The Council of Rheims under Archbishop Seulfus (923-924) stands as a remarkable ecclesiastical response to civil war, imposing equal penance on all combatants of the Battle of Soissons regardless of faction. Held amid the collapse of Carolingian authority and political chaos, this provincial synod demonstrated the Church's moral authority by requiring three years of structured penance from warriors on both sides, treating fratricidal bloodshed as a sin requiring atonement rather than taking political sides. The council's impartial approach and resolution of the Cambrai dispute between Bishop Stephen and Count Isaac foreshadowed later ecclesiastical peace movements while asserting the Church's role as moral arbiter in an age of violence.

1. Historical Context

The Council often called Concilium Rhemense (Council of Rheims) under Archbishop Seulfus took place in the early 10th century amid intense political and social turmoil. In the decades around 900, the once-mighty Carolingian royal authority was in steep decline, assailed by external invasions and internal power struggles (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). Viking raiders (Norsemen) had ravaged West Francia; King Charles III “the Simple” sought peace by ceding Normandy to their leader Rollo in 911 and converting the Normans to Christianity (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). At the same time, powerful Frankish nobles – notably the Robertian family (Counts of Paris) – were challenging Carolingian rule. In 922, Robert, Count of Paris (brother of the late King Odo), was elected king in opposition to Charles III, igniting a civil war for the crown (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). This conflict culminated in the Battle of Soissons on 15 June 923, a bloody encounter between Charles’s forces (bolstered by Lotharingian allies and recently converted Norman knights) and the army of King Robert I and his partisans (Battle of Soissons (923) - Wikipedia). The battle proved devastating – Robert was killed in combat, but his army won the day; Charles III was captured by Count Herbert II of Vermandois and imprisoned (Battle of Soissons (923) - Wikipedia). With Charles eliminated from power (he remained Herbert’s prisoner until his death in 929), Robert’s son-in-law, Duke Rudolph (Raoul) of Burgundy, succeeded to the throne of West Francia in 923 (Battle of Soissons (923) - Wikipedia). This period was thus one of extreme upheaval: the battle itself “stands out as a terrible instance of human butchery,” leaving the kingdom in chaos with “law and government… completely disrupted” in its aftermath (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). It was in this context – a traumatized society after fratricidal war and a fragile new regime – that the Church stepped in. The ecclesiastical leadership, notably the Archbishop of Rheims and his suffragan bishops, convened a synodal council (likely in early 924) to address the spiritual and moral crises stemming from the civil war (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). The council was held at Trosly (near Soissons) in the heart of the war-torn region, under the presidency of Archbishop Seulfus of Reims (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). This gathering aimed to restore order and conscience in the realm by ecclesiastical means at a time when secular assemblies had failed – in the vivid words of historian Sir Francis Palgrave, “the Church, mourning for all the crimes and miseries of the nation, bore her testimony against war” by means of this synod (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages).

