INVASION OF THE HUNS—ATTILA.

The fourth century of our era and the first half of the fifth were

characterized by the spirit of migration among all the peoples beyond

the Rhine. Representatives of every German village and district went

to Rome, and each brought back stories of the wealth and luxury

that existed there. They had the keen perception and the strength

to recognize the increasing weakness of the government, and also to

despise the enervation and corruption of its citizens. The German was

ambitious and restless as daily he regarded Rome more and more as his

prey. The Romans themselves saw the danger of the Empire and lived in

apprehension of overwhelming incursions long before they came. In the

latter part of the fourth century the great impulse was given to the

people of northern and eastern Europe by successive invasions from

Asia; and a vast and general movement began among them which resulted

in the disintegration of the Roman Empire, and the transfer of the

principal arena of history from the shores of the Mediterranean Sea

to the countries in which the great powers of modern Europe afterward

grew up. The first impulse to this series of events was given by

disturbances and migrations in central Asia, of whose cause hardly

anything is known. Long before the Christian era there was a powerful

race of Huns in northeastern Asia who became so dangerous to the

Chinese that the great wall of China was built as a defense against

them (finished B. C. 244).[E]

* * * * *

These Huns, a Mongol race, had migrated from the center of Asia

westward three-quarters of a century previously (A. D. 375), carrying

death and devastation on their path. They had nothing in common with

the peoples of the West, either in facial features or habits of life.

Contemporary historians describe them as surpassing by their savagery

all that can be imagined. They were of low stature, with broad

shoulders, thick-set limbs, flat noses, high cheek-bones, small eyes

deeply sunk in the sockets, and yellow complexion. Ammianus Marcellinus

compares them, in their monstrous ugliness, to beasts walking on two

legs, or the grinning heads clumsily carved on the posts of bridges.

They had no beard, because from infancy their faces were hideously

scarred by being slashed all over, in order to hinder its growth.

Accustomed to lead a wandering life in their native country, these wild

hordes traversed the Steppes, or boundless plains which lie between

Russia and China, in huge chariots, or on small hardy horses, changing

their stations as often as fresh pasture was required for their cattle.

Except constrained by necessity, they never entered any kind of house,

holding them in horror as so many tombs. They were accustomed from

infancy to endure cold, hunger, and thirst. As the great boots they

wore deprived them of all facility in marching, they never fought on

foot; but the skill with which they managed their horses and threw

the javelin, made them more formidable to the Germans than even the

disciplined, but less ferocious, legions of Rome.

This was the rude race which, bursting into Europe in the second half

of the fourth century, shook the whole barbarian world to its center,

and precipitated it upon the Roman Empire. The Goths fled before them,

when they passed the Danube, the Vandals when they crossed the Rhine.

After a halt of half a century in the center of Europe, the Huns put

themselves again in motion.

