THE FRANKS,

AD 741—768

Carl Martel left two sons, Carloman and Pepin, by his first wife of whom nothing is known, and a third, Gripho, by the captive Bavarian princess Sunehild, who is sometimes called his second wife and sometimes his concubine. In the first partition of his dominions, which was made known before his death, he apportioned Austrasia, Swabia (Alemannia), and Thuringia, the German provinces, to his eldest son, Carloman; Neustria, Burgundy, and Provence, to Pepin, the chief inheritor of his glory. In this arrangement the son of Sunehild was wisely passed over; but the entreaties of his beautiful spouse induced Carl, at the very end of his life, to set apart a portion from each of the two kingdoms above mentioned for Gripho; an unfortunate step, which only brought destruction on him who received the fatal gift.

The mischievous effects of the new partition showed themselves immediately. The subjects of Gripho, among whom alone he could look for sympathy and support, were discontented at being arbitrarily separated from the rest of the empire; and the ill-feeling of the seigniors and people in all parts of the country appears to have been enhanced by the prejudice existing against Sunehild, both as a foreigner and on account of the great influence she exercised over the heart of Carl. So strong, indeed, was the feeling of the Franks upon the subject, that we may fairly doubt whether Carloman and Pepin themselves, had they been so inclined, would have been able to secure to their brother the possession of the territory allotted to him.

Whatever sentiments the two eldest brothers previously entertained towards Gripho, they were soon rendered openly hostile by the flight of their sister Hiltrude to the court of Bavaria, and her unauthorized marriage with Odilo, the duke of that country. Sunehild and Gripho, who were naturally looked upon as the instigators of this unwelcome alliance, shut themselves up in the fortress of Laon; but being entirely without resources, they yielded up the place and themselves as soon as Carloman and Pepin appeared with an army before its walls. The favorite wife of the mighty Carl Martel was sent into a nunnery at Chelles, and Gripho was imprisoned in the castle of Neufchateau, in the forest of Ardennes.

The great importance which the youthful rulers attached to the flight of Gripho and his mother, and the clandestine marriage of Hiltrude, was owing to their knowledge of the troubled state of Bavaria, where a rebellion broke out soon afterwards. Carloman and Pepin, like their forefathers, were called upon, at the very commencement of their reign, to show themselves worthy of the scepter they had inherited. No sooner was the heavy hand of Carl Martel withdrawn from their necks, than Swabians, Bavarians, and Aquitanians once more flew to arms for the recovery of their independence. Nor can we condemn the proceedings of these warlike tribes as unseasonable, or altogether rash and hopeless. They had no reason to suppose that, contrary to the usual course of nature, the Carolingian race would go on forever producing giants like the two first Pepins and Carl Martel; and they knew that it needed a giant’s grasp to hold the mighty empire of the Franks together. But the spirit of their father lived in both his sons, as their enemies had soon good reason to know; and any natural hopes the revolted nations may have founded on family dissensions were dispelled by the captivity of Gripho, and the lasting harmony which existed between Carloman and Pepin.

Having placed a Merovingian named Childeric on the throne, which their father for some time before his death had left unoccupied, the young princes marched an army towards Aquitaine; for Hunold the son of Eudo, the sworn vassal of Carl Martel, had manifested his rebellious intentions by throwing Lantfred, the Frankish ambassador, into prison. Crossing the Loire, they devastated Aquitania as far as Bourges; and were on the point of overrunning the whole country, when the intelligence of the still more serious rebellion of the Swabians compelled them suddenly to break off their campaign in the south, and return to the heart of their dominions. Preparations of unusual magnitude had been made for the war by the Dukes of Swabia and Bavaria, who had invited the Saxon and Slavonian tribes to make common cause against the Franks. The sudden return of the Frankish army, however, frustrated their half-completed plans. In the autumn of the same year, Carloman crossed the Rhine, fell upon the Swabian Duke Theobald before his Bavarian allies were ready to take the field, and compelled him to renew his oath of allegiance, and to give hostages for its observance.

THE FRANKS AND BAVARIANS.

