The precise birth-place of the greatest man of the middle ages is
unknown; neither have any records come down to us of his education, nor any
particulars of those early years which are generally ornamented by the
imagination of after biographers, even when the subject of their writing has
left his infancy in obscurity. Eginhard, who possessed the best means of
knowledge, frankly avows that he was himself ignorant; and the manuscript of a
contemporary author, whose propensity to anecdote gives a value to his details,
which neither the style of his composition, nor the accuracy of his statements,
could bestow, is defective in that part which might have afforded some
information, however vague, regarding the youth of Charlemagne. The year of his
birth, however, as ascertained by computation from other data, seems
undoubtedly to have been AD 742, about seven years before his father, Pepin the
Brief, assumed the name of King.
His mother was Bertha, daughter of Charibert,
Count of Laon; and concerning her early union with
Pepin, a thousand pleasant fables have supplied the place of all accurate
information. Although one of the papal epistles to Charlemagne insinuates that
Pepin at one time contemplated a separation from Bertha, for the purpose of
marrying another woman, it is evident that she was loved and honored by her
husband, from the fact of her having shared in the new and solemn spectacle by
which Pepin attempted to consecrate, in the eyes of the people, his usurpation
of the supreme authority.
To the forms usually observed on the accession of a new monarch of the
Francs, Pepin added various ceremonies which had never before been used in
Gaul. Amongst these, the most striking, from its novelty, was the unction which
bad been instituted for the kings of Israel, and which was readily performed
for the Frankish usurper by the famous Boniface, Archbishop of Metz. In all the
solemnities which dignified the elevation of her husband, Bertha was a partaker;
and many have been the laborious struggles of historians to discover, or
invent, various complex and political motives for so very natural an
occurrence; but it would seem, that the simple desire of distinctly marking
that his personal elevation to the royal station implied the elevation of his
whole family, and the permanence of the kingly office in his race, was the sole
view of the new sovereign of the Francs. The influence which she exercised over
her husband, and the reverence which her children always displayed towards her,
render it probable that to Bertha herself was entrusted the early education of
Charlemagne. Still it is greatly to be regretted, that we do not possess any
details of the tuition under which the mind of that prince put forth, between
infancy and manhood, those grand and splendid qualities which, hidden in the
darkness that overhangs his youth, shine out immediately on his accession to
the throne, like the rising of a tropical day, which, we are told, bursts forth
at once in its splendor, unannounced by the slow progress of the dawning
twilight.
Nevertheless, although nothing is known of the minute particulars either
of his domestic instruction or his early habits, there was a grander species of
education to which he was subject, and of which we have better means of
judging: I mean the education of circumstances. It is a common influence of
troublous times, not alone to bring forward, but to form great intellect. The
familiarity with scenes of danger and excitement—the early exercise of thought
upon great and difficult subjects—the habit of supporting, encountering, and
vanquishing, the very proximity of mighty schemes and mighty changes,—must
necessarily give expansion, vigor, and activity, to every faculty of the mind,
as much as robust exercises and habitual hardships strengthen and improve the
body. In the midst of such uncertain and eventful times, and surrounded by such
grand and animating circumstances, was passed the youth of Charlemagne, and
though we cannot discover whether paternal or maternal care afforded the means
of cultivating his intellect or directing his pursuits, to a mind naturally
great and comprehensive, like his own, the world was a sufficient school—the
events by which he was surrounded sufficient instructors.
CORONATION OF HIS FATHER
The first act performed before his eyes was the consummation of all his
ancestor’s ambitious glory, by the mighty daring of his own father: and this
instance of the ease with which great deeds are achieved by great minds, was a
practical lesson and a powerful incitement. The first act of his own life—a
task which combined both dignity and beneficence—was to meet, as deputy for his
father, the suppliant chief of the Roman church, and to conduct him with honor
to the monarch’s presence. The event in which he thus took part, and which
afterwards affected the current of his whole existence, originated in the
unhappy state of Rome, which I have before slightly noticed, and in the
continual and increasing pressure of the Lombards upon that unstable republic
which had arisen in Italy, after its separation from the empire of the East.
The second and third Gregory had in vain implored the personal succor of
Charles Martel to defend the Roman territory from the hostile designs of their
encroaching neighbors; and Zacharias, who had succeeded to the authority and
difficulties of those two pontiffs, had equally petitioned Pepin for some more
effectual aid than remonstrances addressed to the
dull ear of ambition, and menaces which began to be despised.
