Chapter III: The Franks to the Time of Charles Martel (2)

It is evident, from the language of Gregory of Tours,[o] that this conflict between the Franks and Visigoths was regarded by the orthodox party of his own and preceding ages as a religious war, on which, humanly speaking, the prevalence of the Catholic or the Arian creed in western Europe depended. Clovis did everything in his power to deepen this impression. He could not, he said, endure the thought that “those Arians” held a part of his beautiful Gaul. As he passed through the territory of Tours, which was supposed to be under the peculiar protection of St. Martin, he was careful to preserve the strictest discipline among his soldiers, that he might further conciliate the church and sanctify his undertaking. On his arrival at the city of Tours, he publicly displayed his reverence for the patron saint, and received the thanks and good wishes of a whole chorus of priests assembled in St. Martin’s church. He was guided (according to one of the legends by which his progress has been so profusely adorned) through the swollen waters of the river Vienne by “a hind of wonderful magnitude”; and, as he approached the city of Poitiers, a pillar of fire (whose origin we may trace, as suits our views, to the favour of heaven or the treachery of man) shone forth from the cathedral, to give him the assurance of success, and to throw light upon his nocturnal march. The Catholic bishops in the kingdom of Alaric were universally favourable to the cause of Clovis, and several of them, who had not the patience to postpone the manifestation of their sympathies, were expelled by Alaric from their sees. The majority indeed made a virtue of necessity, and prayed continually and loudly, if not sincerely, for their lawful monarch. Perhaps they had even in that age learned to appreciate the efficacy of mental reservation.

Conscious of his own weakness, Alaric retired before his terrible and implacable foe, in the vain hope of receiving assistance from the Ostrogoths. He halted at last in the plains of Voulon, behind Poitiers, but even then rather in compliance with the wishes of his soldiers than from his own deliberate judgment. His soldiers, drawn from a generation as yet unacquainted with war and full of that overweening confidence which results from inexperience, were eager to meet the enemy. Treachery also was at work to prevent him from adopting the only means of safety, which lay in deferring as long as possible the too unequal contest. The Franks came on with their usual impetuosity, and with a well-founded confidence in their own prowess; and the issue of the battle was in accordance with the auspices on either side. Clovis, no less strenuous in actual fight than wise and cunning in council, exposed himself to every danger, and fought hand to hand with Alaric himself. Yet the latter was not slain in the field, but in the disorderly flight into which the Goths were quickly driven. The victorious Franks pursued them as far as Bordeaux (Burdigala), where Clovis passed the winter, while Thierry, his son, was overrunning Auvergne, Quincy, and Rouergue. The Goths, whose new king was a minor, made no further resistance; and in the following year the Salian chief took possession of the royal treasure at Toulouse. He also took the town of Angoulême, at the capture of which he was doubly rewarded for his services to the church; for not only did the inhabitants of that place rise in his favour against the Visigothic garrison, but the very walls, like those of Jericho, fell down at his approach!

A short time after these events, Clovis received the titles and dignity of Roman patricius and consul from the Greek emperor Anastasius; who appears to have been prompted to this act more by motives of jealousy and hatred towards Theodoric the Ostrogoth, than by any love he bore the restless and encroaching Frank. The meaning of these obsolete titles, as applied to those who stood in no direct relation to either division of the Roman Empire, has never been sufficiently explained. We are at first surprised that successful warriors and powerful kings, like Clovis, Pepin, and Charlemagne himself, should condescend to accept such empty honours at the hands of the miserable eunuch-ridden monarchs of the East. That the Byzantine emperors should affect a superiority over contemporary sovereigns is intelligible enough; the weakest idiot among them, who lived at the mercy of his women and his slaves, had never resigned one tittle of his pretensions to that universal empire which an Augustus and a Trajan once possessed. But whence the acquiescence of Clovis and his great successors in this arrogant assumption? We may best account for it by remarking how long the prestige of power survives the strength that gave it. The sun of Rome was set, but the twilight of her greatness still rested on the world. The German kings and warriors received with pleasure, and wore with pride, a title which brought them into connection with that imperial city, of whose universal dominion, of whose skill in arms and arts, the traces lay everywhere around them.

[Sidenote: [507-508 A.D.]]

Nor was it without some solid advantages in the circumstances in which Clovis was placed. He ruled over a vast population, which had not long ceased to be subjects of the empire, and still rejoiced in the Roman name. He fully appreciated their intellectual superiority, and had already experienced the value of their assistance. Whatever tended to increase his personal dignity in their eyes (and no doubt the solemn proclamation of his Roman titles had this tendency) he deemed of no small importance.

In the same year that he was invested with the diadem and purple robe in the church of St. Martin at Tours, the encroaching Franks had the southern and eastern limits of their kingdom marked out for them by the powerful hand of Theodoric the Great. The brave but peace-loving Goth had trusted too much to his influence with Clovis, and had hoped to the last to save the unhappy Alaric, by warning and mediation. The slaughter of the Visigoths, the death of Alaric himself, the fall of Angoulême and Toulouse, the advance of the Franks upon the Rhone, where they were now besieging Arles (Arelate), had effectually undeceived him. He now prepared to bring forward the only arguments to which the ear of a Clovis is ever open--the battle-cry of a superior army. His faithful Ostrogoths were summoned to meet in the month of June, 508 A.D., and he placed a powerful army under the command of Eva (Ibba or Hebba), who led his forces into Gaul over the southern Alps. The Franks and Burgundians, who were investing Arles and Carcassonne, raised the siege and retired, but whether without or in consequence of a battle is rendered doubtful by the conflicting testimony of the annalists. The subsequent territorial position of the combatants, however, favours the account given by Julian;[j] that a battle did take place, in which Clovis and his allies received a most decided and bloody defeat.