In the meantime, Odilo, Duke of Bavaria, the husband of the fugitive Princess Hiltrude, was doing all in his power to strengthen himself against the expected attack of the Franks, and was evidently acting in concert with Duke Hunold of Aquitaine. The defeat of the Swabians was a heavy blow to his hopes; but he had gone too far to recede, and having united a body of Saxons and Slavonian mercenaries with his own subjects, he took up a position on the farther side of the river Lech, and stockaded the banks to prevent the enemy from crossing. The Franks came up soon afterwards, but found the Bavarians so strongly entrenched, that they lay fifteen days on the opposite bank without attempting anything. After a diligent search, however, they discovered a ford by which they crossed the river during the night, and, falling on the unsuspecting enemy, put them to flight, and drove them with great slaughter across the river Inn.

The Frankish princes are said to have remained for fifty-two days in the enemies’ country; but their expedition partook more of the nature of a foray than a conquest, and left the Bavarians in nearly the same condition of semi-independence in which it had found them. The activity of the revolted tribes rendered it dangerous for Carloman and Pepin to lead their forces too far in any one direction. As Hunold had been saved by the revolt of the Swabians, so Odilo was now relieved from the presence of the Franks by diversions made in his favor in two other quarters; by the Saxons, who had fallen upon Thuringia; and by Hunold, who, emboldened by impunity and the absence of the Franks, had crossed the Loire and was devastating the land as far as Chartres. The Saxons claimed the first attention of the Frankish leaders, since the latter dared not march towards the south with so dangerous an enemy in their rear. Carloman is said to have defeated the Saxon army, which consisted in all probability of undisciplined marauders, in two great battles, and to have carried off one of their leaders, named Theoderic, into Austrasia. Pepin was, in the meantime, engaged with the Swabians under Theobald, whom he soon reduced to obedience. Having thus, for the time, secured their rear, the brother-warriors marched (in AD 745), with united forces, against Hunold, who, conscious of his utter inability to resist their undivided power, laid down his arms without a contest, consented to give hostages, and to renew his brittle oaths of fealty. Disgusted with his ill success, he soon afterwards resigned the government in favor of his son Waifar, and retired into the monastery of St. Philibert, in the island of Rhé, on the coast of Aquitaine.

We cannot fairly number Hunold among the princes of Europe who have resigned their crowns from a real and settled conviction of the worthlessness of all but spiritual goods and honors. The precise motives which actuated him can only be guessed at; but the very last explanation of his conduct to which we should have recourse is that he sought in retirement a more undisturbed communion with God. The same chronicles which record his abdication inform us, that in order to secure the undisputed succession of the vacant throne to his son, he lured his own brother “by false oaths” from Poitiers, and, after putting out his eyes, kept him in strict confinement. Such was his preparation for the monastic life!

Though it is not easy to discover in what respect the Swabians were more in fault in the war just mentioned than the other revolted nations, it is evident that they incurred the special resentment of their Frankish conquerors. All had broken their allegiance, and had sought to regain by force the independence of which they had been forcibly deprived. Yet while the Bavarians and Aquitanians were merely compelled to renew their engagements on honorable terms, the treatment of the Swabians has left an indelible blot on the character of Carloman.

This brave and once powerful people had retired, after their defeat by Pepin, into the fastnesses of the Alps, but were soon compelled to make their submission, and to resume their former allegiance. In AD 746, however, they appear to have meditated a new revolt, and were accused of having incited the Bavarians to try once more the fortune of war. Rendered furious by the seemingly interminable nature of the contest, Carloman appears to have thought himself justified in repaying faithlessness by treachery of a far more heinous nature; and this is the only shadow of an excuse which can be offered for his conduct. Having led his army to Cannstadt in AD 746, he ordered Theobald, the Swabian duke, to join him with all his forces, in obedience to the military ban. Theobald obeyed without suspicion, supposing that he should be employed, in conjunction with the rest of Carloman’s forces, against some common enemy.

“And there”, says the chronicler of Metz, “a great prodigy took place, that one army seized and bound another without any of the perils of war!”. No sooner had the two armies met together in an apparently friendly manner, than Carloman ordered his Franks to surround the Alemannians (Swabians), and to disarm and bind them. He then instituted an inquiry respecting the aid afforded the Bavarians; and, having seized those chiefs who had assisted Odilo “against the invincible princes, Carloman and Pepin, he mercifully corrected each according to his deserts”. Lanfried II received the vacant throne of Theobald, who, in all probability, was one of those who lost their lives by Carloman’s merciful correction. In the following year, the connection between the Carolingian family and the Roman Church, which had grown continually closer, was still farther strengthened by the voluntary abdication of Carloman, and his admission into the monastic order. The reasons which induced this mighty prince and successful warrior to take so singular a step are quite unknown. Remorse for his recent treachery, disgust at the bloodshed he had caused and witnessed, the sense of inferiority to his brother Pepin, and doubts as to the continuance of fraternal harmony, a natural tendency to religious contemplation increased by the influence of Boniface, whose earnest faith and spotless life could not but make a deep impression upon all who knew him; these and other causes will occur to the mind of every one as being, singly or in different combinations, adequate to the result. Yet we can but guess at motives which were unknown to the generations immediately succeeding him, and which he himself perhaps would have found it difficult to define.