2. Key Figures

Archbishop Seulfus of Reims (†925) was the central figure of this council. A former archdeacon of Reims and disciple of the scholar Remigius of Auxerre, Seulfus (also spelled Seulfe or Sculfe) was elected archbishop in 922 upon the death of his predecessor, Archbishop Hervee (Seulf (archbishop of Reims) - Wikipedia). Notably, his elevation was backed by the new King Robert I, indicating Seulfus’s close alignment with the Robertian faction in the civil war (Seulf (archbishop of Reims) - Wikipedia). He was consecrated by Abbo, Bishop of Soissons, and soon after received his pallium (symbol of archiepiscopal authority) from Pope John X along with papal letters confirming the privileges of the Reims see (Seulf (archbishop of Reims) - Wikipedia) (Seulf (archbishop of Reims) - Wikipedia). Described as proud and stern in temperament, Seulfus did not hesitate to assert ecclesiastical authority in tumultuous times. Some later historians criticized him for partisanship – for effectively “supporting the rebels” against the lawful Carolingian king (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). In fact, around the same time as the council, Seulfus presided over the coronation of Queen Emma (daughter of Robert I and wife of King Raoul), symbolizing the Reims archbishopric’s endorsement of the new Robertian dynasty (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). Nevertheless, at the council itself Seulfus acted in a pastoral role for the whole province, not merely as a factional ally. He convened the suffragan bishops of the Province of Rheims to deliberate on the nation’s spiritual condition. The acta (records) of the synod list the attending prelates: “Seulf, Archbishop of Rheims, Abbo, Bishop of Soissons, Adelelm of Laon, Stephen of Cambrai, Adelelm of Senlis, and Airnand of Noyon,” along with legates representing the other bishops of the province (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). This roster shows the broad ecclesiastical leadership engaged – from major dioceses of northern France – even if some bishops sent delegates due to the unsettled conditions. The secular rulers involved in the recent conflict were not present at the synod but loomed large in its concerns: King Robert I (who had fallen in battle) and King Charles III (now a captive) are explicitly both referred to as “kings” in the council’s decrees (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). Their conflict was the catalyst for the council’s action. Also indirectly significant was Count Herbert II of Vermandois, the powerful regional lord who held Charles captive. Herbert was an ambitious figure who had designs on the archbishopric of Reims for his own family – indeed, it was rumored that Seulfus, to secure Herbert’s cooperation, promised to support the future election of Herbert’s young son to the Reims see (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). (This unsavory bargain may have sealed Seulfus’s fate: in 925, the archbishop died after reportedly being poisoned by agents of Herbert, who was “in a hurry” to install his five-year-old son Hugh as Archbishop of Reims (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia).) Another key figure at the council was Bishop Stephen of Cambrai, one of Seulfus’s suffragans, who brought to the synod a grievance against a secular noble – an issue the council would address alongside the matter of the war. On the secular side, Count Isaac of Cambrai, a local Lotharingian lord, became a significant figure in the council’s proceedings due to his violent offenses (burning a church fortress) against Bishop Stephen (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). Although not a voluntary participant, Isaac’s case was taken up by the synodal fathers to uphold justice for the Church. Thus, the council gathered a mix of ecclesiastical leaders – Seulfus and the bishops of Reims’s suffragan sees – responding to the actions of royals and nobles – the two rival kings (Robert and Charles) and lords like Herbert and Isaac – whose conflicts had shaken both church and society. The prominence of Seulfus’s role is underscored by the fact that the council is identified with him in the records (“praeside Seulfo” – “presided by Seulfus”) (Milano Velasquez). His leadership, supported by bishops like Abbo of Soissons and Stephen of Cambrai, was crucial in formulating the council’s decrees. Despite his political entanglements, at Trosly Archbishop Seulfus assumed the persona of a spiritual shepherd for a fractured flock, aiming to guide both victors and vanquished toward repentance and reconciliation.

3. Doctrinal and Canonical Decisions

The Council of Rheims (Trosly) in 923/924 issued significant disciplinary and moral rulings, rather than new doctrinal definitions. Its canons addressed two main issues: (a) the penance required of those involved in the recent civil war, and (b) the resolution of a violent offense against the Church (the Cambrai incident).

a. Penance for Participants in the Battle of Soissons (923): The synod’s most remarkable decision was a general penitential ordinance for all combatants who had taken part in the war between King Robert and King Charles. The council decreed that everyone who had been involved in the Battle of Soissons – regardless of which side they fought on – was to undergo an extensive program of penance (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). The assembled bishops, “mourning the crimes and miseries” of this fratricidal conflict, essentially treated the bloodshed as a public sin demanding public atonement (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). According to the acta, “they have decreed that this penance be enjoined on all those who have taken part in the battle of Soissons fought between Robert and Charles, in the following manner: that they do penance for three 40-day periods for three years” (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). In practice, this meant that for each of three successive years, the veterans of the battle must observe three separate 40-day penitential seasons (evocative of Lent). The penance was quite severe and formal in character. During the first 40-day period of each year, the penitents were to remain excommunicate in a sense – excluded from entering church – and only be reconciled at the end, presumably through a rite of absolution allowing them back to the Eucharistic table (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). Throughout all three quarantines (40-day spans), the warriors were commanded to practice fasting and abstinence: on every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday (“the second, fourth and sixth days of each week”) they were to fast on bread and water, unless they performed an acceptable redemption (a commutation, likely almsgiving or an equivalent, as medieval penitential practice often allowed) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). Additional fasting was prescribed for certain liturgical periods – for example, for 15 days before the feast of St. John the Baptist (midsummer) and 15 days before Christmas, as well as every Friday of the year (unless a major feast intervened or illness or military duty excused them) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). In sum, the council imposed a three-year long regimen of penance involving multiple Lenten-style fasts and public acts of contrition. Crucially, no distinction was made between the victors and the vanquished: “all who had fought, the vanquished or the victors, were alike blood-guilty and must submit to the discipline the Church imposed” (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). The council explicitly forbade any combatant from entering a church until he had been formally reconciled, underscoring that those who shed blood in this civil war were temporarily in a state of grave sin in the eyes of the Church (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). This sweeping penitential decree effectively treated the fratricidal war as an offense against God and Christian unity. It reflects the canon law principle (rooted in earlier Church tradition) that even in a just cause, the killing of fellow Christians necessitates penance. By enjoining penance on both sides without exception, the synod avoided casting political judgments (it did not brand one party as “rebels” or legitimize the other) and instead focused on the spiritual healing of the community as a whole (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). Contemporary observers found this decision extraordinary for its impartiality: unlike many medieval councils that might punish only the “rebellious” faction, this synod blamed all combatants equally (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). Given that Charles’s forces had initiated a surprise attack (in fact on a Sunday) and included pagan-born Normans notorious for savagery, one might have expected the council to single them out for harsher treatment (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). Yet Seulfus and his colleagues refrained from apportioning blame politically – a sign that the Church sought to rise above the civil strife. Theologically, this ruling reinforced the sanctity of Christian life and the principle that bloodshed among Christians is a sin requiring penitential purification, regardless of political justification. It was an assertion of ecclesiastical authority over matters of war and peace: the Church claimed the right to adjudicate the spiritual status of warriors and to demand penance even for killings done in the context of a claimed “just war.” The decree’s detailed fasting requirements also echo older penitential canons and practices, showing continuity with the system of canonical penances from Late Antiquity and the early medieval penitential books (which often imposed years-long penances for homicide). In effect, the council turned the aftermath of a civil war into a large-scale act of public repentance, aiming to re-sanctify a realm polluted by fratricide.

