The Letter, the Law, and Divine Will: a Case of consensus in a Merovingian Passion

Our text is the Passio Praeiecti, its subject is Praeiectus, who became bishop of Clermont in 666 and was murdered in 676 near Volvic after a conflict about property.[1] The text itself was probably written soon after Praeiectus’ death.[2] It contains numerous episodes involving legal documents, letters and gifts. This contribution focuses on one such episode, where a letter-like document or epistola is used to nominate a new bishop. The document proves an effective instrument of communication and persuasion, though God ultimately favours another candidate.

Image: The Consecration of a Bishop, depicted in BL Royal 6E VI (‘Omne Bonum’), fol. 387v. Date: 1360-75. Copyright: British Library Collection

The story is told in chapters 12 and 13 of the Passio.[3] While the Bishop of Clermont, Felix, is still alive, five senior clergymen (abbates) of Clermont, amongst which is Praeiectus, draw up a letter (epistolam unanimiter condiderant) in which they agree that one of them, the archdeacon Garivald, should become the next bishop. Upon Felix’ death, however, Praeiectus recalls a vision experienced by his mother before his birth, revealing that her future son would be destined for greatness.  He invokes the vision to the city’s populace (universae plebe palam exponere), but is told that he will need vast wealth to obtain the episcopal office. Praeiectus, who hails from a modest background, counters that it is God who decides on such things.

When Garivald learns of Praeiectus’ canvassing among Clermont’s citizenry, he has the letter read out publicly in the city’s cathedral church (palam epistolam…coram omni ecclesia ostendit relegenda). Despite this move, the other clergymen who signed the letter change their minds and rally behind Praeiectus. Losing the support of the clergy, Garivald turns to bribing the laity with gold and silver. They overrule the clergy and raise Garivald to the episcopal dignity. His success is short-lived, as Garivald dies forty days later.

What can be said about the function of the letter is this episode? In what follows, I will highlight three elements: the letter as a legal device, its re-use in a public and performative setting, and the reasons for its ultimate failure.

First, the letter as a legal device. The use of the letter in this episode shows similarities to that of a charter. The text specifies that the letter is legally binding (legatura) with regard to Garivald’s rights. The letter is also said to have contained the signatures of the five clergymen (manu propria roboraverant). This confirms that in the Merovingian period the epistolary and the legal world were very much intertwined. Letters could have legal force. Charters like royal decrees had epistolary characteristics and could even be sent and used as letters.[4]

Considering its function in managing episcopal succession, the epistola in chapter 13 specifically evokes the so-called consensus-letter, as described  by Gregory of Tours and the Merovingian formularies.[5] This was an official letter drawn up by the citizens and clergy of a vacant see, in which they informed the king of their election of a new bishop and asked for his confirmation. The precise procedure could vary in the Merovingian kingdoms. Some candidates were appointed directly by the king, others were chosen by an episcopal synod. In the Passio Praeiecti, we see yet another variation: Clermont’s leading clergymen coming together in anticipation of an upcoming election, forming a consensus between the five of them, and putting their decision in a signed letter.

This brings us to our second point: the public presentation of the letter. When the consensus enshrined in the letter starts to be questioned by Praeiectus, Garivald proceeds with a logical next step, a public performance. He displays the letter to the entire congregation to be read out. The phrase used by the author, ostendit relegenda, mirrors the phrasing found in contemporary charters.[6] It also fits Merovingian norms of epistolary communication: high-profile letters often had a public and performative element.[7] Garivald harnessed these norms effectively. By having the epistola publicly read out, those listening became witnesses to the document, rendering it difficult to go against it. His choice of location was equally important. By selecting the cathedral church, he could be sure of a large audience, who would in turn help to circulate the message further. The cathedral church also had a direct bearing on the matter under discussion: it was the place where the bishop-elect would typically be consecrated.[8] All-in all, Garivald seems to have been doing everything right so far. He was backed by tradition – in Clermont, the archdeacon was first in line to become bishop –  he had the consent of the leading clergy, and he was able to put forward legal proof of this consent in the city’s central public building. Even so, his performance was only partially successful, because his fellow clergymen started to support Praeiectus anyway.

