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THE FRANKS FROM THEIR
FIRST APPEARANCE IN HISTORY TO THE
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PREFACE.
THE conscientious
man, who knows to what straits even the British Museum is put, by the influx of
unnecessary books, will not lightly write, still less publish, a new work. The Author of the
present volume seeks an excuse in the comparative novelty of his subject, and in the ready access he has
enjoyed to the sources of Frankish history, many of which have only been cleared and rendered available
during the last few years by
able editors and commentators in Germany.
The following pages are the result of studies,
the chief object of which was to gain an insight into the age of Charlemagne.
They are offered to the public in the hope that they may throw some little
light on one of the darkest but not least important ages of the world, when, in
the early dawn of modern history, rude hands sowed the seeds of Christian
civilization.
The Author is well aware that he has chosen a subject which has not been
found generally interesting, which is looked on as the property of the
troubadour or the fabling monk, rather than of genuine history. But he thinks
it a legitimate object of ambition to alter or modify these views. If the glory
of Athens gives a charm to the account of Dorian migrations, and lights up even
the distant flitting shades of Pelasgi and Curetes,
if the gorgeous spectacle of Augustan Rome leads us to watch with interest the
feuds and fortunes of the citizens of a poor and small Italian town, there is
no reason why we should remain indifferent to the primordia of the mighty race
whose annals are the history of modern and Christian Europe, to the origin of
the wonderful political and social world in which it is our lot to live.
Should the present volume meet with any degree
of public favor, the Author hopes to bring forward another, on the life and
times of Charlemagne, to which this work, though complete in itself, might form
a kind of introduction.
For the many defects which will be found in his
book, and of which he is himself fully conscious, the Author begs the
indulgence of his friends, on the ground that he has performed it in the
intervals of a laborious and anxious occupation.
In conclusion, the Author cannot omit thus publicly to express his grateful thanks to Professor Ritschl, and the other librarians of the University of Bonn, for the courtesy and kindness with
which they placed their
valuable library at his disposal.
I.
FROM THE FIRST APPEARANCE OF THE
FRANKS TO THE DEATH OF CLOVIS
(AD. 240-511)
It is
well known that the name of “Frank” is not to be found in the long list of
German tribes preserved to us in the “Germania” of Tacitus. Little or nothing
is heard of them before the reign of Gordian III. In AD 240 Aurelian, then a
tribune of the sixth legion stationed on the Rhine, encountered a body of
marauding Franks near Mayence, and drove them back
into their marshes. The word “Francia” is also found
at a still earlier date, in the old Roman chart called the Charta Peutingeria, and occupies on
the map the right bank of the Rhine from opposite Coblentz to the sea. The
origin of the Franks has been the subject of frequent debate, to which French
patriotism has occasionally lent some asperity. At the time when they first
appear in history, the Romans had neither the taste nor the means for
historical research, and we are therefore obliged to depend in a great measure
upon conjecture and combination. It has been disputed whether the word “Frank”
was the original designation of a tribe, which by a change of habitation
emerged at the period above mentioned into the light of history, or that of a
new league, formed for some common object of aggression or defence,
by nations hitherto familiar to us under other names.
We can in
this place do little more than refer to a controversy, the value and interest
of which has been rendered obsolete by the progress of historical
investigation. The darkness and void of history have as usual been filled with
spectral theories, which vanish at the challenge of criticism and before the
gradually increasing light of knowledge.
We need
hardly say that the origin of the Franks has been traced to fugitive colonists
from Troy; for what nation under Heaven has not sought to connect itself, in
some way or other, with the glorified heroes of the immortal song? Nor is it
surprising that French writers, desirous of transferring from the Germans to
themselves the honors of the Frankish name, should have made of them a tribe of
Gauls, whom some unknown cause had induced to settle in Germany, and who
afterwards sought to recover their ancient country from the Roman conquerors.
At the present day, however, historians of every nation, including the French,
are unanimous in considering the Franks as a powerful confederacy of German
tribes, who in the time of Tacitus inhabited the north-western parts of Germany
bordering on the Rhine. And this theory is so well supported by many scattered
notices, slight in themselves, but powerful when combined, that we can only
wonder that it should ever have been called in question. Nor was this
aggregation of tribes under the new name of Franks a singular instance; the
same took place in the case of the Alemanni and Saxons.
The
actuating causes of these new unions are unknown. They may be sought for either
in external circumstances, such as the pressure of powerful enemies from
without, or in an extension of their own desires and plans, requiring the
command of greater means, and inducing a wider co-operation of those, whose
similarity of language and character rendered it most easy for them to unite.
But perhaps we need look no farther for an efficient cause than the spirit of
amalgamation which naturally arises among tribes of kindred race and language,
when their growing numbers, and an increased facility of moving from place to
place, bring them into more frequent contact. The same phenomenon may be
observed at certain periods in the history of almost every nation, and the
spirit which gives rise to it has generally been found strong enough to
overcome the force of particular interests and petty nationalities.
SICAMBRI AND SALIAN FRANKS.
The
etymology of the name adopted by the new confederacy is also uncertain. The
conjecture which has most probability in its favor is that adopted long ago by
Gibbon, and confirmed in recent times by the authority of Grimm, which connects
it with the German word Frank (free). The derivation preferred by Adelung from frak, with the inserted
nasal, differ of Grimm only in appearance. No small countenance is given to
this derivation by the constant recurrence in after times of the epithet
“truces”, “feroces”, which
the Franks were so fond of applying to themselves, and which they certainly did
everything to deserve. Tacitus speaks of nearly all the tribes, whose various
appellations were afterwards merged in that of Frank, as living in the
neighborhood of the Rhine. Of these the principal were the Sicambri (the chief
people of the old Iscaevonian tribe),
who, as there is reason to believe, were identical with the Salian Franks. The
confederation further comprised the Bructeri,
the Ghamavi, Ansibarii, Tubantes, Marsi,
and Chasuarii, of
whom the five last had formerly belonged to the celebrated Cheruscan league, which,
under the hero Arminius, destroyed three Roman legions in the Teutoburgian Forest. The
strongest evidence of the identity of these tribes with the Franks, is the fact
that, long after their settlement in Gaul, the distinctive names of the
original people were still occasionally used as synonymous with that of the
confederation. The Sicambri are well known in the Roman history for their
active and enterprising spirit, and the determined opposition which they
offered to the greatest generals of Rome. It was on their account that Caesar
bridged the Rhine in the neighborhood of Bonn, and spent eighteen days, as he
informs us with significant minuteness, on the German side of that river.
Drusus made a similar attempt against them with little better success. Tiberius
was the first who obtained any decided advantage over them; and even he, by his
own confession, was obliged to have recourse to treachery. An immense number of
them were then transported by the command of Augustus to the left bank of the
Rhine, “that”, as the Panegyrist expresses it, “they might be compelled to lay
aside not only their arms but their ferocity”. That they were not, however,
even then, so utterly destroyed or expatriated as the flatterers of the Emperor
would have us believe, is evident from the fact that they appear again under the
same name, in less than three centuries afterwards, as the most powerful tribe
in the Frankish confederacy.
The
league thus formed was subject to two strong motives, either of which might
alone have been sufficient to impel a brave and active people into a career of
migration and conquest. The first of these was necessity, the actual want of
the necessaries of life for their increasing population, and the second desire,
excited to the utmost by the spectacle of the wealth and civilization of the
Gallic provinces.
As long
as the Romans held firm possession of Gaul, the Germans could do little to
gratify their longings; they could only obtain a settlement in that country by
the consent of the Emperor and on certain conditions. Examples of such merely
tolerated colonization were the Tribocci,
the Vangiones, and
the Ubii at
Cologne. But when the Roman Empire began to feel the numbness of approaching
dissolution, and, as is usually the case, first in its extremities, the Franks
were amongst the most active and successful assailants of their enfeebled foe:
and if they were attracted towards the West by the abundance they beheld of all
that could relieve their necessities and gratify their lust of spoil, they were
also impelled in the same direction by the Saxons, the rival league, a people
as brave and perhaps more barbarous than themselves. A glance at the map of
Germany of that period will do much to explain to us the migration of the
Franks, and that long and bloody feud between them and the Saxons, which began
with the Gatti and Cherusci and needed all the power and energy of a
Charlemagne to bring to a successful close. The Saxons formed behind the
Franks, and could only reach the provinces of Gaul by sea. It was natural
therefore that they should look with the intensest hatred upon a people who barred
their progress to a more genial climate and excluded them from their share in
the spoils of the Roman world.
PROGRESS OF THE FRANKS IN GAUL.
The
Franks advanced upon Gaul from two different directions, and under the
different names of Salians, and Ripuarians, the former of whom we have reason
to connect more particularly with the Sicambrian tribe. The origin of the words Salian and Ripuarian, which are first used
respectively by Ammianus Marcellinus and Jordanes,
is very obscure, and has served to exercise the ingenuity of ethnographers.
