Thread by @thinkingwest

So you want to know about warrior bishops...

In the middle ages, martial prowess and piety were esteemed above all else. The warrior bishop was the physical embodiment of the medieval ethos: a literal soldier for Christ, baptizing souls with water and blood. 🧵

As Christian and heathen worlds collided, religious differences and physical confrontation coincided – the warrior bishop was the bulwark against these converging threats.

This controversial fusion of clergyman and soldier often played a pivotal role on the battlefield.

Warrior bishops shaped the West’s understanding of piety, violence, and warfare, and became a symbol of Christendom's struggle against forces and ideologies that threatened its existence.

Let’s examine their development throughout the medieval period, from peaceful additions in Rome's legions to fully-armored generals leading armies into battle.

To understand how priests could be militarized in the first place, we need to understand how Christianity grew from an obscure Jewish cult to the most powerful institution in the Western world.

During the early days of the Church under the rule of the Roman Empire, Christianity was widely persecuted.

Despite this oppression, early Christians maintained a mostly pacifist philosophy.

Persecution and martyrdom were ever-present dangers, often borne with a "turn the other cheek" mentality in true Christ-like fashion. Having little political power, Christians were left to the whims of those with more earthly authority.

This power dynamic shifted, aptly, on a battlefield – Constantine’s vision before the Battle of Milvian Bridge in 312 A.D. signaled a momentous change in Christianity’s fate.

Not only would it be the impetus to change Christianity’s official status as a religion, the battle where Constantine commanded his men to paint a "Chi Rho" on their shields was a precursor to more direct Christian involvement on battlefields of the future.

Constantine would consequently be the first to introduce clergymen directly onto the front lines. Accompanied by symbols of the cross flying high over Roman legions, clerics joined soldiers during battle – not as fighters, but as symbolic additions meant to boost morale.

Though priests now joined troops during military campaigns, their role changed little from their peacetime brethren. Offering mass, hearing confession, and tending the sick were all standard duties of these wartime clerics.

Bishops weren’t seen exercising full military command until nearly a century later.

One of the first examples took place shortly after Easter in 429 when Germanus, bishop of Autissiodorum, assumed leadership of the Britons to defend against a Saxon raiding party.

The raiders had their sights set on on Mold, a small mountain village in northern Wales. Mounting a defense, Germanus hand-selected a group of soldiers, carried their banner, and led the force to a vale, hoping to ambush the invaders before they reached the village.

As the raiders approached, the freshly baptized Britons gave three shouts of “Alleluia!” Startled by the yells ringing throughout the low hills, the raiders assumed the sound could only have been made by a massive army, fleeing before any blood could be spilled

His fellow clerics were elated he had won the battle without bloodshed, calling it a “victory gained by faith and not by force.” Germanus would develop a reputation for his confrontational style. He became popular among the locals, and developed a cult following after death.

The Church was not as enthusiastic about the confrontational style that Germanus and bishops like him championed. St. Paul’s warning that “We wrestle not against flesh and blood" seemed to refute the necessity of clergy leading armies of soldiers.

That a cleric should be engaged in spiritual, not physical, combat was the prevailing viewpoint. Presented with this tension, the early Church wrestled with properly defining clergy’s role during wartime.

The first full-fledged clerical prohibition on military service appeared at the Council of Chalcedon in 451:

Later in 546, Canon I of the Council of Lérida specified that clergy were forbidden from spilling blood:

Despite these official restrictions, the days of finding a bishop at the head of an army had just begun; bishops continued to participate in military ventures over the next millennia, becoming trusted advisors, generals, and, in some cases like Germanus, military heroes.

Thus a new kind of leader had emerged from the vestiges of the dying western Roman Empire – a shepherd of Christ who not only led believers in spiritual matters, but also commanded armor-clad warriors to protect his flock from flesh-and-blood dangers.

Later on, in a period we might classify as the early middle ages, confrontation between followers of the "Old Gods" and Christians became common. In the late 8th century Charlemagne's wars of expansion were the center of Christian-Pagan conflict.

