The historians' history of the world in twenty-five volumes, volume 07

CHAPTER VI

Chapter 559,563 wordsPublic domain

CHARLEMAGNE’S SUCCESSORS TO THE TREATY OF VERDUN

[814-843 A.D.]

LOUIS LE DÉBONNAIRE, OR PIOUS (814-840 A.D.)

Charlemagne’s successor, Louis le Débonnaire,[139] did not restore vanished prestige by any of his own. We may praise his goodness, his virtue, the purity of his morals, the efforts he made from the beginning of his reign to rid the court of that license which Charlemagne had allowed to enter, and his re-establishment of the necessary discipline among the monks and secular clergy; but he had not the firmness required to maintain authority. From the beginning he showed a deference to the pope that Charlemagne would have felt excessive. He allowed Stephen IV (816) to be elected and take possession of the pontificate without his consent, and was pacified by tardy excuses. When Stephen came to crown him in France, he permitted him to pronounce words which revealed the tendency of the holy see to arrogate to itself the free disposal of the imperial crown: “Peter glorifies himself in making you this present because you assure him the enjoyment of his just rights.”

[Sidenote: [817-822 A.D.]]

The papacy was already working for its second deliverance, eager to reject the authority of the Western emperors as it had rejected that of the Eastern. If Charlemagne had judged it expedient to divide authority with his sons on account of the extent of the empire, a still stronger necessity existed for Louis le Débonnaire to do the same. But his division of the states, accomplished at the Reichstag held at Aachen in July, 817, did not differ in any respect from that made by Charlemagne, and neither brought imperial unity into doubt or peril. Two subordinate kingdoms--Aquitaine and Bavaria--were created for Pepin and Louis [Ludwig]. Lothair, the eldest son, was associate emperor, or co-regent.[b]

Louis did not attribute the appointment of Lothair as co-regent and his own future successor to his own will and choice alone, but also to that of his people. Agobardus[d] does not make any mention of Bernhard and Italy, though, in the records, they have not been entirely omitted. The chronicle narrates that the kingdom of Italy shall stand in the same relation to the empire under his son as it did under his father and himself. The arrangements concerning the two younger sons of the emperor Louis were carefully weighed and considered. Pepin, the elder, received Aquitaine, Gascony, the mark of Toulouse, and a few west-Frankish and Burgundian countries. To the younger, Ludwig, were assigned Boiaria (Bavaria) and Carentania (Carinthia) with the mark of the Slavonic Avars. Each received the title of king, but great stress was laid upon the fact that they were vassals of the emperor, and neither in war nor peace, nor in any foreign relations whatsoever, should the two younger brothers act independently of the elder. Their territories, again, should not be divided up among their descendants; even the voice of their people was essential to the choice of their successors.

We can appreciate the importance of these decisions by comparing them with the ordinance of 806, which actually contemplated the existence of three independent realms bound together by mutual loyalty. The idea of the empire as finally adopted by Charlemagne was thus firmly adhered to. A decision was also arrived at, providing for the maintenance of the empire in the event of the death of Louis without legitimate heirs; one of his brothers was to succeed him, so that primogeniture would have been the result. Louis reserved to himself absolute power over his sons for the term of his natural life.

These imperial resolutions have frequently been interpreted as signifying a division, whereas nothing of the sort was contemplated, for all the rules, as laid down, aimed at the unity of the empire, with the exception of a few concessions made to hereditary rights. They were nothing more nor less than an attempt to co-ordinate the two principles upon which the empire was based, namely unity and the right of succession. The right of inheritance was founded upon long-established custom, as laid down on the death of King Pepin. On the other hand, the empire was the outcome of a political idea, which had arisen since that time, and which constituted the substance of all power. At that moment the idea of unity was predominant.[c]

But these fresh efforts were afterwards ill sustained, and already, by the movement which was agitating the confines of the empire, it was plain that the strong hand of Charlemagne was no longer there. The Northmen redoubled their ravages; the Slavs crossed the Elbe; the Avars rose; the Croats became independent; the duke of Benevento refused tribute; the African Saracens pillaged Corsica and Sardinia; those of Spain invaded Septimania and supported the Gascons in revolt; the Bretons took Morvan as king and invaded Neustria. The Franks, it is true, had the advantage everywhere. Morvan in particular was killed, and Louis made Nomenoé duke of the Bretons.

[Sidenote: [822-833 A.D.]]

But soon the disheartening feebleness of the emperor became known. “In 822 he convoked a general assembly at Attigny consisting of the bishops, abbots, and noblemen of his kingdom, and before them all made public confession of his faults and submitted at their pleasure to penance for all he had done, both to his nephew Bernhard or to others.” When Theodosius humbled himself before St. Ambrose at Milan he presented a grand spectacle to the world, and rose higher after the public avowal of his faults. Louis’ confession at Attigny was less esteemed, and degraded him because from a political body, an authority rivalling his own, he received absolution. Thenceforth everyone knew how far he could venture with such a man.

His second wife (819) was the beautiful and gifted Judith, the daughter of the Bavarian chief, and by her he had a son whom he named Charles (823). She, with her favourite, Bernhard, duke of Septimania, a skilful and intriguing man, exercised great influence over both emperor and empire. In 829 she prevailed upon her husband to give a portion to the child she had borne him, and finally, in the Diet of Worms (829) he established a kingdom for his son composed of Alamannia, Rætia, part of Burgundy, Provence and Gotha (Septimania and the Spanish marks).

