XI
ANASTASIUS
In order to complete our survey of the
foreign policy of the great Ostrogoth, we must now consider the relations which
existed between him and the majestic personage who, though he had probably
never set foot in Italy, was yet always known in the common speech of men as
"The Roman Emperor". It has been already said that Zeno, the
sovereign who bore this title when Theodoric started for Italy, died before his
final victory, and that it was his successor, Anastasius,
with whom the tedious negotiations were conducted which ended (497) in a
recognition, perhaps a somewhat grudging recognition, by the Emperor of the
right of the Ostrogothic king to rule in Italy.
Anastasius, who was Theodoric's
contemporary during twenty-five years of his reign, was already past sixty when
the widowed Empress Ariadne chose him for her husband
and her Emperor, and he had attained the age of eighty-eight when his harassed
life came to a close. A man of tall stature and noble presence, a wise
administrator of the finances of the Empire, and therefore one who both
lightened taxation and accumulated treasure, a sovereign who chose his servants
well and brought his only considerable war, that with Persia, to a successful
issue, Anastasius would seem to be an Emperor of whom
both his own subjects and posterity should speak favorably. Unfortunately,
however, for his fame he became entangled in that most wearisome of theological
debates, which is known as the Monophysite controversy. In this controversy he took an unpopular side; he became embroiled
with the Roman Pontiff, and estranged from his own Patriarch of Constantinople.
Opposition and the weariness of age soured a naturally sweet temper, and he was
guilty of some harsh proceedings towards his ecclesiastical opponents. Even
worse than his harshness (which did not, even on the representations of his
enemies, amount to cruelty) was a certain want of absolute truthfulness, which
made it difficult for a beaten foe to trust his promises of forgiveness, and
thus caused the fire of civil discord, once kindled, to smoulder on almost interminably. The religious party to which he belonged had probably
the majority of the aristocracy of Constantinople on its side, but the mob and
the monks were generally against Anastasius, and some
scenes very humiliating to the Imperial dignity were the consequence of this
antagonism.
(511) Once, when he had resolved on the
deposition of the orthodox Patriarch of Constantinople, Macedonius,
so great a tempest of popular and theological fury raged through the city, that
he ordered the great gates of his palace to be barred and the ships to be made
ready at what is now called Seraglio Point, intending to seek safety in flight.
A humiliating reconciliation with the Patriarch, the order for whose banishment
he rescinded, saved him from this necessity. The citizens and the soldiers
poured through the streets shouting triumphantly: "Our father is yet with
us!" and the storm for the time abated. But the Emperor had only appeared
to yield, and some months later he stealthily but successfully carried into
effect his design for the banishment of Macedonius.
Again, the next year, a religious faction-fight disgraced the capital of the
Empire.
(511) The addition of the words "Who wast crucified for us" to the chorus of the Te Deum,
"Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty", goaded the orthodox but
fanatical mob to madness. For three days such scenes as London saw during Lord
George Gordon's "No Popery" riots were enacted in the streets of
Constantinople. The palaces of the heterodox ministers were burned, their
deaths were eagerly demanded, the head of a monk, who was supposed to be
responsible for the heretical addition to the hymn, was carried round the city
on a pole, while the murderers shouted: "Behold the head of an enemy to the
Trinity!" Then the statues of the Emperor were thrown down, an act of
insurrection which corresponded to the building of barricades in the
revolutions of Paris, and loud voices began to call for the proclamation of a
popular general as Augustus. Anastasius this time
dreamed not of flight, but took his seat in the podium at the Hippodrome, the
great place of public meeting for the citizens of Constantinople. Thither, too,
streamed the excited mob, fresh from their work of murder and pillage, shouting
with hoarse voices the line of the Te Deum in its orthodox form. A suppliant,
without his diadem, without his purple robe, the white-haired Anastasius, eighty-two years of age, sat meekly on his
throne, and bade the criers declare that he was ready to lay down the burden of
the Empire if the citizens would decide who should assume it in his stead. The
humiliation was accepted, the clamorous mob were not really of one mind as to
the election of a successor, and Anastasius was
permitted still to reign and to reassume the diadem, which has not often
encircled a wearier or more uneasy head.
