Gaul had been Latinized and Christianized. Now one more thing was
needed to prepare her for a great future. Her fibre was to be
toughened by the infusion of a stronger race. Julius Caesar had shaken
her into submission, and Rome had chastised her into decency of
behavior and speech, but as her manners improved her native vigor
declined. She took kindly to Roman luxury and effeminacy, and could no
longer have thundered at the gates of her neighbors demanding "land."
But at last the great Roman Empire was dying, and even degenerate Gaul
was struggling out of her relaxing grasp. In her extremity she called
upon the Franks, a powerful Germanic race, to aid her. This people had
long looked with covetous eyes at the fair fields stretching beyond the
Rhine, and lost no time in accepting the invitation. They overspread
the land, and Gaul and Roman alike were submerged beneath the Teuton
flood, while the Frankish Conqueror, Clovis (son of the great
Merovaaeus), was at Paris (or "Lutetia") wearing the kingly crown.
Such was the beginning of independent and of dynastic life in France.
Rome had found a more powerful ally than she hoped; and the desire of
Gaul was accomplished in that she was free from Rome. But the king of
whom she had dreamed was of her own race; not this terrible Frank. Had
she exchanged one servitude for another? Had she been, not set free,
but simply annexed to the realm of the Barbarian across the Rhine? Let
us say rather that it was an espousal. She had brought her dowry of
beauty and "land," that most coveted of possessions, and had pledged
obedience, for which she was to be cherished, honored, and protected,
and to bear the name of her lord.
* * * * *
Ancient heroes are said to be seen through a shadowy lens, which
magnifies their stature. Let us hope that the crimes of the three or
four generations immediately succeeding Clovis have been in like manner
expanded; for it is sickening to read of such monstrous prodigality of
wickedness. Whole families butchered, husbands, wives,
children--anything obstructing the path to the throne--with an atrocity
which makes Richard III. seem a mere pigmy in the art of intrigue and
killing. The chapter closes with the daughter and mother of kings
(Brunehilde or Brunhaut) naked and tied by one arm, one leg and her
hair to the tail of an unbroken horse, and amid jeers and shouts dashed
over the stones of Paris (600 A.D.).
But even the Frank succumbed to the enervating Gallic influence. The
Merovingian line commenced by Clovis faded from ferocity into
imbecility. Its Kings in less than two centuries had become mere
lay-figures, wearing the symbols of an authority which existed nowhere,
unless in the _Maire du Palais_.
This office from being a sort of royal stewardship had grown to be the
governing power _de facto_. While Theodoric, the Phantom King, was
having his long locks dressed and perfumed, his _Maire du Palais_,
Charles, was moulding and welding his kingdom, and at the same time
staying the Mohammedan flood which was pouring over the Pyrenees; and,
by his final and decisive blow in defence of the Christianity espoused
by Clovis, earning the name _Charles Martel_ (the hammer).
* * * * *
Less than one hundred years after the death of Clovis, there had come
out of Asia, that birthplace of religions, a new faith, which was
destined to be for centuries the scourge of Christendom, and which
to-day rules one-third of the human family. Zoroaster, Buddha, Christ,
had successively come with saving message to humanity, and now (600
A.D.) Mohammed believed himself divinely appointed to drive out of
Arabia the idolatry of ancient Magianism (the religion of Zoroaster).
Christianity had passed through strange vicissitudes. Kings, Emperors,
Popes, and Bishops had been terrible custodians of its truths, and
while many still held it in its primitive purity, ecclesiastics were
fiercely fighting over the nature of the Trinity, the divinity of the
Virgin Mother, and the Church was shaken to its foundation by furious
factions.
In this hour of weakness, the Persians (590 A.D.) had conquered Asia
Minor. Bethlehem, Gethsemane, and Calvary were profaned; the Holy
Sepulchre had been burned, and the cross carried off amid shouts of
laughter. Magianism had insulted Christianity, and no miracle had
interposed! The heavens did not roll asunder, nor did the earth open
her abysses to swallow them up. There was consternation and doubt in
Christendom.