Under Stephen, who followed Zacharias, and ascended the
papal chair soon after the elevation of Pepin to the sovereign power, the
danger of Rome became still more imminent; for Astolphus, the Lombard King,
contemning alike the threats of an avenger who did not appear, and the
exhortations of a priest who had no means of resistance, imposed an immense
tribute on the citizens of Rome, and prepared to enforce the payment by arms.
But by this time the popes or bishops of Rome had established a stronger claim
upon the rulers of France than that which they had formerly possessed. The
instability of Pepin’s title to the crown, had made
him eager to add a fictitious authority to the mutable right of popular
election; and, having, as we have before seen, joined to the voice of the
people the sanction of the Pope, he divided between two, a debt which might
have been dangerous or burdensome while in the hands of one. By this means,
however, he gave to the Roman pontiffs a claim and a power; and Stephen now
resolved to exert it in the exigency of his country.
In the moment of immediate danger, when Rome was threatened by hostile
armies, and her fields swept by invading barbarians, the prelate, with a worthy
boldness, set out from the ancient queen of empires, as a suppliant, determined
to apply, first for justice and immunity at the court of Astolphus, the King of
the Lombards, and, in case of rejection, then for protection and vengeance, at
the hands of the new monarch of the Francs. Astolphus was deaf to all
petitions, and despised all threats. Ravenna had fallen, and Rome he had
determined to subdue. But the Pope pursued his way in haste; and, traversing
the Alps, set his foot with joy on the territories of a friend and an ally. The
French monarch was then returning from one of his victorious expeditions against
the Saxons; and the messengers from Stephen met him on the banks of the Moselle.
The most common of all accusations against the human heart, and, I might
add, against the human mind, is ingratitude. But in an uncivilized state of
society, where rights are less protected, and mankind depend more on the
voluntary reciprocation of individual benefits and assistance, than on fixed
rules and a uniform government, the possession of such emotions as gratitude
and generosity, would seem to be more necessarily considered as a virtue, and the want of them more decidedly as a crime, than in periods
or in countries, where the exertions of each man is sufficient for his own
support, and the law is competent to the protection of all.
CHARLES SENT TO WELCOME STEPHEN II ON HIS ARRIVAL IN FRANCE
Besides a feeling of obligation towards the Roman pontiffs, which the
new sovereign did not hesitate a moment to acknowledge and obey, the call of
the Pope was perfectly consonant to Pepin’s views and
disposition, as a man, a king, and a warrior. To welcome the Bishop of Rome,
therefore, the monarch instantly dispatched his eldest son Charles, then
scarcely twelve years of age, and every honor was paid to the head of the
Catholic church that reverence or gratitude could inspire.
This is the first occasion on which we find Charlemagne mentioned in
history; but the children of the Francs were trained in their very early years
to robust and warlike exercises; and there is every reason to believe that
great precocity, both of bodily and mental powers, fitted the prince for the
office which was entrusted to him by his father.
From the distinction with which Pepin received the prelate, and from the
bold and candid character of that monarch, little doubt can exist that he at
once determined to protect the Roman state from the exacting monarch of the
Lombards, by the effectual and conclusive interposition of arms. The King of
the Francs, however, had still something to demand at the hands of the Pope;
and the remonstrance of Astolphus, who pleaded hard by his envoys against the
proposed interference, raised Pepin to the character of umpire and judge,
enhanced the value of his mediation, and gave him a claim, not likely to be
rejected, for some return on the part of Stephen. In regard to many of the
particular circumstances of this time, contemporary historians are silent; and
Anastasius, who lived at a later period, when the papal power had obtained, in
a great measure, the ascendancy which it so long possessed, is so evidently
incorrect in regard to several of the numerous details he gives, that great
caution is necessary in receiving his account.
CHARLEMAGNE IS CROWNED WITH HIS FATHER
With those anxious fears for the stability of his authority which must
always attend usurpation, Pepin eagerly sought every means of strengthening his
title to the throne of France; and, not content with the pontifical sanction
already given, determined on obtaining from the Pope, during his visit of
supplication, some new act of recognition and consecration. On a positive
promise of aid from the monarch of the Francs, Stephen formally absolved him
for the breach of his oath of allegiance to Childeric; and repeated the
ceremony of his coronation in the church of St Denis. Nor were precautions
wanting, to guard against any future exercise of the same popular power, which
had snatched the crown from one monarch, and bestowed it on another. The Pope
launched his anathema at all those who should attempt to deprive the
Carolingian line of the throne they had assumed; and Charles and Carloman, the two sons of Pepin, were crowned together with
their parents, by the hands of the Roman pontiff.