There are, however, no sufficient grounds for a decided opinion. At the same
time it is by no means improbable that the river Yssel, Isala or Sal (for it has borne all these
appellations), may have given its name to that portion of the Franks who lived
along its course. With still greater probability may the name Ripuarii or Riparii,
be derived from Ripa, a term used by the
Romans to signify the Rhine. These dwellers on the Bank were those that
remained in their ancient settlements while their Salian kinsmen were advancing
into the heart of Gaul.
It would
extend the introductory portion of this work beyond its proper limits to refer,
however briefly, to all the successive efforts of the Franks to gain a
permanent footing upon Roman ground. Though often defeated, they perpetually
renewed the contest; and when Roman historians and panegyrists inform us that
the whole nation was several times “utterly destroyed” the numbers and
geographical position in which we find them a short time after every such
annihilation, prove to us the vanity of such accounts. Aurelian, as we have
seen, defeated them at Mayence, in AD 242,
and drove them into the swamps of Holland. They were routed again about twelve
years afterwards by Gallienus; but they quickly recovered from this blow, for
in AD 276
we find them in possession of sixty Gallic cities, of which Probus is said to have deprived them, and to have
destroyed 400,000 of them and their allies on Roman ground. In AD 280,
they gave their aid to the usurper Proculus,
who claimed to be of Frankish blood, but was nevertheless betrayed by them; and
in AD 288,
Carausius the Menapian was
sent to clear the seas of their roving barks. But the latter found it more
agreeable to shut his eyes to their piracies, in return for a share of the
booty, and they afterwards aided in protecting him from the chastisement due to
his treachery, and in investing him with the imperial purple in Britain.
In the
reign of Maximian, we find a Frankish army, probably of Ripuarians, at Treves,
where they were defeated by that emperor; and both he and Diocletian adopted
the title of “Francicus”,
which many succeeding emperors were proud to bear. The first appearance of the
Salian Franks, with whom this history is chiefly concerned, is in the
occupation of the Batavian Islands, in the Lower Rhine. They were attacked in
that territory in ad 292, by Constantius Chlorus, who, as is said, not only drove them out
of Batavia, but marched, triumphant and unopposed, through their own country as
far as the Danube. The latter part of this story has little foundation either
in history or probability.
The more
determined and successful resistance to their progress was made by Constantine
the Great, in the first part of the fourth century. We must, however, receive
the extravagant accounts of the imperial annalists with considerable caution.
It is evident, even from their own language, that the great
emperor effected more by stratagem than by force. He found the Salians once
more in Batavia, and, after defeating them in a great battle, carried off a
large number of captives to Treves, the chief residence of the emperor, and a
rival of Rome itself in the splendor of its public buildings.
It was in
the circus of this city, and in the presence of Constantine, that the notorious
“Ludi Francici” were celebrated; at
which several thousand Franks, including their kings Regaisus and Ascaricus, were compelled to fight with wild
beasts, to the inexpressible delight of the Christian spectators. “Those of the
Frankish prisoners”, says Eumenius, “whose perfidy
unfitted them for military service, and their ferocity for servitude, were
given to the wild beasts as a show, and wearied the raging monsters by their
multitude”. “This magnificent spectacle” Nazarius praises, some twenty years after it had taken place, in the most enthusiastic
terms, comparing Constantine to a youthful Hercules who had strangled two
serpents in the cradle of his empire. Eumenius calls
it a “daily and eternal victory”, and says that Constantine had erected terror
as a bulwark against his barbarian enemies. This terror did not, however,
prevent the Franks from taking up arms to revenge their butchered countrymen,
nor the Alemanni from joining in the insurrection. The skill and fortune of
Constantine generally prevailed; he destroyed great numbers of the Franks and
the “innumeroe gentes” who fought on their
side, and really appears for a time to have checked their progress.
It is
impossible to read the brief yet confused account of these incessant encounters
between the Romans and Barbarians, without coming to the conclusion that only
half the truth is told; that while every advantage gained by the former is
greatly exaggerated, the successes of the latter are passed over in silence.
The most glorious victory of a Roman general procures him only a few months
repose, and the destruction of “hundreds of thousands” of Franks and Alemanni
seems but to increase their numbers. We may fairly say of the Franks, what
Julian and Eutropius have said respecting the Goths, that they were not so
utterly annihilated as the panegyrists pretend, and that many of the victories
gained over them cost “more money than blood”.
The death
of Constantine was the signal for a fresh advance on the part of the Franks.
Libanius, the Greek rhetorician, when extolling the deeds of Constans, the
youngest son of Constantine the Great, says that the emperor stemmed the
impetuous torrent of barbarians “by a love of war even greater than their own”.
He also says that they received overseers; but this was no doubt on Roman
ground, which would account for their submission, as we know that the Franks
were more solicitous about real than nominal possession. During the frequent
struggles for the Purple which took place at this period, the aid of the Franks
was sought for by the different pretenders, and rewarded, in case of success,
by large grants of land within the limits of the empire. The barbarians
consented, in fact, to receive as a gift what had really been won by their own
valor, and could not have been withheld. Even previous to the reign of
Constantine, some Frankish generals had risen to high posts in the service of Roman
emperors. Magnentius, himself a German, endeavored to support his usurpation by
Frankish and Saxon mercenaries; and Silvanus, who was driven into rebellion by
the ingratitude of Constantius, whom he had faithfully served, was a Frank.
The state
of confusion into which the empire was thrown by the turbulence and insolence
of the Roman armies, and the selfish ambition of their leaders, was highly
favorable to the progress of the Franks in Gaul. Their next great and general
movement took place in ad 355, when, along the whole Roman frontier from
Strasburg to the sea, they began to cross the Rhine, and to throw themselves in
vast numbers upon the Gallic provinces, with the full determination of forming
permanent settlements. But again the relenting fates of Rome raised up a hero
in the person of the Emperor Julian, worthy to have lived in the most glorious
period of her history. After one or two unsuccessful efforts, Julian succeeded
in retaking Cologne and other places, which the Germans, true to their
traditionary hatred of walled towns, had laid bare of all defenses.
In the
last general advance of the Franks in ad 355, the Salians had not only once
more recovered Batavia, but had spread into Toxandria,
in which they firmly fixed themselves. It is important to mark the date of this
event, because it was at this time that the Salians made their first permanent
settlement on the left bank of the Rhine, and by the acquisition of Toxandria laid the foundation of the kingdom of Clovis.
Julian indeed attacked them there in ad 358, but he had probably good reasons
for not reducing them to despair, as we find that they were permitted to retain
their newly acquired lands, on condition of acknowledging themselves subjects
of the empire.
He was
better pleased to have them as soldiers than as enemies, and they, having felt
the weight of his arm, were by no means averse to serve in his ranks, and to
enrich themselves by the plunder of the East. Once in undisputed possession of Toxandria, they gradually spread themselves further and
further, until, at the beginning of the fifth century, we find them occupying
the left bank of the Rhine; as may safely be inferred from the fact that Tongres, Arras, and Amiens are
mentioned as the most northern of the Roman stations. At this time they
reached Tournai, which became henceforth the
chief town of the Salian Franks. The Ripuarians, meanwhile, were extending
themselves from Andernach downwards
along the middle Rhine, and gained possession of Cologne about the time of the
conquest of Tournai by their Salian
brethren. On the left of the river they held all that part of Germania Secunda which was not
occupied by the Salians. In Belgica Secunda, they spread themselves
as far as the Moselle, but were not yet in
possession of Treves, as we gather from the frequent assaults made by them upon
that city. The part of Gaul therefore now subject to the Ripuarians was bounded
on the north-west by the Silva Carbonaria,
or Kolhenwald; on the
south-west by the Meuse and the forest of Ardennes; and on the south by
the Moselle.
We shall
be the less surprised that some of the fairest portions of the Roman Empire
should thus fall an almost unresisting prey to barbarian invaders, when we
remember that the defence of the empire itself was
sometimes committed to the hands of Frankish soldiers. Those of the Franks who
were already settled in Gaul, were often engaged in endeavoring to drive back
the ever-increasing multitude of fresh barbarians, who hurried across the Rhine
to share in the bettered fortunes of their kinsmen, or even to plunder them of
their newly-acquired riches. Thus Mallobaudes,
who is called king of the Franks, and held the office of Domesticorum Comes under
Gratian, commanded in the Imperial army which defeated the Alemanni at Argentaria. And, again, in the short reign of Maximus, who
assumed the purple in Gaul, Spain, and Britain, near the end of the fourth
century, we are told that three Frankish kings, Genobaudes, Marcomeres, and Sunno, crossed the Lower Rhine, and plundered the
country along the river as far as Cologne; although the whole of Northern Gaul
was already in possession of their countrymen. The generals Nonnius and Quintinus, whom Maximus had left
behind him at Treves, the seat of the Imperial government in Gaul, hastened to
Cologne, from which the marauding Franks had already retired with their
booty. Quintinus crossed
the Rhine, in pursuit, at Neus,
and, unmindful of the fate of Varus in
the Teutoburgian wood,
followed the retreating enemy into the morasses. The Franks, once more upon
friendly and familiar ground, turned upon their pursuers, and are said to have
destroyed nearly the whole Roman army with poisoned arrows.