[Sidenote: [508-509 A.D.]]

The check thus given to the extension of his kingdom at the expense of other German nations, and the desire perhaps of collecting fresh strength for a more successful struggle thereafter, seem to have induced Clovis to turn his attention to the destruction of his Merovingian kindred. The manner in which he effected his purpose is related with a fulness which naturally excites suspicion. But though it is easy to detect both absurdity and inconsistency in many of the romantic details with which Gregory has furnished us, we see no reason to deny to his statements a foundation of historical truth.

Clovis was still but one of several Frankish kings; and of these Sigebert of Cologne, king of the Ripuarians, was little inferior to him in the extent of his dominions and the number of his subjects. But in other respects--in mental activity and bodily prowess--“the lame” Sigebert was no match for his Salian brother. The other Frankish rulers were Chararic, of whom mention has been made in connection with Syagrius, and Ragnachar (or Ragnachas), who held his court at Cambray. The kingdom of Sigebert extended along both banks of the Rhine, from Mogontiacum (Mainz) down to Cologne; to the west along the Moselle as far as Trèves; and on the east to the river Fulda and the borders of Thuringia. The Franks who occupied this country are supposed to have taken possession of it in the reign of Valentinian III, when Mainz, Cologne, and Trèves were conquered by a host of Ripuarians. Sigebert, as we have seen, had come to the aid of Clovis, in two very important battles with the Alamanni and the Visigoths, and had shown himself a ready and faithful friend whenever his co-operation was required. But gratitude was not included among the graces of the champion of catholicity, who only waited for a suitable opportunity to deprive his ally of throne and life. The present juncture was favourable to his wishes, and enabled him to rid himself of his benefactor in a manner peculiarly suited to his taste. An attempt to conquer the kingdom of Cologne by force of arms would have been but feebly seconded by his own subjects, and would have met with a stout resistance from the Ripuarians, who were conscious of no inferiority to the Salian tribe. His efforts were therefore directed to the destruction of the royal house, the downfall of which was hastened by internal divisions.

Clotaire (or Clotaric), the expectant heir of Sigebert, weary of hope deferred, gave a ready ear to the hellish suggestions of Clovis, who urged him, by the strongest appeals to his ambition and cupidity, to the murder of his father. Sigebert was slain by his own son in the Buchonian forest near Fulda. The wretched parricide endeavoured to secure the further connivance of his tempter, by offering him a share of the blood-stained treasure he had acquired. But Clovis, whose part in the transaction was probably unknown, affected a feeling of horror at the unnatural crime, and procured the immediate assassination of Clotaire--an act which rid him of a rival, silenced an embarrassing accomplice, and tended rather to raise than to lower him in the opinion of the Ripuarians. It is not surprising, therefore, that when Clovis proposed himself as the successor of Sigebert, and promised the full recognition of all existing rights, his offer should be joyfully accepted. In 509 A.D. he was elected king by the Ripuarians, and raised upon a shield in the city of Cologne, according to the Frankish custom, amid general acclamation.

[Sidenote: [509-511 A.D.]]

“And thus,” says Gregory of Tours,[o] in the same chapter in which he relates the twofold murder of his kindred, “God daily prostrated his enemies before him and increased his kingdom, because he walked before him with an upright heart, and did what was pleasing in his eyes!”--so completely did his services to the Catholic church conceal his moral deformities from the eyes of even the best of the ecclesiastical historians.

To the destruction of his next victim, Chararic, whose power was far less formidable than that of Sigebert, he was impelled by vengeance as well as ambition. That cautious prince, instead of joining the other Franks in their attack upon Syagrius, had stood aloof and waited upon fortune. Yet we can hardly attribute the conduct of Clovis towards him chiefly to revenge, for his most faithful ally had been his earliest victim; and friend and foe were alike to him, if they did but cross the path of his ambition. After getting possession of Chararic and his son, by tampering with their followers, Clovis compelled them to cut off their royal locks and become priests; subsequently, however, he caused them to be put to death.

Ragnachar of Cambray, whose kingdom lay to the north of the Somme, and extended through Flanders and Artois, might have proved a more formidable antagonist, had he not become unpopular among his own subjects by the disgusting licentiousness of his manners. The account which Gregory gives of the manner in which his ruin was effected is more curious than credible, and adds the charge of swindling to the black list of crimes recorded against the man who “walked before God with an upright heart.” According to the historian, Clovis bribed the followers of Ragnachar with armour of gilded iron, which they mistook, as he intended they should, for gold. Having thus crippled by treachery the strength of his enemy, Clovis led an army over the Somme, for the purpose of attacking him in his own territory. Ragnachar prepared to meet him, but was betrayed by his own soldiers and delivered into the hands of the invader. Clovis, with facetious cruelty, reproached the fallen monarch for having disgraced their common family by suffering himself to be bound, and then split his skull with an axe. The same absurd charge was brought against Richar, the brother of Ragnachar, and the same punishment inflicted on him. A third brother was put to death at Mans.

