Chapter I: Origin of the French Monarchy

Extent of France.--Character of its early
Inhabitants.--Conquest of Gaul.--Barbarian Invasion.--The
Franks.--Pharamond.--Clovis.--Introduction of
Christianity.--Clotilda.--Merovingian Dynasty.--Fields of
March.--Anecdote of Clovis.--The Parisii.--Strife with the
Nobles.--Moorish Invasion.--Charles Martel.--Pepin.--Fields
of May.--Charlemagne.--His Policy.--Feudal System.--The
Church.--Rolls.--Louis V.--Hugh Capet.--Parliament established by
Philip the Fair.

Could one have occupied some stand-point in the clouds fifty years before the birth of our Savior, and have looked down upon that portion of ancient Gaul which has since been called France, he would have seen an immense undulating plain about six hundred and fifty miles square, bounded on the north by the Rhine, on the east by the craggy cliffs of the Alps, on the south by the almost impassable barriers of the Pyrenees, and on the west by the ocean. This beautiful realm, most admirably adapted in its physical features, its climate, and its soil to be inhabited by man, was then mostly covered with forest. Vast rivers, with their innumerable branches flowing in every direction, beautified the landscape and rendered the soil exuberantly fertile. About twenty millions of people, divided into more than a hundred independent tribes, inhabited this fair land. Life was with them all a scene of constant battle. They ever lived with weapons of war in their hands, seeking to encroach upon the rights of others or to repel those who were crowding upon them.

In this state of affairs imperial Rome cast a glance over the Alps upon Gaul, and resolved upon its conquest and annexation to the empire. Julius Caesar, at the head of forty thousand men, descended through the defiles of the mountains and entered Gaul between the Lake of Geneva and Mount Jura. After a series of campaigns extending through ten years, and after sweeping with his invincible legions nearly two millions of men from his path, he succeeded in the entire subjugation of the country. Roman governors were appointed over the several provinces, and fortresses were reared and garrisoned by twelve hundred Roman soldiers, who enforced the laws of the empire. The arts, the civilization, and the refinements of Rome were gradually extended over the semi-barbaric Gauls, and for nearly four hundred years the country enjoyed general peace and prosperity. The southern portion of the province became distinguished for its schools, its commerce, and its elegance.

Toward the close of the third century the Roman Empire, enervated by luxury and vice, was visibly on the decline. Then commenced that mighty flood of invasion from the north which finally overran the whole of southern Europe, sweeping before it almost every vestige of the power and grandeur of the Caesars. Army after army of skin-clad warriors, in aspect savage as wolves and equally merciless, crossed the Rhine, and in fierce and interminable battle fought their way over the plains of Gaul. For nearly four hundred years barbarian hordes from the shores of the North Sea, from the steppes of Tartary, even from far-off China, were pouring down upon southern Europe. Those in the rear crowded forward those in the advance. These clannish tribes, every where victorious, were slow to amalgamate. Each retained its distinctive laws, language, customs, and manners. For more than two centuries this cruel war continued, and all Gaul presented but a scene of tumult, terror, and carnage.

Among the marshes of the Lower Rhine there dwelt a fierce tribe called Franks, or Freemen. Early in the fifth century, Pharamond, the sovereign chief of this tribe, a man of extraordinary energy and sagacity, formed a confederacy with several other adjacent tribes, crossed the Rhine at various points, and after a series of terrific conflicts, which were protracted through many years, overpowered the Gauls under their Roman leaders, and took possession of the country nearly as far as the River Somme. Being the leading chief of the confederated tribes, he exerted a kind of supremacy over the rest, which may perhaps be considered as the first dawning of the French monarchy. The successors of Pharamond retained his conquests, and gradually extended their dominions until they were in possession of all the country between the Rhine and the Loire.

In the year 480 Clovis succeeded to the chieftainship of the confederation. Ambitious, unscrupulous, and energetic, he pushed his invading armies toward the Pyrenees, and for thirty years nearly all the south of France was a volcano of smoke and flame. His march, though attended with many reverses, was triumphant, and at the close of his career in the year 511 nearly all Gaul was partially subjected to his sway.