The war
continued, and was only brought to a successful conclusion for the Romans by
the courage and conduct of Arbogastes,
a Frank in the service of Theodosius. Unable to make peace with his barbarous
countrymen, and sometimes defeated by them, this general crossed the Rhine when
the woods were leafless, ravaged the country of the Chamavi, Bructeri,
and Catti, and having slain two of their chiefs
named Priam and Genobaudes,
compelled Marcomeres and Sunno to give hostages. The
submission of the Franks must have been of short continuance, for we read that
in ad 398 these same kings, Marcomeres and Sunno, were again found ravaging
the left bank of the Rhine by Stilicho. This famous warrior defeated them
in a great battle, and sent the former, or perhaps both of them, in chains to
Italy, where Marcomeres died
in prison.
The first
few years of the fifth century are occupied in the struggle between Alaric the
Goth and Stilicho, which ended in the sacking of Rome by the former in the year
410 ad, the same in which he died.
While the
Goths were inflicting deadly wounds on the very heart of the empire, the
distant provinces of Germany and Gaul presented a scene of indescribable
confusion. Innumerable hosts of Astingians,
Vandals, Alani, Suevi, and Burgundians, threw
themselves like robbers upon the prostrate body of Imperial Rome, and scrambled
for the gems which fell from her costly diadem. In such a storm the Franks
could no longer sustain the part of champions of the empire, but doubtless had
enough to do to defend themselves and hold their own. We can only guess at the
fortune which befell the nations in that dark period, from the state in which
we find them when the glimmering light of history once more dawns upon the
chaos.
PHARAMOND A MYTHICAL PERSONAGE
Of the
internal state of the Frankish league in these times, we learn from ancient
authorities absolutely nothing on which we can safely depend. The blank is
filled up by popular fable. It is in this period, about 417 ad, that the reign
of Pharamond is placed, of whom we may more than
doubt whether he ever existed at all. To this hero was afterwards
ascribed, not only the permanent conquests made at this juncture by the various
tribes of Franks, but the establishment of the monarchy, and the collection and
publication of the well-known Salic laws.
The sole foundation for this complete and harmonious fabric is a passage
interpolated into an ancient chronicle of the fifth century; and, with this
single exception, Pharamond’s name
is never mentioned before the seventh century. The whole story is perfected and
rounded off by the author of the “Gesta Francorum”,
according to whom, Pharamond was the son of Marcomeres, the prince who
ended his days in the Italian prison. The fact that nothing is known
of him by Gregory of Tours or Fredegarius is
sufficient to prevent our regarding him as an historical personage. To this may
be added that he is not mentioned in the prologue of the Salic law, with which his name has been so intimately
associated by later writers.
Though
well authenticated names of persons and places fail us at this time, it is not
difficult to conjecture what must have been the main facts of the case. Great
changes took place among the Franks, in the first half of the fifth century,
which did much to prepare them for their subsequent career. The greater portion
of them had been mere marauders, like their German brethren of other nations:
they now began to assume the character of settlers; and as the idea of founding
an extensive empire was still far from their thoughts, they occupied in
preference the lands which lay nearest to their ancient homes. There are many
incidental reasons which make this change in their mode of life a natural and
inevitable one. The country whose surface had once afforded a rich and easily
collected booty, and well repaid the hasty foray of weeks, and even days, had
been stripped of its movable wealth by repeated incursions of barbarians still
fiercer than themselves. All that was above the surface the Alan and the Vandal
had swept away, the treasures which remained had to be sought for with the
plough. The Franks were compelled to turn their attention to that agriculture
which their indolent and warlike fathers had hated; which required fixed
settlements, and all the laws of property and person indissolubly connected therewith.
Again, though there is no sufficient reason to connect the Salic laws with the mythical name of Pharamond, or to suppose that they were altogether the work
of this age (since we know from Tacitus that the Germans had similar laws in
their ancient forests), yet it is very probable was insufficiently defended, he
advanced upon that city, and succeeded in taking it. After spending a few days
within the walls of his new acquisition, he marched as far as the river Somme.
His progress was checked by Aetius and Majorian, who surprised him in the
neighborhood of Arras, at a place called Helena (Lens), while celebrating a
marriage, and forced him to retire. Yet at the end of the war, the Franks
remained in full possession of the country which Clodion had overrun; and the
Somme became the boundary of the Salian land upon the south-west, as it
continued to be until the time of Clovis.
Clodion
died in AD 448, and was thus saved from the equally
pernicious alliance or enmity of the ruthless conqueror Attila. This “Scourge
of God”, as he delighted to be called, appeared in Gaul about the year 450 AD,
at the head of an innumerable host of mounted Huns; a race so singular in their
aspect and habits as to seem scarcely human, and compared with whom, the
wildest Franks and Goths must have appeared rational and civilized beings.
FRANKS AT CHÂLONS.
The time
of Attila’s descent upon the Rhine was well chosen for the prosecution of his
scheme of universal dominion. Between the fragment of the Roman Empire,
governed by Aetius, and the Franks under the successors of Clodion, there was
either open war or a hollow truce. The succession to the chief power in the
Salian tribe was the subject of a violent dispute between two Frankish princes,
the elder of whom is supposed by some to have been called Merovaeus. We have seen reason
to doubt the existence of a prince of this name; and there is no evidence that
either of the rival candidates was a son of Clodion. Whatever their parentage
or name may have been, the one took part with Attila, and the other with the Roman
Aetius, on condition, no doubt, of having their respective claims allowed and
supported by their allies. In the bloody and decisive battle of the Catalaunian Fields round
Châlons, Franks, under the name of Leti and Ripuarii, served under the
so-called Merovaeus in
the army of Aetius, together with Theoderic and
his Visigoths. Among the forces of Attila another body of Franks was arrayed,
either by compulsion, or instigated to this unnatural course by the fierce
hatred of party spirit. From the result of the battle of Châlons, we must
suppose that the ally of Aetius succeeded to the throne of Clodion.
The
effects of the invasion of Gaul by Attila were neither great nor lasting, and
his retreat left the German and Roman parties in much the same condition as he
found them. The Roman Empire indeed was at an end in that province, yet the
valor and wisdom of Egidius enabled him to maintain,
as an independent chief, the authority which he had faithfully exercised, as
Master-General of Gaul, under the noble and virtuous Magorian.
The extent of his territory is not clearly defined, but it must have been, in
part at least, identical with that of which his son and successor, Syagrius,
was deprived by Clovis. Common opinion limits this to the country between the
Oise, the Marne, and the Seine, to which some writers have added Auxerre and
Troyes. The respect in which Egidius was held by the
Franks, as well as his own countrymen, enabled him to set at defiance the
threats and machinations of the barbarian Ricimer, who virtually ruled at Rome,
though in another's name. The strongest proof of the high opinion they
entertained of the merits of Egidius, is said to have
been given by the Salians in the reign of their next king. The prince, to whom
the name Merovaeus has been arbitrarily assigned, was
succeeded by his son Childeric, in ad 456. The conduct of this licentious youth
was such as to disgust and alienate his subjects, who had not yet ceased to
value female honor, nor adopted the loose manners of the Romans and their
Gallic imitators. The authority of the Salian kings over the fierce warriors of
their tribe was held by a precarious tenure. The loyalty which distinguished
the Franks in later times had not yet arisen in their minds, and they did not
scruple to send the corrupter of their wives and daughters into ignominious
exile. Childeric took refuge with Bissinus(or Bassinus), king of the Thuringians, a people dwelling on
the river Unstrut. It was then that the Franks,
according to the somewhat improbable account of Gregory, unanimously chose Egidius for their king, and actually submitted to his rule
for the space of eight years. At the end of that period, returning affection
for their native prince, the mere love of change, or the machinations of a
party, induced the Franks to recall Childeric from exile, or, at all events, to
allow him to return. Whatever may have been the cause of his restoration, it
does not appear to have been the consequence of an improvement in his morals.
The period of his exile had been characteristically employed in the seduction
of Basina, the wife of his hospitable protector at the Thuringian Court. This
royal lady, whose character may perhaps do something to diminish the guilt of
Childeric in our eyes, was unwilling to be left behind on the restoration of
her lover to his native country. Scarcely had he re-established his authority
when he was unexpectedly followed by Basina, whom he immediately married. The
offspring of this questionable alliance was Clovis, who was born in the year
466. The remainder of Childeric’s reign was chiefly spent in a struggle with
the Visigoths, in which Franks and Romans, under their respective leaders,
Childeric and Egidius, were amicably united against
the common foe.