With the full concurrence of his brother Pepin, whose appetite for worldly honors was by no means sated, Carloman set out for Rome with a numerous retinue of the chief men in his kingdom, taking with him magnificent presents for the Pope. He was received by Zachary with great distinction; and by his advice Carloman vowed obedience to the rules of St. Benedict before Optatus, the Abbot of Monte Casino, and founded a monastery to St. Sylvester on the classic heights of Mount Soracte. But he was far too much in earnest in his desire of solitude to find the neighborhood of Rome a suitable or agreeable residence. The newly founded monastery was soon thronged with curious visitors, eager to behold the princely monk who had given up all to follow Christ. He therefore abandoned Mount Soracte, and, concealing as far as possible his name and rank, enrolled himself among the Benedictine monks of Monte Casino.

PEPIN BECOMES SOLE RULER. 

As no stipulation had been made in favor of Carloman’s son Drogo, Pepin now became sole ruler of the whole Frankish empire. It is a no less singular than pleasing fact that one of the very first uses which Pepin made of his undivided authority was to release his brother Gripho from his long imprisonment; singular, because it seems to imply that Carloman, whose susceptibility to religious influences cannot be doubted, was the only obstacle to this act of generosity and mercy. It is indeed open to us to suppose that Carloman foresaw more clearly than his brother the injurious consequences of Gripho’s restoration to freedom; for the policy of this step was certainly more questionable than its generosity. The liberated prince thought more of what was withheld than of what was granted, and had never ceased to consider himself entitled to an equal share of the dominions of his father.

In AD 748, not long after his release, while Pepin was holding a council of the bishops and seigniors at Düren, Gripho was forming a party among the younger men to support his pretensions to the throne. In company of some of these he fled to the Saxons, who were always ready to make common cause against the hated Franks. Pepin, well aware of the extremely inflammable materials by which his frontiers were surrounded, and dreading a renewal of the conflagration he had so lately quenched in blood, immediately took the field; marching through Thuringia, he attacked and defeated the Nordosquavi, a Saxon tribe who lived on the river Wipper, between the Bode and Saale. The Saxon leader Theoderic was taken prisoner for the third time, and a considerable number of the captives taken on this occasion were compelled to receive Christian baptism, according to the usual policy of that age.

After fruitless negotiations between the brothers, Gripho endeavored to make a stand at the river Oker; failing in this, he fled to the Bavarians, among whom an enemy of Pepin was sure to find a welcome. After devastating the Saxon territory for forty days, and reimposing the tribute formerly exacted by Clotaire, Pepin directed his march towards Bavaria, in pursuit of his brother. Odilo, the former duke of this country, was now dead, and had been succeeded by his son Tassilo, who ruled under the influence of the Frankish Princess Hiltrude. These inveterate enemies of Pepin were also joined by a mighty Bavarian chief, called Suitger, and the Swabian duke, Lanfried II.

If we understand rightly a passage in the annals of Metz, Gripho succeeded in depriving Tassilo and his mother of the reins of Government and making himself master of Bavaria. Gripho, Suitger, and Lanfried united their forces, but not venturing to await the attack of the Franks upon the Lech, as Odilo had done on a former occasion, they retreated at once behind the Inn, which had already proved so effectual a bulwark. Pepin, however, no longer embarrassed by a variety of enemies, determined to bring the matter to a final decision, and was already making preparations to cross the Inn, when the leaders of the allied army, convinced of the futility of braving the superior force of the Franks, voluntarily surrendered themselves prisoners of war. The leniency with which the Bavarians were treated seems to imply that favorable terms of surrender bad been granted, at any rate, to them. Tassilo received back his duchy, for which he had to swear fealty to the Frankish ruler; while Alemannia was finally incorporated with the Frankish dominions. The fate of Lanfried II, the last of the Swabian dukes, is not known; but the character and general policy of Pepin are a guarantee that he was not treated with unnecessary harshness. Gripho was once more indebted to his brother for life and liberty, and not only received a full pardon, but was endowed with twelve counties and the town of Mans—a fortune splendid enough to have satisfied the desires of anyone who had not dreamed too much of independence and royal authority.