This division greatly enraged the eldest sons of Louis, as they conceived themselves slighted thereby. The partisans of unity, who saw the agreement of 817 compromised, and the nobles joined with the discontented sons in the hope of overthrowing the influence of Judith and Bernhard--an influence which diminished their credit. The revolt broke out in an expedition against the Bretons, to whom Nomenoé had just given independence. Lothair, Pepin of Aquitaine, and Ludwig of Bavaria took arms against their father, made him prisoner and shut him up at Compiègne with the monks hoping that they might induce him to adopt a monastic life. At the same time they sent the empress and her son into a convent (830). The constitution of 817 was re-established. Louis le Débonnaire, however, obtained that the general assembly which was to make statutes for this new state of affairs should be convoked at Nimeguen in the midst of the Germans in whom he trusted. This trust was justified. The Germans outnumbered the Roman Franks and carried the day (830). A wily monk prevented discord among the three brothers, and Louis le Débonnaire, now master once more, confirmed the gift he had made to his fourth son. In 833 he did more, for, weary of Pepin’s perpetual intrigues, he took Aquitaine from him and gave it to Charles. This was the signal for a fresh revolt. The emperor’s sons marched against him, carrying with them Pope Gregory IV, who had come to France to defend the division of 817. Was Gregory for unity? Yes, but it was for a unity which resulted from the act of 817, that is, for a weak emperor in view of whose weakness religious unity had more strength. The army of Louis and that of his sons met in the plain of Rothfeld, near Colmar in Alsace (833). His soldiers abandoned him without a blow, and this treason gave the spot the name of Lügenfeld, or Field of Lies. The conquerors insulted the age and rank of their father by exposing him to public humiliation.[b]

HUMILIATION OF LOUIS

[Sidenote: [833-834 A.D.]]

A penance imposed by the church was laid upon the emperor in Soissons, excluding him from the communion of believers, so that he could not retain the reins of government. Although nobody doubted his imperial dignity, yet the emperor was in a sad and melancholy frame of mind. It is narrated that he had been told that his youngest son Charles had been forced to become a monk, and that his consort had not only become a nun, but had already died far away. He was cut off from all society, and the story goes that he had already been persuaded to order the monks surrounding him to say masses for the departed.

Such a situation is doubly painful to the wielder of supreme power, who has often to perceive that the responsibility lies at his own door.

In such desperate isolation was the emperor Louis, when a message from the ecclesiastical synod at Soissons reached him, reminding him of all his transgressions and urging him not to imperil his very soul, seeing that he had forfeited the secular power by the judgment of God and the authority of the church.

Louis begged for time for consideration. When the day he had himself appointed arrived, all the great ecclesiastics of Compiègne proceeded to Soissons to remind him of those acts by which he had offended God, given umbrage to the church, and brought disaster on the people. The emperor listened without contradiction, and declared his readiness to submit to the judgment of the church. At his request Lothair attended with some of his chief adherents, in order to be present at the solemn penance. This painful ordeal took place at the beginning of October, 833, in the church of St. Médard at Soissons, in presence of Lothair and the highest court dignitaries, and of a crowd which filled the church. Louis made a general confession that he had not duly fulfilled the duties of his office and had thereby sinned against God; that he had also set the Christian church at nought, and thereby brought confusion to the people, and that in expiation of these crimes he was ready to submit to public and ecclesiastical penance in order now to receive absolution from those to whom power was given on earth to bind and to absolve.

The ecclesiastical lords were not quite satisfied with this declaration; they required of him an explicit confession of his misdeeds; they gave utterance to their apprehensions that the emperor would return to his former reprehensible conduct as he had done once before, three years ago.

Hereupon Louis in still stronger terms repeated that he had given offence to the church, and that he purposed to be a model penitent; whereat the ecclesiastical lords placed in his hands a list of his offences, the contents of which are readily seen in the three heads--sacrilege, perjury, and murder. It does not appear whether Louis acknowledged the truth of these accusations in detail. Had he done so, the history of his life would present the most repulsive spectacle, and be absolutely incomprehensible.

Whilst speaking, he held the record of his sins in his hands; he then returned it to the ecclesiastics, who laid it upon the altar. He himself divested himself of his weapons and arms and assumed the dress of a penitent. A dark, cheerless scene, symbolising the triumph of the ecclesiastical party over secular interests. How could a prince stand up against a court of justice such as this?

In order to take complete possession of the empire, Lothair repaired to Aachen, where an attempt was again made to induce Louis to enter a monastery. His answer was decisive; he declared it impossible for him to take the vow so long as he was not free. His disposition is well known; he was docile and yielding, but he doggedly clung to the quintessence of his rights; he possessed the faculty of finding valid excuses, in order to save himself from taking a final step. From the deepest abasement he once more rose triumphant.

LOUIS RETURNS TO POWER

[Sidenote: [834 A.D.]]

The vicissitudes of these times furnish a most extraordinary spectacle. The most vital issues at stake; the possession and the government of the empire; the rights of clergy and laity, and the future of the realm in both regards. But those persons principally and actively concerned, the father and his sons, do not display any fixed purpose; they move in opposite directions--the emperor Louis, resolute in the assertion of his rights in general, but at every moment ready to give way in minor details; Lothair, not unmindful of filial duty, but tempted by the unexpected success of his revolt to aspire to despotic power; Ludwig, surnamed the German, as on previous occasions, so also now, not without sympathy for his father, yet all the time scheming how best to maintain and increase the inheritance of which he had taken possession; Pepin, in whose favour the whole movement had been undertaken, not minded to await the course of events, or to renounce direct participation in the sovereign power: he continued to date his documents according to the years of his father’s reign, whilst his brother Ludwig was satisfied with mentioning his father in his documents as the augustus and imperator.