“THE ELDEST SON OF THE CHURCH” - DIVISIONS OF GAUL.
We hasten
to the reign of Clovis, who, during a rule of about thirty years, not only
united the various tribes of Franks under one powerful dynasty, and founded a
kingdom in Gaul on a broad and enduring basis, but made his throne the centre of union to by far the greater portion of the whole
German race.
When
Clovis succeeded his father as king of the Salians, at the early age of
fifteen, the extent of his territory and the number of his subjects were, as we
know, extremely small; at his death, he left to his successors a kingdom more
extensive than that of modern France.
The
influence of the grateful partiality discernible in the works of Catholic
historians and chroniclers towards “the Eldest Son of the Church”, who secured
for them the victory over heathens on the one side, and heretics on the other,
prevents us from looking to them for an unbiassed estimate
of his character. Many of his crimes appeared to be committed in the cause of
Catholicity itself, and these they could hardly see in their proper light.
Pagans and Arians would have painted him in different colors; and had any of
their works come down to us, we might have sought the truth between the
positive of partiality and the negative of hatred. But fortunately, while the
chroniclers praise his actions in the highest terms, they tell us what those
actions were, and thus compel us to form a very different judgment from their
own. It would not be easy to extract from the pages of his greatest admirers
the slightest evidence of his possessing any qualities but those which are
necessary to a conqueror. In the hands of Providence he was an instrument of
the greatest good to the country he subdued, inasmuch as he freed it from the
curse of division into petty states, and furthered the spread of Christianity
in the very heart of Europe. But of any word or action that could make us
admire or love the man, there is not a single trace in history. His undeniable
courage is debased by a degree of cruelty unusual even in his times; and the
consummate skill and prudence, which did more to raise him to his high position
than even his military qualities, are rendered odious by the forms they take of
unscrupulous falsehood, meanness, cunning and hypocrisy.
It will
add to the perspicuity of our brief narrative of the conquests of Clovis, if we
pause for a moment to consider the extent and situation of the different
portions into which Gaul was divided at his accession.
There
were in all six independent states: 1st, that of the Salians; 2nd, that of the
Ripuarians; 3rd, that of the Visigoths; 4th, that of the Burgundians; 5th, the
kingdom of Syagrius; and, 6th, Armorica (by which the whole sea-coast between
Seine and Loire was then signified). Of the two first we have already spoken.
The Visigoths held the whole of Southern Gaul. Their boundary to the north was
the river Loire, and to the east the Pagus Vellavus (Auvergne).
The
boundary of the Burgundians on the side of Roman Gaul, was the Pagus Lingonicus (Upper Marne); to the west they
were bounded by the territory of the Visigoths, as above described.
The
territory still held by the Romans was divided into two parts, of which the one
was held by Syagrius, who, according to common opinion, only ruled the country
between Oise, Marne, and Seine; to this some writers have added Auxerre,
Troyes, and Orleans. The other — viz., that portion of Roman Gaul not subject
to Syagrius—is of uncertain extent. Armorica (Bretagne and Maine), was an
independent state, inhabited by Britons and Saxons; but what was its form of
government is not exactly known. It is important to bear these geographical
divisions in mind, because they coincide with the successive Frankish conquests
made under Clovis and his sons.
CLOVIS ATTACKS SYAGRIUS.
It would
be unphilosophical to ascribe to Clovis a
preconceived plan of making himself master of these several independent states,
and of not only overthrowing the sole remaining pillar of the Roman Empire in
Gaul, but, what was far more difficult, of subduing other German tribes, as
fierce and independent, and in some cases more numerous than his own. In what
he did, he was merely gratifying a passion for the excitements of war and
acquisition, and that desire of expanding itself to its utmost limits, which is
natural to every active, powerful, and imperious mind. He must indeed have
been more than human to foresee, through all the obstacles that lay in his
path, the career he was destined by Providence to run. He was not even master
of the whole Salian tribe; and besides the Salians, there were other Franks on
the Rhine, the Scheldt, the Meuse, and the Moselle,
in no way inferior to his own subjects, and governed by kings of the same
family as himself. Nor was Syagrius, to whom the anomalous power of his father Egidius had descended, a despicable foe. His merits,
indeed, were rather those of an able lawyer and a righteous judge than of a
warrior; but he had acquired by his civil virtues a reputation which made him
an object of envy to Clovis, who dreaded perhaps the permanent establishment of
a Roman dynasty in Gaul. There were reasons for attacking Syagrius first, which
can hardly have escaped the cunning of Clovis, and which doubtless guided him
in the choice of his earliest victim. The very integrity of the noble Roman’s
character was one of these reasons. Had Clovis commenced the work of
destruction by attacking his kinsmen Sigebert of Cologne and Ragnachar of Cambrai, he would not only have received no
aid from Syagrius in his unrighteous aggression, but might have found him ready
to oppose it. But against Syagrius it was easy for Clovis to excite the
national spirit of his brother Franks, both in and out of his own territory. In
such an expedition, even had the kings declined to take an active part, he
might reckon on crowds of volunteers from every Frankish gau.
As soon
therefore as he had emerged from the forced inactivity of extreme youth (a
period in which, fortunately for him, he was left undisturbed by his less
grasping and unscrupulous neighbors), he determined to bring the question of
pre-eminence between the Franks and Romans to as early an issue as possible.
Without waiting for a plausible ground of quarrel, he challenged Syagrius,
more Germanico, to
the field, that their respective fates might be determined by the God of
Battles. Ragnachar of Cambrai was solicited to
accompany his treacherous relative on this expedition, and agreed to do
so. Ghararich,
another Frankish prince, whose alliance had been looked for, preferred waiting
until fortune had decided, with the prudent intention of siding with the
winner, and coming fresh into the field in time to spoil the vanquished.
Syagrius
was at Soissons, which he had inherited from his father, when Clovis, with
characteristic decision and rapidity, passed through the wood of Ardennes, and
fell upon him with resistless force. The Roman was completely defeated, and the
victor, having taken possession of Soissons, Rheims, and other Roman towns in
the Belgica Secunda,
extended his frontier to the river Loire, the boundary of the Visigoths. This
battle took place in ad 486.
We know
little or nothing of the materials of which the Roman army was composed. If it
consisted entirely of Gauls, accustomed to depend on Roman aid, and destitute
of the spirit of freemen, the ease with which Syagrius was defeated will cause
us less surprise. Having lost all in a single battle, the unfortunate Roman
fled for refuge to Toulouse, the court of Alaric, king of the Visigoths, who
basely yielded him to the threats of the youthful conqueror. But one fate
awaited those who stood in the way of Clovis: Syagrius was immediately put to
death, less in anger, than from the calculating policy which guided all the
movements of the Salian’s unfeeling heart.
During
the next ten years after the death of Syagrius, there is less to relate of
Clovis than might be expected from the commencement of his career. We cannot
suppose that such a spirit was really at rest: he was probably nursing his
strength, and watching his opportunities; for, with all his impetuosity, he was
not a man to engage in an undertaking without good assurance of success.
Almost
the only expedition of this inactive period of his life, is one recorded in a
doubtful passage by Gregory of Tours, as having been made against the Tongrians. This people lived in
the ancient country of the Eburones, on the
Elbe, and had formerly been subjects of his mother Basina.
The Tongrians were
defeated, and their territory was, nominally at least, incorporated with the
kingdom of Clovis.
ALEMANNI DEFEATED AT ZÜLPICH - CONVERSION OF CLOVIS.
In the
year 496 A.D. the Salians began that career of
conquest, which they followed up with scarcely any intermission until the death
of their warrior king.
The
Alemanni, extending themselves from their original seats on the right bank of
the Rhine, between the Main and the Danube, had pushed forward into Germanica Prima, where they came into collision with
the Frankish subjects of King Sigebert of Cologne. Clovis flew to the assistance
of his kinsman, and defeated the Alemanni in a great battle in the neighborhood
of Zülpich. He then established a considerable number
of his Franks in the territory of the Alamanni,
the traces of whose residence are found in the names of Franconia and Frankfort.
The same
year is rendered remarkable in ecclesiastical history by the conversion of
Clovis to Christianity. In AD 493, he had married Clothildis, Chilperic the king of Burgundy’s daughter, who, being herself a Christian, was naturally
anxious to turn away her warlike spouse from the rude faith of his forefathers.
The real result of her endeavors it is impossible to estimate, but, at all
events, she has not received from history the credit of success. The mere
suggestions of an affectionate wife would be considered as too simple and
prosaic a means of accounting for a change involving such mighty consequences.
The conversion of Clovis was so vitally important to the interests of the
Catholic Church, that the chroniclers of that wonder-loving age, profuse in the
employment of extraordinary means for the smallest ends, could never be brought
to believe that this great event was the result of anything but a miracle of
the most public and striking character.