The ill success which attended the efforts of Gripho, whose claims but a few years before would have rallied thousands of malcontents round his standard, and the rapid and easy suppression of the Swabian and Bavarian revolts, afford us evidence that the once bitter opposition of the seigniors, both lay and clerical, to the establishment of the Carolingian throne, was finally overcome; and that Pepin possessed a degree of settled authority which neither his father nor his grandfather had enjoyed. Many circumstances contributed to this superiority in the position of Pepin, even as compared with his immediate predecessor. He had, in the first place, the great advantage of a quiet and undisputed succession to his father’s dignities. His authority could not be regarded merely as that of a great officer of the crown or a successful warrior, but had already acquired an hereditary character, as founded on the mighty deeds of a series of noble ancestors: in the second place, the military constitution of the country had acquired consistency in the long and successful wars of Carl Martel. This constitution, as we shall show, was intimately connected with the seigniorship, now fully developed, and the system of beneficia, or non-hereditary grants, by which the Frankish rulers endeavored to secure the services of the powerful chieftains and their dependent followers; and lastly, we must attribute much of the tranquility enjoyed by Pepin to the vigour with which Carl Martel chastised his unruly subjects, and forced the boldest to succumb to the valor and fortune of his glorious race. And hence it was that Pepin found both strength and leisure to regulate by wise laws, the dominions which his father had only been able to overawe by his upraised sword. In this work he was ably seconded by Boniface, whose counsel he sought on all important occasions, and to whom, in turn, he gave material aid in the grand objects of the noble martyr's life—the extension of the Christian faith, and the regulation of the visible Church according to the Roman ritual.

SYNOD OF LESTINES.

It was during the mayoralty of Pepin, and not, as is generally assumed, in that of Carl Martel, that the famous and important act of ‘Secularization’ took place, which will again be spoken of in the chapter on the Church. The practice into which Carl Martel had been driven by his necessities, of bestowing ecclesiastical benefices on laymen who assumed the priesthood with purely secular views, was inconsistent with the peace and good order, and inimical to all the higher interests, of the Christian Church. As an exceptional state of things, however, even rigid disciplinarians and pious churchmen like Boniface had thought it expedient to yield a tacit assent to the employment of Church revenues for military purposes. But when, on the one hand, the consequences of these irregular and violent expedients had become, with the lapse of time, more clearly evident; and, on the other, a stricter discipline, and a more religious and ecclesiastical spirit had been diffused through the great body of the clergy by the labors of Boniface and his school, it became more and more repugnant to the feelings of all true friends of the Church to see its highest offices filled by masquerading laymen, who had nothing of the priest about them but the name and dress. In this repugnance we have every reason to believe that both Carloman and Pepin largely shared; and yet, though not engaged in an internecine struggle like their father, they carried on expensive wars, and needed large supplies of land and money. It was not therefore to be expected that they should ease the Church from all participation in the public burdens, especially at a time when it had absorbed a very large proportion of the national wealth. Under these circumstances, a compromise was effected by the influence of Boniface at the Synod of Lestines. In this important council the assembled bishops consented, in consideration of the urgent necessities of the State, to make a voluntary surrender of a portion of the funds of the Church; with the stipulation that the civil rulers should, on their part, abstain for the future from all arbitrary interference with its discipline and property.

Preparatory to the meeting of the Synod at Lestines, Carloman and Pepin summoned, on the 21st of April, AD 742 (at Saltz?), a council of the great seigniors, temporal and spiritual, to consider how the laws of God and of the Church, which had fallen into confusion and ruin under former rulers, might be best restored.”For more than eighty years”, says Boniface, in his epistle to the Pope on this occasion, “the Franks have neither held a synod, nor appointed an archbishop, nor enacted or renewed their canons; but most of the bishoprics are given to rapacious laymen or dissolute and avaricious priests for their own use; and though some of these profess to be chaste, yet they are either drunkards or followers of the chase; or they go armed into battle, and shed with their own hands the blood of Christians as well as heathens!”.

