The Peculiar Health Remedies Of Bishop Gregory Of Tours

Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), perhaps the greatest historian of the 6th century, came from a very religious family that was filled with generations of saints and bishops. Gregory, himself, continued the family tradition by becoming Bishop of Tours in 573 and by living a life that would eventually grant him the coveted label of saint. Much of what we know about Gregory comes from his own written word, as he often stuck bits of personal information here and there when his, or one of his family member’s, experiences were applicable to any given subject. By combining information from his various books, the reader can get a decent picture of Gregory’s life. One aspect of Gregory’s personal life, however, usually attracts more interest than the rest—the man liked bizarre pseudo-medical remedies.

As mentioned earlier, Gregory of Tours grew up in a very zealous family and he learned to venerate the remains of saints at an early age. Gregory claimed that his father, Senator Florentius, carried some holy ashes of a saint in a golden locket around his neck for good luck. The golden locket became a treasured heirloom that passed upon Florentius’ death to his wife, Armentaria, and then finally to their son, Gregory. In addition to the ash-filled locket, Gregory also received from his family an interest in medical remedies produced from ingredients found in the tombs of saints. Gregory’s exposure to odd healing potions evidently began when he was a young boy. According to the Eight Books of Miracles, Gregory was still a child when his older brother, Peter, fell deathly ill. The feverish Peter was brought by his family to the tomb of St. Julian, where everyone prayed for his quick recovery. Meer prayers, however, were apparently not powerful enough for the worried family—Gregory wrote that he was instructed by his parents and brother to gather dust from the tomb and mixed it with water. After Gregory’s sick brother drank the potion, he supposedly made a drastic recovery and felt much better within the day. The event must have had a great impact on Gregory, because he would personally use a similar potion later in his life.

In 573, around the time he became bishop of Tours, Gregory fell severely ill with dysentery. He wrote about the experience in his Eight Books of Miracles, elaborating that a high fever and a horrible stomachache were the main symptoms of his illness. Gregory initially let a physician treat him, but when the medicine seemed to not be working, Gregory decided to create his own cure. The ill bishop gave the physician and a deacon the recipe of his family’s potio de pulvere sepulchri (potion of tomb dust). Following their bishop’s orders, the physician and the deacon retrieved some dust from the tomb of Saint Martin, located in the city of Tours, and mixed it with water. According to Gregory, the dusty water eased his pain and led to his quick recovery.

Although the dust potion was Gregory’s favorite remedy, the bishop apparently had some success ingesting the tomb’s dust in other odd ways. In another incident, while suffering greatly from a swollen tongue and lip, Gregory claimed that he successfully healed himself by awkwardly dragging his swelled tongue across a wooden lattice in the tomb of St. Martin. To each their own, I suppose.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (European depiction of the Persian doctor Al-Razi, in Gerardus Cremonensis "Recueil des traités de médecine" c. 1250-1260, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971. 
• https://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/source/gregory-mirac.asp#gregmir  

The Gladiatorial Tale Of Aesius Proculus

Aesius Proculus, according to the Roman biographer Suetonius (c. 70-130+), was a handsome man of giant stature who lived during the reign of Caligula (r. 37-41). He came from a prominent military family that was on the verge of entering the equestrian order, which was one step below the senatorial class. Aesius Proculus apparently was a very popular man in Rome, and the masses often called him by the flattering nickname of Colosseros. The title, a combination of colossus (giant) and Eros (god of love), reportedly was a perfect reflection of the man’s physical appearance.

Unfortunately for Aesius Proculus, all of the praise that was heaped on him evidently inspired great feelings of hate and jealousy in Emperor Caligula, who was described by Suetonius as being a spindly, balding and sickly man. As the story goes, Caligula’s unstable emotions toward Aesius reached a breaking point during a gladiatorial game—in the middle of the show, and without any stated cause or warning, Aesius Proculus was suddenly arrested and dragged down to the arena.

With Aesius in custody, Caligula decided to punish the man without delay. At the time of the arrest, there were apparently two gladiators fit to fight at the venue. One was a lightly-armored fighter, possibly a gladiator in the Thracian (short sword and short shield) or Retiarius (net and trident) fashion. The other warrior was more heavily armored, possibly a Samnite-or Myrmillo-styled gladiator. It was these two gladiators that Aesius Proculus met when he was thrown into the arena.