The way
in which the convictions of Clovis were changed is unknown to us, but there
were natural agencies at work, and his conversion is not, under the
circumstances, a thing to excite surprise. According to the common belief,
however, in the Roman Church, it was in the battle of Zülpich that the heart of Clovis, callous to the pious solicitude of his wife, and the
powerful and alluring influence of the catholic ritual, was touched by a
special interposition of Providence in his behalf. When the fortune of the
battle seemed turning against him, he thought of the God whom his wife adored,
of whose power and majesty he had heard so much, and vowed that if he escaped
the present danger, and came off victorious, he would suffer himself to be
baptized, and become the champion of the Christian Faith. Like another
Constantine, he saw written on the face of Heaven that his prayer was heard; he
conquered, and fulfilled his promise at Christmas in the same year, when Remigius at Rheims, with three thousand of his
followers.
The
sincerity of Clovis’s conversion has been called in
question for many reasons, such as the unsuit ability of his subsequent life to
Christian principles, but chiefly on the ground of the many political
advantages to be derived from a public profession of the Catholic Faith. We are
too ready with such explanations of the actions of distinguished characters,
too apt to forget that politicians are also men, and to overlook the very
powerful influences which lie nearer to their hearts than even political
calculation. A spirit was abroad in the world, drawing men away from the graves
of a dead faith to the life and light of the Gospel, a spirit which not even
the coldest and sternest heart could altogether resist. There was something,
too, peculiarly imposing in the attitude of the Christian Church at that
period. All else in the Roman world seemed dying of mere weakness and old
age—the Christian Church was still in the vigour of
youth, and its professors were animated by indomitable perseverance and
boundless zeal. All else fell down in terror before the Barbarian conqueror—the
fabric of the Church seemed indestructible, and its ministers stood erect in
his presence, as if depending for strength and aid upon a power, which was the
more terrible, because indefinite in its nature and uncertain in its mode of
operation.
Nor were
there wanting to the Catholic Church, even at that stage of its development,
those external means of influence which tell with peculiar force upon the
barbarous and untutored mind. The emperors of the Roman world had reared its
temples, adorned its shrines, and regulated its services, in a manner which
seemed to them best suited to the majesty of Heaven and their own. Its altars
were served by men distinguished by their learning, and by that indestructible
dignity of deportment, which is derived from conscious superiority. The praises
of God were chanted forth in well-chosen words and impressive tones, or sung in
lofty strains by tutored voices; while incense rose to the vaulted aisle, as if
to bear the prayers of the kneeling multitude to the very gates of Paradise.
And
Clovis was as likely to be worked upon by such means as the meanest of his
followers. We must not suppose that the discrepancy between his Christian
profession and his public and private actions, which we discern so clearly, was
equally evident to himself. How should it be so? His own conscience was not
specially enlightened beyond the measure of his age. The bravest warriors of
his nation hailed him as a patriot and hero, and the ministers of God assured
him that his victories were won in the service of Truth and Heaven. It is
always dangerous to judge of the sincerity of men’s religious—perhaps we should
say theological—convictions by the tenor of their moral conduct, and this even
in our own age and nation; but far more so in respect to men of other times and
countries, at a different stage of civilization and religious development, at
which the scale of morality was not only lower, but differently graduated from
our own.
The
conscience of a Clovis remained undisturbed in the midst of deeds whose
enormity makes us shudder; and, on the other band, how trivial in our eyes are
some of those offences which loaded him with the heaviest sense of guilt! The
eternal laws of the God of justice and mercy might be broken with impunity; and
what we should call the basest treachery and the most odious cruelty, employed
to compass the destruction of an heretical or pagan enemy; but woe to him who
offended St. Martin, or laid a finger on the property of the meanest of his
servants! When Clovis was seeking to gratify his lust of power, he believed, no
doubt, that he was at the same time fighting under the banner of Christ, and
destroying the enemies of God. And no wonder, for many a priest and bishop
thought the same, and told him what they thought.
We are,
however, far from affirming that the political advantages to be gained from an
open avowal of the Catholic Faith at this juncture escaped the notice of so
astute a mind as that of Clovis. No one was more sensible of those advantages
than he was. The immediate consequences were indeed apparently disastrous. He
was himself fearful of the effect which his change of religion might have upon
his Franks, and we are told that many of them left him and joined his
kinsman Ragnarich.
But the ill effects, though immediate, were slight and transient, while the
good results went on accumulating from year to year. In the first place, his
baptism into the Catholic Church conciliated for him the zealous affection of
his Gallo-Roman subjects, whose number and wealth, and, above all, whose
superior knowledge and intelligence, rendered their aid of the utmost value.
With respect to his own Franks, we are justified in supposing that, removed as
they were from the sacred localities with which their faith was intimately
connected, they either viewed the change with indifference, or, wavering
between old associations and present influences, needed only the example of the
king to decide their choice, and induce them to enlist under the banner of the
Cross.
The
German neighbors of Clovis had either preserved their ancient faith or adopted
the Arian heresy. His conversion therefore was advantageous or disadvantageous
to him, as regarded them, according to the objects he had in view. Had he
really desired to live with his compatriot kings on terms of equality and
friendship, his reception into a hostile Church would certainly not have
furthered his views. But nothing was more foreign to his thoughts than
friendship and alliance with any of the neighboring tribes. His desire was to
reduce them all to a state of subjection to himself. He had the genuine spirit
of the conqueror, which cannot brook the sight of independence; and his keen
intellect and unflinching boldness enabled him to see his advantages and to turn
them to the best account.
Even in
those countries in which Heathenism or Arian Christianity prevailed, there was
generally a zealous and united community of Catholic Christians (including all
the Romance inhabitants), who, being outnumbered and sometimes persecuted, were
inclined to look for aid abroad. Clovis became by his conversion the object of
hope and attachment to such a party in almost every country on the continent of
Europe. He had the powerful support of the whole body of the Catholic clergy, in
whose hearts the interests of their Church far outweighed all other
considerations. In other times and lands (in our own for instance) the spirit
of loyalty and the love of country have often sufficed to counteract the
influence of theological opinions, and have made men patriots in the hour of
trial, when their spiritual allegiance to an alien head tempted them to be
traitors. But what patriotism could Gallo-Romans feel, who for ages had been
the slaves of slaves? or what loyalty to barbarian oppressors, whom they
despised as well as feared?
The happy
effects of Clovis’s conversion were not long in
showing themselves. In the very next year after that event (AD 497) the Armoricans, inhabiting the country between the Seine and
Loire, who had stoutly defended themselves against the heathen Franks,
submitted with the utmost readiness to the royal convert whom bishops delighted
to honor; and in almost every succeeding struggle the advantages he derived
from the strenuous support of the Catholic party become more and more clearly
evident.
STRUGGLE WITH THE VISIGOTHS - BATTLE OF VOUGLÉ
In ad 500
Clovis reduced the Burgundians to a state of semi-dependence, after a fierce
and bloody battle with Gundobald, their king, at
Dijon on the Ousche.
In this conflict, as in almost every other, Clovis attained his ends in a great
measure by turning to account the dissensions of his enemies. Gundobald had called upon his brother Godegisil, who ruled over one
division of their tribe, to aid him in repelling the attack of the Franks. The
call was answered, in appearance at least; but in the decisive struggle Godegisil, according to a secret
understanding, deserted with all his forces to the enemy. Gundobald was of course defeated, and submitted to conditions which, however galling to
his pride and patriotism, could not have been very severe, since we find him
immediately afterwards punishing the treachery of his brother, whom be besieged
in the city of Vienne, and put to death in an Arian Church.
The circumstances
of the times, rather than the moderation of Clovis, prevented him from calling Gundobald to account. A far more arduous struggle was at
hand, which needed all the wily Salian’s resources
of power and policy to bring to a successful issue—the struggle with the
powerful king and people of the Visigoths, whose immediate neighbor he had
become after the voluntary submission of the Armoricans in
AD497. The valor and conduct of their renowned king Euric had put the Western
Goths in full possession of all that portion of Gaul which lay between the
rivers Loire and Rhone, together with nearly the whole of Spain. That
distinguished monarch had lately been succeeded by his son Alaric II, who was
now in the flower of youth. It was in the war with this ill-starred prince—the
most difficult and doubtful in which he had been engaged—that Clovis
experienced the full advantages of his recent change of faith. King Euric, who
was an Arian, wise and great as he appears to have been in many respects, had
alienated the affections of multitudes of his people by persecuting the
Catholic minority; and though the same charge does not appear to lie against
Alaric, it is evident that the hearts of his orthodox subjects beat with no
true allegiance towards their heretical king. The baptism of Clovis had turned
their eyes towards him, as one who would not only free them from the
persecution of their theological enemies, but procure for them and their Church
a speedy victory and a secure predominance. The hopes they had formed, and the
aid they were ready to afford him, were not unknown to Clovis, whose eager
rapacity was only checked by the consideration of the part which his
brother-in-law Theoderic,
King of the Ostrogoths, was likely to take in the matter. This great and
enlightened Goth, whose refined magnificence renders the contemptuous sense in
which we use the term Gothic more than usually inappropriate, was ever ready to
mediate between kindred tribes of Germans, whom on every suitable occasion he
exhorted to live in unity, mindful of their common origin. He is said on this
occasion to have brought about a meeting between Clovis and Alaric on a small
island in the Loire in the neighborhood of Amboise. The story is very doubtful,
to say the least. Had he done so much, he would probably have done more, and
have shielded his youthful kinsman with his strong right arm. Whatever he did
was done in vain. The Frankish conqueror knew his own advantages and determined
to use them to the utmost. He received the aid not only of his kinsman Sigebert
of Cologne, who sent an army to his support under Ghararich, but of the king of the Burgundians, who
was also a Catholic. With an army thus united by a common faith, inspired by
religious zeal, and no less so by the Frankish love of booty, Clovis marched to
almost certain victory over an inexperienced leader and a kingdom divided
against itself.