Before this first assembly, which was a council of state, and not an ecclesiastical synod, Boniface as papal legate brought forward his measures for the reform of the Church and the settlement of its relations to the State. Through the influence of Carloman many of these propositions received the sanction of the council, and they must be regarded as concessions made by the State to the Church. It was enacted that annual synods should be held; that the property of which the churches and monasteries had been violently deprived should be restored; that the counts and bishops in their respective jurisdictions should be directed to put down all heathen practices (to which the people in some parts of the country were still addicted); that the rules of St. Benedict should be reintroduced into the monasteries; and that the clergy should be prohibited from war and the chase, from sexual intercourse, and the use of military accoutrements.

In the following year (743), the Synod of Lestines itself was summoned for the final settlement of the points just mentioned; and it was here that the terms on which the consent of Carloman and Pepin to the proposition of Boniface had been given, were made public. “We also enact”, runs the decree of these princes, “by the counsel of God’s servants, and of the Christian people, that, in consideration of impending wars and the persecutions to which we are subject from surrounding nations, we be allowed, by the indulgence of God, to retain for some time sub precario et censu a portion of the Church’s property, for the support of our army; on these conditions, that a solidus (gold piece of 12 denarii) should be paid annually to the church or monastery for every estate, and that the church be reinvested with its property at the death of the present holder. Should, however, necessity compel, or the prince ordain it, the precarium (or life-interest) must be renewed and a new document drawn up; and, in every case, care must be taken that the churches and monasteries, of which the property is in precario (granted for a single life), suffer no want or poverty. But if poverty renders it necessary, the whole property must be restored to the church or house of God”.

It is not surprising that the remarkable document before us has been quoted, on the one hand, in evidence of the absolute power which the Carolingian mayors assumed over the Church; and, on the other, of the inviolability of Church property, and the disapprobation with which the conduct of Carl Martel was regarded even by his own sons. Our first impression, on reading this decree, is that the clergy had little reason to rejoice in the results of Boniface’s mediation between themselves and the civil power. Not only are the grants of ecclesiastical property, made to laymen for secular and warlike purposes, retained during the lives of the occupants, but express provision is made for the renewal of similar grants, “when necessity compels or the prince commands it”. The powers here given of employing the superfluous wealth of the Church for secular purposes could hardly be greater; yet such a relation between Church and State is quite consistent with the circumstances of the times.

Humanly speaking, the Frankish Church, surrounded as it was on either side by the still heathen Germans and the Mohammedan conquerors, owed its preservation to the sword of Carl Martel. Boniface himself emphatically declares that the success of his missionary efforts was to be ascribed in a great measure to the same potent instrument. The influence which the great ecclesiastical dignitaries derived from their sacred calling—the great extent and valuable immunities of their lands, and their skill in forming and leading parties in the State—had been greatly lessened by the bold inroads of the same vigorous prince upon their exclusive privileges, and his triumph over the factious nobles. The irresponsible power, too, of the bishops within the Church itself was also curtailed by the successful efforts of Boniface to restore the chain of subordination among the clergy, and to bring the whole body under the absolute supremacy of the Bishop of Rome. The important results of this change are sufficiently evident; for this head of the Western Church was himself an unwilling tributary to the Longobards, and a suppliant to the Frankish mayors for deliverance from triumphant enemies.

We cannot, then, be surprised that the ecclesiastical synods should submit to any terms which promised a settled state of things for the future. And on close examination of the acts of the Synod of Lestines, we shall find that, though much is conceded under the pressure of the moment, the future is carefully provided for. The State acknowledges, in the first place, that certain lands now held by laymen had belonged, and did still essentially belong, to the Church; and its claim, though held in abeyance, is effectually kept alive by the payment of a small fixed rent to the original owners; and, secondly, ecclesiastical property is spoken of as a whole; a point of very great importance—since the possessions of every religious body, however weak in itself, were thus placed under the protection of the universal Church.

The vast funds which the ‘Secularisation’ placed at the disposal of the Frankish princes contributed in no small degree to establish the Carolingian throne; for it enabled them to carry out to its full extent the system of beneficial (or non-hereditary) grants, and to secure the services of the powerful seigniors, who were bound to the Sovereign, not only by a sense of gratitude, but by the hope of future favors and the fear of deprivation.

A change took place at the period at which we have now arrived, which, though easily and noiselessly made, and apparently but nominal, forms an important era in Frankish history. It costs us an effort to remember that Carl Martel, Carloman and Pepin, were not kings, but officers of another, who still bore the royal title, and occasionally and exclusively wore the crown and sat upon the throne. Carloman and Pepin, when they were heading great armies, receiving oaths of allegiance from conquered princes, and giving away duchies, were mayors of the palace to Childeric III, a Merovingian king. Even they had thought the time not yet come for calling themselves by their proper name, and had placed Childeric on the throne. The king’s name was a tower of strength, which they who had met and defeated every other enemy seemed to shrink from attacking.