As he had chosen by the papal sanction to prop his authority, originally
raised upon the sandy foundation of popular election, the French monarch was of
course moved by every principle of prudence, as well as by the remembrance of
his promise, to strengthen and support the Roman church. Almost immediately on
the arrival of the Pope, Pepin dispatched messengers to Astolphus, requiring
him to abandon his demands upon the city of Rome, and to cease his aggressions
on the Roman territory. Astolphus refused to comply; but, as he well knew the
power of the Frankish nation, he sought to avert the storm which threatened him
before he prepared to encounter it. Carloman, the
brother of Pepin, who had resigned his inheritance in France, abandoned the
world, and sought the best desire of human nature, peace, in the shade of the
cloister, was at that time dwelling in a monastery, within the limits of the
Lombard dominions. The eye of Astolphus immediately fell upon him, as a
fit messenger to his brother; and he was compelled by the orders of his abbot
to journey into France, and to oppose, at the court of the French monarch, the
wishes and designs of the pontiff.
A custom, which must be more particularly noticed hereafter, existed at
this time amongst the Francs, of determining upon war or peace, at the great
assembly of the nation, in what was called a Champ de Mars; and though the Maires of the Palace had frequently violated this ancient
institution, Pepin, who courted popularity, called upon his people, in almost
all instances, to sanction any warfare he was about to undertake.
In the present case, where greater and more important interests were
involved, he did not fail to add the consent of the nation to his own
determination; and, at the Champ de Mars, held after his coronation, he
announced to the nobles of the land his resolution of defending Rome from her
enemies by force of arms. In the same assembly, his brother Carloman is said to have remonstrated publicly against this purpose; but the assertion
is founded on the faith of after historians, whose evidence is doubtful, if not
inadmissible. In the dim obscurity which hangs over these far ages, the
more important facts only appear distinct; and those which are clearly known,
in regard to the transactions of which we speak, are simply, that the nobles of
France, concurred completely in the views of the king, and that Pepin marched
with an immense army towards the frontiers of Italy; leaving Bertha, his wife,
and Carloman, his brother, at Vienne, in Dauphiny, where Carloman died
before the monarch’s return from his Italian expedition.
THE OPPRESSION OF THE LOMBARDS
The Lombards, warned of the approaching invasion, immediately occupied
the passes of that mountain barrier, which nature has placed for the defence of
the Italian peninsula. A battle was fought amongst the hills; the Lombards were
defeated; and the Francs poured down into the ancient territories of the
Romans. Pepin marched forward with that bold celerity, which distinguished all
his race; and at once laid siege to Pavia, within the walls of which Astolphus
had taken refuge. The war was carried on by the Francs with all the unsparing
activity of a barbarous nation: and, while the Lombard capital was invested on
all sides, bands of plunderers were spread over the country to ravage, pillage,
and destroy.
Astolphus at length submitted to the power he was in no condition to
resist; and, opening a negotiation with Pepin, he agreed to yield the
exarchate, and the Pentapolis, which the monarch of the Francs had pledged
himself to reannex to the territories of Rome. Forty
distinguished hostages were given to ensure the performance of the treaty; and
Pepin retired from Italy, satisfied that he had compelled the restitution of
possessions which had been unjustly withheld.
Perhaps the most important point of discussion in the history of the
middle ages is now before us, and one, in regard to which, a greater variety of
different opinions has been offered and maintained, than any other question has
elicited. The formal and distinct connection of the exarchate of Ravenna, and
the territories of the Pentapolis, with the Roman domains, forms the basis of
the temporal throne of the Popes, and, consequently, has been a subject of warm
contestation in all its parts, between the friends and the enemies of the Romish church.
It is neither necessary nor fitting here, to state even the most
prominent of the many conclusions to which authors have come upon this
question; nor to endeavor to refute errors or correct mistakes, farther than by
a simple statement of the ascertained facts, and a few deductions from them.