Gregory refers, though not by name, to other kings of the same family, who were all destroyed by Clovis. “Having killed many other kings,” he says, “who were his kinsmen, because he feared they might deprive him of his power, he extended his kingdom through the whole of Gaul.” He also tells us that the royal hypocrite, having summoned a general assembly, complained before it, with tears in his eyes, that he was “alone in the world.” “Alas, for me!” he said, “I am left as an alien among strangers, and have no relatives who can assist me.” This he did, according to Gregory, “not from any real love of his kindred, or from remorse at the thought of his crimes, but that he might find out any more relatives and put them also to death.”

Clovis died at Paris, in 511 A.D., in the forty-fifth year of his age and the thirtieth of his active, blood-stained, and eventful reign. He lived therefore only five years after the decisive battle of Voulon.

Did we not know, from the judgment he passes on other characters in his history, that Gregory of Tours was capable of appreciating the nobler and gentler qualities of human nature, we might easily imagine as we read what he says of Clovis that, Christian bishop as he was, he had an altogether different standard of right and wrong from ourselves. Not a single virtuous or generous action has the panegyrist found to record of his favoured hero, while all that he does relate of him tends to deepen our conviction that this favourite of heaven, in whose behalf miracles were freely worked, whom departed saints led on to victory and living ministers of God delighted to honour, was quite a phenomenon of evil in the moral world, from his combining in himself the opposite and apparently incompatible vices of the meanest treachery and the most audacious wickedness.

We can only account for this amazing obliquity of moral vision in such a man as Gregory, by ascribing it to the extraordinary value attached in those times (and would that we could say in those times only) to external acts of devotion, and to every service rendered to the Roman church. If, in far happier ages than those of which we speak, the most polluted consciences have purchased consolation and even hope by building churches, endowing monasteries, and paying reverential homage to the dispensers of God’s mercy, can we wonder that the extraordinary services of a Clovis to Catholic Christianity should cover even his foul sins as with a cloak of snow?

He had, indeed, without the slightest provocation, deprived a noble and peaceable neighbour of his power and life. He had treacherously murdered his royal kindred, and deprived their children of their birthright. He had on all occasions shown himself the heartless ruffian, the greedy conqueror, the blood-thirsty tyrant; but by his conversion he had led the way to the triumph of Catholicism; he had saved the Roman church from the Scylla and Charybdis of heresy and paganism, planted it on a rock in the very centre of Europe, and fixed its doctrines and traditions in the hearts of the conquerors of the West.

Other reasons, again, may serve to reconcile the politician to his memory. The importance of the task which he performed (though from the basest motives), and the influence of his reign on the destinies of Europe, can hardly be overrated. He founded the monarchy on a firm and enduring basis. He levelled, with a strong though bloody hand, the barriers which separated Franks from Franks, and consolidated a number of isolated and hostile tribes into a powerful and united nation. It is true, indeed, that this unity was soon disturbed by divisions of a different nature; yet the idea of its feasibility and desirableness was deeply fixed in the national mind; a return to it was often aimed at, and sometimes accomplished.[q]

“The only conceivable palliation for any of the crimes which Clovis committed,” says Hodgkin,[r] “would have been the advantage of securing the unity of the Frankish state. Yet that unity was immediately impaired by the division of his dominions among his four sons.”

SUCCESSORS OF CLOVIS TO PEPIN

[Sidenote: [511-531 A.D.]]

In the reign of Clovis a new monarchy had been formed beyond the Rhine, that of the Thuringians, who, after their incorporation with other tribes, fell on the trans-Rhenish Franks. The latter implored the aid of their kindred tribes in Gaul: Thierry, the eldest, and Clotaire, another son of Clovis, carried the war into Thuringia. These princes triumphed over the enemy, whose rulers they exterminated, and whose country Thierry added to his possessions. Some of King Hermanfrid’s children, however, escaped into Italy, whence, in the sequel, they appear to have returned and to have given rise to the ducal house of Thuringia. In the same manner the duchies of Swabia and Bavaria were added to the domains of Thierry; so that the empire of the Franks now extended from Bohemia to the British Channel, and from the mouth of the Elbe to Languedoc and Toulouse. But it did not satisfy their ambition, which next turned towards Burgundy (532).

[Sidenote: [531-555 A.D.]]

Clotilda, the widow of Clovis, whom superstition has canonised, remembered the massacre of her parents and brothers, and the dangers of her own infancy, and she instigated her sons to vengeance. Sigismund, the son of her uncle Gundebald, now occupied the throne of Burgundy. He too is honoured as a saint, though soon after his accession he had murdered his own son at the instigation of a second wife. Through the exhortations of the holy widow, her three sons Childebert, Clotaire, and Clodomir (Thierry, who was not her son, refused to have any part in the war) invaded the province, and defeated Sigismund. Clodomir took him captive, and threw him, with his wife and children, into a well. Godemar, brother of Sigismund, collected another army, defeated the Franks, and having gained possession of Clodomir--such is fate’s retributive justice!--beheaded him. After the death of Clodomir, Clotaire, the second brother, who had two wives already, married the widow, and became the protector of his two infant sons.