Such was the state of the Church when Mohammedanism came into
existence. "There is but one God, and Mohammed is his Prophet." Such
was its battle-cry and its creed, and the moral precepts of the Koran
its gospel. There seems nothing in this to account for the mad
enthusiasm and the passion for worship in its followers. But in less
than a hundred years this lion out of Arabia had subjected Syria,
Mesopotamia, Egypt, Northern Africa, and the Spanish Peninsula. Now,
sword in one hand, and the Koran in the other, the Mohammedan had
crossed the Pyrenees and was in Southern Gaul.
Under the strange magic of this faith, the largest religious empire the
world had known had sprung into existence, stretching from the Chinese
Wall to the Atlantic; from the Caspian to the Indian Ocean; and
Jerusalem, the metropolis of Christianity-Jerusalem, the Mecca of the
Christian, was lost! The crescent floated over the birthplace of our
Lord, and notwithstanding the temporary successes of the Crusades, it
does to this day.
If the Pyrenees were passed, the very existence of Christendom was
threatened. Charles Martel, the grandfather of Charlemagne, averted
this danger when he stayed the infidel flood at the battle of Tours,
732 A.D.
Pepin, the son of Charles Martel, who succeeded him as _Maire du
Palais_, does not seem to have had the temper or spirit of an usurper,
but simply to have been an energetic, resolute man who was bored by the
circumlocution of governing through a King who did not exist. He
determined to put an end to the fiction, and to cut the Gordian knot by
first cutting the long curls of the last Merovingian, Childeric; and
then putting the crown upon his own head, he sent the unfortunate
phantom of royalty to a monastery, to reflect upon the uncertainty of
human pleasures and events. By right of manhood and superiority, the
Carlovingian line had succeeded to the Merovingian.
* * * * *
Against the dark background of European history, and with the broad
level of obscurity stretching over the ages at its feet, there rises
one shining pinnacle. Considered as man or sovereign, Charlemagne is
one of the most impressive figures in history. His seven feet of
stature clad in shining steel, his masterful grasp of the forces of his
time, his splendid intelligence, instinct even then with the modern
spirit, all combine to elevate him in solitary grandeur.
Charlemagne found France in disorder measureless, and apparently
insurmountable. Barbarian invasion without, and anarchy within; Saxon
paganism pressing in upon the North, and Asiatic Islamism upon the
South and West; a host of forces struggling for dominion in a nation
brutish, ignorant, and without cohesion.
It is the attribute of genius to discern opportunity where others see
nothing. Charlemagne saw rising out of this chaos a great resuscitated
Roman empire, which should be at the same time a spiritual and
Christian empire as well. Saxons, Slavs, Huns, Lombards, Arabs, came
under his compelling grasp; these antagonistic races all held together
by the force of one terrible will, in unnatural combination with
France. No political liberties, no popular assemblies discussing
public measures; it is Charlemagne alone who fills the picture; it is
absolutism,--marked by prudence, ability, and grandeur, but still,
absolutism.
The Pope looked approvingly upon this son of the Church by whose order
4,500 pagan heads could be cut off in one day, and a whole army
compelled to baptism in an afternoon. Here was a champion to be
propitiated! Charlemagne, on the other hand, saw in the Church the
most compliant and effective means to empire. In the loving alliance
formed, he was to be the protector, the Pope the protected. He wore
the Church as a precious jewel in his crown.
It was a splendid dream, splendidly realized; the most imposing of
human successes, and the most impressive of human failures. It seems
designed as a lesson for the human race in the transitory nature of
power applied from without.
The vast fabric passed with himself; was gone like a shadow when he was
gone. The unity of the Empire was buried in the grave of its founder.
In twenty-nine years (by the treaty of Verdun) three kingdoms emerged
from the crumbling mass. France, Italy, Germany, already separated by
race repulsions, had taken up each a distinct national existence, the
Imperial crown remaining with Germany.
And France--France, the centre of this dream of unity, with her native
incohesiveness, and in the irony of fate, had broken into no less than
59 fragments, loosely held together by one Carlovingian King.