Such an Emperor as this, at war with a large
part of his subjects, and suspected of heresy by the great body of the Catholic
clergy, was a much less formidable opponent for Theodoric than the young and
warlike Clovis, with his rude energy, and his unquestioning if somewhat
truculent orthodoxy. Moreover, at this time, independently of these special
causes of strife, there was a chronic schism between the see of Rome and the see of Constantinople (precursor of
that great schism which, three centuries later, finally divided the Eastern and
Western Churches), and this schism, though it did not as yet lead to the actual
excommunication of Anastasius, caused him to be
looked upon with coldness and suspicion by the successive Popes of Rome, and
made the rule of Theodoric, avowed Arian as he was, but anxious to hold the
balance evenly between rival churches, far more acceptable at the Lateran than
that of the schismatic partisan Anastasius. (By order
of Pope Hormisdas the name of Anastasius was solemnly "erased from the diptychs" in 519; that is, he was
virtually excommunicated after his death, but I do not find that he was
formally excommunicated by the Pope in his life-time).
For some years after the embassy of Festus
(497) and the consequent recognition of Theodoric by the Emperor, there appears
to have been peace, if no great cordiality, between the courts of Ravenna and
Constantinople. But a war in which Theodoric found himself engaged with the
Gepidæ (504), taking him back as it did into his old unwelcome nearness to the
Danube, led to the actual outbreak of hostilities between the two States,
hostilities, however, which were but of short
duration.
The great city of Sirmium on the Save, the ruins of which may still be seen about eighty miles west of
Belgrade, had once belonged to the Western Empire and had been rightly looked
upon as one of the bulwarks of Italy. To anyone who studies the configuration
of the great Alpine chain, which parts off the Italian peninsula from the rest
of Europe, it will be manifest that it is in the north-east that that mountain
barrier is the weakest. The Maritime, Pennine, and
Cottian Alps, which soar above the plains of Piedmont and Western Lombardy,
afford scarcely any passes below the snow-line practicable for an invading
army. Great generals, like Hannibal and Napoleon, have indeed crossed them, but
the pride which they have taken in the achievement is the best proof of its
difficulty. Modern engineering science has carried its zig-zag roads up to their high crests, has thrown its bridges across their ravines, has
defended the traveller by its massive galleries from
their avalanches, and in these later days has even bored its tunnels for miles
through the heart of the mountains; but all these are works done obviously in
defiance of Nature, and if Europe relapsed into a state of barbarism, the
eternal snow and the eternal silence would soon reassert their supremacy over
the frail handiwork of man. Quite different from this is the aspect of the
mountains on the north-eastern border of Italy. The countries which we now call
Venetia and Istria are parted from their northern neighbours by ranges (chiefly that known as the Julian Alps) which are indeed of bold and
striking outline, but which are not what we generally understand by
"Alpine" in their character, and which often do not rise to a greater
elevation than four thousand feet. Therefore it was from this quarter of the
horizon, from the Pannonian (or in modern language,
Austrian) countries bordering on the Middle Danube, that all the greatest
invaders in the fifth and sixth centuries, Alaric, Attila, Alboin, bore down
upon Italy. And for this reason it was truly said by an orator (Ennodius) who was recounting the praises of Theodoric in
connection with this war: "The city of the Sirmians was of old the frontier of Italy, upon which Emperors and Senators kept watch,
lest from thence the stored up fury of the neighbouring nations should pour over the Roman Commonwealth".