Christianity had previously entered Gaul from Rome. Clovis married Clotilda, the daughter of a Christian bishop. In the heat of one of his battles, as the tide of victory was setting against him, Clovis, raising his hands and eyes to heaven, exclaimed,

"O God of Clotilda! if thou wilt interpose and grant me this victory, I will renounce idols forever and become a Christian."

He gained the victory, and on the next Christmas-day Clovis was baptized. But a man more thoroughly wicked never played the hypocrite. By treachery the most loathsome, he caused all the chiefs to be assassinated who could be regarded in the least degree as his rivals, and, placing chiefs subject to his will at the head of all the different tribes, he attained such a supremacy as has led historians to speak of Clovis as the first monarch of the conquered realm. The dynasty thus established has been called the Merovingian, from Merovius, the grandfather of Clovis. From this successful invasion of the Franks all Gaul received the name of France. The leaders of these victorious bands occasionally had general assemblies, held in the open air, to deliberate respecting important movements. These meetings were very large, as all the chiefs and sub-chiefs came in battle array, surrounded by an ostentatious and well-armed retinue. As these assemblies were usually held in the month of March they received the name of Fields of March, _Champs de Mars_. The interests of the confederation rendered it not unfrequently necessary that these assemblies should be convened. This was the origin of the States General of France, which, twelve centuries later, opened the drama of that terrible revolution, which is universally regarded as the most awful tragedy of time.

An incident which occurred during one of these assemblies held by Clovis interestingly illustrates the character of that barbaric chief and the state of the times. A silver vase was included in the plunder taken from the church of Rheims after the conquest of that city. The plunder was divided at Soissons. The bishop of the church earnestly solicited that the vase might be restored to him. Clovis advocated the wishes of the bishop. One of the Frank warriors, jealous of his chief's interference, with one blow of his battle-axe crushed the vase, sternly declaring that Clovis was entitled to his share of the plunder and to no more. The chieftain, though glowing with rage, ventured not to utter a word.

At the next review of his troops, Clovis, approaching the soldier, took his weapon as if to inspect it. Pronouncing it to be unfit for use, he threw it disdainfully upon the ground. As the soldier stooped to pick it up, Clovis with one blow of his battle-axe crushed his skull, exclaiming, "Thus didst thou strike the vase at Soissons."[5]

The monarchy, thus established by usurpation, treachery, and blood, was very precarious and shadowy in its power. There was no acknowledged metropolis, no centralization of authority, no common laws. The whole country was occupied by the various tribes of invaders, each, under its own local chiefs, claiming independence, governed by its own customs, and holding the province upon which it chanced to have taken possession. Thus the supremacy of Clovis was neither precisely defined nor boldly claimed.

When Caesar, five hundred years before the rise of Clovis, invaded Gaul, he found a tribe, called the Parisii, dwelling upon the banks of the Seine, with their principal village--which consisted of a few barbarian huts of mud, with straw roofs, and without chimneys--upon a small island embraced by the river. From the name of the tribe the village itself was subsequently called Paris. Such was the origin of that world-renowned metropolis which for ages has been the focal point of literature, science, art, and bloody revolutions. During the sway of the Romans the city had increased very considerably in population and importance, and Clovis selected it as his capital.

For about three hundred years the successors of Clovis maintained their supremacy. During all this period there was a constant conflict between the king and the heads of the other tribes, or the nobles as they gradually began to be called. An energetic monarch would occasionally arise and grasp extended power. But he would perhaps be succeeded by a feeble ruler, and the nobles would again rally and make vigorous encroachments upon the royal assumptions. The only contest, however, was between the king and the nobles. The mass of the people were in abject servitude, with no recognized rights.

In the year 732 the Moors, who had crossed the sea from Africa and had overrun Spain, began to crowd down in battle array through the defiles of the Pyrenees upon the plains of France. A successful general, Charles _Martel_ (the hammer), so called from the tremendous blows he dealt the enemy, met them and drove them back with prodigious slaughter. By his achievements he acquired immense popularity and renown. As a very feeble prince then occupied the throne, Charles Martel collected the reins of power into his own hands, and, though nominally but an illustrious general, became in reality the ruler of France. Satisfied with the possession of power he was not ambitious of the kingly title, or thought it not prudent to grasp at too much at once.