In situations such as these, events become more powerful than men; that is to say, general movements become more powerful than individual intentions. At first it became evident that the two younger brothers were not minded to submit to the elder’s dictation; they demanded from him better treatment for their father. Lothair intimated to his brothers that it was through them that their father had lost his authority; that he himself was not to be blamed for exercising the rights of seniority; and that his keeping his father, whose misfortunes deeply touched him, a prisoner, was a course of action justified by the judgment of the episcopate. All the formal reasons which were urged by him were not however able to dispel the impression that the father’s power had actually been usurped by the son. The whole civilised world became uneasy and disquieted at the sight; and when Pepin and Ludwig began warlike preparations, which could only be intended against Lothair, they were able to count upon the support of the magnates and the people. Not minded to be surprised in Aachen, Lothair collected his forces at Paris (the Roman _Lutetia Parisiorum_), a city which even at that time was the centre of all political and intellectual movements in the West Frankish Empire, and where the first revolt against Louis had been prepared and organised. But even while on his way thither Lothair perceived himself to be threatened by the opposition on the part of one or another magnate; and becoming aware that he would not be able to stand his ground in Paris against the hosts of enemies who were advancing upon him from all sides, and convinced that only in Burgundy would he find a secure citadel, he proceeded thither with his faithful adherents, leaving his father behind him in the monastery of St. Denis.

But meanwhile divergent opinions had spread abroad in Paris. As Louis scrupled to follow the invitation to resume the imperial sway, so long as he was under the ban of the church, it was an act of the highest significance that all the bishops who were present in the capital repaired to St. Denis to pronounce his absolution. They restored him his arms and the imperial insignia.

Absolved by the ecclesiastics, and supported by the sympathy of the nation, Louis again took possession of the imperial throne; he cordially welcomed his two younger sons who returned to him with their followers, and proceeded to Aachen, where Judith, who in spite of a safe-conduct had had a perilous journey from Italy, joined him. Her son Charles was also there. The emperor lived, as formerly, for the pleasures of the chase and his own private affairs, and all external matters were once more allowed to drift in the same old beaten track. But Lothair was still in the field. He had gained no little prestige from the fact that his relative, Hugo of Matfrid, who had been joined by Lantbert, count of Nantes, had stood his ground when attacked by an imperial force of greater numbers. As Nithard expresses it, they were forced, owing to their small numbers and the danger threatening them, to hold together and defend themselves with the utmost valour. Châlons-sur-Saône, held by Lothair’s bitterest enemies, was likewise attacked and taken after a short siege. How powerfully old animosities were aroused may be seen in the fact that Lothair caused the sister of Bernhard of Septimania, who lived in a convent there, to be seized and drowned in the Saône; he wreaked vengeance on the sister for the brother’s enmity.

This double victory once more aroused Lothair’s hopes of subduing the whole empire. But in view of the danger, the emperor gathered together all his forces to take the field against him. In Langres he once more received the offerings which it was customary to make to the emperor. His son Ludwig joined him with the whole trans-Rhenish army. Pepin also appeared with his array. A numerous and devoted force advanced against Lothair, who, on his side, did not hesitate to move forward against his father and two brothers. The armies met face to face at Calviacus, near Blois. A great and decisive battle appeared to be imminent. But the feeling of comradeship among the troops of both armies, who could not forget that they formed one cohesive force--the “_Heerbann_”--prevented the collision. The soldiers felt a natural repugnance to fight against each other. It was chiefly this feeling of comradeship that had caused the soldiery at Colmar to pass over from the side of the emperor to that of his sons. But in their hearts they had always felt a certain sense of shame at their conduct; they had forsaken their emperor to whom before all others they owed allegiance; they would not again take this burden of guilt upon their shoulders.

All Lothair’s attempts to persuade them to a second desertion signally failed. The consciousness that it was the “_Heerbann_” upon which the power of the empire depended, and that a battle could not fail to be disastrous to the common weal, was in reality the controlling factor which here, in a most dangerous crisis, led to a settlement. Lothair, who could not hope for victory without the help of the “_Heerbann_,” decided to accept the conditions offered, chief of which was that he should retire to Italy, and leave the remainder of the realm to his father, and interfere no longer. A meeting in the imperial camp was arranged, and Louis, sitting between his two younger sons, received Lothair’s allegiance.

This event was decisive; for in order to bind the two younger sons to himself, the father had to make them a secure settlement for their future; but at the same time they had to submit to an arrangement being made with the youngest son, which they had until then most vehemently opposed. One plan has been preserved to us, according to which a tripartite division of the non-Italian territories of the empire between Pepin, Charles, and Ludwig was projected, and in which the fact strikes us that closely following the arrangement made by Charlemagne, Ludwig was promised the Germanic territories, with however the saving clause that it should be in the emperor’s power either to increase or diminish their extent according to the measure of obedience paid him.

LAST YEARS OF LOUIS

[Sidenote: [834-837 A.D.]]