(Based on an old print)]

Resolved to keep their inheritance, Childebert and Clotaire sent to Clotilda, their grandmother, a sword and a pair of scissors, wishing to know whether she preferred their death or their seclusion in the cloister. In the passion of the moment, she declared that she would rather see them dead than deprived of their rightful inheritance; and her words sealed their fate. Clotaire seized the elder, not ten years of age, and plunged a knife into his heart; the younger, who was not seven, terrified at the sight, knelt before Childebert, and pathetically prayed for life. Childebert was suddenly sensible of pity; and, with tears in his eyes, he begged that the child’s life might be spared. “It was thyself that urged me to this!” replied the fiendish Clotaire: “give me the child, or die in his stead!” The survivor was immediately murdered; their nurses, pages, and servants shared the same fate, and the kingdom of Clodomir was divided between the two royal assassins. With an increased army, they again invaded Burgundy, which they conquered and divided between them, as they had before divided that of their brother Clodomir.

On the death of Thierry, in 534, he was succeeded by his son Theudibert, who inherited his martial character, and was consequently too formidable to be served like the sons of Clodomir. He headed several expeditions into Italy and Spain, which, however, were not distinguished by much success; nor was his son and successor Theudebald (548-555) more fortunate. On the death of the latter, Clotaire, his uncle, married his widow and seized his kingdom, without dividing it with Childebert: the whole kingdom of the Franks was consequently in the hands of the two sons of Clovis. In revenge, Childebert excited a civil war; but dying before its conclusion (558), his kingdom was forcibly seized by Clotaire, now sole monarch of the Franks, who exiled his wife and daughters. A year before his death, Clotaire condemned to the fire his eldest son, who had rebelled against him, and that prince’s wife and daughters, with as much coolness as he could have ordered the execution of the most guilty stranger. In fact, in the wide catalogue of human vices, there is scarcely one which was not practised by the abominable princes of this dynasty, whose memory will be held in everlasting execration.

[Sidenote: [555-575 A.D.]]

To follow in detail the actions, in other words the crimes, of this detestable dynasty, would neither suit our limits nor gratify the reader: we must rapidly glance at the chief resolutions of the Frankish Empire. Like his father, Clotaire I at his death left four sons, and all four divided his states among them. This division was effected by lot. Austrasia, or eastern France, comprehending the provinces on both sides of the Rhine, and extending from Bar-sur-Aube into Bohemia, fell to Sigebert, who removed his capital from Rheims to Metz. Neustria, or western France, which extended from Bar to the channel, and even to the confines of Aquitaine, fell to Chilperic, whose court was at Soissons. Gontram, who had Burgundy, established himself at Châlons-sur-Saône; and Charibert, from Paris his capital, ruled over Aquitaine and a narrow slip of the intermediate country. But Charibert soon died, leaving his states to be divided among his three brothers.

The reader’s mind is no doubt prepared for the same dissensions among the sons of Clotaire as among those of Clovis; he might peruse far more horrors, if either our limits or inclination disposed us to withdraw the veil which covered them. We will raise one corner. Sigebert and Chilperic were unusually hostile to each other, not so much through ambition as through the enmity of their wives, the famous Brunehild and Fredegund: the former was daughter of Athanagild, Visigothic king of Spain; the latter a low Frenchwoman, who seeing herself rejected by Chilperic for Galeswintha, a sister of Brunehild, swore revenge not only against her rival but also against Sigebert and Brunehild.

Soon renewing her empire over the heart of Chilperic, Fredegund procured the murder of Galeswintha, and her own elevation as queen. She then incited her husband to a long war with Sigebert; but, as it was not so successful as she wished; and as Sigebert came near to dethroning herself and her husband, she avoided that fate by the dagger: in 575, the victor fell by one of her hired assassins. The victim was succeeded in the kingdom of Austrasia by his son Childebert II; but, as the prince was too young to govern, the administration devolved on a new functionary--the mayor of the palace, a grand judge and general of the kingdom. Brunehild was taken captive; and her fate would soon have been decided, had not Merovæus, the son of Chilperic, but not of Fredegund, fallen in love with her, and married her.

(From a French print, 1832)]

The newly married couple took sanctuary in the church of St. Martin at Tours, and were protected by the historian and bishop St. Gregory. Chilperic, however, separated them: he restored Brunehild to the Austrasians, who were arming in the cause of their monarch’s mother; but Merovæus soon fell a victim to the persecutions of Fredegund. Clovis, another son of her husband by a former queen, Fredegund, no doubt with Chilperic’s consent, caused to perish by the dagger: so that now her own children only remained to inherit the kingdom of Neustria. But on the assassination of her husband, in 584, though she proclaimed her son Clotaire II, the army, detesting both her and her offspring, hailed Gundowald, a bastard of the deceased monarch, as their chief. Gundowald, however, who could not support his elevation, perished miserably; and his firmest support, St. Prætextatus, bishop of Rouen, fell under the sword of an assassin hired by Fredegund. In 593, Gontram, who was childless, paid the debt of nature, and Childebert of Austrasia seized Burgundy, to the prejudice of Clotaire II, the reputed heir.[123]

[Sidenote: [575-654 A.D.]]

On the death of Childebert, probably by poison, Austrasia fell to his eldest son Theudebert, aged only ten years; and Burgundy to his second, Thierry II, aged only nine. As Clotaire II, king of Neustria, was only eleven, the monarchy of the Franks was subject to three minors, or rather to the three mayors of the palace who governed in their name. In 612, Thierry II, with the aid of Clotaire, vanquished his brother Theudebert of Austrasia, whom he calmly put to death; the following year he suddenly died; his sons fell into the power of Clotaire, who was not likely to show much mercy to the offspring of his mother Fredegund’s enemy. Two of the sons he murdered; a third, whom he had held over the baptismal font, he consented to save; and Brunehild, their grandmother, who at the same time became his captive, he caused to expire in the most cruel torments. [He tied her to the heels of a wild horse.] By these bloody executions he was, in 613, at the head of the whole Frankish Empire in Germany and Gaul.