At the death of Charles Martel, his son Pepin, a man of great energy and ambition, drove the imbecile king, Childeric III., into a cloister, and took his seat unresisted upon the throne. The dynasty thus established is called the Carlovingian, from Charlemagne, the most illustrious of this line of kings. The nation cordially approved of the act. As Pepin could not claim the throne by right of hereditary descent, he founded his title to reign upon the regal power which his father had in _reality_ exercised, and upon the well-known assent of the nation. To confirm his authority still more, he appealed to the Pope. The Church was now in the plenitude of its power; and the Pope, grateful for the service which Charles Martel had rendered the Church by driving back the infidels, with alacrity consented to establish Pepin upon the throne by the august rites of religion.

Pepin, as his leading warriors had now become horsemen, changed the time of the general assemblies from the month of March to May, as the latter month was more convenient for forage, and the Assembly hence received the name of Fields of May, _Champs de Mai_. At these meetings the king presided, and the body was composed of the higher clergy and the nobility. Occasionally, a small delegation of the most distinguished of the people, who were called the Third Estate, _Tiers Etat_, had been admitted. Pepin called together only the clergy and the nobility, declining to admit the Third Estate to the Assembly. Subsequently some kings admitted the Third Estate, and others excluded them, according to their caprice. Questions relating to war, peace, and the enactment of general laws were submitted to this body, and decided by the majority. The chiefs only could speak. The assembled warriors clamorously and with clashing of arms expressed assent or dissent.

The world-renowned Charlemagne, succeeding his father Pepin, ascended the throne in the year 768. France at that time presented every where an aspect of decay and wild disorder. This monarch, illustrious both as a warrior and a statesman, fused the heterogeneous and warring tribes into a compact nation. Still, the mass, though consolidated, was conglomerate, its component parts distinctly defined. All France bowed submissive to his sway. Like a whirlwind he traversed Spain with his armies. Italy speedily acknowledged his supremacy. The vast empire of Charlemagne soon vied with that of ancient Rome, embracing nearly the whole of Europe.

It was an important point in the policy of Charlemagne to humble the nobles. He wished to surround his throne with an aristocracy enjoying privilege and splendor, but deprived of all political power. He wished himself to appoint the rulers of the provinces, and not to allow those offices to be hereditary with the counts and the dukes. Therefore he endeavored to ally the _people_ with himself in resisting the powerful barons. He also, with the same object in view, sedulously courted the affections of the Church, conferring many of the most important offices of the state upon the high ecclesiastics.

Charlemagne ordered the Assembly to meet twice every year. Every count was commanded to bring to this congress thirteen of the most influential of the people within his jurisdiction. They usually met in two bodies, the ecclesiastical leaders in one spot, the military in another. Sometimes, by order of the king, they both met together. The king held his court at a little distance, and by messengers received constant reports from the two bodies. Weighing the result of their deliberations, he issued his decree, which all recognized as law. Such was the germ of deliberative assemblies in France.

Charlemagne established several schools. In these he assembled for severe study many of the young men of the empire, selecting the low-born as well as the sons of the nobles. As he was very desirous that his reign should be embellished by the attainments of men of letters, he frequently examined these schools himself. One of the historians of those days writes:

"When, after a long absence, Charlemagne returned to Gaul, he ordered the children to be brought to him, to show him their exercises and verses. Those belonging to the lower classes exhibited works beyond all hope, but those of noble descent had only trifles to show. The wise monarch, imitating the Eternal Judge, placed those who had done well on his right hand, and thus addressed them:

"'A thousand thanks, my sons, for your diligence in laboring according to my orders and for your own good. Proceed. Endeavor to perfect yourselves, and I will reward you with magnificent bishoprics and abbeys, and you shall be ever honorable in my sight.'

"Then he bent an angry countenance upon those on his left hand, and, troubling their consciences with a lightning look, with bitter irony, and thundering rather than speaking, he burst upon them with this terrible apostrophe:

"'But for you, nobles, you sons of the great--delicate and pretty minions as you are, proud of your birth and your riches--you have neglected my orders and your own glory, and the study of letters, and have given yourselves up to ease, sports, and idleness.'