These wars, marked by the tragic massacre at Verden in 782 where the Franks slaughtered 4500 saxons in a single day, attest to the adversarial and often brutal nature of Christian-Pagan warfare.

It should be no surprise, then, that Charlemagne, a deeply pious and visionary leader, sought to inspire a religious zeal in his followers hoping to boost morale during his long campaigns.

He "encouraged interpretations of these campaigns in religious terms."

One way he accomplished this religious reframing was by recruiting clergy directly into his army; in fact he expected clergy to fight when called upon – the vaunted Frankish king had no qualms about meddling in ecclesiastical affairs and supported an integrated Church and state.

Some bishops justified the bloodshed on the grounds that Charlemagne’s foes posed a spiritual threat. The concept of milites Christi, “soldiers of Christ,” a term often applied to spiritual warfare, was taken literally to pressure clergymen into positions of martial leadership.

Charlemagne’s recruitment campaign coincided with an increasing amount of nobility among the clergy’s ranks , meaning they held obligations to fight for their lord when called upon. Charlemagne could then leverage these feudal obligations to bolster his armies with clergymen.

A century later, Charlemagne’s strategy was appropriated by the dynasty that inhabited once-Carolingian lands; following Charlemagne’s precedent set in the eighth and ninth centuries, the Holy Roman Empire’s Ottonian Dynasty accelerated the integration of Church and state.

Clergy’s land and loyalty increasingly belonged to Otto I and his successors in the 'Reichskirchensystem,' or “Imperial Church system.” This system sought to co-opt Church lands for state purposes, specifically those of the military.

One of the chief duties imposed on clerical institutions by the Reichskirchensystem was the 'Burgbann' – a decree that demanded monasteries maintain a series of vital fortifications throughout the empire

Bishoprics and military leadership thus became intertwined: the planning and execution needed to maintain these strongholds required continuous communication between the two. Naturally a consolidation occurred.

Though official teaching still prohibited bishops from military engagement, the Church’s increasing involvement in both the interpersonal aspect– “boots on the ground” – and logistical planning of warfare gradually warmed its disposition toward the concept of fighting prelates.

According to "Warrior Bishops: The Development of the Fighting Clergy under the Ottonians in the Tenth Century" by Jordan Becker, these fighting prelates were often viewed as champions:

Across the English channel clergy had been fighting alongside kings in major battles as early as the late-9th century. Bishop Heahmund of Sherborne is recorded as fighting for King Æthelred I of Wessex and his brother Alfred against the Danes.

According to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, he was slain at the Battle of Meretun n 871:

Another British conflict saw one of the most prominent warrior bishops of all time – Odo, half brother of William the Conqueror, and Bishop of Bayeux. Odo fought alongside Duke William in 1066 during the invasion of England.

Odo is shown on the Bayeux tapestry as wielding a club (or possibly mace) and sporting chain-mail armor during the pivotal Battle of Hastings. His martial responsibilities were secondary to his duties as a bishop – offering prayers for victory and providing moral support.

However Norman chronicler William of Portiers notes how Odo rallied wavering troops during a pivotal moment of the battle when it was believed the duke had been killed:

Promoted to Earl of Kent after the battle, Odo held vast swathes of English land; his personal wealth and proximity to William made him the second most powerful man in England.

Odo enjoyed the peculiar position of wielding great influence within both the ecclesiastical and secular realms. This duality is depicted on his official seal – on the left, a knight with sword in hand; on the right, a bishop in full vestments carrying a crosier.

A quick aside – given his aristocratic background and wealth, Odo had the means to afford whichever weapon he pleased, so the question arises as to why Odo chose a club over more conventional weapons like an ax or sword?

As noted earlier, clergy were prohibited from shedding blood in Canon I of the Council of Lérida. Some scholars speculate that Odo fought with a club because a bludgeoning weapon was less likely to shed blood than a bladed one.