This brings us to the third and final question: why, and in what ways, did Garivald’s letter fail?  The answer combines several observations. For one, Garivald’s actions were not totally correct. The election of a new bishop was supposed to happen only after the death of his predecessor.[9] Garivald, by contrast, asked his fellow clergymen to draw up and sign the epistola when their bishop, Felix, was still alive. In this context, Praeiectus and the other leading clerics might have justified their change of heart by claiming that they were not supposed to agree on a successor at the time the document was drawn up. What Garivald was trying to frame as a breach of a legal document containing their signatures, they could have explained as turning away from an unlawful act. It would certainly explain the apparent lack of consequences for their breach of legal protocol.

The author of the Passio offers a different explanation, trying to convince the reader that Praeiectus was in fact the superior candidate. When the letter fails to achieve its goal, Garivald goes on to bribe the laity, the very thing Praeiectus had been unable and unwilling to do. Clermont’s citizens proceed to use violence (vi…oppresserunt) to overrule the clergy and have Garivald made bishop. Garivald thus obtains his desire, but loses all legitimacy. The point is driven home in the chapter’s final sentence: within forty days of becoming bishop, Garivald dies, leaving the see which he had usurped unworthily (quam usurpaverat indignus) vacant for a better candidate (petenti se meliori). Clearly, as the reader was to conclude, God disproved of Garivald’s candidature. He may have tried to work within a recognized legal framework and use the epistolary mores of his time to his advantage, but divine favour superseded legal procedure. And divine favour was with Praeiectus, who is shown to be elected bishop in the following chapter.

The Passio Praeiecti portrays the politics and communication of late Merovingian Clermont through the partisan lens of hagiography. On the surface, it shows how the letter could be used as a legal and persuasive instrument in the context of episcopal succession. The archdeacon Garivald tried to secure his appointment by having his potential rivals sign a consensus letter. When this was subsequently contested by one of the signatories, Garivald went public, having the letter read out in a place of authority, and relying on the audience to witness and confirm its legal validity.  While the letter and communicative procedure were valuable, they were, unfortunately for Garivald, not enough to secure the episcopal election outright. He had to resort to bribes to obtain the episcopal dignity. Here the Passio’s narrative agenda comes into play. Garivald’s tactics confirm his election had never been legitimate to begin with, because it went against divine prophecy. God did not approve of what happened and Garivald died shortly after. For Merovingian hagiographers, divine will was an essential ingredient of successful epistolary communication.

[1] Passio Praeiecti episcopis et martyris Avernis, ed. Bruno Krusch, MGH SS rer. Merov. 5 (Hanover, 1905), pp. 212–248; translated Paul Fouracre and Richard A. Gerberding, Late Merovingian France. History and Hagiography 640-720. (Manchester, 1994), pp. 251–300.

[2] See the 2015 Kalamazoo paper by Leland Grigori, ‘The Authors of the Passio Praeiecti (BHL 6915–6): A Quantitative Philological Approach’, who submits that the first part of the text, prior to Praeiectus’ election, and the last part of the text, following the death of Praeiectus, were later additions, though probably still Merovingian.

[3] Passio Praeiecti, cap. 12-13, pp. 232–233.

[4] Alexander Callender Murray, ‘The New MGH Edition of the Charters of the Merovingian Kings’,

The Journal of Medieval Latin 15 (2005), pp. 246-278; Ian Wood, The Merovingian Kingdoms 450-751 (London,1994), pp. 102-119.

[5] Robert Flierman, ‘Gregory of Tours and the Merovingian letter’, Journal of Medieval History 47 (2021), pp. 119-144, here 7; Steffen Patzold, ‘“Konsens” und “consensus” im Merowingerreich’, in Recht und Konsens im frühen Mittelalter, ed. Verena Epp and Christoph Meyer (Ostfildern, 2017), pp. 265-296, here 275.

[6] Fouracre and Gerberding, Late Merovingian France, p. 281.

[7] Flierman, ‘Gregory of Tours’, p. 131.

[8] Council of Orleans 541, ed. C de Clercq, Concilia Galliae, a. 511-a.695, CCSL 148A (Turnhout, 1963), cap. 5, p. 133.

[9] Susan Loftus, ‘Episcopal Elections’, in Episcopal Election in Late Antiquity, ed. Johan Leemans et al. (Berlin, 2011), pp. 423-436, here 427.