It is
evident from the language of Gregory of Tours, 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 favor 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
favorable 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 Vouglé,
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, where Clovis passed the winter, while
Theodoric, his son, was overrunning Auvergne, Quincy, and Rovergne. 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 Angouleme, 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 favor against the Visigothic garrison, but the very walls, like those of
Jericho, fell down at his approach!
AD 508.
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 honors 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 title 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.
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, therefore, tended to increase his personal
dignity in their eyes (and no doubt the solemn proclamation of his Roman titles
had this tendency) was rightly deemed by him 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 Angouleme and Toulouse, the advance of the Franks upon the Rhone, where
they were now besieging Arles, 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, ad 508, 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, favors the account that a battle did take place, in
which Clovis and his allies received a most decided and bloody defeat.
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 hereafter, 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 fullness 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 AND HIS KINSMEN.
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, Chararich,
of whom mention has been made in connection with Syagrius, and Ragnachar (or Ragnachas),
who held his court at Cambrai. The kingdom of Sigebert extended along both
banks of the Rhine, from Mayence down to Cologne; to
the west along the Moselle as far as
Treves; 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 Mayence, Cologne,
and Treves, 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 Alemanni
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 favorable 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 Clotarich),
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 endeavored 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
ad 509 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.
“And
thus”, says Gregory of Tours, 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, Chararich, 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 Chararich 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 Cambrai, 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 relations 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 relations and
put them also to death”.
Clovis
died at Paris, in AD 511, in the forty-fifth year of his age and the
thirtieth of his active, bloodstained, and eventful reign. He lived therefore
only five years after the decisive battle of Vouglé.
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 our 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 favored hero, while all that he does
relate of him tends to deepen our conviction that this favorite of Heaven, in
whose behalf miracles were freely worked, whom departed saints led on to
victory, and living ministers of God delighted to honor, 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.
HIS
SERVICES TO CHURCH AND STATE.
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
neighbor 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 bloodthirsty
tyrant; but by his conversion he had led 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 leveled, 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.
II.
FROM THE DEATH OF CLOVIS TO
THE DEATH OF CLOTHAIRE I
AD 511—561.
There can
be no stronger evidence of the strength and consistency which the royal
authority had attained in the hands of Clovis, than the peaceful and undisputed
succession of his sons to the vacant throne. It would derogate from our opinion
of the political sagacity of Clovis, were we to attribute to his personal
wishes the partition of his kingdom among his four sons. We have no account,
moreover, of any testamentary dispositions made by him to this effect, and are
justified in concluding that the division took place in accordance with the
general laws of inheritance which then prevailed among the Germans. However
clearly he may have foreseen the disastrous consequences of destroying the
unity which it had been one object of his life to effect, his posthumous
influence would hardly have sufficed to reconcile his younger sons to their own
exclusion, supported as they would naturally be by the national sympathy in
the unusual hardship of their lot.
Of the
four sons of Clovis, Theoderic (Dietrich,
Thierry), Clodomir,
Childebert, and Clotar (Clotaire),
the eldest, who was then probably about twenty-four years of age, was the son
of an unknown mother, and the rest, the offspring of the Burgundian princess
Clotilda. The first use they made of the royal power which had descended to
them was to divide the empire into four parts; in which division, though
Gregory describes them as sharing ‘aequa lance’,
the eldest son appears to have had the lion’s share. We should in vain endeavor
to understand the principles on which this partition was made, and it is no
easy matter to mark the limits of the several kingdoms. Theodoric, King of
Austrasia (or Metz), for example, obtained the whole of the Frankish
territories which bordered on the Rhine, and also some provinces in the south
of Gaul. His capital cities were Metz and Rheims, from the former of which his
kingdom took its name. Clodomir had
his residence at Orleans, Childebert at Paris, and Clotaire at Soissons; and
these three cities were considered as the capitals of the three divisions of
the empire over which they ruled.
The exact
position and limits of their respective territories cannot be defined with any
certainty, but we may fairly surmise, from the position of the towns above
mentioned, that the middle part of Neustria belonged to the kingdom of Paris,
the southern part to Orleans, and the north-eastern to Soissons.
The
kingdom of Theodoric, as will be seen by a reference to the map, corresponded
in a great measure with the region subsequently called Austrasia (Eastern Land)
in contradistinction to Neustria, which included the more recently acquired
possessions of the Franks. These terms are so frequently used in the subsequent
history, and the distinction they denote was so strongly marked and has been so
permanent, that an explanation of them cannot but be useful to the reader.
It is
conjectured by Luden,
with great probability, that the Ripuarians were originally called the Eastern
people to distinguish them from the Salian Franks who lived to the west. But
when the old home of the conquerors on the right bank of the Rhine was united
with their new settlements in Gaul, the latter, as it would seem, were called
Neustria or Neustrasia (New
Lands); while the term Austrasia came to denote the original seats of the
Franks, on what we now call the German bank of the Rhine. The most important
difference between them (a difference so great as to lead to their permanent
separation into the kingdoms of France and Germany by the treaty of Verdun) was
this, that in Neustria the Frankish element was quickly absorbed by the mass of
Gallo-Romanism by which it was surrounded; while in Austrasia, which included
the ancient seats of the Frankish conquerors, the German element was wholly
predominant.
The
import of the word Austrasia (Austria, Austrifrancia) is very fluctuating. In its widest
sense it was used to denote all the countries incorporated into the Frankish
Empire, or even held in subjection to it, in which the German language and
population prevailed; in this acceptation it included therefore the territory
of the Alemanni, Bavarians, Thuringians, and even that of the Saxons and Frises. In its more common and
proper sense it meant that part of the territory of the Franks themselves which
was not included in Neustria. It was subdivided into Upper Austrasia on
the Moselle, and Lower Austrasia on the Rhine
and Meuse.
Neustria
(or, in the fullness of the Monkish Latinity, Neustrasia) was bounded on the north by the ocean,
on the south by the Loire, and on the southwest towards Burgundy by a line
which, beginning below Gien on
the Loire, ran through the rivers Loing and Yonne, not far from their sources, and passing north of
Auxerre and south of Troyes, joined the river Aube above Arcis. The western boundary line
again by which Neustria was separated from Austrasia, commencing at the river
Aube, crossed the Marne to the east of Chateau Thierry, and passing through the
rivers Aisne and Oise, and round the sources of the Somme, left Cambrai on the
east, and reached the Scheldt, which it followed to its mouth.
The tide
of conquest had not reached its height at the death of Clovis. Even in that
marauding age the Franks were conspicuous among the German races for their love
of warlike adventure; and the union of all their different tribes under one
martial leader, who kept them almost perpetually in the field, gave them a
strength which none of their neighbors were able to resist. The partition of
the kingdom afforded indeed a favorable opportunity to the semi-dependent
states of throwing off the yoke which Clovis had imposed; but neither the
Burgundians nor the Visigoths were in a condition to make the attempt, and
Theodoric, the powerful king of the Ostrogoths, was too much occupied by his
quarrel with the Greek Emperor to take advantage of the death of Clovis. Under
these circumstances the Franks, so far from losing ground, were enabled to
extend the limits of their empire and more firmly to establish their supremacy.
The power
of Theodoric the Great prevented Clovis from completing the conquest of
Burgundy, and its rulers regained before his death a virtual independence of
the Franks. The sons of Clovis only wanted a favorable opportunity for
finishing the work which their father had begun, and for changing the merely
nominal subjection of Burgundy into absolute dependence. And here again it was
internal dissension which prepared the way for the admission of the foreign
enemy.
Gundobald, King of Burgundy, died in
517, leaving two sons, Sigismund and Godomar, as
joint successors to his throne. The former of these had married Ostrogotha, a daughter of
Theodoric the Great, by whom he had one son, Sigeric.