Odo and other fighting clergymen may have taken a literal interpretation of the canon and used bludgeoning weapons in order to skirt the prohibition via technicality though, this is highly disputed.

The 'Walpurgis Fechtbuch,' a medieval German fencing manual, seems to dispel this idea, showing characters dressed like priests using swords in combat.

More likely the 'club' Odo wielded was actually a baton used to direct troop movements.

Speculation aside, Odo, Heahmund, and the bishops under Carolingian and Ottonian rule exhibit the developing convergence of Church and state in the early middle ages.

The next crucial era we will explore is the Crusades.

Given that it was the Bishop of Rome Urban II who began the First Crusade in legendary fashion when he proclaimed “Deus Vult!” (God wills it!) in 1095, it is fitting that clergy were instrumental in seeing it through.

Though Urban initiated the holy fervor that entangled Christian and Islamic worlds in centuries of warfare, the circumstances that forced Urban’s hand were not of his choosing. Christendom found itself sandwiched between Islamic territory in the east and the west.

The jewel of Christendom, Constantinople, was a stone’s throw from the rapidly advancing Seljuqs. Byzantine Emperor Alexius urged his western counterparts to his aid; he hoped his Latin allies would help repel the heathens that were now beating down his door.

Answer they did.

The crusading era would be defined by the holy wars that stained the sands of Outremer in crimson; it would also be defined by the clergy who took part in those wars.

None were more integral than Adhemar, bishop of Le Puy and one of the leaders of the First Crusade.

Greatly admired by other clergy, Adhemar was unanimously chosen from amongst their ranks when Urban sought advice as to who should lead. A contemporary described him as “like a second Moses,” reluctantly accepting “the generalship and direction of the people of the Lord.”

Adhemar was crucial to the crusader’s morale, particularly during the siege and subsequent defense of the city of Antioch. As the crusaders besieged the city he instituted religious rites, fasts, and observance of holy days.

Contemporary chronicler Guibert of Nogent recorded that “the legate let no Sunday or holiday go by without preaching and enjoining every cleric to do the same.

Unfortunately he was taken by illness while in Antioch and died in August 1098.

Visions of Adhemar became common amongst the remaining crusaders, often urging them to take Jerusalem. In one vision, he instructed the crusaders to fast and lead a procession around the walls of the holy city.

Not even death could prevent Adhemar from heartening the crusaders.

They obeyed his instructions and conquered the city less than a year after his death in 1099.

After Jerusalem was captured and a Christian kingdom forged in Outremer, clergy continued to influence military involvement in the region.

One Benedictine abbot, Bernard of Clairvaux, helped form the most famous military order of all time: 'The Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon,' commonly known as the Knights Templar.

A cast of warrior monks tasked with defending pilgrims on their journey to holy sites, the templars took the concept of 'milites christi' to a new level.

Less clergy than warrior, the knights were backed by the prominent abbot and future Saint Bernard, He assured these knights that if they died advancing Christ’s kingdom, they were not sinning because they were partaking in a spiritual war:

Bernard’s comments show an opinion not dissimilar to clergy at the time of Charlemagne – that the spiritual war sometimes spilled out into the realm of flesh and blood, therefore it was justified for clergy to use violence to protect their flocks.

Another clergymen, Arnauld Amalric, would become infamous for his involvement in the Cathar Crusade. I wrote a separate thread on it here:
buff.ly/4adnx8Y

In the late middle ages, crusading fervor dwindled, but bishops continued to play a role in military conflict. In 1346, the Battle of Neville’s Cross saw a total of 6 bishops involved in the fight.

A thoroughly Catholic-on-Catholic conflict, Neville's Bridge shows that bishops' involvement in war was not always confined strictly to inter-religious disputes and they sometimes battled with other Christians.

Which leads us to one of the most interesting characters of all...

A character who engaged in nearly unceasing battles against fellow Christians, historical juggernaut Julius II, the “Warrior Pope,” was perhaps the apex of the evolution of the warrior bishop.