b. Resolution of the Cambrai Incident (Ecclesiastical Discipline): In addition to the broad penitential decree, the Council of Trosly addressed at least one specific case of wrongdoing that came before it – a dispute involving Bishop Stephen of Cambrai and Count Isaac of Cambrai. During the disorders of the time, Count Isaac (a regional magnate in Lotharingia) had perpetrated violence against the Church by burning a castle belonging to Bishop Stephen (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). (This likely refers to an episcopal fortress or property – perhaps a stronghold of the bishopric – which the count attacked, an action that was both sacrilegious and politically significant.) Archbishop Seulfus and the synod used the occasion to uphold the rights of the bishop and enforce justice upon the lay noble. The council “made satisfaction be given to Stephen, Bishop of Cambrai, by Count Isaac of Cambrai who had burned a castle belonging to Stephen” (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). In practice, this means the council heard the complaint and rendered a judgment requiring the count to atone for his offense – likely compelling Isaac to restore the property or pay reparations and to perform appropriate penance for his act of arson. The phrasing “gave satisfaction” implies that Isaac was made to acknowledge wrongdoing and compensate the injured church party, a common goal of medieval ecclesiastical councils dealing with conflicts between prelates and lay lords. By doing so, the synod reaffirmed the protection of church property and the principle that nobles were subject to ecclesiastical discipline for acts of violence against the Church. This case also had a broader political context: Cambrai, at the frontier of West Francia and Lotharingia, was in the early 10th century shifting toward becoming a prince-bishopric, and the weakening of Count Isaac’s power in favor of Bishop Stephen was a step in that process (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). The council’s judgment against Isaac thus not only redressed an injustice but also bolstered the trend of ecclesiastical authority over secular lords in that region. It’s worth noting that the council was held in the pago Suessionico (the region of Soissons) yet included matters from Cambrai, demonstrating the provincial council’s competence over a wide geography corresponding to the archdiocese of Rheims. No evidence suggests the council addressed any abstruse theological doctrines or heresies; its focus was remedial and disciplinary, dealing with the moral-legal consequences of recent events. In essence, the canons from this synod were pastoral rulings: one a general penitential ordinance after a civil war, the other a sentence in a case of church rights vs. noble violence. Both types of decisions are grounded in established canonical principles – penance for shedding blood, and restitution for injuries to the Church – applied now in an unprecedented scale. Through these decisions, the Council of Rheims (924) asserted the Church’s role as moral arbiter in the kingdom’s crises: offering penance and reconciliation to heal the land, and defending ecclesiastical justice against unruly lay powers.

4. Impact and Legacy

Although a relatively short provincial synod, the Council presided by Seulfus at Rheims/Trosly in 923–924 had a noteworthy impact on the medieval Church’s approach to war and ecclesiastical authority, and it occupies a distinctive place in the history of synodal actions.