Caligula next announced that there was to be a tournament in which Aesius Proculus would fight one gladiator and, if he survived the bout, he would then immediately battle against the other warrior. Hopefully, Caligula gave the captive a weapon, but Suetonius made no mention of the emperor giving the man any weapons or armor. Nonetheless, the so-called Colosseros, with his giant stature, well-built physique and military background, was likely a competent fighter with or without a weapon.

For the first match, Aesius Proculus came face to face with the lightly armored gladiator. Suetonius merely stated that Aesius won the battle, but it can be assumed that it was a fairly dominant victory, for, after the bout, Aesius was still healthy enough to take the fight to the second gladiator. To Caligula’s dismay, Aesius Proculus defeated the heavily armored gladiator, too, winning the emperor’s tournament.

As a reward for the victory, Caligula spared Aesius Proculus’ life—at least for the time being—and even threw him a parade and presented him with a special outfit to wear. These presents, however, were not meant to bring pleasure, for the items of clothes that Caligula gave to Aesius were only rags, and his victory procession through the city was meant to be as shameful and humiliating as possible. Sadly, at the end of the grim parade, Caligula reportedly sentenced Aesius Proculus to a public execution, which was summarily enforced.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Selection of Gladiators from the Zliten mosaic, c. 200 CE, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Twelve Caesars by Suetonius, translated by Robert Graves and edited by James B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2007.
• https://www.ancient.eu/gladiator/  

Was Sobriety The Secret Power Behind The Most Talented Members Of The Julio-Claudian Dynasty?

The two most lauded members of the Julio-Claudian Dynasty have to be Julius Caesar (c. 100-44 BCE), the conqueror who brought his family to power, and Augustus (c. 63 BCE-14 CE), the cunning political genius who completed Caesar’s war effort and carved out a place for an emperor in the monarch-hating culture of the Romans. After Caesar and Augustus, the Julio-Claudian Dynasty continued to rule Rome until the year 68, when the assassination of Nero ended the dynasty.

The Roman biographer, Suetonius (c. 70-130+), wrote about the six members of the Julio-Claudian Dynasty in his work, The Twelve Caesars. Whereas most other ancient historians wrote about the wars and political maneuvers of the emperors, Suetonius filled most of his pages with personality evaluations, physical descriptions, and especially the behavior of his subjects in social settings. In particular, one of the topics Suetonius frequently chose to comment on was the eating and drinking habits of the people featured in his text. In scanning Suetonius’ commentary on the liquid intake of the Julio-Claudian dynasty, an interesting trait seemed to have separated Julius Caesar and Augustus from their more lackluster successors—sobriety.

As stated by the historian Tacitus (c. 56-117+), extravagant feasting had “reached fantastic heights during the century between Actium and the disturbances which brought Galba to the throne,” denoting the years between 31 BCE and 68 CE (The Annals of Imperial Rome, Book III). This extravagance in food and drink was much more prominent in the latter emperors of the Julio-Claudian dynasty. The final four emperors of the dynasty were all described by Suetonius as having been heavy drinkers. Nero (r. 54-68), whose assassination ended Julio-Claudian power, was described as an extravagant drinker, especially of wine (The Twelve Caesars, Nero, 51). Of Nero’s predecessor, Emperor Claudius (r. 41-54), Suetonius reported that ample stories existed about his “drunkenness and love of gambling,” spanning before and after he became the ruler of Rome (The Twelve Caesars, Divus Claudius, 5 and 33). Claudius was preceded by Caligula (r. 37-41), whose wild and luxurious appetites were of legendary proportions. Even the reclusive Emperor Tiberius (r. 14-37) was reportedly an incredibly heavy drinker. Of Tiberius, Suetonius wrote, “Even as a young officer, he was such a hard drinker that his name, Tiberius Claudius Nero, was displaced by the nickname ‘Biberius Caldius Mero,’” which was a drink-inspired play on words that possibly indicated that he liked to drink unmixed hot wine (The Twelve Caesars, Tiberius, 42).

The habits of Augustus and Julius Caesar, however, were very different than their successors. On Augustus, Suetonius wrote, “Augustus was also a habitually abstemious drinker…In later life his limit was a pint; if he ever exceeded this he would deliberately vomit” (The Twelve Caesars, Divus Augustus, 77).  As for the founder of the dynasty, Julius Caesar himself, Suetonius similarly described the dictator’s attitude toward food and drink as extremely reserved. The Twelve Caesar’s even contained a quote supposedly attributed to Caesar’s enemy, Cato the Younger, which read, “Caesar was the only sober man who ever tried to overturn the republic” (Divus Julius, 53).