Some years before his death, he caused Dagobert, his elder son, to be crowned king of Austrasia; and after that event (628), Aquitaine fell to his second, Charibert; but in three years Charibert died, his infant son was murdered by Dagobert, and unity was once more restored to the monarchy. But Dagobert, like all the princes of his name during the last century and a half of its existence, was as feeble in body as he was cruel in heart; like them, through his early vices he was overtaken by old age in the prime of life. On his death in 638, his states were divided between his two infant sons. Austrasia fell to Sigebert III; Neustria and Burgundy to Clovis II. The former was governed by the mayor, Pepin, subsequently by Grimwald, the son of Pepin; the latter by Ercinwald. Both princes died about the usual age, between twenty and twenty-five.[s]

THE RISE OF PEPIN

The accession of the five-year-old Childebert II to the kingdom of Austrasia in 575 proved an excellent opportunity for the vassals to increase their power at the expense of the throne: and they elected a high palace official to assume the charge of rearing the young king and maintaining the peace.

It was not a new institution that the Austrasian nobles thus created. Since the house of the petty chief of Tournay had become the palace of the king of Gaul and his support a nursery of great officials and royal dignitaries, the antrustions, sometimes dispersed over the conquered territories, and again gathered around their prince, had preserved their relations with him and between themselves. The chief and his companions had grown great together, and men, become rich and powerful, continued to fill in the communal household the functions of _seneskalk_ (seneschal), of _mariskalk_ (marshal), and of _skanke_ (cupbearer); while he among the antrustions who exercised a general surveillance over the household, who took charge of the public welfare, and who sat in judgment over quarrels arising between vassals, was quite naturally the first officer of the palace, the intendant general of the crown domains, the prime minister, and the highest personage of the state after the king himself. We are not sure of the Germanic title of this official; it would seem that he was commonly called in the Teutonic language the _herzog_, the duke or leader _par excellence_. The Gallo-Romans called him the _major domus_, “the greatest, the first of the house,” a qualification formerly given among the wealthy Romans to the freedman, or even the slave, who had authority over the other slaves and directed the management of the household.

Up to Childebert’s accession, this mayor of the palace had been the creature of the king and his representative before the vassals, but now the Austrasian nobility made him the representative of the vassals before the king and the overseer of royalty. In this there was a complete revolution.[w]

[Sidenote: [638-670 A.D.]]

On the death of Dagobert, 638 A.D., his son, Clovis II, a child of six years old, succeeded him. During his minority the government of Neustria and Burgundy was carried on by his mother Nanthildis, and the major-domus Æga, while Pepin and others shared the supreme power in Austrasia. Pepin died 639 or 640 A.D., and a long and ferocious contest ensued for the vacant mayoralty, which was finally taken possession of by Pepin’s own son Grimwald. So low had the power of the nominal monarchs already sunk, that, on the death of Sigebert III, in 654 A.D., Grimwald ventured to shear the locks of the rightful heir, Dagobert II, and, giving out that he was dead, sent him to Ireland; he then proposed his own son for the vacant throne, under the pretence that Sigebert had adopted him. But the time was not yet ripe for so daring an usurpation, nor does Grimwald appear to have been the man to take the lead in a revolution. Both the attempt itself, and its miserable issue, go to prove that the son of Pepin did not inherit the wisdom and energy of the illustrious stock to which he belonged. The king of Burgundy and Neustria, pretending to acquiesce in the accession of Grimwald’s son, summoned the father to Paris, and caused him to be seized during his journey by some Franks--who are represented as being highly indignant at his presumption--and put to death.

The whole Frankish Empire was thus once more united, at least in name, under Clovis II (who died in 656 A.D.), and under his son and successor, Clotaire III, whose mother, Balthildis, an Anglo-Saxon by birth, administered the kingdom with great ability and success. But the interests and feelings of the German provinces were too distinct from those of Burgundy and Neustria to allow of their long remaining even nominally under one head. The Austrasians were eager to have a king of their own, and accordingly another son of Clovis was raised to the throne of Austrasia under the title of Childeric II, with Wulfwald as his major-domus.

At the death of Clotaire III in Neustria (in 670 A.D.) the whole empire was thrown into confusion by the ambitious projects of Ebroin, his major-domus, who sought to place Thierry III, Clothaire’s youngest brother, who was still a mere child, on the throne, that he might continue to reign in his name. Ebroin appears to have proceeded towards his object with too little regard for the opinions and feelings of the other seigneurs, who rose against him and his puppet king, and drove them from the seat of power. The successful conspirators then offered the crown of Neustria to Childeric II, king of Austrasia, who immediately proceeded to take possession, while Ebroin sought refuge in a monastery. Childeric ascended the Neustrian throne without opposition; but his attempts to control the seigneurs, one of whom, named Badilo, he is said to have scourged, gave rise to a formidable conspiracy; and he was soon afterwards assassinated, together with his queen and son, at Chelles. Wulfwald escaped with difficulty, and returned to Austrasia. Another son of Childeric, Childebert III, was then raised upon the shield by the seigneurs, while the royal party brought forward Thierry III from the monastery to which he had retired, and succeeded in making good his claim. The turbulent and unscrupulous but able Ebroin ventured once more to leave his place of refuge, and by a long series of the most treacherous murders, and by setting up a pretender--as Clovis, a son of Clotaire III--he succeeded (in 673 or 674 A.D.) in forcing himself upon Thierry as major-domus of Neustria.

