favor on the battlefield, it is important to remember Constantine’s role as a

champion of Christianity in times of peace. Notably, this includes his instigation and facilitation

of the Council of Nicaea.65 By comparing Reccared to Constantine, John was highlighting

Reccared’s unification and patronage of the Church.

63 Ibid., 21-23. As discussed above, Clovis’ violent acts and conquests made him a somewhat problematic Christian king even after his conversion to Catholicism. I therefore suggest that he was seen as at least partially analogous to the viri fortes of the Old Testament. In the case of Leovigild, this is especially true. Although his morality would have been indefensible on account of his heretical faith, Leovigild’s military contributions to the Catholic Visigothic kingdom were undeniable.

64 John of Biclaro, “Chronicle” in Conquerors and Chroniclers of Early Medieval Spain, Kenneth Baxter Wolf, ed. & trans. (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1999), 75.

65 R. P. C. Hanson, The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God: The Arian Controversy 318-281 AD (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993), 152-160.; Phillip Wynn, Augustine on War & Military Service (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2013)., 53-57.

29

By comparison to Gregory of Tours, the narrators of the Visigothic conversion were

faced with a more delicate task. Key to their chronicles was a balance between praise for the past

conquests of the kingdom’s monarchs and condemnation of those men’s heretical faith. In

striking this balance, both chroniclers referenced the Constantinian Conversion and Old

Testament ideas on just conquests. Through these comparisons, John and Isidore granted

authority to their newly Catholic kingdom through association with the Empire while also

justifying the conquests of past heretical leaders as defenses of a future Catholic kingdom against

‘hostile peoples.’ Having won divine favor, the Visigoths were portrayed as experiencing

increased efficacy in battle against their enemies. Finally, the conversion of the Arian aristocracy

and clergy was presented as a unification of the kingdom and a correction of past error.

Conclusion“He who has ears, let him hear.”

In grappling with the construction of these conversion narratives, Gregory, John, and

Isidore constructed propaganda – one might even say some form of proto-national myth – in a

style inspired by the propaganda of Emperors Constantine and Theodosius. In Francia, the

unification of the Catholic state against all non-Catholic others eventually gave way to the

Carolingian dynasty and Charlemagne’s de facto war against all ‘heathens.’ On the Iberian

30

Peninsula, the Visigothic kingdom was conquered by the Umayyad Caliphate, and became part

of a unified Muslim Al-Andalus (Iberia). Although the Arian faith had faded away, Catholicism

would quickly develop a new existential terror when faced with advent of a third Abrahamic

religion: Islam. As the kingdoms of Western Europe continued to sow the seeds of faith and

consolidate power under the auspices of the Christian God, their shared xenophobia facilitated

the birth of a new amalgamation of states in place of the old Western Empire: Christendom.

Justified in killing non-Catholics in defense of the Faith and justified in killing even Catholics in

defense of the Kingdom, these peoples were ‘destined’ for centuries of self-righteous killing –

perhaps the true ‘telos’ of Christendom.

The contrast between the writing style of Gregory of Tours and his Iberian

contemporaries is stark. Gregory wrote a long account of Frankish history that includes detailed

narratives of key events – such as the conversion of Clovis. John of Biclaro and Isidore of Seville

wrote terse, strictly chronicle-style accounts that only occasionally stray into paragraph-length

remarks. What links these early historians? Both the Frankish and Visigothic histories were

written with the clear intent of tracing a grand narrative back to biblical times. All three writers

were forced to address the moral and political conundrum of the conversion of their people. All

three chose to model their conversion narratives in a familiar Constantinian style. Present to a

degree in each of the accounts is the human subjectivity of the converted monarch. However,

even in Gregory’s History, this aspect is overshadowed by authorial intent that is clearly

political. In their accounts of the state-imposition of Catholicism following the monarch’s

conversion, both Gregory and John drew comparisons between their subjects’ unification and

patronage of the Catholic Church and that of the Roman Emperor Constantine. Each chronicler

spun a conversion narrative in which his people – would-be Catholics – faced an existential

31

threat. Each chronicler described how in the face of these threats, the leaders achieved victory

through intervention of the divine as a reward for their displays of faith and united their

kingdoms under a single faith. Finally, the conversion of the Frankish and Visigothic monarchs –

along with their subjects – allowed the Catholic chroniclers to construct a teleological narrative

that retroactively justified even some of the most ‘un-Catholic’ behaviors of the kings of their

past as the actions of future Catholics that ultimately contributed to the foundation of Catholic

kingdoms.