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Roman feast painted by Roberto Bompiani  (1821–1908), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Twelve Caesars by Suetonius, translated by Robert Graves and edited by James B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2007. 
• The Annals of Imperial Rome by Tacitus, translated by Michael Grant. New York: Penguin Classics, 1996.  

A Refugee Spartan King Personally Tried To Inspire Alexandria To Rebel Against Ptolemy IV

King Cleomenes III (r. 235-222 BCE) was a powerful ruler of Sparta who tried to revive his country’s reputation as a military powerhouse in Greece. He increased his own personal influence by ruthlessly oppressing the checks against his power, such as the ephors, who usually shared power with the Spartan kings. In addition he initiated significant social and military reform. Socially, Cleomenes wanted to steer his kingdom back into the ways of their no-nonsense, strictly militant past. Militarily, he had adopted the innovations in warfare introduced by Macedonia, including the use of longer spears and improved infantry formations.

Sparta, with its revamped military and a competent king in command, quickly began to wreck havoc on its Peloponnese neighbors. Cleomones’ major rival in the region was the Achaean League, headed by a skilled commander named Aratus of Sicyon. Starting around 229 BCE, King Cleomenes led such a successful campaign against the Achaean League that Aratus of Sicyon took the drastic step of placing his people under the protection of Macedonia in 225 or 224 BCE. As Macedonian troops poured into the Peloponnese, Cleomenes III soon found that he could not pacify his newly conquered land and fight the invaders at the same time. The Macedonian king, Antigonus III, pressed the Spartans back all the way to their native region of Laconia and finally dealt Cleomenes’ army a fatal blow at the 222 BCE Battle of Sellasia. Following the disastrous defeat at Sellasia, Cleomenes III fled to Egypt and Macedonia occupied Sparta.

Ptolemy III, the king of Egypt, gave the fugitive Spartan ruler a warm welcome and allegedly promised to finance a future bid for Cleomenes III to reclaim Sparta. Yet, Ptolemy III died in 221 BCE. The next king of Egypt, Ptolemy IV, reportedly tried to invite Cleomenes III into his circle of advisors. Nevertheless, the powerful people in the Ptolemaic king’s inner circle considered Cleomenes to be a threat to their power and they eventually convinced Ptolemy IV to place the Spartan king under house arrest in Alexandria.

Cleomenes III, however, was not one to be restrained, and he had been eager to return home ever since he learned that the Macedonian king, Antigonus III, had died in 221 BCE. Nevertheless, the Ptolemaic government had little intention of releasing the Spartan king. When it became apparent to Cleomenes that he was truly a captive, he decided to break free.

In 219 BCE, Cleomenes III made his move. According to the account of the biographer, Plutarch (c. 50-120), the first step of Cleomenes’ plan was to confuse the sentries who guarded his house. To do this, Cleomenes called on the friends he had made in the time before being arrested to spread rumors around Alexandria that the Spartan prisoner was to be released. To supplement the rumors, Cleomenes also had cheerful gifts sent to his home, containing congratulations on his imminent release and also wine…lots of wine. The Spartan king graciously shared his wine with the guards around his house, and one day when the guards had indulged too much in the offered drink, a disguised Cleomenes and thirteen companions slipped away unnoticed into the streets of Alexandria.

At this point, Cleomenes’ ambition and arrogance apparently sealed his doom. Why sneak off to the docks and sail home to Sparta when he could capture Alexandria, the jewel of Ptolemaic Egypt. The latter option must have been more appealing to Cleomenes III, for instead of silently sneaking out of the city, the Spartan king and his companions reportedly decided to run like madmen through the streets of Alexandria while shouting for the locals to revolt and reclaim their freedom. The locals, however, wanted nothing to do with the rampaging Spartans and ducked inside their homes.

