Four hundred years of the Roman dominion had entirely tamed the once
wild and independent Gauls. Everywhere, except in the moorlands of
Brittany, they had become as much like Romans themselves as they could
accomplish; they had Latin names, spoke the Latin tongue, all their
personages of higher rank were enrolled as Roman citizens, their chief
cities were colonies where the laws were administered by magistrates in
the Roman fashion, and the houses, dress, and amusements were the same
as those of Italy. The greater part of the towns had been converted
to Christianity, though some Paganism still lurked in the more remote
villages and mountainous districts.
It was upon these civilized Gauls that the terrible attacks came from
the wild nations who poured out of the centre and east of Europe. The
Franks came over the Rhine and its dependent rivers, and made furious
attacks upon the peaceful plains, where the Gauls had long lived in
security, and reports were everywhere heard of villages harried by wild
horsemen, with short double-headed battleaxes, and a horrible short
pike, covered with iron and with several large hooks, like a gigantic
artificial minnow, and like it fastened to a long rope, so that the prey
which it had grappled might be pulled up to the owner. Walled cities
usually stopped them, but every farm or villa outside was stripped of
its valuables, set on fire, the cattle driven off, and the more healthy
inhabitants seized for slaves.
It was during this state of things that a girl was born to a wealthy
peasant at the village now called Nanterre, about two miles from
Lutetia, which was already a prosperous city, though not as yet so
entirely the capital as it was destined to become under the name of
Paris. She was christened by an old Gallic name, probably Gwenfrewi,
or White Stream, in Latin Genovefa, but she is best known by the late
French form of Genevieve. When she was about seven years old, two
celebrated bishops passed through the village, Germanus, of Auxerre, and
Lupus, of Troyes, who had been invited to Britain to dispute the false
doctrine of Pelagius. All the inhabitants flocked into the church to
see them, pray with them, and receive their blessing; and here the sweet
childish devotion of Genevieve so struck Germanus, that he called her to
him, talked to her, made her sit beside him at the feast, gave her his
special blessing, and presented her with a copper medal with a cross
engraven upon it. From that time the little maiden always deemed herself
especially consecrated to the service of Heaven, but she still remained
at home, daily keeping her father's sheep, and spinning their wool as
she sat under the trees watching them, but always with a heart full of
prayer.
After this St. Germanus proceeded to Britain, and there encouraged his
converts to meet the heathen Picts at Maes Garmon, in Flintshire, where
the exulting shout of the white-robed catechumens turned to flight the
wild superstitious savages of the north,--and the Hallelujah victory was
gained without a drop of bloodshed. He never lost sight of Genevieve,
the little maid whom he had so early distinguished for her piety.
After she lost her parents she went to live with her godmother, and
continued the same simple habits, leading a life of sincere devotion
and strict self-denial, constant prayer, and much charity to her poorer
neighbors.
In the year 451 the whole of Gaul was in the most dreadful state of
terror at the advance of Attila, the savage chief of the Huns, who came
from the banks of the Danube with a host of savages of hideous features,
scarred and disfigured to render them more frightful. The old enemies,
the Goths and the Franks, seemed like friends compared with these
formidable beings whose cruelties were said to be intolerable, and of
whom every exaggerated story was told that could add to the horrors
of the miserable people who lay in their path. Tidings came that this
'Scourge of God', as Attila called himself, had passed the Rhine,
destroyed Tongres and Metz, and was in full march for Paris. The whole
country was in the utmost terror. Everyone seized their most valuable
possessions, and would have fled; but Genevieve placed herself on the
only bridge across the Seine, and argued with them, assuring them in a
strain that was afterwards thought of as prophetic, that, if they would
pray, repent, and defend instead of abandoning their homes, God would
protect them. They were at first almost ready to stone her for thus
withstanding their panic, but just then a priest arrived from Auxerre,
with a present for Genevieve from St. Germanus, and they were thus
reminded of the high estimation in which he held her; they became
ashamed of their violence, and she held them back to pray and to arm
themselves. In a few days they heard that Attila had paused to besiege
Orleans, and that Aetius, the Roman general, hurrying from Italy, had
united his troops with those of the Goths and Franks, and given Attila
so terrible a defeat at Chalons that the Huns were fairly driven out of
Gaul. And here it must be mentioned that when the next year, 452,
Attila with his murderous host came down into Italy, and after horrible
devastation of all the northern provinces, came to the gates of Rome, no
one dared to meet him but one venerable Bishop, Leo, the Pope, who, when
his flock were in transports of despair, went forth only accompanied by
one magistrate to meet the invader, and endeavor to turn his wrath side.