For the moment it was of paramount importance that the authority of the emperor, which had been sorely shaken by the attitude of the clergy, should be restored by a formal agreement with the latter. In a general diet of the empire held at Thionville, the act of excommunication was revoked in due form, and the decree pronounced that Louis should henceforth be faithfully and obediently recognised as emperor. All the ecclesiastics signed this declaration and afterwards proceeded to Metz, where Drogo, the natural brother of the emperor, was bishop, and where the emperor had spent the preceding Christmas, in order to proclaim the renewal of allegiance. Ebbo was also present; he likewise had signed the protocol and was one of the most conspicuous among those who promulgated it. This done, the whole company returned to Thionville and everything seemed to be arranged, when the emperor levelled an indictment against Ebbo himself and new difficulties of general importance arose. The emperor accused Ebbo of having wrested his arms from him by false accusations, of having thrust him out of the church, and deprived him of his realm. Ebbo hesitated to reply to these charges in the emperor’s presence, though not from deference or shame; he had to consider his hierarchical status; such a proceeding would run counter to the just claims of a bishop to be judged only by an ecclesiastical tribunal. Moreover, some of the other bishops advised him to avoid further controversy, since it could not fail to be prejudicial to the episcopate and afford occasion for calumny. With their assistance Ebbo drew up a conciliatory document, which he signed and handed to the assembly.

Thereupon the synod pronounced judgment: Ebbo was to cease to discharge the functions of a bishop. Ebbo’s adversaries considered his declaration as an authentic and valid form of resignation.

It is a striking fact that this declaration was acted upon and that no successor to Ebbo was appointed. It was considered sufficient to entrust the duties of the office to a presbyter. The resignation was not regarded as sufficiently valid to enable the synod to declare the see vacant. The emperor had negotiations with Pope Gregory IV on the point. Let us record the characteristic features of these events. Manifold claims, extending from the present to the future, were in conflict, and the territorial shape that the great empire should eventually adopt was involved. Everything was in a state of unrest; not only were property and authority constantly changing hands, but the highest principles of government were involved in questions as to whether the emperor could be deposed or not, and whether the clergy could maintain their autonomy under the emperor now restored to power, or whether they must again surrender it. The pope, closely as the matter affected him, hesitated to deliver an opinion on the point. He refused to identify himself with the excommunication, but from sympathy for the clergy would not endorse the sentence passed by the emperor upon one of his chief adversaries.

As the fundamental doctrine, according to which the clergy could not be cited before a secular tribunal, had initiated the proceedings against the emperor Louis, so it was kept in view at the restoration of the imperial power. The emperor had contrived to have that excommunication declared null and void. He was unable to punish the chief instigator by formal judgment of the court, but he managed to have him deprived of his office. As in the conflict with his sons, so also in his struggle with the bishops, he was able to regard himself as victor. Wala likewise yielded; he had energetically promoted Lothair’s submission.

[Sidenote: [837-840 A.D.]]

The emperor Louis was permitted to enjoy a few years of peace, during which he was the object of general respect. His chief care was to leave his youngest son an adequate competence. To this son was appointed in the year 837 a realm composed of north German and Roman elements extending from the Weser to the Loire, having Paris for its centre, so that we have four realms to take into account, namely, Germania, Italy, Aquitania, and the territory appointed for Charles, which must properly be regarded as Frankish. The death of Pepin, which took place in December, 838, was, therefore, an event of paramount importance. Neither the emperor nor his magnates were inclined to recognise his sons as his heirs. Lothair, who had not only been promised the reversion of the empire in his own person, but also the participation with Charles in the remaining provinces, was won over to this view. Aquitania was now apportioned to Charles, but with the prospect of a fresh division of the realm to the prejudice of the German Ludwig, whom the emperor wished again to deprive of the trans-Rhenish provinces he had hitherto possessed. The result was a violent dispute between them tending towards a bloody issue.

At this moment, when everything appeared to be culminating in a fresh crisis, Louis the Pious (or Débonnaire) died, on the 20th of June, 840. A striking example of contrast between a great father and a less gifted, though by no means an incapable, son.

Louis had won his spurs as a sort of viceroy to Charles, and certain merits were his, particularly his conduct with regard to the mark of Spain, though he always acted in dependence upon the higher controlling authority. But the task of independently wielding the supreme power after his father’s death was beyond his powers. He lacked the living imagination which alone could weld together divergent elements, and thus maintain the supreme power and secure the existence of the empire for the future. At first he followed the impulses he received from Charlemagne’s old advisers, but afterwards was guided by the contrary influences of the second family, with which he had surrounded himself.

So he found himself entangled in the machinations of the factions which were arising around him at the very outset of the conflict. He came into open feud with his nearest relatives, of whom some followed one direction and the others another. It is not probable that he failed through excessive good nature; we have seen how he recoiled from the pressure of hostile elements, calmly bore everything and yielded; but he never yielded in the main point, but awaited the moment when he could reassert his rights. Moreover, he never ceased thinking how to mete out punishment to his enemies; he identified the empire with his own person.

But less important than the secular was the ecclesiastical complication in which he became entangled. By not keeping the arrogance of the secular magnates within proper limits, he aroused the pretensions of the ecclesiastical hierarchy which, under his rule, reached their full development. They were aimed not only at the existence but at the very idea of empire. And perhaps one might be allowed to say everything happened just as it was bound to happen. The elements that were striving for independence were in existence. Louis was not the man to repel and curb them to their old obedience. In attempting to do so he found that he was the weaker, and he had, consequently, to experience the tortures that disputed authority has to endure in times of faction. He was not able to harmonise the tenure of supreme power with the claims of the right of succession.

The epoch is characterised by the complication of the disputes for succession and an attempt to raise the ecclesiastical power to a position of preponderating prestige in the empire. It is Louis’ merit, that neither in one case nor the other did he permit his authority to succumb. He never allowed his jurisdiction over the clergy to be wrested from him, and relying upon the good will of his people always managed to maintain his tenure of the imperium. At his death he bequeathed the insignia of the realm to his eldest son.[c]

QUARRELS OF HIS SUCCESSORS

[Sidenote: [840 A.D.]]

