Marveling at the Man From Tours

Martin of Tours: Soldier, Bishop, Saint

by Régine Pernoud

Ignatius, 2006

199 pages, $14.95

To order: (800) 651-1531

Ignatius.com

The late Régine Pernoud (1909-1998) was something of a Hilaire Belloc in the field of medieval studies: She was a brilliant thinker who could explain complexities to the rank and file — which she did prolifically and engagingly.

Unlike Belloc, she was also a trained historian and well respected in the academic community. Pernoud is notable, too, for being a woman in a male-dominated field. She served as conservator of the Museum of Rheims, and later of the National Archives, before becoming director of the Joan of Arc Center at Orleans. Ignatius Press has helped bring renewed attention in the United States to her laudable scholarship.

Martin of Tours: Soldier, Bishop, and Saint is the latest of the now four books (the third for which an English translation has been commissioned) by Pernoud that the publishing house has put back into print.

Pernoud’s French nationality makes her a particularly fitting modern biographer for a saint whose cult has been popular in France since the early Middle Ages. She draws heavily on the biography written by Martin’s contemporary and friend, Sulpicius Severus. This text enables us to have a much fuller portrait of Martin than we usually have for people from late antiquity. Martin was born in the aftermath of the Edict of Milan, Constantine’s decree in 313 that provided toleration for Christianity within the Roman Empire. Though his parents were not Christian, young Martin was growing up in an environment that was very philo-Christian — as evidenced by his running away to a nearby church for two days when he was 10 years old.

Due to an imperial decree that all sons of veterans were required to join the Roman army, Martin enlisted as a teenager and probably served the typical 25-year requirement. It was during his time as a soldier that Martin converted to Christianity. Pernoud uses this event as a springboard to discuss the larger issue of early Christianity, pacifism and the Roman army. She notes how simplistic the modern perception of this topic typically is, explaining that Martin’s conversion did not require him to leave the army.

The Council of Arles in 314 specifically dealt with this issue, proclaiming that Christians did not have to resign from the military after their baptism. It was also during his time as a Roman soldier that the most famous episode of his life occurred: Martin cut his cape and gave half to a freezing beggar. “[Martin] could not have suspected the importance his action would acquire over the centuries,” writes Pernoud, “as it was depicted in so many frescoes, paintings, sculptures, and manuscript illuminations.”

The bulk of the book is spent examining Martin’s episcopal career. His election to the see of Tours in 370 was actually quite turbulent. He was very much the itinerant bishop, traveling around his diocese to inspire the faithful and convert the heathen. Pernoud highlights Martin’s zeal for destroying the various pagan idols he encountered, which still populated the region. In fact, Martin’s tenure as bishop of Tours serves as a valuable prism through which to view many of the issues confronting the Church during the fourth century.

While Martin of Tours: Soldier, Bishop, and Saint is ultimately a commendable biography, Pernoud’s use of Martin as means to engage and recreate the world of late antiquity and the Church’s intersection with it is probably the work’s greatest strength. Finally, Michael Miller should be praised for his fine translation — a marked improvement over the sometimes problematic translations of earlier Pernoud monographs. Here’s hoping he gets involved in future efforts to bring Régine Pernoud to an English-speaking audience in the 21st century.

Vincent Ryan is a

doctoral candidate in medieval history at Saint Louis University.