The foundations of the Merovingian throne, indeed, had been thoroughly, perhaps systematically, sapped. The king-making mayors had set up monarchs and deposed them at their pleasure; they had even left the throne vacant for a time, as if to prove whether the nation was yet cured of its inveterate notion that none but a Merovingian could wear a Frankish crown. This last experiment resulted, as we have said, in the placing of Childeric III upon the throne; an act by which Carloman and Pepin must have thought that some advantage would be gained, or some danger be avoided. At the commencement of their reign powerful tribes were in rebellion, and semi-dependent princes might think themselves absolved by a change of dynasty from their oaths and engagements, and regard revolt as a duty as well as a pleasure. The Franks themselves had not yet received sufficient proof that the sons were worthy of their sire; and the heathen among them naturally clung to the primeval race.

But circumstances changed. The mayors became more and more the heads of a great semi-feudal system, to the members of which they were the sole source of wealth, authority and honor. The intestine troubles of the kingdom had in great measure been healed; the revolted tribes were reduced to more complete obedience; Pepin himself acquired great military renown, and the limits of the empire were extended to the furthest point which they had ever reached. Pepin was already king indeed; and even towards the adoption of the royal name and style some gradual progress had been made. It had be­come customary to reckon in dates by the years of the mayor’s office as well as the king’s reign. The title of princeps and dux is freely given in the chronicles to Carl Martel and his sons, who regarded the royal palaces as their property, and conferred both lands and dignities in their own name. There was but one step more to the throne, and that step was taken at last, when there was scarcely a man in the empire who had either the power or the wish to prevent it.

PEPIN USURPS THE CROWN. 

In AD 750 Pepin assumed the name of king, with the full consent of the nation and the sanction of the Pope; and the last of the Merovingians was shorn of his royal locks, the emblems of his power, and sent to end his days in the monastery of St. Bertin, at Sithiu (St. Omer in Artois).

The immediate motive for the change is not apparent; and the remarkable absence of all impatience on the part of Pepin to assume the royal name seems to justify the notion that the coup-de-grâce was given to the Merovingian dynasty by another hand than his. It might perhaps have been still deferred, but for the growing intimacy of the relations between the Carolingians and the Pope.

The Bishops of Rome had by no means surmounted the difficulties and dangers by which they had been long surrounded. The Greek emperors, to whom they were nominally subject, were too weak either to afford them the necessary protection against their enemies, or to enforce obedience to themselves; and, in addition to this, the Eastern and Western Churches were continually diverging from each other, both in their theological views and secular objects.

The Longobards hung over the eternal city like a cloud which might at any moment send forth the destructive flash. Its only chance of safety for the moment, its only hope of independence and spiritual dominion in the nearer and more distant future, were founded upon a close alliance with the Carolingian dynasty. It was a cherished object, therefore, with the Popes to bind this illustrious family to themselves by the strongest of ties, the sense of common interest and mutual indispensability. It was probable that Pepin would one day ascend the Frankish throne, and it was of the highest moment to the Bishops of Rome to assume the initiative in this inevitable dy­nastic revolution; for thus they would acquire a title to the gratitude of the new king, and give him an in­terest in the preservation of the source from which his royal title seemed to spring. The part which Boniface took in this transaction is unknown; but his position as the most zealous supporter of the papacy, and the intimate friend and counselor of Pepin, leads to the conjecture that a change so much in accordance with his known views was not made without his co­operation. All that has been transmitted to us is the fact that, in AD 750 (or 751), an embassy, com­posed of Burchard Bishop of Würzburg, Fulrad Abbot of St. Denys, and Pepin’s own chaplain, appeared at Rome at the Papal Court, and laid the following question before Pope Zachary for his decision: “Whether it was expedient that one who was possessed of no authority in the land should continue to retain the name of king, or whether it should be transferred to him who really exercised the royal power”.

It is not to be imagined for a moment that Zachary was unprepared with his reply to this momentous question, which would certainly not have been proposed had there been any doubt respecting the answer. The Pope replied, that “he who really governed should also bear the royal name”; and the embassy returned to Pepin with this message, or, as some writers take a pleasure in calling it, this command. A grand council of the nation was assembled at Soissons in the same year, and the majordomus was unanimously elected sole king of the Franks, and soon afterwards anointed and crowned, with his wife Bertrada, by his old and faithful friend Boniface.