This city of Sirmium,
however, and the surrounding territory had now been for many years divorced
from Italy. In Theodoric's boyhood it is possible that his own barbarian
countrymen, occupying as they did the province of Pannonia, lorded it in the
streets of Sirmium, which was properly a Pannonian city. Since the Ostrogoths evacuated the province
(473), the Gepidæ, as we have seen, had entered it, and it was a king of the
Gepidæ, Traustila, who sought to bar Theodoric's
march into Italy, and who sustained at the hands of the Ostrogothic king the
crushing defeat by the Hiulca Palus (488). Traustila's son, Trasaric,
had asked for Theodoric's help against a rival claimant to the throne, and had,
perhaps, promised to hand over possession of Sirmium in return for that assistance. Theodoric, who, as king of "the Hesperian
realm", felt that it was a point of honour to
recover possession of "the frontier city of Italy", gave the desired
help, but failed to receive the promised recompense. When Trasaric's breach of faith was manifest, Theodoric sent an army (504) composed of the
flower of the Gothic youth, commanded by a general named Pitzias,
into the valley of the Save. The Gepidaæ, though
reinforced by some of the Bulgarians (who about thirty years before this time
had made their first appearance in the country which now bears their name),
were completely defeated by Pitzias. Trasaric's mother, the widow of Theodoric's old enemy, Traustila, fell into the hands of the invaders; Trasaric was expelled from that corner of Pannonia, and Sirmium, still apparently a great and even opulent city,
notwithstanding the ravages of the barbarians, submitted, probably with joy, to
the rule of Theodoric, under which she felt herself once more united to the
Roman Commonwealth.
We have still (in the "Various
Letters" of Cassiodorus) two letters relating to this annexation of Sirmium. In the first, addressed to Count Colossæus, that "Illustrious" official is
informed that he is appointed to the governorship of Pannonia Sirmiensis, a former habitation of the Goths. This province
is now to extend a welcome to her old Roman lords, even as she gladly obeyed
her Ostrogothic rulers. Surrounded by the wild anarchy of the barbarous
nations, the new governor is to exhibit the justice of the Goths, "a
nation so happily situated in the midst of praise, that they could accept the
wisdom of the Romans and yet hold fast the valour of
the barbarians". He is to shield the poor from oppression, and his highest
merit will be to establish in the hearts of the inhabitants of the land the
love of peace and order.
To the barbarians and Romans settled in
Pannonia the secretary of Theodoric writes, informing them that he has
appointed as their governor a man mighty in name (Colossæus)
and mighty in deeds. They must refrain from acts of violence and from
redressing their supposed wrongs by main force. Having got an upright judge,
they must use him as the arbiter of their differences. What is the use to man
of his tongue, if his armed hand is to settle his cause, or how can peace be
maintained if men take to fighting in a civilised State? They are therefore to imitate the example of "our Goths", who
do not shrink from battles abroad, but who have learned to exhibit peaceable
moderation at home.
The recovery of Sirmium from the Gepidæ, though doubtless the subject of congratulation in Italy, was
viewed with much displeasure at Constantinople. Whether the part of Pannonia in
which it was included belonged in strictness to the Eastern or Western Empire,
is a question that has been a good deal discussed and upon which we have
perhaps not sufficient materials for coming to a conclusion. The boundary line
between East and West had undoubtedly fluctuated a good deal in the fourth and
fifth centuries, and the fact that there were not, as viewed by a Roman
statesman, two Empires at all, but only one great World-Empire, which for the
sake of convenience was administered by two Emperors, one dwelling at Ravenna
or Milan and the other at Constantinople, was probably the reason why that
boundary was not defined as strictly as it would have been between two
independent kingdoms. Moreover, through the greater part of the fifth century,
when Huns and Ostrogoths, Rugians and Gepidæ were
roaming over these countries of the Middle Danube, any claim of either the
Eastern or Western Emperor to rule in these lands must have been so purely
theoretical that it probably seemed hardly worth while to spend time in defining it. But now that the actual ruler of Italy, and that
ruler a strong and capable barbarian like Theodoric, was holding the great city
of Sirmium, and was sending his governors to civilise and subdue the inhabitants of what is now called
the "Austrian Military Frontier", the Emperor who reigned at
Constantinople was not unlikely to find his neighbourhood unpleasant.