In the meantime Dagobert II, whom Grimwald had sent as a child to Ireland, and who had subsequently found a faithful friend in the well-known St. Wilfrid, bishop of York, was recalled and placed on the Austrasian throne. But the restored prince soon (in 679 A.D.) fell a victim to the intrigues of Ebroin, and the Neustrian faction among the seigneurs, who aimed at bringing the whole empire under their own arbitrary power. Nor does it seem at all improbable that the ability and audacity of Ebroin might have enabled them to carry out their designs, had not Austrasia possessed a leader fully equal to the emergency.

PEPIN OF HERISTAL

[Sidenote: [656-679 A.D.]]

Pepin, surnamed “of Heristal” from a castle belonging to his family in the neighbourhood of Liège, was the son of Ansegisus by Begga, the illustrious daughter of Pepin of Landen. This great man, who proved himself worthy of his grandsire and his mother, was at this time associated with Duke Martin in the government of Austrasia, which up to 678 A.D. had been administered by Wulfwald. Martin and Pepin summoned their followers to arms to meet the expected attack of the Neustrians. In the first instance, however, the Austrasians were surprised by the activity of Ebroin, who fell upon them before they had completed their preparations, and totally defeated them in the neighbourhood of Luco-Fago.[124] Martin fled to the town of Laon; and the artifices by which his enemies lured him from this retreat to his destruction are worthy of notice, as giving us a remarkable picture of the manners of the period in general and of the sad state of the church in particular.

[Sidenote: [679-687 A.D.]]

Ebroin, hearing that his intended victim had reached a place of safety, despatched Agilbert bishop of Paris, and Probus bishop of Rheims, to persuade Martin to repair to the Neustrian camp. In order to dispel the apprehensions with which he listened to them, these holy men went through the not unusual ceremony of swearing, upon a receptacle containing sacred relics, that he should suffer no injury by following their advice. The bishops, however, to save themselves from the guilt of perjury, had taken care that the vessels, which were covered, should be left empty. Martin, whom they omitted to inform of this important fact, was satisfied with their oaths, and accompanied them to Ecri, where he and his followers were immediately assassinated, without, as was thought, any detriment to the faith of the envoys! Pepin, however, was neither to be cajoled nor frightened into submission, and soon found himself at the head of a powerful force, consisting in part of Neustrian exiles, whom the tyranny of Ebroin had ruined or offended. A collision seemed inevitable, when the position of affairs was suddenly changed by the death of Ebroin, who was assassinated in 681 A.D. by Hermenfrid, a distinguished Neustrian Frank. Waratto followed him in the mayoralty of Neustria, and seemed inclined to live on friendly terms with Pepin: but Ghislemar, his son, who headed the party most hostile to Pepin, succeeded in getting possession of the government for a time, and renewed the war against the Austrasians. Ghislemar’s death (in 684 A.D.), which the annalists[p] attributed to the divine anger, restored Waratto to his former power; and hostilities ceased for a time. When Waratto also died, about two years after his undutiful son, he was succeeded by Berchar, his son-in-law, whom the annalist pithily describes as _statura parvus, intellectu modicus_.

The insolent disregard which this man showed for the feelings and wishes of the most powerful Neustrians, induced many of them to make common cause with Pepin, to whom they are said to have bound themselves by hostages. In 687 A.D. Pepin was strong enough to assume the offensive; and, yielding to the entreaties of the Neustrian refugees, he sent an embassy to Thierry III to demand the restoration of the exiles to their confiscated lands. The king of Neustria, prompted by Berchar, his major-domus, haughtily replied that he would come himself and fetch his runaway slaves. Pepin then prepared for war, with the unanimous consent of the Austrasian seigneurs, whose wishes he scrupulously consulted. Marching through the Silva Carbonaria he entered the Neustrian territory, and took post at Textri (Testry) on the river Somme. Thierry and Berchar also collected a large army and marched to meet the invaders. The two armies encamped in sight of each other near the village of Textri, on opposite sides of the little river Daumignon, the Neustrians on the southern and the Austrasians on the northern bank. Whether from policy or a higher motive, Pepin displayed great unwillingness, even then, to bring the matter to extremities; and, sending emissaries into the camp of Thierry, he once more endeavoured to negotiate; demanding, amongst other things, that the property of which the churches had been “despoiled by wicked tyrants” should be restored to them. He promised that, if his conditions of peace were accepted and the effusion of kindred blood prevented, he would give the king a large amount of silver and gold.

[Sidenote: [687-717 A.D.]]

The wise and humane reluctance of Pepin was naturally construed by Thierry and his “little-minded” mayor into fear, and distrust of his army, which was inferior to their own in numbers; a haughty answer was returned, and all negotiations were broken off. Both sides then prepared for the morrow’s battle. Pepin, having passed the night in forming his plans, crossed the river before daybreak and drew up his army to the east of Thierry’s position, that the rising sun might blind the enemy. The spies of Thierry reported that the Austrasian camp was deserted, on which the Neustrians were led out to pursue the flying foe. The mistake of the scouts was soon made clear by the vigorous onset of Pepin; and after a fierce but brief combat the Neustrians were totally defeated, and Thierry and Berchar fled from the field. The latter was slain by his own followers; the king was taken prisoner, but his life was mercifully spared.