The savage Huns were struck with awe by the fearless majesty of the
unarmed old man. They conducted him safely to Attila, who listened
to him with respect, and promised not to lead his people into Rome,
provided a tribute should be paid to him. He then retreated, and, to the
joy of all Europe, died on his way back to his native dominions.
But with the Huns the danger and suffering of Europe did not end. The
happy state described in the Prophets as 'dwelling safely, with none
to make them afraid', was utterly unknown in Europe throughout the long
break-up of the Roman Empire; and in a few more years the Franks were
overrunning the banks of the Seine, and actually venturing to lay siege
to the Roman walls of Paris itself. The fortifications were strong
enough, but hunger began to do the work of the besiegers, and the
garrison, unwarlike and untrained, began to despair. But Genevieve's
courage and trust never failed; and finding no warriors willing to run
the risk of going beyond the walls to obtain food for the women and
children who were perishing around them, this brave shepherdess embarked
alone in a little boat, and guiding it down the stream, landed beyond
the Frankish camp, and repairing to the different Gallic cities, she
implored them to send succor to the famished brethren. She obtained
complete success. Probably the Franks had no means of obstructing the
passage of the river, so that a convoy of boats could easily penetrate
into the town, and at any rate they looked upon Genevieve as something
sacred and inspired whom they durst not touch; probably as one of the
battle maids in whom their own myths taught them to believe. One account
indeed says that, instead of going alone to obtain help, Genevieve
placed herself at the head of a forage party, and that the mere sight
of her inspired bearing caused them to be allowed to enter and return
in safety; but the boat version seems the more probable, since a single
boat on a broad river would more easily elude the enemy than a troop of
Gauls pass through their army.
But a city where all the valor resided in one woman could not long
hold out, and in another inroad, when Genevieve was absent, Paris was
actually seized by the Franks. Their leader, Hilperik, was absolutely
afraid of what the mysteriously brave maiden might do to him, and
commanded the gates of the city to be carefully guarded lest she
should enter; but Geneviere learnt that some of the chief citizens were
imprisoned, and that Hilperik intended their death, and nothing could
withhold her from making an effort in their behalf. The Franks had made
up their minds to settle, and not to destroy. They were not burning and
slaying indiscriminately, but while despising the Romans, as they
called the Gauls, for their cowardice, they were in awe of the superior
civilization and the knowledge of arts. The country people had free
access to the city, and Genevieve in her homely gown and veil passed by
Hilperik's guards without being suspected of being more than an ordinary
Gaulish village maid; and thus she fearlessly made her way, even to the
old Roman halls, where the long-haired Hilperik was holding his wild
carousal. Would that we knew more of that interview--one of the most
striking that ever took place! We can only picture to ourselves the
Roman tessellated pavement bestrewn with wine, bones, and fragments of
the barbarous revelry. There were untamed Franks, their sun-burnt hair
tied up in a knot at the top of their heads, and falling down like
a horse's tail, their faces close shaven, except two moustaches, and
dressed in tight leather garments, with swords at their wide belts. Some
slept, some feasted, some greased their long locks, some shouted out
their favorite war songs around the table which was covered with
the spoils of churches, and at their heads sat the wild, long-haired
chieftain, who was a few years later driven away by his own followers
for his excesses, the whole scene was all that was abhorrent to a pure,
devout, and faithful nature, most full of terror to a woman. Yet, there,
in her strength, stood the peasant maiden, her heart full of trust and
pity, her looks full of the power that is given by fearlessness of them
that can kill the body. What she said we do not know--we only know
that the barbarous Hilperik was overawed; he trembled before the
expostulations of the brave woman, and granted all she asked--the safety
of his prisoners, and mercy to the terrified inhabitants. No wonder that
the people of Paris have ever since looked back to Genevieve as their
protectress, and that in after ages she has grown to be the patron saint
of the city.
She lived to see the son of Hilperik, Chlodweh, or, as he was more
commonly called, Clovis, marry a Christian wife, Clotilda, and after
a time became a Christian. She saw the foundation of the Cathedral
of Notre-Dame, and of the two famous churches of St. Denys and of
St. Martin of Tours, and gave her full share to the first efforts for
bringing the rude and bloodthirsty conquerors to some knowledge of
Christian faith, mercy, and purity. After a life of constant prayer and
charity she died, three months after King Clovis, in the year 512, the
eighty-ninth of her age.
[Footnote: Perhaps the exploits of the Maid of Orleans were
the most like those of Genevieve, but they are not here
added to our collection of 'Golden Deeds,' because the
Maid's belief that she was directly inspired removes them
from the ordinary class. Alas! the English did not treat her
as Hilperik treated Genevieve.]