"After this preamble, raising on high his august head and his invincible arm, he fulminated his usual oath:

"'By the King of Heaven I care little for your nobility and beauty, however others may admire you. You may hold it for certain that, if you do not make amends for your past negligence by vigilant zeal, you will never obtain any thing from Charles.'"[6]

Wherever Charlemagne led his legions, he baptized the vanquished; and the conquered tribes and nations called themselves Christians. The ignorant barbarians eagerly accepted the sacrament for the sake of the white baptismal robe which was given to each proselyte.

The vast empire of Charlemagne under his effeminate successors rapidly crumbled to pieces. In ceaseless conflicts and fluctuations the chiefs of the tribes, or nobles, gradually regained the power which had been wrested from them by Charlemagne. Upon the ruins of the empire arose the feudal system, and France became a monarchy but in name. The throne, shorn of its energies, retained but the shadow of power. Haughty dukes, surrounded by their warlike retainers, and impregnable in massive castles which had been the work of ages, exercised over their own vassals all the prerogatives of royalty, and often eclipsed the monarch in wealth and splendor. The power of the duke became so absolute over the serfs who tilled his acres, and who timidly huddled for protection beneath the ramparts of the castle, that, in the language of the feudal code, the duke "might take all they had, alive or dead, and imprison them when he pleased, being accountable to none but God."

France again became but a conglomeration of independent provinces, with scarcely any bond of union. The whole landscape was dotted with castles strongly built upon the river's bluff, or upon the craggy hill. These baronial fortresses, massive and sombre, were flanked by towers pierced with loop-holes and fortified with battlements. A ditch often encircled the walls, and an immense portcullis or suspended gate could at any moment be let down, to exclude all entrance. The apartments were small and comfortless, with narrow and grated windows. There was one large banqueting-hall, the seat of baronial splendor, where the lord met his retainers and vassals in intercourse in which aristocratic supremacy and democratic equality were most strangely blended. Every knight swore fealty to the baron, the baron to the duke, the duke to the king. The sovereign could claim military service from his vassals, but could exercise no power over their serfs, either legislative or judicial. It not unfrequently happened that some duke had a larger retinue and a richer income than the king himself.

A poor knight implored of the Count of Champagne a marriage-portion for his daughter. A wealthy citizen who chanced to be present said, "My lord has already given away so much that he has nothing left." "You do not speak the truth," said the count, "since I have got yourself;" and he immediately delivered him up to the knight, who seized him by the collar, and would not liberate him until he had paid a ransom of twenty-five hundred dollars. A French knight relates this story as an instance of the count's generosity.

These lords were often highway robbers. Scouts traversed the country, and armed men who filled their castles watched for travelers. The rich merchant who chanced to fall into their hands was not only despoiled of all his goods, but was often thrown into a dungeon, and even tortured until he purchased his ransom at a price commensurate with his ability.

Under this feudal sway the eldest son was the sole possessor. "As for the younger children," exclaims Michelet, with indignant sarcasm, "theirs is a vast inheritance! They have no less than all the highways, and over and above, all that is under the vault of heaven. Their bed is the threshold of their father's house, from which, shivering and ahungered, they can look upon their elder brother sitting alone by the hearth where they too have sat in the happy days of their childhood, and perhaps he will order a few morsels to be flung to them notwithstanding the dogs do growl. 'Down, dogs, down, they are my brothers! they must have something as well as you.'"

The Church was the only asylum for the younger sons of these great families. In her bosom ambitious ecclesiastics, as bishops, archbishops, and cardinals, often attained a degree of splendor and of authority which the baron, the count, or the duke in vain strove to emulate. The unmarried daughters took refuge in the monasteries, or were shut up, in seclusion which was virtual imprisonment, in the corners of the old chateaux. Thus the convents, those castles of the Church, were reared and supported mainly to provide for the privileged class. The peasant in the furrow looked with equal dread upon the bishop and the baron, and regarded them equally as his oppressors.