With the popular uprising plan foiled, Cleomenes decided to enact plan B—a prison riot. According to Plutarch, Cleomenes and his thirteen loyal companions charged for a citadel in Alexandria where prisoners were kept. They were apparently met en route to the fortification by the commander of the city guard, who was reportedly riding on a chariot through the streets. In the first major brawl of the prison-break, Cleomenes and his loyal followers pulled the commander of the guard from his chariot and slaughtered the whole patrol. After that successful skirmish, Cleomenes rushed over to the citadel, eager to free the army of prisoners locked inside. Upon his arrival, however, Cleomenes was quickly reminded that the citadel was a formidable fortress, and the wardens of the prison rudely thwarted the Spartan king’s plan by simply closing the gate.

After the failure of the popular uprising and the prison revolt, Cleomenes eventually accepted that he was defeated. In the end, the Spartan king and his thirteen companions allegedly committed suicide before the full force of the city garrison arrived. When Ptolemy IV heard of this chaotic event, he did not react well. According to Plutarch, the body of Cleomenes III was suspended in a leather bag and the Spartan king’s children, mother and acquaintances were executed.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Image of a Greek terracotta Storage Jar with Two Warriors. Object Number 86.AE.78, c. 500-480 BCE, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• On Sparta (Life of Cleomenes), excerpted from Plutarch's Parallel Lives, translated by Richard J. A. Talbert. New York: Penguin Classics, 2005.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Ptolemy-IV-Philopator 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Ptolemy-III-Euergetes 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Cleomenes-III 
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Achaean-League  

The Nudist Adamite Christian Sect

In the history of Christianity, at several religious communities have been labeled as Adamites because of their adoption of nudism as a way to imitate the innocence of the biblical Adam and Eve. One group of these Adamite communities was written about by Saint Augustine (c. 354-450), but this ancient group, like other fringe sects of the day, was suffocated by the growing power and influence of the Roman Church. Around a millennia later, however, another group of Adamites was born that shared many of the same qualities as their ancient predecessors.

In 1415, a critic of the Catholic Church and a supporter of church reform named Jan Hus was burned at the stake for his beliefs. Instead of extinguishing his ideas, the execution of Jan Hus riled up a massive Hussite movement in the Czech-populated regions. The Hussites, however, were not homogenous in their beliefs and actions. At least three major factions (Taborites, Utraquists and Orebites) divided the Hussite population. The 15th-century Adamites were among these Hussites and, originally, could be found as a subgroup with the Taborites.

In 1421, the Adamite leader, Peter Kanis, was expelled from the Taborite community.  With a few hundred followers, Kanis left the Taborites and set up his own community. Like the ancient Adamites, Peter Kanis and his disciples allegedly shed their clothes, imitating the biblical Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. As almost all information about these 15th-century Adamites was recorded by their enemies, it is difficult to obtain a fair view of how Peter Kanis and his followers behaved. Nonetheless, as their critics told it, the Adamites were not only nudists, but debauched fiends engaged in irreligious orgies. Rumor and libel, however, always runs rampant between groups that do not understand each other.

Whatever the truth may have been, the Taborites despised the Adamites. In less than a year after Peter Kanis and his followers had departed to found their own community, the Taborites launched a devastating attack on the Adamites, resulting in the most influential members of the movement being captured and executed by burning. Although some Adamites could still be found roaming the Czech lands after the Taborite attack, the loss of Peter Kanis and other leaders caused the movement to eventually fizzle out.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Print against Adamites, produced c. 1535, [Public Domain] via picryl.com and Creative Commons).

Sources:

• http://www.medievalists.net/2014/08/adamites-hippy-heretics-middle-ages/
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Jan-Hus 
• http://www.angelfire.com/weird2/obscure2/adam.html 
• http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/01135b.htm  

The Oracles Of Dodona

Herodotus (c. 490-425/420 BCE), the father of Greek history, claimed that Dodona in Epirus held the honor of being the most ancient oracle site in the Greek world. The earliest written information on Dodona came from the epic poet, Homer. In the Iliad (book sixteen), Achilles proclaimed in an informative speech that Zeus was the god of Dodona and that his priests there slept on the ground with perpetually unwashed feet. Homer elaborated on the topic in the Odyssey (book fourteen), where Odysseus spoke of a sacred oak tree in Dodona from which the will of Zeus could be determined. Herodotus, writing in the 5th century BCE, claimed to have personally visited Dodona and confirmed that there was a sacred oak in the region. Besides affirming the importance of the sacred tree, Herodotus provided additional information on the origin and organizational structure of the oracle of Dodona.