Attila, the king of this people, constrained all the tribes wandering

between the Rhine and the Oural to follow him. For some time he

hesitated upon which of the two empires he should carry the wrath of

heaven. Deciding upon the West, he passed the Rhine, the Moselle, and

the Seine, and marched upon Orleans. The populations fled before him in

indescribable terror, for the _Scourge of God_, as he was called, left

not one stone upon another wheresoever he passed. Metz and twenty other

cities had been destroyed. Troyes alone had been saved by its bishop,

Saint Loup. He wished to seize upon Orleans, the key of the southern

provinces; and his innumerable army surrounded the city. Its bishop,

St. Aignan, sustained the courage of the inhabitants by promising them

a powerful succor. Ætius, in fact, arrived with all the barbarian

nations encamped in Gaul, at the expense of which the new invasion was

made. Attila for the first time fell back; but in order to choose a

battle-field favorable for his cavalry, he halted in the Catalaunian

plains near Méry-sur-Seine. There the terrible shock of battle took

place. In the first onset the Franks, who formed the vanguard of Ætius,

fought with such animosity that 15,000 Huns strewed the plain. But

next day, when the great masses on both sides encountered, the bodies

of 165,000 combatants were left on that field of carnage. Attila was

conquered. The allies, however, not daring to drive the wild Huns to

despair, suffered Attila to retreat into Germany (451). In the year

following he made amends for his defeat by an invasion of northern

Italy, ravaging Aquileia, Milan, and other cities in a frightful

manner, but died of an apoplectic stroke (453), soon after his return,

and his empire fell with him, but not the terrible remembrance of his

name and of his cruelties. The Visigoths, whose king had perished in

the fight, and the Franks of Meroveus, had had, with Ætius, the chief

honor of that memorable day in the Catalaunian plains. For it had

become a question whether Europe should be German or Mongolian, whether

the fierce Huns or the Germans should found an empire on the ruins of

that which was then crumbling.[F]

FALL OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE—MANNERS AND MORALS OF THE GERMANS IN THIS

AGE.

The Western Empire had now but a short time to live. The dastardly

emperor Valentinian III., suspicious of the independent position of

Ætius, recalled the conqueror of Attila from Gaul, and slew him with

his own hand (A. D. 454). He was himself murdered soon after, and his

widow, Eudoxia, though forced to marry the assassin, determined to

avenge her husband. She invited the Vandals, for this purpose, from

Africa across the sea to Rome. This German tribe, still ruled by the

aged Genseric, was the only one which possessed a fleet; and by this

means the Vandals had already made themselves masters of the great

islands of the Mediterranean, of Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica. The

“sea-king” eagerly obeyed the summons (A. D. 455), and now “golden

Rome” was given up for fourteen days to his soldiers, and was sacked

with such horrors that the name of Vandal has ever since been a proverb

for barbarity and destruction. Yet the mediation of Leo the Great, then

Bishop of Rome, saved the city from utter ruin. From this time onward

the emperors, who followed one another in quick succession, were mere

tools of the German generals, and symbols of power before the common

people; for the whole imperial army now consisted of the remnants of

various German nations, who had sought service for pay. These too, at

last, like their kindred in the provinces, demanded lands in Italy, and

would have no less than one-third of the soil. When this was refused,

Odoacer, at the head of his soldiers—Heruli, Sciri, Turcilingi, and

Rugii, who forced their way thither from the Danube—put an end to the

very name of the Roman Empire, stripping the boy Romulus Augustulus,

the last emperor, of the purple, and ruling alone in Italy, as German

general and king. Thus the Western Empire fell by German hands, after

they had already wrested from it all its provinces, Africa, Spain, Gaul

and Britain. This occurred in the year 476. Ancient history ends with

this event; but in the history of the Germans it is merely an episode.

At the time of the great migrations, the German tribes were barbarians,

in that they were destitute alike of humanity toward enemies and

inferiors, and of scientific culture. Neither the pursuit of learning

nor the practice of mercy to the vanquished could seem to them other

than unmanly weakness. Their ferocity spread misery and ruin through

the whole arena of history, and made the fifth and sixth centuries of

our era the crowning epoch in the annals of human suffering; while

their active, passionate contempt for learning destroyed the existing

monuments of intelligence and habits of inquiry and thought, almost

as completely as they swept away the wealth, prosperity, and social

organization of the Roman world. Their ablest kings despised clerical

accomplishments. Even Theodoric the Great could not write, and his

signature was made by a black smear over a form or mould in which his

name was cut. Nevertheless these nations were not what we mean by

savages. Their originally beautiful and resonant language was already

cultivated in poetical forms, in heroic songs. There was intercourse

and trade among the several nations. Minstrels, especially, passed

from one royal court to another, and the same song which was sung to

Theodoric in Ravenna could be heard and understood by the Vandals

in Carthage, by Clovis in Paris, and by the Thuringians in their

fastnesses. A common language was a strong bond of union among these

nations. Messengers, embassies, and letters were sent to and fro

between their courts; gifts were exchanged, and marriages and alliances

entered into. Thus the nations were informed concerning one another,

and recognized their mutual relationship. It was this international

intercourse that gave rise to the heroic minstrelsy—a faithful relation

of the great deeds of German heroes during the migrations; but the

minstrel boldly transforms the order of events, and brings together

things which in reality took place at intervals of whole generations.