It was evident already during the lifetime of Louis the Pious that his sons lived in mutual hatred and jealousy, and could not agree together in harmony. From the first, the sons of the first marriage and their half-brother were on a footing of envy and enmity, dissension also reigned amongst the former because their aims and pursuits mutually clashed. Ludwig, king of Bavaria, afterwards called the German, was both more just and more benevolent in disposition; he had besides the wisest intentions when the empire of Charles I was broken up, for he wished to see the division made on a basis of national principle. But the eldest brother, Lothair, was false and revengeful; and as he was at the same time filled with an inexhaustible egotism, he was bent on excluding his brothers as well as his nephews, by treachery, from all share in the empire, or at any rate on overreaching them to the best of his ability.

Under such circumstances, the most violent friction between the brothers was unavoidable. And this really came to pass immediately after the death of the first Louis. In order to accomplish his ignoble designs, the eldest brother Lothair endeavoured first of all to sow the seeds of discord, in order to overwhelm first one brother by the help of the other, and afterwards his ally. Intent on these designs, he set off across the Alps as soon as he received the news of the death of his father. Then he sent messengers through all the countries of the Frankish Empire to announce that he had succeeded his father as emperor, and demanding of all his vassals homage and fealty. What rights the emperor held in opposition to the kings no one knew, and Lothair’s command that they should swear allegiance to him in the former capacity was the best means of puzzling the vassals and of gaining them over afterwards to his side. The mighty knew as little of justice in those days as in many subsequent periods; the might of the strongest was their law, and the vassals had been accustomed, more especially during the civil wars of Louis I’s time, to go over first to one party and then to the other, in utter contempt of their oath of fealty, according to the favours or frowns of fortune. Lothair had undertaken his progress across the Alps at the head of a considerable army, and as he, on his arrival in Gaul, was thought to be the stronger, on account of the weakening of his younger brother Charles through war with his nephew, many of the vassals in France ranged themselves on the side of the emperor. Promises were not wanting, and soon he stood at the head of a powerful faction.

His most dangerous rival was Ludwig the German; and in order first to annihilate him, Lothair endeavoured to persuade his half-brother Charles to become his ally. To this end, he promised the latter to respect the partition which his father had made during his lifetime. Believing that he had thus won his brother over, he set forth from Worms at the head of his army across the Rhine and drew near to Frankfort-on-Main. Ludwig had fortified himself beforehand against his brother, and had tried more especially to unite all Germans in opposition to Lothair. But great confusion prevailed in Germany in both the domains of world-policy and of politics in which the nation was interested. The Germans regarded the Frankish kings with a certain amount of indifference; and thus, more especially with regard to the north Germans, it concerned Ludwig quite as much as his brother to organise a serious resistance among the true Germans. They could not see why they should side with this brother or with that, as the quarrel seemed to be only a matter of private advantage. Therefore when Lothair had crossed the Rhine, Ludwig invested Frankfort, and was resolved to oppose the advance of his brother; yet the lukewarm attitude of the people made him anxious, and he was glad to accept the overtures which Lothair made. Both were irresolute, and therefore it was easily agreed to defer the decision. Lothair sought to gain time in order to entangle his half-brother Charles still more deeply, and Ludwig wished for a cessation of hostilities in order to work up public spirit in Germany to take a warmer interest in his cause. The emperor was actually successful in coming to an agreement with Charles; and when he felt the ground safe on that side, he resolved to make a more serious attack on Ludwig. Early in the year 841 he marched with a strong army to cross the Rhine for the second time, after having by various promises made a bid for the favour of the Germans. Ludwig’s efforts in the same direction for the reasons given had not met with particular success; the superiority in arms was on Lothair’s side, and Ludwig was therefore forced to retreat before him.

CHARLES THE BALD AND LUDWIG THE GERMAN UNITE

[Sidenote: [840-841 A.D.]]

This turn in the fortunes of war was very dangerous to Germany’s interests; for a decisive victory for Lothair would only have prolonged the unnatural conditions of a Frankish universal empire and would have postponed still further, amid the greatest complications, the separation of the national states. Fortunately, however, Louis’ youngest son, Charles surnamed the Bald, brought about a favourable change in the situation, for his distrust of his eldest brother was awakened betimes and caused him to take the offensive against him. Charles was able to win over the sympathies of many vassals in Aquitania, and supported by them he seized Paris. This _coup_ compelled Lothair to return to France, and thus to give Ludwig a free hand again. At the same time both Charles the Bald and Ludwig the German obtained a keener and clearer insight into their true interests. They both perceived that the one might found a French and the other a German empire without clashing with each other, and that their common foe was their eldest brother. The latter was furthermore plotting, under the cloak of the imperial dignity, to maintain the empire of Charles I in its entirety, and to revive that unfortunate combination of the most heterogeneous nations. Ludwig thereupon proposed to his half-brother to enter into an alliance with him, which the latter gladly accepted. Ludwig then resolved to cross the Rhine and to join forces with Charles, in order to force Lothair to a partition of the empire in accordance with the principle of homogeneous nationalities.