It was doubtless in consequence of the
jealousy, arising from the conquest of Sirmium, that
war soon broke out between the two powers. Upper Mœsia (in modern geography Servia) was undoubtedly part of
the Eastern Empire, yet it is there that we next find the Gothic troops engaged
in war. (505) Mundo, the Hun, a descendant of Attila,
was in league with Theodoric, but at enmity with the Empire, and was wandering
with a band of freebooters through the half desolate lands south of the Danube. Sabinian, the son of the general of the same name,
who twenty-six years before had fought with Theodoric in Macedonia, was ordered
by Anastasius to exterminate this disorderly Hun.
With 10,000 men (among whom there were some Bulgarian fœderati),
and with a long train of waggons containing great
store of provisions, he marched from the Balkans down the valley of the Morava. Mundo, in despair and already thinking of surrender,
called on his Ostrogothic ally for aid, and Pitzias,
marching rapidly with an army of 2,500 young and warlike Goths (2,000 infantry
and 500 cavalry), reached Horrea Margi (about
half-way between Nisch and Belgrade), the place where Mundo was besieged, in time to prevent his surrender.
Notwithstanding the enthusiasm of the Gothic troops, the battle was most
stubbornly contested, especially by the fierce Bulgarians, but in the end Pitzias obtained a complete victory. We may state this fact
with confidence, as it is recorded in the chronicles of an official of the
Eastern Empire (Marcellinus Comes). He says of Sabinian: "Having joined battle at Horrea Margi, and many of his soldiers having been slain in this conflict and drowned
in the river Margus (Morava), having also lost all
his wagons, he fled with a few followers to the fortress which is called Nato. In this lamentable war so promising an army fell,
that, speaking after the manner of men, its loss could never be repaired".
Without any general campaign, the quarrel
between the Goths and the Empire seems to have smouldered on for three years longer. In his chronicle for the year 508, the same
Byzantine official who has just been quoted, says very honestly: "Romanus
Count of the Domestics and Rusticus Count of the Scholarii, with 100 armed ships and as many cutters,
carrying 8,000 soldiers, went forth to ravage the shores of Italy, and
proceeded as far as the most ancient city of Tarentum. Having recrossed the sea
they reported to Anastasius Cæsar this inglorious
victory, which in piratical fashion Romans had snatched from their
fellow-Romans".
These words of the chronicler show to what
extent Theodoric's kingdom was looked upon as still forming part of the Roman
Empire, and they also point to the difficulty of the position of Anastasius, who, whatever might be his cause of quarrel
with Theodoric, could only enforce his complaints against him by resorting to
acts which in the eyes of his subjects wore the unholy appearance of a civil
war.
Though we are not precisely informed when or
how hostilities were brought to a close, it seems probable that soon after this
raid, about the year 509, peace, unbroken for the rest of Theodoric's reign,
was re-established between Ravenna and Byzantium. The Epistle which stands in
the forefront of the "Various Letters" of Cassiodorus was probably
written on this occasion.
"Most clement Emperor", says
Theodoric, or rather Cassiodorus speaking in his name, "there ought to be
peace between us since there is no real occasion for animosity. Every kingdom
should desire tranquillity, since under it the people
flourish and the common good is secured. Tranquillity is the comely mother of all useful arts; she multiplies the race of men as they
perish and are renewed; she expands our powers, she softens our manners, and he
who is a stranger to her sway grows up in ignorance of all these blessings.
Therefore, most pious Prince, it redounds to your glory that we should now seek
harmony with your government, as we have ever felt love for your person. For
you are the fairest ornament of all realms, the safeguard and defence of the world; to whom all other rulers rightly look
up with reverence, inasmuch as they recognise that
there is in you something which exists nowhere else. But we pre-eminently thus
regard you, since by Divine help it was in your Republic that we learned the
art of ruling the Romans with justice. Our kingdom is an imitation of yours,
which is the mould of all good purposes, the only model of Empire, Just in so
far as we follow you do we surpass all other nations.