Immediate Impact (Healing a Fractured Kingdom): In the short term, the council’s penitential decree aimed to reunite and spiritually cleanse a kingdom torn apart by civil war. By imposing a uniform penance on all survivors of the battle, the Church created a pathway for reconciliation that transcended party lines (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). This was a conscious attempt to mend the social fabric: victors and vanquished alike had to humble themselves and seek absolution side by side, which could help diminish resentments. The public nature of the three-year penance – with ex-combatants performing visible acts of contrition “before God and man” over an extended period (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages) – meant that the process of repentance became a communal experience. Such an approach likely facilitated the reintegration of former enemies under the new king (Rudolph), since the Church did not stigmatize one side as morally in the wrong, but rather treated the violence itself as the common sin to be atoned. Contemporary chroniclers and later analysts viewed this as a dramatic and extraordinary response: the conscience of the Church had been so “moved by such carnage” that it imposed what one scholar calls a “heavy penance on those responsible” (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). In essence, the council filled a moral and political vacuum in the wake of Soissons. Secular governance was paralyzed after the battle (“revolutions, disorder and tumult were the order of the day” (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages)), so the ecclesiastical leadership took the initiative to restore order on a spiritual level. This enhanced the prestige of the Church as a stabilizing force. Even King Rudolph, though not directly mentioned in the canons, presumably assented to or at least tolerated the Church’s wide-reaching penitential program – an implicit recognition of ecclesiastical authority over matters of sin and penance, even for kings and nobles. The Cambrai settlement at the council similarly had an immediate effect: it curbed the impunity of a violent noble and reinforced episcopal rights. Count Isaac’s humiliation at Trosly (being forced to “give satisfaction” for burning the bishop’s castle) was an early sign that high nobility could be brought to heel by a united front of bishops (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). This incident fed into the longer process of the Church asserting temporal power in certain regions (in Cambrai’s case, paving the way for the bishop to gain princely authority) (Du comté de Cambrai à la marche de Valenciennes) (Du comté de Cambrai à la marche de Valenciennes). Thus, in the 920s the Council of Rheims contributed to defining the relationship between the Church and secular warlords: it made clear that the sanctity of church property and the spiritual welfare of Christendom were non-negotiable, even amid political turmoil.

Influence on Medieval Church Policy and Thought: The penitential decree after the Battle of Soissons stands as one of the earliest and clearest examples of the medieval Church formally addressing the ethics of warfare. It reinforced the principle that no war between Christians was entirely “just” in the eyes of God if it led to widespread bloodshed – all combatants had to seek forgiveness. This principle had been voiced by Church Fathers like St. Basil and in earlier penitential canons, but the Rheims council gave it concrete application on a large scale. The decree was an ad hoc response to a specific civil war, not a general law for all wars, yet it set a powerful precedent. It demonstrated that the Church hierarchy could and would intervene collectively in the aftermath of internecine conflict to impose spiritual discipline. This idea did not vanish after 924. For instance, nearly a century later, churchmen confronted another notorious battle – the Norman Conquest of England (1066) – in a somewhat similar spirit. A synod of Norman bishops meeting in 1070 (under papal legate Ermenfrid) imposed detailed penances on William the Conqueror’s knights for the blood they had shed at the Battle of Hastings (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). However, there was a telling difference: in 1070 the penalty fell only on the victors (the Normans), while the defeated English were considered already chastened, whereas in 924 the Frankish bishops had bound both sides to penance (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). The impartiality shown at Rheims – treating a civil war as a tragedy with “no just side” – remained unusual. Later medieval practice often assumed one party was in the right; for example, when Pope Gregory VII contemplated penance after battles, he tended to exempt those fighting for a righteous cause. Nonetheless, the spirit of penitential restraint on warfare from 923 anticipated the ethos of the “Peace and Truce of God” movement that emerged in the late 10th and 11th centuries. The Peace of God councils (starting in 989 at Charroux) and Truce of God decrees likewise were church-led initiatives to limit knightly violence and protect the innocent, in response to endemic feudal warfare (Peace and Truce of God - Wikipedia). Those councils threatened excommunication to curb violence, whereas the Rheims council imposed penance after the fact; but both share the premise that private war among Christians is sinful or at least in need of strict regulation (Peace and Truce of God - Wikipedia). In this sense, the 923/4 synod can be seen as an early forerunner of the Church’s developing stance that it had competence over war and peace – a trajectory that would lead, by stages, to the proclamation of the Truce of God (limiting times of warfare) and even the calling of Crusades (wars commanded by the Church). Indeed, the shift in the High Middle Ages was dramatic: whereas the Council of Rheims treated war as an evil necessitating repentance, the era of the First Crusade (1095) and after saw the Church sometimes portray war (against infidels) as a meritorious act that could itself confer penance or indulgence. This evolution highlights how unusual and idealistic the 924 decree was in context – it represents the penitential tradition at its strongest, before the concept of “holy war” altered the equation. The legacy of the council also lived on in more immediate ecclesiastical traditions. The records of the synod were preserved in the archives of Reims and later copied into canonical collections and histories, ensuring that later churchmen knew of its actions. The idea that those who kill in battle should do penance reappears in various medieval texts. For example, the canon law collections of Burchard of Worms (early 11th century) and eventually Gratian (12th century) include decrees and penances concerning violence and homicide, reflecting norms consistent with what was enforced at Rheims (The Evolution of Latin Canon Law on the Clergy and … - Brill). It is likely that the severity of the three-year penance at Rheims was cited in discussions of penance for soldiers, at least as an exemplar. Church reformers of the 11th century, concerned with knightly excesses, could point to such precedents when insisting that even noblemen were not above the laws of God. Locally, in the Province of Rheims, Seulfus’s council set a standard for episcopal cooperation in defending the Church. In 993, a provincial synod under Archbishop Gerbert of Reims similarly took aim at those who had pillaged Church lands or abused church vassals, and enacted sanctions against them (Concile de Reims — Wikipédia) – essentially continuing the work of protecting ecclesiastical rights that had been exemplified at Trosly in 924. The moral authority the bishops wielded in 924, moreover, contributed to the prestige of the see of Rheims. Reims, as the traditional coronation see of the Frankish kings, already had primacy in Gaul, and Seulfus’s leadership in 924 reinforced that preeminent role. (Ironically, Seulfus’s own tenure was cut short by his sudden death in 925, leading to a period of turmoil as political nobles interfered in the archbishopric. The installation of the child Archbishop Hugh by Count Herbert II in 925/926 – the very scenario rumored before – actually came to pass, undoing some of Seulfus’s work and triggering its own set of synodal interventions in later years (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). But the memory of Seulfus’s council survived this setback.) In summary, the Council of Rheims (923/924) had a lasting legacy as a bold assertion of ecclesiastical responsibility for the moral aftermath of war. It highlighted the Church’s mission to foster peace and penitence within Christian society. While its stringent decrees did not halt all future violence, they became part of the wider tapestry of medieval Church policy that sought, with mixed success, to temper the sword with the cross.

