Little is known about the veneration of saints’ relics in Gaul prior to the last decade of
the 4th century, when it underwent a significant revival, at least partially in response to
the Germanic migrations. Although there was no direct connection between the Greco-
Roman cult of heroes and the Christian cult of saints, the shrines of Christian saints may
well have filled an important gap when pagan shrines devoted to curing deities, such as
Asclepius, were closed. Some of Gaul’s relics were imported from distant provinces,
such as those of varied Roman martyrs whose reception at Rouen in 396 was recorded by
Bishop Victricius in a panegyric. But many of the province’s most prominent saints were
its martyred bishops, such as Julian of Brioude, Trophimus of Arles, and, most important
of all, Martin of Tours. As Martin’s reputation grew over the course of the 5th century,
pilgrims flocked in increasing numbers to his tomb outside of Tours, where an important
new church was built over the shrine in the 460s.
The Gallo-Romans regarded their saints as one of their chief bulwarks against the
invading Germans. As they converted to Christianity, however, the Franks themselves
enthusiastically adopted the cult of relics. Clovis, for example, allegedly endowed the
church that housed the relics of Martin. The greatest chronicler of the cult of saints in the
early Frankish kingdom was Gregory of Tours (d. 594). In addition to the anecdotes
provided in his monumental Liber historiae Francorum, Gregory composed eight linked
collections of hagiographic tales (Life of the Fathers), in which he provided the
miraculous history of the holy men of his native Gaul. Gregory’s work confirms that the
veneration of relics had become central to the practice of Christianity, and one of his
goals was to endow the cults of local saints with trustworthy histories. The shrines of the
saints were special places: their walls were adorned with ornate hangings and murals
depicting scenes from the lives of the saints; candles and incense burned ceaselessly
before the shrine; pilgrims jostled one another for physical contact with the holy tomb.
One common practice was incubation, that is, sleeping on the grating that covered the
tomb. People came not only to be cured; they also swore oaths in an attempt to end feuds
or begged the saint’s aid at the Last Judgment. Gregory himself hoped that on that day
the angels would say of him, “This is a man on whose behalf St. Martin petitions.”
By the Carolingian period, as communities of monks and canons gained control of
most important shrines, these became central to the identity and to the economy of the
monastic houses. Legal documents specified Fleury, for example, as “the place where St.
Benedict rests.” When noble families donated lands to a monastery, the charters claimed
that the gift was made not to the monks, but to their patron saint. This was not a legal
fiction, for the patron saint of a monastery was the owner of its lands. The number of
pilgrims who came to monastic shrines could be large, particularly on the feast day of the
saint. Monks had to provide hospices and even elaborate, if meatless, feasts for their
guests. Most monastic churches, however, remained closed to women, and special
arrangements, such as the construction of wooden tribunes outside the cloister, had to be
made in order to allow female pilgrims access to reliquaries. Saints not only provided
cures and mediation to their friends, they also were thought capable of wreaking miracles
of chastisement on those who stole their property. Adrevald of Fleury, for example,
recorded how his fellow monks had brought the relics of St. Benedict to Count Odo of
Orléans in a vain attempt to stop him from plundering their lands. When Odo died in
battle, his demise was interpreted as the judgment of God.
Medieval france: an encyclopedia 1610