These proud bishops assumed the character and the haughty air of feudal lords. They scorned to ride upon the lowly mule, but vaulted upon the back of the charger neighing for the battle. They were ever ready for a fray, and could strike as sturdy blows as ever came from the battle-axe of a knight. The vows of celibacy were entirely disregarded. Some took wives; others openly kept concubines. These younger sons of the nobles, dressed in the garb of the Church, were found to be such dangerous characters that there was a general demand that they should be married. "Laymen are so convinced," says one of the ancient writers, "that none ought to be unmarried, that in most parishes they will not abide a priest except he have a concubine." The lords spiritual endeavored to fashion the Church upon the model of the feudal system. Abbeys and bishoprics, with all their rich endowments, passed by descent to the children of the bishops.[7]

An incident which occurred in the year 911 throws much light upon the rudeness of those barbaric times. Rollo, the chieftain of a band of Norman pirates, entered the Seine, committing fearful ravages. Charles IV., appropriately called Charles the Simple, alarmed by his progress and unable to raise a force sufficient to check him, sent an archbishop to offer him the possession of Normandy, with the title of hereditary duke, if he would peaceably take possession of this territory and swear allegiance to the king. Rollo eagerly accepted the magnificent offer. In performing the ceremony of swearing fealty, it was necessary, according to custom, for Rollo to prostrate himself before the king and kiss his feet. The haughty Norman, when called upon to perform the ceremony, indignantly drew himself up, exclaiming,

"Never, never will I kiss the foot or bow the knee to mortal man."

After some delay it was decided that the act of homage should be performed by proxy, and Rollo ordered one of his stalwart soldiers to press his lip upon the foot of the king. The burly barbarian strode forward, as if in obedience to the command, and, seizing the foot of the monarch, raised it high above his head, and threw the monarch prostrate upon the floor. The Norman soldiers filled the hall with derisive shouts of laughter, while the king and his courtiers, intimidated by barbarians so fierce and defiant, prudently concealed their chagrin.

The Carlovingian dynasty held the throne for two hundred and thirty-five years. Louis V., the last of this race, died in 987. He was called, from his indolence and imbecility, the Idler. As he sank into an inglorious grave, an energetic and powerful noble, Hugh Capet, Duke of the Isle of France, with vigorous arm thrust the hereditary claimant into a prison and ascended the throne. Thus was established the third dynasty, called the Capetian.

For two hundred and fifty years under the Capets, France could hardly be called a kingdom. Though the name of king remained, the kingly authority was extinct. The history of France during this period is but a history of the independent feudal lords, each of whom held his court in his own castle. None of these kings had power to combine the heterogeneous and discordant elements. The fragile unity of the realm was broken by differences of race, of customs, of language, and of laws. But in this apparent chaos there was one bond of union, the Church, which exerted an almost miraculous sway over these uncultivated and warlike men. The ecclesiastics were strongly in favor of the Capets, and were highly instrumental in placing them upon the throne.

With the Capets commenced a royal line which, in its different branches, running through the houses of Valois and of Bourbon, retained the throne for eight hundred years, until the fall of Louis XVI. in 1793.

About the year 1100 we begin to hear the first faint murmurs of the people. Some bold minds ventured the suggestion that a man ought to be free to dispose of the produce of his own labor, to marry his children without the consent of another, to go and come, sell and buy without restriction. Indeed, in Normandy the peasants broke out in a revolt. But steel-clad knights, in sweeping squadrons, cut them down mercilessly and trampled them beneath iron hoofs. The most illustrious of the complainants were seized and hung to the trees, as a warning to all murmurers. The people were thus taught that trees made good gibbets. When their turn came they availed themselves of this knowledge.

In the year 1294 Philip the Fair established a court in Paris called the Parliament. This was purely an aristocratic body, and was, in general, entirely subservient to the king's wishes. Similar parliaments were established by the great feudal princes in their provinces. There were occasional contentions between the parliaments and the king, but the king usually succeeded in compelling them to obedience. The Parliament enjoyed only the privilege of registering the royal edicts. In the reign of Louis XIV. the Parliament ventured to express a little objection to one of the tyrannical ordinances of the monarch.

The boy-king, eighteen years of age, was astounded at such impudence. He left the chase, and, hastening to the hall, entered it whip in hand. He could send them one and all to the Bastille or the block, and they knew it, and he knew it. The presence of the king brought them to terms, and they immediately became as submissive as fawning spaniels.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 5: Greg. Tur., book ii., c. 28.]

[Footnote 6: Monach. Sangall, b. i., c. ii., sqq., as quoted by Michelet.]

[Footnote 7: See the abundant proof of these statements in Michelet's History of France, p. 193.]