At the time of the Anglo-Saxon invasion of England, and for three
centuries later, the history of France and Germany were one and the
same.
The Roman Empire, in its decrepitude, found it a difficult task to
retain its dominion over Gaul, and so enlisted the Franks as allies.
Thus was made a breach in the wall between the Kelt and the Teuton,
through which in time flowed an irresistible German torrent,
intermingling with the former population, and, by virtue of its
superior strength, spreading itself over the land in permanent
dominion; and when Clovis, their Frankish leader, drove out from Gaul
the last remnant of Roman power, in 483 of our era, all connection with
the expiring empire was severed. The loose confederation of tribes was
gathered by the strong hand of the conquering Frank under one head, and
Clovis was proclaimed king, with hereditary rights for his children.
With this event the doors close upon antiquity, and we are in the path
which leads swiftly to modern history.
Clovis, the son of Merowig, gave his name to the dynasty thus founded.
One of his first acts was the renouncing of paganism, through the
influence of his wife, Clotilde, so that from their very birth France
and Germany were Christian, while England lingered for centuries under
pagan rule.
The grandchildren of Clovis and Clotilde, Siegfried and Brunhilde, were
the heroes of the "Niebelungen Lied," and their adventures inspired not
alone the great German epic, but have lent to the greatest music of
modern times its majestic, heroic swing.
The real Brunhilde did not immolate herself upon her husband's funeral
pile, as in the musical romance, but an end more tragic and vastly more
terrible was hers. After being tortured for three days, her hair was
tied to the tail of a fiery horse, spurs plunged into his sides, and
the unhappy queen was ground to fragments upon the stones of the Rue
St. Honore, Paris, where this tragedy occurred about the year 600 A.D.
But the heroic strain in the Merovingian blood soon exhausted itself.
The kings became effeminate, luxurious, and, after a time, too indolent
even to govern, and finally gave entire control of state affairs to a
royal steward, known as "_maire du palais_" or _major domus_, who was
indeed king _de facto_, with authority supreme over the king himself.
Pepin was the last of these royal stewards. Conscious of his own
superior fitness, he took the crown from the long, perfumed locks of
the last Merovingian king and placed it upon his own head. What matter
that he had no drop of royal blood in his veins? He held the sceptre
with firm hand, by the divine right of ability, leaving it upon his
death to his second son Charlemagne, who was destined to wield it by
divine right of born conqueror and ruler of men.