"You have often exhorted me to love the
Senate, to accept cordially the legislation of the Emperors, to weld together
all the members of Italy. Then, if you wish thus to form my character by your
counsels, how can you exclude me from your august peace? I may plead, too,
affection for the venerable city of Rome, from which none can separate
themselves who prize that unity which belongs to the Roman name.
"We have therefore thought fit to
direct the two Ambassadors who are the bearers of this letter to visit your
most Serene Piety, that the transparency of peace between us, which from
various causes hath been of late somewhat clouded, may be restored to-its
former brightness by the removal of all contentions. For we think that you,
like ourselves, cannot endure that any trace of discord should remain between
two Republics which, under the older Princes, ever formed but one body, and
which ought not merely to be joined together by a languid sentiment of
affection, but strenuously to help one another with their mutually imparted
strength. Let there be always one will, one thought in the Roman kingdom. ...
Wherefore, proffering the honourable expression of
our salutation, we beg with humble mind that you will not even for a time
withdraw from us the most glorious charity of your Mildness, which I should
have a right to hope for even if it were not granted to others. (The change
from We to I, which here occurs in the original, is puzzling.)
"Other matters we have left to be
suggested to your Piety verbally by the bearers of this letter, that on the one
hand this epistolary speech of ours may not become too prolix, and on the other
that nothing may be omitted which would tend to our common advantage".
The letter which I have attempted thus to
bring before the reader is one which almost defies accurate translation. It is
an exceedingly diplomatic document, full of courtesy, yet committing the writer
to nothing definite. The very badness of his style enables Cassiodorus to
envelop his meaning in a cloud of words from which the Quæstor of Anastasius perhaps found it as hard to extract a
definite meaning then, as a perplexed translator finds it hard to render it
into intelligible English now. It is certainly difficult to acquit Cassiodorus
of the charge of a deficient sense of humour, when we
find him putting into the mouth of his master, who had so often marched up and
down through Thrace, ravaging and burning, these solemn praises of "Tranquillity". And when we read the fulsome flattery
which is lavished on Anastasius, the almost
obsequious humbleness with which the great Ostrogoth, who was certainly the
stronger monarch of the two, prays for a renewal of his friendship, we may
perhaps suspect either that the "illiteratus Rex" did not comprehend the full meaning of the document to which he
attached his signature, or that Cassiodorus himself, in his later years, when,
after the death of his master, he republished his "Various Letters",
somewhat modified their diction so as to make them more Roman, more diplomatic,
more slavishly subservient to the Emperor, than Theodoric himself would ever
have permitted.
One other act of this Emperor must be
noticed, as illustrating the subject of the last chapter. When Clovis returned
in triumph from the Visigothic war (508) he found messengers awaiting him from Anastasius, who brought to him some documents from the
Imperial chancery which are somewhat obscurely described as "Codicils of
the Consulship". Then, in the church of St. Martin at Tours he was robed
in a purple tunic and chlamys, and placed apparently
on his own head some semblance of the Imperial diadem. At the porch of the
basilica he mounted his horse and rode slowly through the streets of the city
to the other chief church, scattering largesse of gold and silver to the
shouting multitude. "From that day", we are told, "he was
saluted as Consul and Augustus".
The name of Clovis does not, like that of
Theodoric, appear in the Fasti of Imperial Rome, and
what the precise nature of the consulship conferred by the "codicils"
may have been, it is not easy to discover. But there is no doubt that the
authority which Clovis up to this time had exercised by the mere right of the
stronger, over great part of Gaul, was confirmed and legitimised by this spontaneous act of the Augustus at Constantinople, nor that this eager
recognition of the royalty of the slayer of Alaric was meant in some degree as
a demonstration of hostility against Alaric's father-in-law, with whom Anastasius had not then been reconciled.