Thus they sing of Hermanric, of Theodoric the Great (Dietrich the

Strong, of Berne), and of his faithful knight Hildebrand; then of

the fall of the Burgundian kings, of the far-ruling Attila, and of

Sigurd, or Siegfried, who was originally a Northern god of spring, but

here appears as a youthful hero, faithful and child-like, simple and

unsuspicious, yet the mightiest of all—the complete image of the German

character.

These wild times of warfare and wandering could not, of course,

favorably affect morals and character. They did much to root out of

the minds and lives of the people their ancient heathen faith and

practices. Their old gods were associated with places, scenes, features

of the country and the climate; and, with these out of sight, the gods

themselves were easily forgotten. Moreover, the local deities of other

places and nations were brought into notice. The people’s religious

habits were broken up, their minds confused, and thus they were better

prepared than before to embrace the new and universal doctrines of

Christianity. But the wanderings had a bad effect on morality in all

forms. The upright German was still distinguished by his self-respect

from the false, faithless, and cowardly “Welshman,” whose nature had

become deformed through years of servitude. But Germans, too, were

now often guilty of faithlessness and cruelty; and some tribes grew

effeminate and corrupt, especially the Vandals in luxurious Africa.

They imitated the style of the conquered in dress, arms, and manner

of life; and some adopted their language also. For instance, even

Theodoric the Great corresponded in Latin with foreign monarchs; and as

early as the sixth and seventh centuries, the Germans recorded their

own laws in Latin, the West Goths and Burgundians introducing the

practice, which was followed by the Franks, Alemanni, Bavarians, and

Langobards. These laws, and the prohibitions they contain, are the best

sources of information upon the manners of the time, and especially

upon the condition of the lower orders, the peasants, and the slaves.

The most frequent cases provided are of bodily injuries, murder,

wounds, and mutilations, showing that the warlike disposition had

degenerated into cruelty and coarseness. For all these injuries, the

weregeld, or ransom, was still a satisfaction. The life of a nobleman,

that of a freeman, of a slave, and the members of the body—the eye,

ear, nose, and hand—were assessed each at a fixed money valuation,

to be paid by the aggressor, if he would not expose himself to the

vengeance of the wronged man or his family. But crimes committed by

peasants and slaves were punished by death, sometimes at the stake,

where freemen might escape by paying a fine. The oaths of parties and

witnesses were heard; and they were sustained by the oaths of others,

their friends, relations, or partisans, who swore that they were to

be believed. If an accused party swore that he was innocent, it was

only necessary for him to obtain a sufficient number of compurgators,

or jurors, of his own rank to swear that they believed him, in order

to secure acquittal. But the number required was much larger for men

of low rank than for the nobles; and the freedmen and slaves had no

rights of the kind, but were tortured at will to compel them to confess

or testify. The slaves were often tried by an ordeal, and were held

guilty of any accusation if they could not put their hands into boiling

water without harm. For freemen, if no other evidence were accessible,

a trial by battle was adopted, as an appeal to God’s judgment. The

heathen tribes in Germany proper—the Frisi, Saxons, Thuringians, and

Alemanni—lived on in their old ways; yet they too failed to maintain

the spotless character assigned them by Tacitus. It was a time of

general ferment. The new elements of civilization had brought with them

new vices, and the simplicity of earlier days could not survive.[G]

[To be continued.]

* * * * *

RIGHT well I know that improvement is a duty, and as we see man strives

ever after a higher point, at least he seeks some novelty. But beware!

for with these feelings Nature has given us also a desire to continue

in the old ways, and to take pleasure in that to which we have been

accustomed. Every condition of man is good which is natural and in

accordance with reason. Man’s desires are boundless, but his wants are

few. For his days are short, and his fate bounded by a narrow span. I

find no fault with the man who, ever active and restless, crosses every

sea and braves the rude extremes of every clime, daring and diligent in

pursuit of gain, rejoicing his heart and house by wealth.—_Goethe._

The Chautauquan, Vol. 04, November 1883 A Monthly Magazine Devoted to the Promotion of True Culture. Organ of the Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle. · 第 11 / 133 题