The junction was duly effected in 841, and the two brothers emphatically gave the emperor to understand that he must either consent to fulfil their just demands with regard to the above-mentioned partition, or else prepare to decide the matter by the force of arms. In the meanwhile, however, Lothair had succeeded in winning over to his side his nephew, Pepin of Aquitania, whom Charles the Bald had unjustly tried to dispossess. In order to gain time to effect a junction with Pepin’s army, he opened negotiations with Charles and Ludwig, which resulted in the conclusion of an armistice. The opposing armies were already drawn up close at hand; for Lothair had marched towards Auxerre, where Charles and Ludwig were encamped, to meet his nephew Pepin. During the armistice the junction of the fighting forces of Lothair and Pepin was effected, whereupon the former immediately broke off the negotiations and accepted the battle which the brothers proffered as an ordeal.

The decisive battle was fought at Fontenailles on June 25, 841. On the right wing of the allied army of Charles and Ludwig stood the Germans, and opposing them the emperor Lothair. It was there that hostilities commenced; the fight was obstinate, but the troops of Lothair were decidedly beaten by the Germans. The nephew Pepin held his position better on the right wing, but after the defeat of Lothair the Germans pressed Pepin hard, and he also was forced to yield. Charles the Bald and Ludwig the German had therefore won a complete victory. This was a most fortunate occurrence for the people, but it would have been still more favourable had they known how to make use of their victory. Here, however, they failed; for Charles and Ludwig, instead of pursuing the remnants of the defeated army and by energetic measures extorting a lasting peace, followed the advice of the clergy and commanded that the next three days should be devoted to fasting and prayer, in order to obtain counsel from heaven as to the next move to be made.

Lothair escaped to Aachen and Pepin to Aquitania. This necessitated the division of the victorious forces, for Ludwig withdrew to the right bank of the Rhine to protect Germany against Lothair, and Charles to Aquitania to uphold it against Pepin. As soon as he arrived at Aachen, Lothair resolved to adopt other means to carry through his plans.

The Saxons had made no attempt during the reign of Louis the Pious to detach themselves from the empire, and to re-establish their original constitution. The reason for this is probably to be sought in the lenient measures adopted against them by Louis I, for otherwise his weak government would seem to us to have afforded the most favourable opportunity of throwing off the Frankish domination. But the bitterness which had prevailed among the north Germans on account of the mighty oppression of Charles I had by no means vanished, but was on the contrary still tolerably widespread. The cunning Lothair made use of this circumstance to gain the Saxons over to his party. Under the condition that they should help him against his brother Ludwig, he promised to restore to them their ancient constitution. The nobles in Saxony were divided into two factions, adhering either to Lothair’s or Ludwig the German’s cause. Then Lothair turned to the freemen and villeins, who in proportion to the nobility naturally formed the majority; they listened to his suggestions. Freedom, in the sense in which it is generally used by modern historians, could not be granted by re-establishing the ancient constitution of Saxony, for in olden times there was no freedom among the Germans. But anger at the tithes with which Charles I had more especially burdened the Saxon villeins, the oppression of the officials appointed by the Frankish king, hatred of Christianity which was regarded as the cause of both, and the abuse of their constitutional rights finally induced the Saxon freemen and villeins to accept the perfidious proposals of Lothair. Had the rebellion now being planned been successful, the separation of north from south Germany would have been suddenly effected, and the establishment of the unity of the German Empire thereby long deferred. The alliance of the Saxons with Lothair was therefore in the highest degree injurious to patriotic aims. In order further to strengthen his might, the emperor endeavoured to win over the Normans also, and ignobly promised to allow them to plunder various countries if they would come to his assistance.

[Sidenote: [841-842 A.D.]]

Trusting in all these allies Lothair now determined to attack his brother Ludwig, and gathered together an army near Worms. Charles the Bald shrewdly recognised the danger of the situation, and advanced with his forces to the Rhine to support Ludwig. Lothair was thereby constrained to alter his tactics, and to force Charles to retreat before leading his army to oppose Ludwig. He therefore marched into the interior of Gaul. Charles thereupon retreated upon Paris where he entrenched. Lothair determined nevertheless to attack him, but he failed to cross the Seine owing to the rise of the river. After a renewal of peace negotiations, which were once more fruitless, between the two brothers, Lothair marched to meet his nephew Pepin in order again to join forces with him. This he succeeded in doing farther up the Seine at Sens. Charles the Bald proceeded hastily in the meanwhile to join Ludwig the German near the Rhine, which Ludwig had already reached. The two armies effected their junction at Strasburg in February, 842. From this time the brothers firmly resolved to put an end to all hesitation and to the aimless wandering hither and thither, and to bring the matter to a head. They mutually swore an oath of loyalty and indissolubility in the presence of their armies. Ludwig then addressed the assembled warriors, recounting the wrongs they had endured at the hands of Lothair and asserting his fixed determination to conclude an honourable alliance with Charles, absolving his men from their allegiance to him should he break his oath. At that time the national separation of the French and the Germans was already very marked; for Ludwig made his speech in German, repeating it in the Romance tongue in order that Charles’ warriors also should understand it. Hereupon the two kings and their armies swore a solemn oath of mutual loyalty and support.

LOTHAIR BROUGHT TO TERMS (842 A.D.)

[Sidenote: [842 A.D.]]

The camp was then broken up in order to bring on the crisis at once. Lothair had now returned from Gaul to Aachen, whither his adversaries marched with their armies. He endeavoured to entrench on the banks of the Moselle and to oppose the passage of the enemy, but his dispositions for the defence were miserably weak. The forces of Ludwig and Charles crossed the river without the slightest difficulty, and Lothair so lost his head as to take to flight hastily, never halting until he reached Lyons.