5. Comparative Analysis with Other Councils

The Council presided by Seulfus at Rheims (Trosly, 923/4) can be compared to both earlier contemporary synods and later medieval councils, revealing both unique features and common patterns in ecclesiastical assemblies.

Contemporary/Early Medieval Synods: In the context of the 9th and early 10th centuries, church councils were frequently convened in the Carolingian realms, but most dealt with internal church reforms, doctrinal clarifications, or political disputes in collaboration with kings. The Rheims council of 923/4 stands out because it addressed the consequences of a civil war in a broad pastoral way. Few if any earlier councils had imposed such a collective penance on an entire army of Christian belligerents. During the Carolingian era, it was not unheard-of for churchmen to urge reconciliation after conflicts – for example, after the Battle of Fontenoy in 841 (a notoriously bloody fight among Charlemagne’s grandsons), priests reportedly urged the combatants to repent. However, no formal synodal decree from that time is recorded as matching the scale of the Rheims penance. Earlier Frankish councils (like those under Charlemagne and his successors) more typically legislated on ecclesiastical discipline, clerical morality, or doctrinal issues such as adoptionism or predestination, rather than issuing blanket moral judgments on recent political battles. In that sense, the 924 synod was a novel exercise of episcopal authority in the secular sphere. It could be seen as a response to the breakdown of imperial rule – akin to the regional councils held just after the Carolingian empire’s fragmentation, where bishops took on roles of leadership in absence of strong kings. In fact, the Rheims council’s very location and name invite comparison to an earlier council under Archbishop Hervee (Seulfus’s predecessor). In 909, Hervee of Reims held a Concilium Trosleianum (Council of Trosly) with his suffragans (Milano Velasquez) (Milano Velasquez). That earlier council reportedly anathematized those who had opposed or harmed Archbishop Fulk of Reims (Fulk had been murdered in 900) (Milano Velasquez). The 909 Trosly council was thus concerned with punishing the killers of a bishop and those who violated church order – a somewhat similar theme of ecclesiastical authority confronting violence. Seulfus’s council at the same locale continued this line: whereas Hervee’s synod excommunicated perpetrators of an assassination, Seulfus’s synod imposed penance on perpetrators of civil bloodshed. Both indicate the archbishops of Reims using councils to respond to crises of violence, though 924’s decree was broader in scope.

Within a few years of 924, other councils echoed its concerns. In 925, for example, a council at Ingelheim in East Francia (attended by Archbishop Ruotger of Trier and others) dealt with the disorder after King Conrad’s death, and while its records focus on political settlements, we see bishops increasingly arbitrating secular conflicts. In West Francia, the generation after Seulfus continued to see assertive councils: the Council of Verdun (947) and Council of Ingelheim (948), under Archbishop Artold of Reims and papal legates, adjudicated the contested claims to the Reims see (between Hugh of Vermandois – the child installed by Herbert – and Artold) and condemned the violence used by lay magnates in church affairs. Those councils, like 924’s, had to balance secular politics and spiritual law, though their focus was more on episcopal legitimacy than war penance.