The battle of Textri is notable in Frankish history as that in which the death-stroke was given to the Merovingian dynasty, by an ancestor of a far more glorious race of monarchs. “From this time forward,” says the chronicler Erchanbertus,[y] “the kings began to have only the royal name, and not the royal dignity.” A very striking picture of the Rois Fainéants has been handed down to us by Einhard[u] (Eginhard), in his famous biography of Charlemagne which we quote in Chapter V. “The race of the Merovingians,” he says, “from which the Franks were formerly accustomed to choose their kings, is generally considered to have ended with Chilperic; who, at the command of the Roman pontiff Stephen, was deposed, shorn of his locks, and sent into a monastery. But although the stock died out with him, it had long been entirely without life and vigour, and had no distinction beyond the empty title of king; for the authority and government were in the hands of the highest officers of the palace, who were called majores-domus, and had the entire administration of affairs. Nothing was left to the king, except that, contenting himself with the mere royal name, he was allowed to sit on the throne with long hair and unshorn beard, to play the part of a ruler, to hear the ambassadors from whatever part they might come, and at their departure to communicate to them the answers which he had been taught or even commanded to make, as if by his own authority. Besides the worthless title of king and a scanty maintenance, which the major-domus meted out according to his pleasure, the king possessed only one farm, and that by no means a lucrative one, on which he had a dwelling-house and a few servants, just sufficient to supply his most urgent necessities. Wherever he had to go, he travelled in a carriage drawn by a yoke of oxen and driven by a cowherd in rustic fashion. It was thus that he went to the palace, to the public assembly of the people, which met every year for the good of the kingdom; after which he returned home. But the whole administration of the state, and everything which had to be regulated or executed, either at home or abroad, was carried on by the mayors.”

The whole power of the three kingdoms was thus suddenly thrown into the hands of Pepin, who showed in his subsequent career that he was equal to the far more difficult task of keeping, by his wisdom and moderation, what he had gained by the vigour of his intellect and his undaunted valour. He, too, was happily free from the little vanity which takes more delight in the pomp than in the realities of power, and, provided he possessed the substantial authority, was contented to leave the royal name to others. He must have felt himself strong enough to do what his uncle Grimwald had vainly attempted, and his grandson happily accomplished; but he saw that by grasping at the shadow he might lose the substance. He was surrounded by proud and suspicious seigneurs, whose jealousy would have been more excited by his taking the title than by his exercising the powers of a king; and, strange though it may seem, the reverence for the ancient race, and the notion of their exclusive and inalienable rights, were far from being extinguished in the breasts of the common people. By keeping Thierry upon the throne and ruling in his name, he united both reason and prejudice in support of his government. Yet some approach was made, though probably not by his own desire, towards acknowledged sovereignty in the case of Pepin. He was called _dux et princeps Francorum_, and the years of his office were reckoned, as well as those of the king, in all public documents.

Having fixed the seat of his government in Austrasia, as the more German and warlike portion of his dominions, he named dependents of his own, and subsequently his two sons, Drogo and Grimwald, to rule as mayors in the two other divisions of the empire. He gave the greatest proof of his power and popularity by restoring the assemblies of the Campus Martius, a purely German institution, which under the romanising Merovingian monarchs had gradually declined. At these annual meetings, which were held on the 1st of March, the whole nation assembled for the purpose of discussing measures for the ensuing year. None but a ruler who was conscious of his own strength, and of an honest desire for the welfare of his people, would have voluntarily submitted himself and his actions to the chances of such an ordeal.

As soon as he had firmly fixed himself in his seat, and secured the submission of the envious seigneurs, and the love of the people, who looked to him as the only man who could save them from the evils of anarchy, he turned his attention to the re-establishment of the Frankish Empire in its full extent. The neighbouring tribes, which had with difficulty, and for the most part imperfectly, been subdued by Clovis and his successors, were ready to seize upon every favourable occasion of ridding themselves of the hated yoke. Nor were the poor imbecile boys who bore the name of kings, nor the turbulent mayors and seigneurs who were wholly occupied with plotting and counterplotting, railing and fighting against one another, at all in a position to call the subject states to account, or to excite in them the desire of being incorporated with an empire harassed and torn by intestine dissensions. The Frankish Empire was in process of dissolution, and all the more distant tribes, as the Bavarians, the Alamanni, Frisians, Bretons, and Gascons, had virtually recovered their independence. But this partial decline of the Frankish power was simply the result of misgovernment, and the domestic feuds which absorbed the martial vigour of the nation; and by no means indicated the decline of a military spirit in the Frankish people. They only needed a centre of union and a leader worthy of them, both of which they found in Pepin, to give them once more the hegemony over all the German tribes, and prepare them for the conquest of Europe. The Frisians were subdued, or rather repressed for a time, in 697 A.D., after a gallant resistance under their king Ratbod; and about twelve years afterwards we find the son of Pepin, Grimwald, forming a matrimonial alliance with Theudelinda, daughter of the Frisian monarch; a fact which plainly implies that Pepin desired to cultivate the friendship of his warlike neighbours. The Swabians, or Alamanni, were also attacked and defeated by Pepin on their own territories; but their final subjection was completed by his son Charles Martel.