When Italy threw off the dominion of the Emperors of the East, its
language was more submissive than its actions; and the authority of the empire
was acknowledged long after its arms were resisted, and its power was at an
end. As some sort of government, however, was absolutely necessary, the Romans,
as I have already stated, recalled many of the forms of the old republic, and
though tacitly submitting to their Popes, or Bishops, who led, counseled, and
protected them, they still, as a senate and people, named their own governors,
and entrusted that portion of their freedom which they were obliged to
sacrifice for defence, to whomsoever their own wisdom or necessities might
dictate. The office of exarch, which had been instituted by the Emperors
for the government of their Italian provinces, was still continued by the Roman
people as a means of obtaining protection; and the persons who filled it were
by them elected, under the names, which had become synonymous, of Exarch or
Patrician.
By fraud or violence, and probably by both, the Lombards, who had first
armed in defence of the Romans against the Emperors, took possession of Ravenna
and its dependencies; but the Popes never ceased to claim that territory,
originally in behalf of the Roman people, and ultimately in the name of the
Roman church.
UNION OF THE EXARCHATE AND PENTAPOLIS TO ROME
The rulers of the Francs, beginning with Charles Martel, had been
successively elected by the senate and people of Rome to the post of Patrician,
or Exarch; and, consequently, were bound, by the fact of accepting that office,
to maintain the integrity of the Roman territory. Pepin, therefore, in his
expedition against Astolphus, was only fulfilling one of the duties of the exarchonate, and reannexed the
recovered tract to the rest of the appendages of Rome, rather as an act of
restitution, than of donation. As the separation of Italy from the empire of
the East had originated in an ecclesiastical dispute, the interests of the
state became identified with that of the church. Gradually, in after ages, the
Popes acquired the supreme power over the whole territory; and, anxious to find
a title of more weight than mere possession, they assumed that the act of Pepin
was the gift of a province, conquered by the Frankish king, directly bestowed
upon the see of Rome, rather than a successful
campaign of the exarch for the recovery of a province belonging to the
republic. They afterwards attempted to support this pretence by a
supposititious donation of a part at least of the same district by Constantine;
and the Pontiff, in their letters, alluded more and more strongly, as the
progress of years obscure the memory of realities, to fictitious rights which
fictitious gifts had created.
Whatever was the nature of Pepin’s restoration
of the Exarchate and Pentapolis, the terms in which it was expressed were
verbal; and even in the famous letter of Pope Adrian to Charlemagne, wherein he
boldly declares the donation of Constantine, which was supposed to have taken
place in remote and indistinct times, he touches most tenderly upon those after
gifts of the same territory which were subject to immediate examination and
refutation.
Individual ambition continually defeats its purpose by hurrying too rapidly
towards its object; but a number of men, in long succession, conducting a
permanent establishment, in which their own personal interests are entirely
merged, often acquire a fearful superiority to those around them, by the calm
regularity of their progress in advance, and the passionless caution by which
they secure each advantage as it is obtained. The march of the papal power was
slow and gradual. The Exarchate was reannexed to
Rome; the Pontiffs subsequently chose to believe it bestowed upon the church,
and on that hypothesis founded their temporal dominion, while, by similar
means, they extended the limits of their spiritual authority. Nevertheless
events, which will soon come under review, will show that the monarchs of the
Francs looked upon the whole transaction in a different light, and considered
all the temporal, and part even of the ecclesiastical, power in the provinces
which they had restored to Rome, as still vested in themselves in their quality
of Patrician, or Exarch. Although the youth of the Frankish nation were often
permitted to bear arms at a very early period of life, it does not appear
whether Charlemagne did, or did not, accompany his father in the first
expedition against the Lombards. Several years follow, in the records of that period,
without mention of the future monarch. During that lapse of time, Pepin again
invaded Lombardy, in order to enforce the execution of the treaty which
Astolphus had entered into the year before, and which he had unscrupulously
broken, as soon as the sword of the Franc was withdrawn from his throat. The
Lombard king was again driven to submission, and forced to begin the
restitution which was demanded; but he did not live to complete it; and, after
his death, which took place in consequence of a fall from his horse,
Desiderius, who had commanded a part of his troops, was elected King of the
Lombards, by the influence and support both of Pepin and the Pope,—a subject of
which I must necessarily speak more hereafter.
In the mean time, Charlemagne continued to advance towards manhood.