Later Medieval Councils: Moving into the late 10th and 11th centuries, the legacy of Rheims 924 can be seen in the Peace of God councils. The Synod of Charroux in 989 (south-west France) issued canons threatening excommunication for nobles who attacked churches, clerics, pilgrims, or peasants – essentially trying to restrain noble violence by spiritual sanctions (Peace and Truce of God - Wikipedia). While Charroux’s approach was preventive (proscribing violence under pain of anathema), it shares a spirit with Rheims 924 in recognizing the Church’s duty to mitigate the horrors of feudal warfare. The Truce of God movement soon followed (starting around 1027 at Elne and 1041 at Toulouges in southern France), which forbade fighting on certain days of the week and seasons of the year. This too resonates with the 924 council’s sensitivity to holy times – recall that Charles’s forces had attacked on a Sunday, a fact not lost on the bishops (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). The Peace and Truce councils institutionalized what the Rheims council had done momentarily: they made it a standing policy of the Church to limit intra-Christian violence, whereas Rheims had been a one-time response. Nevertheless, both reflect the Church’s growing role as peacekeeper.

Comparison can also be drawn with the Council of Rouen (1063) and Council of Caen (1047), which, under the guidance of the papal legate, imposed penances on participants of certain battles (for instance, the 1047 Truce of God council at Caen reportedly threatened 30 years’ penance in exile for those who broke the peace ([PDF] the penitential ordinance of John of Ivry, archbishop of Rouen (1067 …)). These instances show that the idea of penitential discipline for violent nobles did continue sporadically. But none is better documented in that early era than the Rheims 924 decree. As noted, the Council of Winchester (1070) led by Papal Legate Ermenfrid after the Norman Conquest explicitly parallels Rheims: it decreed penance for William the Conqueror’s knights who had shed Christian blood at Hastings (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). The difference in approach – sparing the defeated English from any imposed penance – highlights how unusual the neutrality of Rheims 924 was. By 1070, the Church (now aligned with the papacy’s reform agenda) took a more one-sided view, essentially endorsing William’s cause as just and only penalizing the conquerors as an act of piety, not of necessity. In contrast, in 924 neither warring king was clearly “in the right” from the Church’s perspective, so the council treated the entire war as a lamentable tragedy. This underscores that Rheims 924 occurred during a time when the Carolingian notion of sacred kingship was still in flux – the bishops did not want to decisively condemn either a Carolingian or the Robertian, so they avoided political entanglement by condemning war itself. Later councils (e.g., Council of Reims 990–991) were far more entangled in political partisanship. For example, the Council of Reims in 991 (the Synod of Saint-Basle) was convened by King Hugh Capet and his advisor Gerbert of Aurillac with a very political goal: to depose Arnulf, the Carolingian Archbishop of Reims, who had betrayed the new Capetian regime (Concile de Reims — Wikipédia). That council – effectively a royal council with bishops – not only deposed Archbishop Arnulf but even went so far as to declare the Pope (John XV) had no authority to intervene, famously denouncing the papacy in language of apocalyptic invective (Council of Reims - Wikipedia) (Council of Reims - Wikipedia). This stands in stark contrast to the 924 council: whereas Seulfus’s synod focused on moral penance and avoided direct confrontation with papal authority (indeed Seulfus had solicited his pallium from Pope John X (Seulf (archbishop of Reims) - Wikipedia)), the 991 council was a power struggle between the French episcopate (backed by the king) and Rome. The 991 synod’s acts were later annulled by the Pope, showing that its partisan stance did not endure. But it illustrates how by the late 10th century, some French councils had shifted from the pastoral tone of 924 to a more political tone, influenced by nascent Capetian royal interests.

Another instructive comparison is with the famous Council of Reims in 1049, where Pope Leo IX personally presided (Council of Reims - Wikipedia) (Council of Reims - Wikipedia). That council had an entirely different character: it was part of the Gregorian Reform movement, dealing with issues like simony, clerical marriage, and the authority of the papacy. King Henry I of France was so wary of Leo IX holding a council on French soil that he tried (unsuccessfully) to prevent bishops from attending (Council of Reims - Wikipedia) (Council of Reims - Wikipedia). In 1049, the conflict was between royal prerogative and papal reform, and indeed Leo IX excommunicated bishops who obeyed the king’s command to skip the council (Council of Reims - Wikipedia). Compared to 924, the 1049 synod shows how the priorities of councils evolved: from addressing local wars and feuds to tackling internal Church corruption and the question of papal vs. royal authority. The Rheims councils of 991 and 1049 are thus very different in scope from that of 924. Yet all these gatherings are part of the continuous tradition of ecclesiastical synods which could address whatever issues were most urgent for the Church at the time – be it war, heresy, discipline, or investiture.