On the death of Ostrogotha,
Sigismund took as his second wife a person of low and even menial condition,
who pursued the son of the former queen with all the hatred popularly ascribed
to stepmothers. Gregory relates that the boy increased the bitterness of her
feelings against him by reproaching her for appearing on some solemn occasion
in the robe and ornaments of his high-born mother. The new queen sought to revenge
herself by exciting the jealousy of her husband against his son. She secretly
accused Sigeric of engaging in a plot to obtain the
crown for himself and represented him as having been moved to this dangerous
and unnatural enterprise by the hopes he cherished of receiving aid from his
mighty grandfather. This last suggestion found but too ready an entrance into
the heart of Sigismund, and so completely poisoned for the time its natural
springs, that he ordered Sigeric to be put to death.
Inevitable remorse came quickly, yet too late, and the wretched king buried
himself in the monastery of St. Maurice, and sought to atone for his fearful
crime by saying masses day and night for the soul of his murdered son.
In the
meantime Clotilda, the widow of Clovis, herself a Burgundian princess, who had
lived in retirement at the church of St. Martin since her husband’s death, did
all in her power to rouse her sons to take vengeance on her cousin Sigismund.
It is difficult to conjecture the source of the feeling which thus disturbed
her holy meditations in the cloisters of St. Martin’s, and filled her heart
with schemes of revenge and bloodshed. We can hardly attribute her excitement
on this occasion to a keen sense of the cruelty and injustice which Sigeric had suffered. The wife of Clovis must have been too
well inured to treachery and blood to be greatly moved by the murder of her
second cousin. Some writers have found sufficient explanation of her conduct in
the fact that her own father and mother had been put to death in 492 by Gundobald, the father of Sigismund. But we know that when Gundobald was defeated by Clovis he obtained easy terms,
nor was the murder of Clothilda’
parents brought against him on that occasion. It is not likely that a thirst
for vengeance which such an injury might naturally excite, after
remaining unslaked in the heart of Clothilda for nearly thirty
years, should have revived with increased intensity on account of a murder
committed by one of the hated race upon his own kinsman. A more probable motive
is suggested by a passage in Gregory of Tours, in which he informs us that
Theodoric of Metz had married Suavegotta a
daughter of Sigismund of Burgundy. Theodoric, as we have said, was the eldest
son of Clovis, by an unknown mother, and was evidently the most warlike and
powerful of the four Frankish kings. A union between her stepson and the
Burgundian dynasty might seem to Clotilda to threaten the welfare and safety of
her own sons, to whom her summons to arms appears to have been most particularly
addressed. Theodoric took no part in the present war; and on a subsequent
occasion, when invited by Clodomir to
join him in an expedition against the Burgundians, he positively refused.
The sons
of Clotilda, happy in being able to obey their mother's wishes in a manner so
gratifying to their own inclinations, made a combined attack upon Burgundy in
523. Sigismund and Godomar his brother, were
defeated, and the former, having been given up to the conquerors by his own
followers, was carried prisoner to Orleans; the latter escaped and assumed the
reins of government in Burgundy. The Franks, like all barbarians of that age,
found it more easy to conquer a province than to keep it. In the very same
year, on the retreat of the Frankish army, Godomar was able to retake all the towns which had been surrendered to the Franks, and
to possess himself of his late brother’s kingdom.
Clodomir renewed the invasion in the following year. Before his departure
he determined to put the captive Sigismund, with his wife and children, to
death; nor could the bold intercession of the Abbot Avitus, who threatened him
with a like calamity, deter him from his bloody purpose. His answer to the
abbot is highly naive. “It seems to me”, he said, “a foolish piece of advice to
leave some enemies at home while I am marching against others, so that, with
the former in the rear and the latter in front, I may rush between the two
wedges of my enemies. Victory will be better and more easily obtained by
separating one from the other”. In accordance with this better plan, he caused
his captives to be put to death at Columna near
Orleans, and thrown into a well. After thus securing “his rear”, he
marched against the Burgundians. In the battle which took place on the plain
of Veferonce near
Vienne, Clodomir was
deceived by a feigned retreat of the Burgundian army, and, having been carried
in the impetuosity of his pursuit into the midst of the enemy, he was
recognized by the royal length of his hair and slain on the field of battle.
The loss
of their leader, however, instead of causing a panic among the Franks, inspired
them with irresistible fury; they quickly routed the Burgundians, and, after
devastating their country with indiscriminate slaughter, compelled them once
more to submission. Yet it was not until after a third invasion that Burgundy
was finally reduced to the condition of a Frankish province, and even then it retained
its own laws and customs; the only marks of subjection consisting in an annual
tribute and the liability to serve the Frankish king in his wars.
On the
death of Clodomir,
his territories were divided among the three remaining kings; and Clotaire, the
youngest of them, married the widowed queen Guntheuca. The children of Clodomir, being still young, appear to have been
taken no notice of in the partition : they found an asylum with their
grandmother Clothilda.
While his
half-brothers were enlarging the Frankish frontier towards the south-east,
Theodoric, who had declined to join in the attack upon Burgundy, was directing
his attention towards Thuringia, which he ultimately added to the kingdom of
Austrasia. The accession of the Thuringians to the Frankish Empire was the more
important because they inhabited those ancient seats from which the Franks
themselves had gone forth to the conquest of Gaul, and because it served to
give additional strength to the Austrasian kingdom,
in which the German element prevailed.
The fall
of Thuringia is traced by the historian to the ungovernable passions of one of
the female sex, which plays so prominent a part in the history of these times.
About AD 528,
this kingdom was governed by three princes, Baderic, Hermenfried and Berthar, the
second of whom had the high honor, as it was naturally considered, of
espousing Amalaberg,
the niece of Theodoric the Great. The ‘happy Thuringia’, however, derived
anything but advantage from the ‘inestimable treasure’ which, according to her
uncle's account of her, it acquired in the Ostrogothic princess. This lady was
not unconscious of the dignity she derived from her august relative, and
fretted within the narrow limits of the fraction of a petty kingdom. Gregory
tells us a singular story of the manner in which she marked her contempt of the
possessions of her husband, and at the same time betrayed her ambitious
desires. On returning home one day to a banquet, Hermenfried observed that a part of the table had no cloth upon it; and when he inquired of
the queen the reason of this unusual state of things, she told him that it
became a king who was despoiled of the centre of his
kingdom to have the middle of his table bare. Excited by the suggestions of his
queen, Hermenfried determined to destroy his
brothers, and made secret overtures to Theoderic of Austrasia, to whom he promised a
portion of his expected acquisitions on condition of receiving aid. Theodoric
gladly consented, and, in conjunction with Hermenfried,
defeated and slew both Baderic and Berthar (Werther).
A man
who, to serve his ambition, had not shrunk from a double fratricide, was not
likely to be very scrupulous in observing his engagements to a mere ally. He
entirely forgot his promise to Theodoric and kept the whole of Thuringia to
himself. He relied for impunity on his connection with the royal house of
the Ostrogoths, his alliance with the Heruli and Warni, and the great increase of his strength in
Thuringia itself. But with all these advantages he was no match for Theoderic of Austrasia and
his warlike subjects. The death of the latter’s great namesake removed the only
obstacle which had prevented the Franks from attacking Thuringia.
In 530
the Austrasian king summoned his warlike subjects to
march against Hermenfried; and, in order to make the
ground of quarrel as general as possible, he expatiated to them on some
imaginary cruelties committed by the Thuringians upon their countrymen.
“Revenge”,
said he, “I pray you, both the injury done to me, and the death of your own fathers;
remembering that the Thuringians formerly fell with violence upon our
ancestors, and inflicted many evils upon them, when they had given hostages and
were desirous of making peace; but the Thuringians destroyed these hostages in
various ways, and having invaded the territory of our forefathers, robbed them
of all their property, hung up young men by the sinews of their legs, and
destroyed more than 200 maidens by a most cruel death”. The enumeration of all
these horrors ends with some degree of bathos: “But now Hermenfried has cheated me of what he promised”.
The
Franks, who required no very powerful oratory to induce them to undertake an
expedition in which there was prospect of plunder, unanimously declared for
war; and Theodoric, in company with his son Theudebert and his brother Clotaire of Soissons, marched into Thuringia. The inhabitants
endeavored to protect themselves from the superior cavalry of the invaders by a
stratagem similar to that employed by Robert Bruce at Bannockburn, by digging small
holes in front of their own line. They were, however, compelled to retreat to
the river Unstrut in
Saxon Prussia, where they made a stand, but were defeated with immense carnage,
so that the river “was choked with dead bodies, which served as a bridge for
the invaders”. The whole country was quickly reduced and permanently
incorporated with Austrasia. And thus, after a long interval, the Franks
repossessed themselves of the ancient homes of their tribe, and by one great
victory established themselves in the very heart of Germany, which the Romans
from the same quarter had often, but vainly, endeavored to do.