The victorious brothers proceeded to Aachen, which was still considered as the seat of the whole empire. There they called upon the bishops to decide between them, and Lothair; which they were only too ready to do, declaring Lothair had grievously offended against both church and state, and had besides shown himself to be quite incapable of governing the empire, which should therefore pass over to Ludwig and Charles. As the might of the strongest was thus confirmed by moral authority, Lothair began to be seized at last with anxiety and seriously tried to come to an agreement with his brothers. He therefore made proposals to them with regard to the partition of the empire, which seemed reasonable and led to further negotiations. It was impossible, however, owing to Lothair’s new subterfuges, to effect a reconciliation at once; but in June, 842, the three brothers held a meeting on the island of Ansilla on the Saône, where they mutually took a solemn oath of peace, and arranged to meet again on October 1st of the same year in Metz, when the division of the empire should irrevocably be made by a tribunal of 120 arbitrators, of which each of the brothers was to select forty from his most distinguished men. This agreement is known as the Treaty of Ansilla, and it was the forerunner of the Treaty of Verdun.

The three brothers were all anxious to make the utmost use of the interval which must elapse before the virtual conclusion of peace, in consolidating their own power. Lothair, as revengeful and cruel as he was craven, vented his rage, on his return to Aachen, on those of his vassals who according to him were responsible for the disaster on the Moselle, by confiscating many fiefs. Charles, on the other hand, tried to ruin his nephew Pepin in Aquitania, although the latter, supposing any right of inheritance over states to have existed, would have possessed a better right than the uncle. The third brother resolved to put down the rising in Saxony which threatened to become a danger to Germany. There is, it is true, no historical evidence that the Saxon freemen and villeins had lent any actual assistance to Lothair, the instigator of the insurrection; but on the other hand, they proceeded all the more vigorously at home to reorganise their established religion and constitution. Consequently they expelled not only the Christian priests but also many nobles; more particularly those who had been aware of the hopelessness of the enterprise and who would not join the movement. It is possible that in the course of events a freer tendency had been evolved, and that the improvement of the position of the middle classes, and more especially of the villeins or peasants, was the object of their endeavours. For many centuries this numerous class, so oppressed by the Germans, had borne their misery without any attempt to escape it; and yet it was inevitable that by degrees even those of them who were without rights should awake to a consciousness of their unworthy position, and should feel a wish to improve it.

OPPRESSION OF THE SAXON FREEMEN

[Sidenote: [842-843 A.D.]]

During the reign of Louis the Pious there had already been a dangerous rising of serfs in Flanders and in the northern maritime countries, which according to the custom of lords paramount was not put down by justice--that is, by an acknowledgment of the human rights possessed by the miserable oppressed, called in law parlance beasts, and by a lenient and reasonable improvement of their lot--but by the sword.

As a prototype of Napoleon, who held the municipalities responsible for the individual actions which displeased him, Ludwig or rather his council treated the lords of the serfs in the same way in order to guard against similar uprisings in the future. The owner of the villein who took part in a conspiracy was threatened with the king’s ban (60 _solidi_).

These facts must be taken as a sign of the times. They show that a longing for freedom was beginning to stir in the bosom of the villein who was without civil rights, and the movement in Saxony might have taken this direction too, as already observed; but this was no struggle for the restoration of an alleged former freedom, as the newer historians would have it, but the opposite--an attempt to overthrow the tyranny of the olden times. Such a condition of things would have stood in direct opposition to the re-establishment of the old Saxon constitution, which certainly was included in the plot, because that government upheld serfdom; yet the Saxons included therein the ancestral religion, their independence from the Franks, and exemption from tithes, and therefore in that sense the struggle for freedom was compatible with the re-establishment of the ancient constitution. It was customary in the peasant rebellions in Germany to adopt a particular name, such as the _bundschuh_, “lace-shoe.” The Saxon freemen and villeins called their rising the _stellinga_. When a rebellion has for its goal the acquisition of liberty, it is only natural that a king should tremble; but whether this was really the case here or whether it was the natural dislike of all Germans for the Carlovingian dynasty, that had oppressed not only the Saxons and Frisians but also the Alamanni and the Bavarians, it is certain that Ludwig feared the spread of the Saxon rising over Swabia and Bavaria, and strained every nerve to subdue it. In order to accomplish this he made use of such cruel means that his name, like that of his grandfather Charles, deserves to be branded by history.

Even had the Saxons endangered the national aims of Germany by their enterprise, and had Ludwig therefore had just claims to be held blameless on that account for trying to put down the movement, yet it must never be forgotten that the Saxons had been provoked by the most abominable regulations, tithes, and other burdens unknown until that day, and that they had been most cruelly wounded in all that they considered holy. As, in addition, the Saxon freemen and villeins had been instigated to rebel by a monarch who called himself emperor, and who according to existing state treaties was to exercise lordship over his brothers, justice imperiously demanded that the people who had been thus misled should be treated with leniency; and that their resentment should be by degrees allayed by relieving the burdens imposed upon them and by just treatment. Instead of proceeding thus humanely, Ludwig made use of his power like a cowardly despot, in order to inflict indescribable tortures on the wretched Saxons. One hundred and forty men were beheaded, fourteen hanged on the gallows, and others, according to ancient custom of the Romans, were mutilated to render them incapable of fighting again. The inhumanity was carried to such a pitch, so the chroniclers affirm, that the number of mutilated Saxons was so great they could not be counted. In this way was quiet restored in Saxony, but it was the quiet of the grave and of silent execration which followed the callous destroyer, a true grandson of the “great” Charles.