The wars carried on by Pepin with the above-mentioned nations, to which in this place we can only briefly allude, occupied him nearly twenty years; and were greatly instrumental in preserving peace at home, and consolidating the foundations of the Carlovingian throne. The stubborn resistance he met with from the still heathen Germans, was animated with something of that zeal, against which his great descendant Charlemagne had to contend in his interminable Saxon wars; for the adoption of Christianity, which was hated, not only as being hostile to the superstitions of their forefathers, but on account of the heavy taxes by which it was accompanied, was always made by Pepin the indispensable condition of mercy and peace. But, happily for the cause of Gospel truth, other means were used for the spread of Christianity than the sword and the scourge; and the labours of many a zealous and self-sacrificing missionary from Ireland and England served to convince the rude German tribes that the warrior-priests whom they had met on the battle-field, and the greedy tax-gatherers who infested their homes, were not the true ambassadors of the Prince of peace. And Pepin, who was by no means a mere warrior, was well aware of the value of these peaceful efforts; and afforded zealous aid to all who ventured their lives in the holy cause of human improvement and salvation. The civil governors whom he established in the conquered provinces were directed to do all in their power to promote the spread of Christianity by peaceful means; and, to give effect to his instructions, Pepin warned them that he should hold them responsible for the lives of his pious missionaries.

During these same twenty years, in which Pepin was playing the important and brilliant part assigned to him by providence, the pale and bloodless shadows of four Merovingian kings flit gloomily across the scene. We know little or nothing of them except their names, and the order in which they followed each other. Thierry III died in 691 A.D., and was succeeded by Clovis III, who reigned till 695 A.D. and was followed by Childebert III. On the death of Childebert in 711 A.D., Pepin raised Dagobert III to the nominal throne, where he left him when he himself departed from the scene of his labours and triumphs; and this is really all that we feel called upon to say of the descendants of the conquerors of Gaul and founders of the Western Empire; _inclitum et notum olim, nunc tantum auditur_!

[Sidenote: [714 A.D.]]

(From a French print of 1832)]

The extraordinary power which Pepin exercised at a period when law was weak, and authority extended no further than the sword could reach; when the struggles of the rising feudal aristocracy for independence had convulsed the empire and brought it to the verge of anarchy, sufficiently attests the ability and courage, the wisdom and moderation, with which he ruled. His triumphs over the ancient dynasty, and the Neustrian faction, were far from being the most difficult of his achievements. He had to control the very class to which he himself belonged; to curb the turbulent spirits of the very men who had raised him to his proud pre-eminence; and to establish regal authority over those by whose aid he had humbled the ancient kings: and all this he succeeded in doing by the extraordinary influence of his personal character. So firmly indeed had he established his government, and subdued the wills of the envious seigneurs by whom he was surrounded, that even when he showed his intention of making his power hereditary in his family, they dared not, at the time, oppose his will. On the death of Norbert, major-domus at the court of Childebert III, Pepin--in all probability without even consulting the seigneurs, in whom the right of election rested--appointed his second son Grimwald to the vacant office. To his eldest son Drogo he had already given the mayoralty of Burgundy, with the title of duke of Campania. But though they dared not make any opposition at the time, it is evident from what followed that the fear of Pepin alone restrained the rage they felt at this open usurpation. In 714 A.D., when Pepin’s life was drawing to a close, and he lay at Jupille near Liège upon a bed of sickness, awaiting patiently his approaching end, the great vassals took heart, and conspired to deprive his descendants of the mayoralty. They employed the usual means for effecting their purpose--treachery and murder. Grimwald was assassinated, while praying in the church of St. Lambert at Jupille, by a Frisian of the name of Rantgar, who relied, no doubt, on the complicity of the seigneurs and the weakness of Pepin for impunity. But the conspirators had miscalculated the waning sands of the old warrior’s life, and little knew the effect which the sight of his son’s blood would have upon him. He suddenly recovered from the sickness to which he seemed to be succumbing. Like another Priam, he once more seized his unaccustomed arms, though, unlike the royal Trojan, he used them with terrible effect. After taking an ample revenge upon the murderers of his son, and quenching the spirit of resistance in the blood of the conspirators, he was so far from giving up his purpose, or manifesting any consciousness of weakness, that he nominated the infant and illegitimate son of Grimwald, as if by hereditary right, to the joint mayoralty of Burgundy and Neustria--an office which the highest persons in the land would have been proud to exercise. By his very last act, therefore, he showed the absolute mastery he had obtained, not only over the “do-nothing” kings, but over the factious seigneurs, who shrank in terror before the wrath of one, who had, as it were, repassed the gates of death, to hurl destruction on their heads. His actual demise took place in the same year, on the 16th of December, 714 A.D.

Pepin had two wives, the first of whom, Plectrudis, bore him two sons, Drogo and Grimwald, neither of whom survived their father. In 688 A.D. he married a second wife, the “noble and elegant” Alpaida, though Plectrudis was still alive. From this second marriage sprang the real successor of the Pepins, whom his father named in his own language Karl, and who is renowned in history as Charles Martel, the bulwark of Christendom, the father of kings and emperors.

Our estimate of the personal greatness of the Carlovingian mayors is greatly raised when we observe that each of them in turn, instead of taking quiet possession of what his predecessors had won, has to reconquer his position in the face of numerous, powerful, and exasperated enemies. It was so with Pepin of Landen, with Pepin of Heristal, and most of all in the case of Charles Martel.

THE CAREER OF CHARLES MARTEL (714-732 A.D.)

[Sidenote: [714-717 A.D.]]