The
growing separation between the German and Romance elements in the Frankish
Empire, as represented by Theodoric, King of Metz, on the one side, and his
half-brother, on the other, becomes more and more evident as our history
proceeds. While the sons of Clothilda were
associated in almost every undertaking, Theodoric frequently stood aloof, in a
manner which shows that his connection with them was by no means of the same
kind as theirs with each other. The conquest of the purely German Thuringia,
was undertaken by Theodoric exclusively on his own account and in reliance on
his own resources. Clotaire indeed accompanied him in his expedition against that
country, but in all probability without any military force, nor does he appear
to have put in any claim to a share of the conquered territory. The subjugation
of Burgundy, on the other hand, in which the Romance language and manners had
acquired the ascendancy, was the work of Clotaire and Childebert alone.
Theodoric
was invited to join them, but refused on the ground of his connection with the
King of Burgundy. Whatever may have been his reason for declining so tempting
an invitation, it was certainly not want of support from his subjects, for we
are told that they were highly irritated by his refusal, and mutinously
declared that they would march without him. Yet he adhered to his determination
not to join his brothers, and pacified the wrath of his soldiers by leading
them against the Arverni, in whose country they committed the most frightful
ravages, undismayed by several astounding miracles!
An inroad
had been previously made upon the Arverni, by Childebert, while Theodoric was
still in Thuringia. Childebert had suddenly broken off from the prosecution of
this war, and turned his arms against Amalaric, King of the Visigoths, who
still retained a portion of Southern Gaul. This monarch had married Clothildis, a daughter of Clovis, from motives of interest
and dread of the Frankish power; but appears to have thrown aside his fears,
and with them his conciliating policy, on the death of his great father-in-law.
We are told that Clothildis suffered the greatest
indignities at the hands of Amalaric and his Arian subjects for her faithful
adherence to the Catholic Church. Where religious predilections are concerned,
it is necessary to receive the accounts of the dealings between the Franks and
their Arian neighbors with the utmost caution. Few will believe that the object
of Childebert’s march was solely to avenge his
sister’s wrongs; but the mention of them by the historian seems to indicate
that the invasion was made in reliance upon Catholic support among the subjects
of Amalaric himself. The sudden resolution of Childebert (taken probably on the
receipt of important intelligence from the country of the Visigoths), the rapid
progress and almost uniform success of the Franks, all point to the same
conclusion, that the Catholic party in Southern Gaul was in secret
understanding with the invaders. Amalaric was defeated and slain in the first
encounter, and the whole of his Gallic possessions, with the exception of Septimania, was incorporated without further resistance
with the Frankish Empire. The Visigoths, with their wives and children, retired
into Spain under their new king Theudis.
Theoderic, King of Austrasia, died in 534, after having added largely to the
Frankish dominions, and was succeeded by his son Theudebert.
An attempt on the part of his uncles Childebert and Clotaire to deprive him of
his kingdom and his life was frustrated by the fidelity of his Austrasian subjects. How venial and almost natural such a
conspiracy appeared in that age, even to him who was to have been the victim of
it, may be inferred from the fact that Theudebert and
Childebert became soon afterwards close friends and allies. The latter, having
no children, adopted his nephew, whose life he had so lately sought, as the
heir to his dominions, and loaded him with the richest presents. In 537 these
two princes made a combined attack upon Clotaire, who was only saved from
destruction by the intercession of his mother. That pious princess passed a
whole night in prayer at the sepulcher of St. Martin, and Gregory tells us that
the result of her devotions—a miraculous shower of enormous hailstones—brought
his cruel kinsmen to reason!
The
Empire of the Franks was soon after extended in a direction in which they had
hitherto found an insurmountable barrier to their progress. On the death of
Theodoric the Great, or, as he is called in song and legend, “Dietrich of
Bern”, the scepter which he had borne with such grace and vigor passed into the
hands of an infant and a woman. The young and beautiful Amalasuintha,
daughter of Theodoric by the sister of Clovis, and widow of Eutharic,
exercised the royal authority in the name of her son Athalaric; and when the
latter, prematurely exhausted by vicious habits, followed his mighty
grandfather to the grave in 532, she made Theodatus, son of Amalafrida,
the sister of Theodoric, her associate in the royal power. The benefit was
basely repaid. Theodatus procured the murder of the unhappy queen to whom he
owed his advancement, and thus drew down upon himself and his country the
vengeance of all who were desirous of dismembering the Empire of the Ostrogoths.
Religious
animosities, which it had been the policy of the Arian but tolerant Theodoric
to sooth by the even-handed justice of his administration, broke forth with
destructive fury under his feeble successors. The Roman subjects of Theodoric’s
empire had not lost the pride, although they had degenerated from the valor, of
their ancestors, and had never ceased to think it shame and sin to be ruled by
a barbarian monarch, and that monarch, too, a heretic. They would gladly have
consented to forget their former jealousies, and to unite themselves with the
Eastern Empire, especially when a temporary gleam of life was thrown over its
corrupt and dying frame by the vigorous administration of Justinian. But, if it
were the will of Heaven that they should yield to a new and more vigorous race,
they wished at least to have an orthodox master, who would not merely protect
their religious freedom, but agree with their theological opinions. Their
choice therefore lay between Justinian and the Franks, who were ever watching
their opportunity to turn the errors and divisions of their neighbors to their
own account. Justinian was the first to move; and, under the pretext of
avenging the death of Amalasuintha, he sent his
celebrated general Belisarius to attack Theodatus. The Franks beheld with joy
the approaching struggle between their two mightiest rivals, and prepared to
take the advantageous position of umpires.
Both
Justinian and Theodatus were aware that the Franks could turn the scale in
favor of either party, and both made the greatest efforts to conciliate their
aid. Justinian appealed to their natural enmity against heretics and Goths, but
deemed it necessary to quicken their national and theological antipathies by a
large present of money, and still larger promises. The Franks received the
money and promised the desired assistance the more readily, as they felt
themselves aggrieved by the murder of a niece of Clovis. Theodatus, on the
other hand, hearing that Belisarius was already on his way to Sicily,
endeavored to ward off the attack of the Franks by offering them the Gothic
possessions in Gaul and 2000 pounds’ weight of gold. The Franks were dazzled by
the splendor of the bribe, but Theodatus died before the bargain was completed.
His general Vitisges, who was elected to succeed him,
called a council of the chiefs of the Ostrogothic nation, and was strongly
urged by them to fulfill the promises of Theodatus, and by sacrificing a
portion of the empire to secure the rest. “In all other respects”, they said,
“we are well prepared; but the Franks, our ancient enemies, are an obstacle in
our path”.
The
imminent peril in which Vitisges stood rendered the
sacrifice inevitable, and the whole of the Ostrogothic possessions in Gaul
which lay between the Rhone, the Alps, and the Mediterranean, as well as that
part of Rhaetia which Theodoric the Great had given to the Alemanni after their
defeat by Clovis, were transferred in full sovereignty to the Franks. The
Merovingian kings, regardless of their former promises to Justinian, divided
the land and money among themselves and promised their venal but efficient
support to the king of Italy. They stipulated, however, out of delicacy to the
Greek Emperor, that they should not march in person against Belisarius, but
should be allowed to send the subject Burgundians, or at all events to permit
them to go. This seasonable reinforcement enabled the Ostrogoths to sack and
plunder Milan, in which exploit they received the willing assistance of the
Burgundians.
In the
following year, 539, Theudebert himself, excited
perhaps by the alluring accounts he had heard of the booty taken by his
subjects in Italy, marched across the Alps at the head of 100,000 men. Vitisges and his Goths had every reason to suppose that Theudebert came to succor them, but Belisarius on his part
hoped much from the long feud between Goth and Frank. Theudebert determined in his own way to be impartial. He had promised to aid both parties,
and he had promised to make war on both; and he kept his word by attacking
both, driving them from the field of battle, and plundering their camps with
the greatest impartiality. A letter of remonstrance from Belisarius would
probably have had little weight in inducing Theudebert to return, as he did soon afterwards, had it not been backed by the murmurs of
the Franks themselves, who were suffering from an insufficient supply of food,
and had lost nearly one third of their numbers by dysentery.
Though
our principal attention will be directed to the actions of the Austrasian king, we may briefly refer in this place to a
hostile incursion into Spain, made by Childebert and Clotaire, in 542. On this
occasion the town of Saragossa is represented by Gregory as having been taken,
not by the sword and battle-axe of the Franks, but by the holy tunic of
St. Vincentius, borne
by an army of women, clothed in black mantles, with their hair disheveled and
sprinkled with penitential ashes. The heretical Goths no sooner caught sight of
the tunic, and heard the first notes of the holy hymns which were sung by the
female besiegers, than they fled in terror from their city, and left it to be
plundered by the advancing Franks.
As the object of this invasion was simply predatory, the Franks soon after retired into Gaul with immens
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