This solemn consecration by the use of holy oil, and other ceremonies, observed for the first time at the coronation of the Carolingian king, were not without their important significance. The sentiment of legitimacy was very strongly seated in the hearts of the Frankish people. The dethroned family had exclusively supplied the nation with their rulers from all time; no one could trace their origin, or point to a Merovingian who was not either a king, or the kinsman of a king. It was far otherwise with Pepin. He was the first of his race who had not fought for the office of majordomus with competitors as noble as himself. It was little more than a century since his namesake of Landen had been dismissed from his office by the arbitrary will of Dagobert. The extraordinary fertility of the Carolingian family in warriors and statesmen had hitherto enabled them to hold their own against all gainsayers. But if the new dynasty was to rest on something more certain and durable than the uninterrupted transmission of great bodily and mental powers in a single family, it was of vital importance to the Carolingians to rear their throne upon foun­dations the depth of which was beyond the ken of vulgar eyes. Such a foundation could be nothing else than the sanction of heaven, and was to be sought in the Christian Church, in the fiat of God’s representa­tive on earth, who could set apart the Carolingians as a chosen race, and bestow upon them a heavenly claim to the obedience of their countrymen.

We have already referred to the successful efforts of Boniface and his followers in the cause of Roman supremacy. The belief in the power of the Bishops of Rome, as successors of St. Peter, to bind and to loose, to set up and to set down, had already taken root in the popular mind, and rendered the sanction of the popes as efficacious a legitimiser as the cloud of mystery and fable which enveloped the origin of the fallen Merovingians.

So gradually was this change of dynasty effected, so skillfully was the new throne founded on well-consolidated authority, warlike renown, good government, and religious faith, that as far as we can learn from history, not a single voice was raised against the aspiring mayor, when his warriors, more majorum, raised him on the shield, and bore him thrice through the joyful throng; and when Boniface anointed him with holy oil, as King of the Franks “by the grace of God”, not a single champion was found throughout that mighty empire, to draw his sword in the cause of the last monarch of the house of Clovis.

Pepin was not long allowed to enjoy his new dignity in peace, but was quickly called upon to exchange the amenities of the royal palace for the toils and dangers of the battle-field.

The Saxons had already recovered from, and were desirous of avenging, the chastisement inflicted upon them; and having rebelled “in their way”, were now marching upon the Rhine. But Pepin, who had not ceased to be a general when he became a king, collected a large army, with which he crossed the Rhine, and entering the territory of the Saxons, wasted it with fire and sword, and carried back a large number of captives into his own dominions. “When the Saxons saw this”, says the chronicler, “they were moved by penitence; and, with their usual fear, begged for the king’s mercy, declaring that they would take an oath of fidelity, and pay more tribute than they had ever paid before, and never revolt again. King Pepin returned, by the aid of Christ, in great triumph to Bonn”.

It was on his return from this campaign that he received the news of his brother Gripho’s death. This restless and unhappy prince—whom the indelible notion of his right to a throne rendered incapable of enjoying the noble fortune allotted to him by his brother—had fled to Waifar, Duke of Gascony, in the hope of inducing him to take up arms. But Waifar was not in a condition to protect him; and when the ambassadors of Pepin demanded that he should be given up, Gripho was obliged to seek another asylum. The fugitive then directed his course to King Haistulph, foreseeing, probably, that Pepin would be drawn into the feud between the Pope and the Longobards, the subjects of Haistulph, and therefore think­ing that he might already regard the latter as the enemy of his brother. As he was passing the Alps, however, with a small retinue, he was set upon, in the valley of St. Jean de Maurienne, by Count Theodo of Vienne and the Transjuran Count Friedrich. Gripho was slain, but not until after a desperate struggle, in which both the counts above mentioned also lost their lives.

Pepin now retired to his royal residence at Dietenhoven, on the Moselle, and spent the few months of peace that followed the Saxon war in ordering the affairs of the Church; which he effected chiefly through the instrumentality of ecclesiastical synods. The influence of these assemblies had very much increased since Boniface first summoned them, and their jurisdiction extended itself beyond the sphere of merely ecclesiastical matters into the wide and undefined field of public morals.

THE LONGOBARDS.