The coalition of Eastern Emperor and
Frankish King boded no good to Italy. Perhaps could the eye of Anastasius have pierced through the mists of seven future
centuries, could he have foreseen the insults, the extortions, the cruelties
which a Roman Emperor at Constantinople was to endure at the hands of
"Frankish" invaders, he would not have been so eager in his worship
of the new sun which was rising over Gaul from out of the marshes of the
Scheldt.
The remainder of the life of Clovis seems to
have been chiefly spent in removing the royal competitors who were obstacles to
his undisputed sway over the Franks. Doubtless these were kings of a poor and
barbarous type, with narrower and less statesmanlike views than those of the
founder of the Merovingian dynasty; but the means employed to remove them were
hardly such as we should have expected from the eldest Son of the Church, from
him who had worn the white robe of a catechumen in the baptistery at Rheims.
His most formidable competitor was Sigebert, king of
the Ripuarian Franks, that is the Franks dwelling on
both banks of the Rhine between Maintz and Koln, in
the forest of the Ardennes and along the valley of the Moselle. But Sigebert, who had sent a body of warriors to help the
Salian king in his war against the Visigoths, was now growing old, and among
these barbarous peoples age and bodily infirmity were often considered as to
some extent disqualifications for kingship. Clovis accordingly sent messengers
to Cloderic, the son of Sigebert,
saying: "Behold thy father has grown old and is lame on his feet. If he
were to die, his kingdom should be thine and we would
be thy friends". Cloderic yielded to the
temptation, and when his father went forth from Koln on a hunting expedition in
the beech-forests of Hesse, assassins employed by Cloderic stole upon him in his tent, as he was taking his
noon-tide slumber, and slew him. The deed being done, Cloderic sent messengers to Clovis saying: "My father is dead and his treasures are
mine. Send me thy messengers to whom I may confide such portion of the treasure
as thou mayest desire". "Thanks", said
Clovis, "I will send my messengers, and do thou show them all that thou
hast, yet thou thyself shalt still possess all".
When the messengers of Clovis arrived at the palace of the Ripuanan, Cloderic showed them all the royal hoard. "And
here", said he, pointing to a chest, "my father used to keep his gold
coins of the Empire". (In hanc arcellolam solitus erat pater meus numismata auri congerere.) "Plunge thy hand in", said the
messenger, "and search them down to the very bottom". The King
stooped low to plunge his hand into the coins, and while he stooped the
messenger lifted high his battle-axe and clove his skull. "Thus",
says the pious Gregory, who tells the story, "did the unworthy son fall
into the pit which he had digged for his own
father".
When Clovis heard that both father and son
were slain, he came to the same place (probably Colonia) where all these things
had come to pass and called together a great assembly of the Ripuarian people. "Hear", he said, "what
hath happened. While I was quietly sailing down the Scheldt, Cloderic, my cousin's son, practised against his father's life, giving forth that I wished him slain, and when he
was fleeing through the beech-forests he sent robbers against him, by whom he
was murdered. Then Cloderic himself, when he was displaying
his treasures, was slain by some one, I know not
whom. But in all these things I am free from blame. For I cannot shed the blood
of my relations: that were an unholy thing to do. But since these events have
so happened, I offer you my advice if it seem good to you to accept it. Turn
you to me that you may be under my defence".
Then they, when they heard these things, shouted approval and clashed their
spears upon their shields in sign of assent, and raising Clovis on a buckler
proclaimed him their king. And he receiving the kingdom and the treasures of Sigebert added the Ripuanans to
the number of his subjects. "For", concludes Gregory, Bishop of
Tours, to whom we owe the story of this enlargement of the dominions of his
hero, "God was daily laying low the enemies of Clovis under his hand and
increasing his kingdom, because he walked before him with a right heart and did
those things which were pleasing in his eyes".