Successive wars, the fruits of a barbarous and unsettled state of society,
where rights were undetermined, and law was in its infancy, afforded a
continual school for the acquisition of that military knowledge and that corporeal
strength, which, in those times, supplied the place of science in government,
and talent in command. Early taught by his father all that was then known of
warfare as an art, Charlemagne had but too frequent opportunities of gaining
practical experience. It is more than probable, from the known habits of his
nation, that he accompanied his father in most of his campaigns; but the first
occasion on which he is decidedly stated by the chronicles to have followed the
King to any of the many military expeditions which consumed the reign and the
talents of Pepin, was on the renewal of the war with Waifar, Duke of Aquitaine,
whose ambitious turbulence neither clemency could calm, nor punishment repress.
WAR IN AQUITAINE
This struggle with the Dukes of Aquitaine, which continued with greater
or less activity during two hundred years, is worthy of some attention. At that
time, as already remarked, the right of succession was, in most cases, vague
and undefined, and in none more so than in the transmission of the crown.
Indeed, there are many reasons for believing that the chiefs of the Francs were
originally elective, t as was the case also with the Lombards, and that the royal office became hereditary by
the progress of gradual innovation and customary submission. However this might
be, it seems clear, that the Dukes of Aquitaine had some immediate connection
with the Merovingian Kings of France, and some collateral claim upon the throne
itself—the existence of which claim and connection, has caused much greater
disputes amongst the antiquaries of modern times, than it did amongst the
princes of their own day.
It does not appear, in any degree, that this title was put forth, or
considered of consequence, in the times to which this book refers. Pepin was seated
safely on the throne; the Dukes of Aquitaine are never found to have disputed
his right; and their consanguinity with the Merovingian Kings would be unworthy
attention, were it not necessary to show, that they stood in a different
relationship to the French monarchs from the other dukes or governors of
provinces, and claimed the territory they possessed, not indeed as independent
sovereigns, but as hereditary, though subordinate princes, holding their feof,—or beneficium, as it was
called under some circumstances,—not by the will of the reigning monarch, but
in right of clear descent.
On various occasions, the Merovingian Kings themselves endeavored to
restrict the power of the Dukes of Aquitaine to the same limits as that enjoyed
by the simple governors of a province; and the charter of Charles the Bald
expressly states, many years afterwards, that they only possessed the duchy of
Aquitaine in the name of the Kings of France. Nevertheless, it is beyond doubt,
that Dagobert, to end the continual claims of the
children of his brother Charibert, granted to his
nephews the whole of Aquitaine as a perpetual lordship, on condition of tribute
and homage; which is the first clear instance of a direct hereditary feof. Standing thus in a position totally different from
that of any other of the French noble of the time, the Dukes of Aquitaine were
continually trying the new and unascertained power which they held, against the
monarchs by whom it had been conceded, and still more frequently against the maires of the palace, who afterwards governed in their
name.
In the time of Charles Martel, Eudes, Duke of
Aquitaine, was constantly in revolt, whatever phantom king shadowed the
Merovingian throne; and all the moderation of the hero of that age, could never
bind the turbulent prince to his alliance, nor all the exercise of his
tremendous power, awe him to obedience and to peace. Continually defeated, Eudes still rose from his temporary submission, and, the
moment that the presence of his conqueror was removed, allied himself to anyone
who would aid him in the breach of those promises and treaties which fear and
necessity had alone extorted. Charles, on the contrary, still triumphed and
forgave; and, although the Duke of Aquitaine had even leagued with the
Saracens, at once the enemies of his faith and his country, their defeat was
followed by his pardon.
After the death of Eudes, the same turbulent
spirit descended with the inheritance; and, though the territories he left were
divided between his three sons, the rulers of the French found that the enmity
of the Dukes of Aquitaine was transmitted entire. Hunald,
who, as eldest of the three, had received Aquitaine for his portion, was soon
forced to submit, by Charles Martel, and did homage, not to the Kings of
France, but to the Maire of the Palace. Yet the
spirit of revolt subsisted still; and no sooner had death unnerved the hand of
the victor, than Hunald was once more in arms,
plundering the provinces of Pepin and Carloman. Again
subdued, the courage of the Duke sank. Remorse for having blinded his brother
Hatton, operated, together with superstition and disappointment, to give him a
temporary disgust to the world; and, resigning his territories to his son
Waifar, he retired into the cloister,
No greater degree of tranquility accrued to France from this change in
the government of Aquitaine; for Waifar proved still more rebellious and
turbulent than his predecessor; and Pepin had soon to take arms, in order to
put an end to his incursions. Several of these expeditions against Aquitaine
are mentioned in the chronicles of the time; but that in which Charlemagne
first appears in a military character, is marked as having been preceded by two
years of peace,—an extraordinary duration of tranquility, in times when the
scepter ever implied the sword.