Works Cited

Primary Sources

Bishop Avitus. “Letter of Bishop Avitus of Vienne to Clovis Regarding the King’s Baptism.” From Roman to Merovingian Gaul: A Reader, edited and translated by Alexander Callander Murray, 261-3. Orchard Park: Broadview, 2000.

32

Bishop Remigius. “Letter of Bishop Remigius of Rheims to Clovis”. In From Roman to Merovingian Gaul: A Reader, edited and translated by Alexander Callander Murray, 260. Orchard Park: Broadview, 2000.

Bishop Remigius. “Letter of Bishop Remigius to Clovis on the Death of the King’s Sister” In From Roman to Merovingian Gaul: A Reader, edited and translated by Alexander Callander Murray, 263-4. Orchard Park: Broadview, 2000.

Gregory of Tours. “History”. In From Roman to Merovingian Gaul: A Reader, edited and translated by Alexander Callander Murray, 287-409. Orchard Park: Broadview, 2000.

Isidore of Seville. “History of the Kings of the Goths”. In Conquerors & Chroniclers of Early Medieval Spain, edited and translated by Kenneth Baxter Wolf, 81-110. Oxford: Alden Press, 1990.

John of Biclaro. “Chronicle”. In Conquerors & Chroniclers of Early Medieval Spain, edited and translated by Kenneth Baxter Wolf, 61-80. Oxford: Alden Press, 1990.

Lactantius. De Mortibus Persecutorum. Edited and Translated by J.L. Creed. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984.

Secondary Sources

Bierbrauer, Volker. “The Cross Goes North: From Late Antiquity to Merovingian Times South and North of the Alps”. In The Cross Goes North: Processes of Conversion in Northern Europe, AD 300-1300, edited by Martin Carver. 429-442. Suffolk: St Edmundsbury Press, 2003.

Collins, Roger. Visigothic Spain: 409-711. Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2004.

33

Fletcher, Richard A. The Conversion of Europe: From Paganism to Christianity 371-1386 AD. London: HarperCollins, 1997.

Hanson, R.P.C. The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God: The Arian Controversy 318-281 AD. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993.

Heinzelmann, Martin. Gregory of Tours: History and Society in the Sixth Century. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001.

Hen, Yitzhak. Culture & Religion in Merovingian Gaul, AD 481-751. New York: E. J. Brill, 1995.

Hillgarth, J.N. “Coins and Chronicles: Propaganda in Sixth-Century Spain and the Byzantine Background”. In Historia 15, 483-508. 1966.

Hillgarth, J.N. Christianity and Paganism, 350-750: The Conversion of Western Europe. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1986.

Murray, Alexander Callander. From Roman to Merovingian Gaul: A Reader. Orchard Park: Broadview, 2000.

Morrison, Karl. Understanding Conversion. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1992.

Shanzer, Danuta. “Dating the baptism of Clovis: the bishop of Vienne vs the bishop of Tours.” Early Medieval Europe 7, no. 1 (March 1998): 29-57. Accessed January 24, 2015, Academic Search Premier, EBSCOhost.

Wolf, Kenneth Baxter. Conquerors & Chroniclers of Early Medieval Spain. Oxford: Alden Press, 1990.

Wood, Jamie. The Politics of Identity in Visigothic Spain: Religion and Power in the Histories of Isidore of Seville. Leiden: Brill, 2012.

Wynn, Phillip. Augustine on War and Military Service. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2013.

Wynn, Phillip. “Wars and Warriors in Gregory of Tours’ Histories I-IV”. In Francia 28:1, 1-35. 2001.