This ideal champion of orthodoxy in the
sixth century then proceeded to clear the ground of the little Salian kings,
his nearer relatives and perhaps more dangerous competitors. Chararic had failed to help him in his early days against Syagrius. He was deposed: the long hair of the Merovingians
was shorn away from his head and from his son's head, and they were consecrated
as priest and deacon in the Catholic Church. Chararic wept and wailed over his humiliation, but his son, to cheer him, said, alluding
to the loss of their locks: "The wood is green, and the leaves may yet
grow again. Would that he might quickly perish who has done these things!"
The words were reported to Clovis, who ordered both father and son to be put to
death, and added their hoards to his treasure, their warriors to his host.
Chararic had not gone forth to the battle
against Syagrius, but Ragnachar of Cambray had given Clovis effectual help in that
crisis of his early fortunes. However Ragnachar, by
his dissolute life and his preposterous fondness for an evil counsellor named Farro, had given
great offence to the proud Franks, his subjects. Just as James I. said of the
forfeited estates of Raleigh: "I maun hae the land, I maun hae it for Carr", so Ragnachar said whenever anyone offered him a present, or whenever a choice dish was
brought to table: "This will do for me and Farro".
Clovis learned and fomented the secret discontent. He sent to the disaffected
nobles amulets and baldrics of copper-gilt--which they in their simplicity took
for gold,--inviting them to betray their master. The secret bargain being
struck, Clovis then moved his army towards Cambray.
The anxious Ragnachar sent scouts to discover the
strength of the advancing host. "How many are they?" said he on their
return. "Quite enough for thee and Farro",
was the discouraging and taunting reply: and in fact the soldiers of Ragnachar seem to have been beaten as soon as the battle
was set in array. With his hands bound behind his back, Ragnachar and his brother Richiar were brought into the
presence of Clovis. "Shame on thee", said the indignant king,
"for humiliating our race by suffering thy hands to be bound. It had been
better for thee to die--thus", and the great battle-axe descended on his
head. Then turning to Richiar, he said: "If thou hadst helped thy brother, he would not have been
bound"; and his skull too was cloven with the battle-axe. Before many days
the traitorous chiefs discovered the base metal in the ornaments which had
purchased their treason, and complained of the fraud. "Good enough
gold", said Clovis, "for men who were willing to betray their lord to
death"; and the traitors, trembling for their lives under his frown and
fierce rebuke, were glad to leave the matter undiscussed.
Thus in all his arguments with the weaker
creatures around him the Frankish king was always right. It was always they,
not he, who had befouled the stream. In this, shall I say, shameless
plausibility of wrong, the founder of the Frankish monarchy was a worthy
prototype of Louis XIV and of Napoleon.
Having slain these and many other kings, and
extended his dominions over the whole of Gaul, he once, in an assembly of his
nobles, lamented his solitary estate. "Alas, I am but a stranger and a
pilgrim, and have no kith or kin who could help me if adversity came upon
me". But this he said, not in real grief for their death, but in guile, in
order that if there were any forgotten relative lurking anywhere he might come
forth and be killed. None, however, was found to answer to the invitation.
Like all his family, Clovis was short-lived,
though not so conspicuously short-lived as many of his descendants. He died at
forty-five, in the year 511, five years after the battle of the Campus Vogladensis. He was buried (511) in the Church of the Holy
Apostles at Paris, and his kingdom, consolidated with so much labor and at the
price of so many crimes, was partitioned among his four sons.
The aged Emperor Anastasius survived his Frankish ally seven years, and died in the eighty-ninth year of
his age, 8th July, 518. His death was sudden, and some later writers averred
that it was caused by a thunderstorm, of which he had always had a peculiar and
superstitious fear. Others declared that he was inadvertently buried alive,
that he was heard to cry out in his coffin, and that when it was opened some
days after, he was found to have gnawed his arm. But these facts are not known
to earlier and more authentic historians, and the invention of them seems to be
only a rhetorical way of putting the fact that he died at enmity with the Holy
See.
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