Herodotus presented three origin stories for the oracle of Dodona in his text, The Histories. The first tale he claimed to have obtained during his travels in Egypt. According to the Egyptian version, two priestesses in Egyptian Thebes were captured by Phoenicians and sold as slaves in different regions. One was sent to the Siwa Oasis and the other ended up in Epirus, where both priestesses founded new temples that became sites for oracles of Zeus. The second version of the story came from Dodona, and was supposedly narrated to Herodotus by the three reigning prophetesses of the temple, whom he named as Promeneia, Timarete and Nicandra. Their story also began in Egyptian Thebes, but instead of enslaved priestesses, it was two black doves that flew respectively to Siwa and Epirus. When these doves reached their destinations, the birds allegedly gained the power to speak and instructed the locals to build temples to Zeus. After recounting these tales, Herodotus, himself, proposed a third version—a hybrid between the two. He theorized that the black doves mentioned in Dodona were symbols for the captured priestesses of the Egyptian story and that the miracle of the dove speaking was analogous to the priestesses learning vernacular languages used in Siwa and Epirus.

Whatever the truth may have been about the site’s origin, Dodona was undoubtedly an important religious center with very ancient roots. There was activity in the region before or during the final centuries of the second millennium BCE, around the time of the Mycenaean Civilization in Greece. The religious cult in Dodona seemed to have originally worshiped an earth deity, but the site eventually became associated with Zeus and the titan goddess, Dione. By the time of Herodotus, the temple at Dodona was inhabited by a team of three prophetic women, who were fittingly known as the Doves. Over the years, the way the Doves divined the future seemed to change, yet it usually depended on a sacred oak tree or birds. In some stories, the oracles received their message by listening to avian chirps. In other accounts, they divined the future by interpreting the sounds of wind, or even falling acorns, hitting against a bronze surface, which was sometimes a gong and at other times a cauldron. The most popular form of divination, however, was apparently to perceive the future based on the rustling of leaves from the sacred oak.

Although Dodona was surpassed by Delphi in terms of popularity and importance, the Doves continued to interpret the gods’ will for pilgrims until the 4th century CE. The end for the temple at Dodona is believed to have come during the reign of Emperor Theodosius (r. 379-395), who formally adopted the Nicaean Creed version of Christianity as the faith of the Roman Empire, outlawing paganism and other interpretations of Christianity.

Picture Attribution: (The Oracle, by Camillo Miola (Biacca), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Histories by Herodotus, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt and revised by John Marincola. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002.
• The Iliad by Homer, translated by E. V. Rieu and edited by Peter Jones. New York: Penguin Classics, 2014. 
• The Odyssey by Homer, translated by E. V. Rieu and edited by D. C. H. Rieu. New York: Penguin Classics, 2009. 
• http://www.theoi.com/Titan/TitanisDione.html 
• https://www.ancient.eu/Dodona/ 
• https://www.ancient-greece.org/history/dodona.html 
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Dodona  

Emperor Claudius’ Giggly Debut As A Historian

Despite being portrayed unglamorously by ancient Roman historians as a stumbling, bumbling, stammering, drooling, and nervously-ticking idiot, Emperor Claudius (r. 41-54) was likely one of the more scholarly emperors of Rome. The biographer, Suetonius (c. 70-130+), joined in describing the emperor unflatteringly, but he also hinted at there being another side to the man when he reported that Claudius was a multilingual author who published a forty-three-volume history of Rome, an eight-volume history of Carthage, a twenty-volume history on the Etruscans and an eight-volume autobiography. In addition to these major works, emperor Claudius also wrote a piece defending the late Roman orator, Cicero, and even published a book about the Roman alphabet. Suetonius further reported that Claudius’ Greek works were placed in a so-called Claudian Wing within the Library of Alexandria. Sadly, his many texts are lost except for small fragments.

Despite the speech and movement impediments that unfortunately caused the emperor to be ceaselessly teased and undervalued by the senatorial class and even his own family, Claudius reportedly decided to debut his Roman history with a public reading. If the event truly occurred as Suetonius claimed, then none of the Romans present at the reading would ever forget their experience.

