600 years after Christ, and more than a thousand years before William Wilberforce and Frederick Douglass, one of the wealthiest men in medieval Europe worked to free slaves on a grand scale. His name was Éloi in French, or Eligius in Latin.
I'm John Dixon and this is the fourth of our Undeception singles on the topic of slavery. We'll be back with a new season of full episodes next month. Eligius of Noyon in northern France is hardly known today, but in the 600s, in the so-called Dark Ages, he was one of the most beloved men in Europe. His fame was twofold: he made jewellery for kings and nobles, and he liberated slaves.
Eligius was trained as a master goldsmith and because of his skill he soon came to the attention of Clotar II, king of the Franks, the ruler of the greatest European kingdom for centuries. Clotar employed Eligius to oversee the crafting of all the royal precious metals and jewellery. It was quite a gig. It was a highly distinguished position and Eligius earned great wealth.
His biography was written by a contemporary and friend named Dardo, the Bishop of Rouen, from which we get these vivid descriptions of the way Eligius used to dress in his early years. Quote,
having belts composed of gold and gems, and elegantly jewelled purses, linens covered with red metal and golden sacks hemmed with gold and all of the most precious fabrics, including silk. At the same time, Eligius was extremely devout.
He would constantly have a religious text, quote, propped open before his eyes as he worked so that even while laboring, he might receive divine mandates. Well, one of those divine mandates shaped the rest of his life. Eligius was captivated by Christ's call to assist the downtrodden.
Jesus had given himself for the world and we are to do the same. That is the logic of life, according to Eligius. He soon took to gifting the gold and jewelry he wore. His sumptuous attire worked like a mobile bank or a traveling charity. Wherever he found people in distress, he plucked off gems and precious metals from his garments and gave them away.
He would leave on a business trip looking like royalty and return "wearing a hair shirt next to his flesh or the vilest clothing with a rope for a belt." His most striking act of charity, for which he earned renown throughout Europe, was purchasing and freeing slaves.
In 7th century Gaul, the remnant of the Roman slave system still existed, but so did the slave practices of the Goths and the Pagans. We sometimes forget that slavery was universal until modern times. Eligius couldn't bear to see another person in bondage. He had this work much at heart, says Dardoch.
Wherever he understood that slaves were to be sold, he hastened there with mercy and soon ransomed the captive. He didn't discriminate either. He liberated both sexes and from different generations, we're told. He freed all alike, Romans, Gauls, Britons and Moors, but particularly Saxons, who were as numerous as sheep at that time.
And if he ran out of cash because of the sheer number of people for sale, quote, he gave more by stripping what he had on his own body from his belt and cloak to the food he needed and even his shoes so long as he could help the captives.
He asked for nothing in return. If the freed slaves wanted to stay with him and his community, he found them accommodation and employment. If they wanted to return to their own lands, quote, "he would offer them what subsidy they required for the journey."
Eligius soon entered the Christian ministry and became a forceful preacher throughout France. In 641, he was even made the Bishop of Noyon in northern France, 60 miles north of Paris. But he never stopped feeding the poor and freeing slaves. He used his own personal wealth and redirected church funds for these projects.
He wasn't just what you would call a social justice advocate. He was also a zealous evangelist, eager to take the message of Christ into new regions, preaching and building new monasteries and churches. His biography tells us how the pagans in Flanders and Antwerp received him with hostile spirits and adverse minds.
We sometimes forget, I think, that Europe as a whole wasn't converted to Christianity for many centuries after this. But Eligius persisted. Our source adds, He gradually began to introduce the word of God among them by the grace of Christ, and eventually a great multitude left their idols and converted. Eligius' converts were taught to sing the same tune he did,
You would see many people hurry to repent, we're told, give up their wealth to the poor, free their slaves and many other works of good in obedience to his precepts. Understandably, Eligius' death in 660 was a major event. Even the Frankish queen, Bathilda of Asania, rushed to see his body. She kissed it and wept aloud in front of the vast crowd.
She even demanded that his body should be released to her and buried in her local monastery in Cherne. The uproar in Noyon was so great she acquiesced to the will of the locals. So the corpse, we're told, was brought to burial with all the city doing homage in tears.
It was a freezing and torrential winter's day, December 1st actually, but nothing stopped the crowds. Even the Queen refused a royal carriage and walked with the mourners to the grave. Eligius didn't overthrow slavery everywhere for good, as he certainly wanted to. But in his particular time and place, he had a massive impact.
It was a daring person who tried to engage in trafficking within earshot of his preaching throughout France in the 7th century. When I study the life and work of Eligius, my main question isn't why didn't Europeans do more to overthrow slavery? My question is, why am I doing so little in my time and place to rid the world of the millions trafficked and enslaved today? Music
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