In summary, the Council of Rheims (923/4) compares to other councils as follows: It was unusual for its collective penance on warriors (something only paralleled in a few later cases like 1070 Winchester after Hastings), and it was pastoral in a way many politically charged synods (991, for example) were not. It was similar to other early medieval councils in that it dealt with concrete local problems (like a noble attacking a bishop’s castle) as many provincial synods did, and it asserted the Church’s authority, much as councils before and after asserted in different contexts. In the broader trajectory, one can see Rheims 924 as an early attempt at what later became the Peace of God – a movement the council predates by decades. By the high medieval period, councils and Church law had absorbed some of its lessons (e.g. Lateran II in 1139 would ban the use of the crossbow against Christians, an echo of the principle of restraining intra-Christian bloodshed). Conversely, the era of Crusade councils (like Clermont in 1095) inverted some of 924’s assumptions, since those councils encouraged war against infidels and offered spiritual rewards for it. Thus, when viewed against the panorama of church synods, the Council of Rheims under Seulfus appears as a singular moral intervention in a time of anarchy – a council more concerned with atonement than with power, whereas many later councils had to contend with questions of authority (royal or papal) and doctrinal uniformity. Its legacy is found more in the tradition of Christian pacification efforts than in the direct lineage of great doctrinal councils.

6. Textual and Linguistic Insights

The primary source for the Council of Rheims (923/924) is preserved in Latin, notably in Patrologia Latina volume 132, which reproduces the acta as reported by early medieval chronicles or council collections. The document is often titled in Latin as “Concilium Rhemense, praeside Seulfo”, indicating it is the acts of a synod of Rheims under the presidency of Seulfus, Archbishop of Reims (Milano Velasquez). Interestingly, while called “Rhemense” (of Rheims) because it was a provincial council of the Rheims ecclesiastical province, the text itself and other sources clarify that the council actually took place “apud Trosleium in pago Suessionico” – at Trosly in the region of Soissons (Milano Velasquez) (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). Thus, some historians refer to it as the Council of Trosly (924). This dual naming is not unusual in medieval records: councils were sometimes named after the diocese of the convener (here Rheims) or the actual location. Migne’s edition draws from earlier scholars like Philippe Labbe (who compiled medieval councils in Concilia collections) ([PDF] Untitled - Documenta Catholica Omnia). The acta apparently survived in a manuscript that eventually made its way to the Vatican Library, where modern researchers uncovered the full text of the penitential decree (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). This suggests that the records of the council were not widely copied in many manuscripts – perhaps because the council was regional – but at least one copy endured, allowing 17th–19th century editors to publish it. In terms of structure and language, the extant text begins with a typical dating clause and list of participants, reflecting standard Carolingian-era council protocol. It is dated “In the year of the Incarnation of Our Lord 924, and in the second year of the episcopate of Lord Seulf”, which places it firmly in 924 (the discrepancy that some sources say 923 likely comes from the fact that the battle was in 923; the council itself convened after the new year, making it 924 by the calendar) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). The use of the Incarnation year (Anno Domini) dating is normal for church documents by this time, as is the reference to the archbishop’s regnal year (a practice often seen in synodal records, akin to how royal decrees use the king’s regnal year). The text then names the assembled prelates: “Seulfus archiepiscopus Remensis, Abbo episcopus Suessionensis (Soissons), Adelelmus Laudunensis (Laon), Stephanus Cameracensis (Cambrai), Adelelmus Silvanectensis (Senlis), Aernandus Noviomensis (Noyon), together with the legates of the other bishops of the see of Rheims” (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). We notice a couple of interesting linguistic points here: the presence of two bishops named “Adelelm” (Adalelm) – one of Laon and one of Senlis – which might be a copying coincidence or an unusual occurrence of two prelates with the same name. Also, the bishop of Noyon is referred to as “Aernandus” (possibly a Latinization of a Germanic name like Arnund or Arnulf). These demonstrate the blend of Late Latin and Frankish naming in the text. The decree itself is written in the sober, practical Latin characteristic of early 10th-century ecclesiastical documents. It avoids flowery rhetoric and gets straight to the prescriptions. For example, it uses phrases like “poenitentiam agant” (let them do penance) and “extra ecclesiam sint” (let them be outside the church) to lay down commands (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). The specificity of the fasting instructions is notable: terms like “secundo, quarto et sexto die” (on the 2nd, 4th, and 6th day of the week) appear, showing the use of numerical weekday designations (common in liturgical context, counting from Sunday as the first day). The phrase “in pane et aqua” (on bread and water) is the traditional way to denote a fasting regimen (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). The text also allows that they can “redimant” those fasts – this verb redimere in medieval Latin context means to redeem/commute a penance, usually by an act of charity or an alternate sacrifice. This reflects the penitential practice where equivalent penances (like almsgiving) could substitute for strict fasting on some occasions – a nuance the council included, indicating a sophisticated understanding