As the story goes, Claudius was just beginning his public reading when a late arrival tried to sneak his way into the audience. The latecomer, however, was evidently a very, very obese man, so his wading through the crowd was in no way subtle. Nonetheless, the late person eventually reached a bench with available space and quickly lowered his weight onto the wooden seat. With the eyes of the audience, and Claudius too, curiously following the large fellow, the unfortunate latecomer broke the bench with his immense bulk, consequently sending himself and his bench neighbors tumbling to the ground. Lamentably for the heavy gentleman, the bizarre sight caused the attending audience to roar with uncontrollable laughter and, as Claudius was also known to be a man prone to laughing fits, he happily joined in with the mirth of the crowd.

After a while, the audience calmed down and their laughter subsided again to attentive silence. With everyone settled, the public reading resumed. Nevertheless, Claudius was apparently unable to banish the image of the seating tumult from his mind. Every time he attempted to begin narrating his history, he recalled the collapse of the bench and the flailing arms of surprised Romans. With such mental imagery bubbling up to the forefront of his mind, he found he could not finish a sentence before a giggle or a renewed bout of laughter interrupted his speech. Suetonius did not record if Claudius was able to finish that debut or if he gave up in the end. Whatever the case, Claudius eventually decided to hire professional orators to deliver public readings of his future written works.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Caractacus Pleading Before the Emperor Claudius in Rome, by Thomas Banks, 1774-1777, marble - Stowe House - Buckinghamshire, England. [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Twelve Caesars by Suetonius, translated by Robert Graves and edited by James B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2007.

Medieval Bishop Bricius And The Miraculous Talking Baby

Saint Bricius (or Brice) was a peculiar bishop who oversaw the bishopric of Tours from 397 to 444. His predecessor and mentor in Tours was Saint Martin (bishop, r. 371-397), yet Bricius was not an ideal understudy. While St. Martin lived, Bricius was allegedly a moody, skeptical, overly sarcastic and jealous man, especially toward his mentor. Even so, Bricius was ordained as a priest and, for whatever reason, St. Martin named him as heir to the bishopric of Tours.

Despite St. Martin’s faith in his successor, Bricius received only a lukewarm reception from the people he was meant to be shepherding. Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), a future bishop of the region, wrote about the chaotic relationship between Bricius and his congregation in his text, The History of the Franks. According to Gregory’s account, Bricius was eventually accused of being the father of a washwoman’s newborn boy. The people of Tours were so ill disposed against their bishop that they immediately believed the accuser and decided to stone Bricius to death. The bishop, however, gained permission to try and prove his innocence. To do this, he relied on the signature move of ancient saints—miracles.

According to Gregory of Tours, Bricius had the washwoman’s baby brought before him in view of all the townspeople. Summoning all of his clerical power, the bishop commanded the newborn, in the name of Jesus, to proclaim for the congregation whether or not Bricias was his father. If the local tradition of Tours is to be believed, the baby was indeed compelled to tell the truth and, even though he could not yet talk, the newborn eloquently exclaimed, “you are not my father” (History of the Franks, Book II). After stating this short sentence, the baby lost the power of speech and once more took on the characteristics of the average newborn baby.

The town’s dislike for Bricius, however, made them skeptical of the miraculous baby. Rather than take the baby’s words as proof of the bishop’s innocence, the people of Tours instead accused Bricius of using diabolical magic to make the child speak. Now that the bishop needed to clear himself of an additional charge, one that was more serious than the first, he decided to perform a second miracle. Once more, Bricius gathered the people of Tours to witness something spectacular. According to Gregory of Tours, the bishop now filled his cassock (clerical robe) with burning coals and walked with the fiery cinders pressed against his skin until he reached the nearby tomb of Saint Martin. Upon arriving at the tomb, Bricius poured out the coals from his clothing and triumphantly showed the people of Tours that there was not a burn to be found on his skin or a scorch to be seen on his robe. The bishop, however, was held in such little esteem that these miracles were dismissed as flukes and Bricius was exiled.

The exiled bishop fled to Rome and the people of Tours elected for themselves two successive bishops, named Justinian and Armentius. Bricius, however, was technically still the bishop, as Justinian and Armentius were considered illegitimate by the pope and also by Gregory of Tours. After the death of Armentius, the city of Tours finally accepted Bricius back into the community and let him resume his role as bishop until his death in 444.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Image about the life of St. Martin, painted by    Master of Jean Rolin II  (fl. from 1440 until 1465), [Public Domain] via Dutch National Library and Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
• https://catholicsaints.info/saint-brice-of-tours/  
• https://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=335