The nominal cause of warfare, on the present occasion, was the plunder
of church property by Waifar; and, on the approach of Pepin, the Duke promised
immediate restitution, at the same time giving hostages for his future conduct.
In those days, falsehood seems to have been sufficiently frequent to teach
caution to the most unsuspecting; yet credulity—always a quality of an infant
state of society—was carried to a very extraordinary height. Pepin, after having
been repeatedly deceived, again trusted his rebellious subject; and Waifar,
who, by his apparent submission, had alone sought to gain time for preparation,
forgot his promises as soon as he could collect an army; threw off his
allegiance; and, adding outrage to revolt, advanced into the territories of
France, ravaging the country with fire and sword.
But the vengeance of the monarch was prompt and powerful. Accompanied by
his eldest son, Pepin took the field, entered Aquitaine at the head of immense
forces, and, with rapidity almost incredible, subdued the whole province, from
Auvergne to Limoges. Here Charlemagne had one of those examples of grand and
extraordinary celerity in the movement of immense armies, which he afterwards
so often practiced himself with magnificent success. In the course of a very
few weeks, many hundred miles of an enemy’s territory were conquered. Speed set
preparation at defiance, and surprise changed resistance into terror. In this,
as in almost all other wars, the people were made the expiatory sacrifice, to
atone for the faults of their rulers. Blood and flame wrapped one of the finest
districts in France, and ruin and destruction marked the consequences of the
vassals’ revolt, and the vengeance of the sovereign.
DEATH OF
REMISTAN
During four years Pepin pursued the war against Aquitaine, displaying
many instances of extreme clemency and extreme rigor, the causes of which
dissimilarity of conduct, at different times, must remain in darkness; as the
chronicles of that age do not explain the motives, and the historians of after
years have only substituted hypotheses for facts. The greater part of the
revolted country at length submitted, and Remistan,
the uncle of Waifar, himself joined the party of the king, and bound himself,
by the most solemn oaths, to aid the monarch as a vassal and a friend. His
engagements, though voluntary, were as frail as those of the rest of his family
and but a short time elapsed before he was again in arms against the sovereign
who had trusted him, pursuing his designs with all the acrimonious virulence of
conscious treachery.
The territory of Limoges and Bourges, where Pepin had built himself a
palace, and established his residence, was ravaged by the orders of this
faithless ally; and, not content with simple aggression, Remistan had the criminal boldness to appear, with hostile purposes, within sight of the
monarch he had insulted, and the friend he had betrayed.
The fate he courted soon overtook him. Not long after he had presented
himself before Bourges, he was taken in an ambush laid by some of the officers
of the king, and was brought bound into the royal presence.
The character of Pepin might doubtless have derived a fictitious air of
magnanimity in the eyes of after ages, from a display of clemency on this
occasion; but it can hardly be denied, that mercy to Remistan,
after the gross treachery he had committed, and the blood he had caused to
flow, would have been anything but mercy to the rest of France.
The justice of his execution, which has been denied, depended upon
whether he maintained rights as an independent monarch, and was a conquered
king, rather than an arrested subject. The fact, however, is clear, that,
whatever were his original claims to royalty, his ancestors had renounced them
in a thousand instances; and also that, whatever force had been used to compel
that renunciation on their part, he himself had acknowledged voluntarily the
sovereignty of Pepin, and had actually served him as his liegeman. Unless,
therefore, rights are to be looked upon as mere matters of caprice, and
obedience to an established government is to be granted and withdrawn, at the
pleasure of each individual, Remistan was in reality
the treacherous and revolted vassal of the French king; and, while his pardon
would have been an act of folly, his punishment was but a deed of justice.
No clemency was shown: Remistan was instantly
condemned and hung; and the war of Aquitaine was soon after terminated for the
time, by the death of Waifar, who appears to have been slain by the hands of
his attendants, probably instigated by Pepin himself. On this point, it is
true, we have no certain information, the only passage in the ancient
chronicles which hints at the agency of the French monarch in the death of his
rebellious vassal, leaving the matter still as a doubtful report.
Such means of destroying an enemy were but too common at that period;
and, though the frequency of the fact can in no degree be brought forward to
justify or even palliate a great moral offence, it at all events gives more
probability to the rumor of its having been committed.