Born Giuliano della Rovere, Julius was elected to the papacy in 1503 amidst the thick of the Italian Wars. As pope he embraced the back-and-forth political jostling of the various powers vying for the Italian peninsula and took an active role in the military affairs of Rome.

His main military aspiration was to regain former lands of the diminished Papal States. Though not the first warrior cleric to occupy the Chair of Peter, Julius left a legacy unmatched by those before him.

Few figures have surpassed the sheer gravitas of Julius II. A close friend of Michelangelo and an avid patron of the arts, the pope was characterized as "a man of culture with a warrior spirit."

An extremely violent temper meant he often lost self-control, and was said to be “rude and often even vulgar in manner.” Despite his abrasive mannerisms, he was resolute in his decision-making and “everywhere he saw and sought out greatness”

In addition to his epithet “the warrior pope" he was often referred to as the “terrible pope,” a name suggesting his awe-inspiring, yet frightening presence. He was a fanatic of vigorous, manly activity: horse riding, hunting, and most of all the “feel of armor.”

Not content with simply directing campaigns from his papal palace in Rome, Julius demanded to lead armies in person, acting as commander on the field of battle suited in armor with sword in hand.

As Machiavelli wrote in his political masterpiece 'The Prince,'

“all armed Prophets have been victorious, and all unarmed Prophets have been destroyed.”

Julius preferred to be an armed prophet.

As pope he led armies on at least two occasions, the first in 1506 to expel the tyrant of Bologna, Bentivoglio. Julius marched with a French contingent into the city as Bentivoglio fled. The second saw the Papal States capture the city of Ferrara in June of 1512.

During his military excursions Julius commissioned what is today the world’s oldest army, the Swiss Guard. Originally co-opted as a mercenary force used to bolster his military, the Guard soon earned distinction as fierce and loyal fighters.

Julius referred to them as "Defenders of the Church's freedom,” an epithet which reveals how he saw the Church’s conflicts at the time – not expansionist wars for land and resources, but wars of reclamation to ensure the Church’s autonomy and stability.

The Warrior Pope had no qualms about jumping in the fray of political disputes or even full-fledged wars, hoping to carve out Christ’s kingdom with bravado and blood rather than through merely prayer and penance.

Julius’s tactics were not only controversial by today’s standards; in his own time the faithful were often left questioning where his spiritual authority began and his earthly power ended.

Many saw his unrestrained political and military involvement as tyrannical, and hands-on pontificate led directly to the Protestant Reformation a few years after his death, transforming the Church – and the Western world – forever.

As the dust settled in the wake of the Reformation, the Church, governments, and militaries transformed. The proliferation of professional armies in the 15th, 16th, and 17th centuries meant feudal levies were increasingly uncommon.

Bishops and other clerics were no longer tied to their lords’ military ambitions. The prevalence of fighting clergy greatly diminished from their heyday during the medieval period.

Some clergy could be found in battles up until the 20th century, but these were rare and never included high ranking churchmen like bishops; these later fighting priests also lacked the backing of the ecclesial body.

The days of bold bishops like Odo who fought alongside a conqueror, or Adhemar who led a crusade and inspired his men to reclaim Jerusalem, or Amalric who was overcome with bloodlust and slaughtered a city, were all but over.

So we've reviewed a brief history of medieval warrior bishops, but one pressing question remains...

Did bishops helmets like this actually exist?

Unfortunately, this very beautiful piece is a modern recreation, and no similar work dating from the middle ages has ever been found.

However...

The Rochester Chronicle, written by a monk called Edmund of Hadenham, is a 14th-century medieval manuscript that contains an interesting depiction on the top-right corner of ones of its pages:

The image appears to be of a mitre-and-helmet combination similar to the modern recreation we've seen above. So it's possible they were real!

I hope you enjoyed this thread, and if you've made it this far then you're a legend. If you're interested in checking out the full article with sources, check the link in my bio.

If there's anything I've missed, feel free to add to the conversation. I find this topic to be immensely interesting, and there seems to be no comprehensive history of these incredible figures.