of penitential discipline. Another linguistic aspect is how the decree handles exceptions: it makes provision for important feast days, sickness, or ongoing military service as valid reasons that might interrupt the fasting schedule (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). The Latin likely uses terms such as “si forte necessitas warfaring intervenerit” or similar to exempt those actively on duty – acknowledging that some of these warriors might still be engaged in defense of the realm (not all hostilities ceased after 923, given Viking threats, etc.). The text shows a pastoral flexibility even within its rigor. The tone of the decree is authoritative and absolute – “They have decreed that this penance be enjoined on all those who have taken part in the battle…” (Latin: “statuerunt ut haec poenitentia omnibus qui partem habuerunt in praelio…”) – using the formal conciliar language that indicates a binding injunction (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). Such wording later allowed these decrees to be cited as canonical provisions. Indeed, fragments of this council’s decrees found their way into later canonical collections (Labbe’s Concilia, and likely hinted at in compilations like those of Ivo of Chartres), although it did not become as famous as ecumenical council canons. The manuscript transmission of the text, as mentioned, was limited. It appears Flodoard of Reims – a chronicler of the 10th century who wrote Annals and a History of the Church of Rheims – knew of the council. In his Annals for the year 924, Flodoard notes that a synod was held and that those who fought at Soissons were assigned a heavy penance, which aligns with the acta (this is likely how later historians like André Duchesne or the editors of Gallia Christiana preserved knowledge of the event). The language Flodoard uses (in summary) and the council’s own language helped confirm the text’s authenticity when it was rediscovered (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). Modern scholars have commented on the Latin style as straightforward but significant. The International Red Cross’s historical review, for instance, emphasized how unique it was to find in a formal synodal decree such a detailed penitential ordinance, since by the 10th century public penance had become rare in Frankish lands (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). This highlights a linguistic-cultural point: the concept of public, long-term penance was something more often seen in early Christian centuries or in monastic rules, but here it reappears in a 10th-century conciliar text. The Latin terminology used – poenitentia, reconciliatio, extra ecclesiam, satisfactio (though satisfactio for Isaac’s case is noted in narrative, not sure if in the canon text) – is part of the well-developed vocabulary of penance in the Church. In the Cambrai case, if the acts were fully recorded, we might see terms like “satisfactio” (satisfaction) or “iustitia” being done to the bishop, which mirror legal language as well. The council’s acts as preserved do not contain elaborate prayers or anathemas (unlike some councils that end with anathema formulas). Instead, it’s all business: decree of penance, and presumably a closing. If any anathema was pronounced, it might have been implied that those who refused to do the penance would be considered excommunicate, but the text as we have it frames it positively (do penance, be reconciled) rather than as a list of curses. Lastly, one can observe that the tone of moral urgency in the Latin – phrases like “crimina et miseriae nationis” (the crimes and miseries of the nation) which appear in Palgrave’s paraphrase (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages) – indicate the bishops saw the war in almost biblical terms, as a national sin. If the original acta included a preface or justification, it might have echoed Biblical language (for instance, referencing how penance averts God’s wrath, etc.), though the surviving portion is mainly prescriptive. In conclusion, the textual record of the Concilium Rhemense under Seulfus is a fine example of late Carolingian Latin serving the needs of a turbulent age: it is clear, directive, and rooted in the canon law and penitential traditions. The document’s journey from a 10th-century gathering to a 19th-century printed edition (PL 132) also reminds us how such provincial council texts sometimes lay hidden in manuscripts for centuries. Thanks to scholars who traced citations in works like those of Flodoard, or found the text in Vatican codices, we today can read this extraordinary council’s acts and appreciate both their language and their substance. The Latin text not only informs us of the decisions but also conveys the ethos of a church that spoke the language of both law and mercy to a war-weary people.

Sources: The analysis above draws on the Latin acta of the council as found in Patrologia Latina and described by modern scholars, as well as historical studies of the period (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). Secondary sources such as the International Review of the Red Cross article by M.-h. Keane provide context on the penitential decrees (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages) (Penitential discipline and Public Wars in the Middle Ages). Information on Archbishop Seulfus’s life and the political background is derived from Flodoard’s history (via modern histories) and Wikipedia summaries of the Battle of Soissons (Battle of Soissons (923) - Wikipedia) (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). The French Gallia Christiana tradition (as cited by Fisquet and others) offers details on the Cambrai incident and Seulfus’s administration (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia) (Seulfe de Reims — Wikipédia). These sources together paint a comprehensive picture of the council’s context, content, and legacy, showing how an ostensibly small synod in 924 became a landmark in the medieval Church’s journey through a dark age toward reform and renewal.