Pepin had many motives for seeking to bring the war in Aquitaine to as
speedy a conclusion as possible, amongst which was the defection of Tassilo, Duke of Bavaria, who, but a short time before, had
sworn allegiance to him, and acknowledged himself in the most solemn manner a
vassal of the crown of France. The precise duties which he took upon himself by
this oath and acknowledgment, we do not discover; nor is it easy to distinguish
what was the distinction at that time between this higher class of vassals, and
the inferior nobles more immediately within the jurisdiction of the monarch.
The feudal system, the seeds of which had been long sown, was beginning to rise
in different directions; but was far from possessing that great and
extraordinary form which it afterwards assumed. Each particular age in the
world’s history brings forth the peculiar institution suited to the character
of society at the time; but it does so slowly and by degrees, as necessity
prompts the desire of alteration, and experience presents the mode. No sudden
and general changes have ever been attended with permanent success, for
although, by reiterated experiment, and the accumulated experience of many, it
is impossible to say what degree of perfection may be ultimately reached, it
would seem that the mind of man is incapable of conceiving at once any great
and universal system. Each age may improve upon the last; and each individual
epoch may produce and perfect the scheme of society necessary for itself,—at
once the consequence of its existence, and the type of its character. But still
the creation of great institutions is like the sculpture of a statue, and a
thousand slight blows from Time's chisel are required, to change the marble
ruggedness of the mass into the perfect and harmonious form.
At the time of which I now speak, the feudal system, the chief
institution of the middle ages, was yet in its first rudeness, and a number of
accidental circumstances were still required to give it consistency, solidity,
and extent. It is impossible, and would be of little use, to trace all the
events which contributed to that effect. The revolt and subjection of
vassals—the power of some monarchs and the weakness of others—the rights of
different orders, mutually wrung from each other—and the imperative necessity
of some fixed barrier, however frail, between the claims of various
classes,—gradually produced a state of society fitted to those times, and those
times alone.
Amongst these causes were such insurrections as those of Waifar and of Tassilo. But though Pepin succeeded in subduing the former,
and in annexing almost the whole of Aquitaine to the crown, the complete
subjection of the dukedom of Bavaria was reserved for his successor.
DEATH OF
PEPIN
On his return from his last and most successful expedition against
Waifar, the monarch of the Francs was seized with a low fever at Saintes, which preyed severely upon a constitution shaken
by mighty cares and never ceasing activity. His first resource under the
depression of sickness, was a humble petition for aid at the shrine of St
Martin of Tours, which had been rendered famous as a place of marvelous cure,
by the folly and ignorance of the age, and the impudence and talent of its
prelates. But the malady of the King was not one of those in which mental
medicine can prove efficacious; and, however great might be his faith or
superstition, Pepin returned, weaker and nearer to death than he went. He then
proceeded to Paris; and took up his abode in the monastery of St Denis, where
his sickness each day advanced more and more rapidly. At length, the period
came when the approach of death forced itself upon his conviction; and after
having, with the consent of the principal men of the kingdom, divided his whole
dominions between his two sons, Charles, (afterwards called Charlemagne,) and Carloman the younger, he died at the age of fifty-three.
Between Pepin and his father, Charles Martel, there existed a strong
point of resemblance in their excessive promptitude of resolution, and their
wonderful rapidity of execution, which qualities combined, formed the great
secret of their power and their success. In other respects they differed from
each other essentially. Charles Martel, despising the superstition of the day,
oppressed the church; and, contented with his own power, contemned and
circumscribed that of the nobility. Pepin, on the contrary, with greater
ambition and greater piety, courted both the clergy and the nobles; and easily
did away the phantom king, under the shadow of whose name Charles Martel had
been satisfied to rule severely the other orders of the state.
Charles Martel left to his sons the regal power. Pepin transmitted to
his children both the power and the name,—which is in all ages a great
addition. As in war, an earthen mound, which an infant could crawl over with
ease while unopposed, becomes, when defended, an important post; so in policy a
mere title, which, abstractedly considered, is but air, very often becomes, in
the struggle of contending parties, a mighty barrier and a strong defence.
In assuming the hereditary title of his Merovingian predecessors,
however, Pepin unfortunately adopted also their system of dividing the
succession—a system which had distracted the dominion of their race, and proved
the destruction of his own