THE TREATY OF VERDUN (843 A.D.)

[Sidenote: [843 A.D.]]

In the meanwhile the time had come when, according to the Treaty of Ansilla, the court of arbitration was to decide on the partition of the empire. Charles and Ludwig therefore set forth at the beginning of October to meet Lothair at Metz. Neither, however, trusted the other, wherefore Ludwig and Charles kept an army in readiness near Worms, while Lothair brought his to within eight hours of Metz. This caused a renewed tension between the brothers; at last it was decided that the arbitrators of both factions, for whose safety Ludwig and Charles feared on account of the proximity of the hostile army, should meet in Coblenz. The preliminaries for the partition were at once begun there; but it soon became evident that the arbitrators hardly knew the geographical position of the countries they had to divide, much less their relative sizes and the characteristics of their internal conditions. There arose, therefore, on both sides recriminations and complaints, then anger, fury, and a fresh rupture. The discord assumed such proportions that it was feared the negotiations would be broken off and war become inevitable. The condition of the people was so wretched that public opinion, that of the nobles at least, began gradually emphatically to demand patching up of these unholy quarrels. Gaul had been devastated by military campaigns, and as a natural consequence was overrun with bands of robbers. To add to the misery, scarcity of crops had caused a food famine, and finally news came that the _stellinga_ in Saxony, rendered desperate by Ludwig’s cruelty, had taken up arms again after his departure. Taking all these circumstances into consideration, the most distinguished men of all factions declared resolutely and by common consent to the kings that the conclusion of a definite lasting peace was of the most urgent necessity, and that if the negotiations were again broken off they would not participate in any new war.

At the same time it was proposed, in order to overcome all obstacles to the partition, that the authorised representatives or arbitrators should immediately travel over the length and breadth of the empire, in order to acquire the necessary knowledge for the division of the same; and also that an armistice of suitable duration should be concluded to facilitate the preparations for the real conclusion of peace. The force of circumstances obliged the kings to yield; the proposed commission was undertaken in common, the armistice was extended till July, 843, and another meeting for the conclusion of peace was fixed for that year.

While the arbitrators were journeying through the countries that were to be divided, Ludwig returned once again to Saxony, in order to subdue the renewed rising. The _stellinga_ made a brave resistance, but the superior might of the king was bound to conquer, and callous cruelty again disgraced the weapons of the blood-thirsty despot.

In July 843 representatives of the three brothers met at last at Verdun, in order to negotiate for peace. And it was there that the final treaty was really signed in August of the same year. Its chief provisions were: (1) Charles the Bald received Gaul and a part of Germany, which lies between the mouth of the Schelde and its source on the left bank, and thence to the Maas. The boundary of his kingdom stretched thence to the Saône, and along the Rhone to its embouchure in the Mediterranean. (2) Ludwig received all the German countries on the right bank of the Rhine and on the left Speier, Worms, and Mainz, with the districts appertaining thereto. (3) Lothair remained in possession of the title of emperor and of all lands outside Italy which lie between the realms of Charles the Bald and Ludwig. That was the essence of the famous Treaty of Verdun, which was the foundation of the final establishment of the pure German nation and of the unity of the empire.

As to the value of the treaty, it is at once evident that it was far from adequate from the point of view of the interest of the people, and was only an expedient of necessity, which the conflicting private interests of the kings had called into existence. The elimination of all independent nations, and the organised union of all the houses of each race into one state was the greatest need of that period; but by the Treaty of Verdun, Germany remained divided up, for the greatest parts of the Rhine district and Belgium were severed from it.

In the same way the boundary question in the interior of the country between Germans and the Slavs remained unsettled, and the demarcation of the nation was therefore once more obliterated. The principal cause of this regrettable evil was the unfortunate idea of the imperial dignity which was to encompass the whole of Christendom. Lothair showed himself so violently possessed by the idea of this dignity that he would not under any circumstances give it up. Aachen was the capital of the emperor, and Lothair insisted so obstinately on retaining possession of the city that, willingly or unwillingly, a strip of land from the German realm had to be conceded to him. Under those circumstances there was no alternative between a new war and the dismemberment of Germany. Under the prevailing conditions the former was neither feasible nor desirable; moreover at that time national spirit showed itself in many of the greatest men to be practically non-existent, and consequently to them the organic unity of the nations was of little account--if they recognised it at all. It was therefore not considered that the dismemberment of Germany was any very great sacrifice to offer on the altar of peace.

And yet, however unsatisfactory the treaty of Verdun was for German interests, it must be conceded that in view of the existing situation even the partial union of the Germans into a separate empire of their own was an incalculable advantage. The union of north and south Germany, enforced by Charles I, could bear no fruits because the independent national development was stunted by the enforced alliance of the Germans with Romans, Gauls, and Italians. By the Treaty of Verdun the Germans, on the other hand, were separated from the Guelfs, and even if important purely Germanic stock was cut off, yet the majority still remained combined in one independent state free to develop according to the hereditary spirit.

Finally the empire given to Lothair by the dismemberment of Germany was so contrary to all common sense in its situation and boundaries, that a continuation of this singular arrangement was beyond the range of probability. Lothair’s possessions outside Italy were separated from his principal realm by the Alps; there was absolutely nothing in common between the Italians and the Germans, and at the same time Lothair’s portion on this side of the Alps only consisted of an extremely narrow strip towards the sea, which nowhere offered a suitable protection. Part of this strip of land was inhabited by romanised Germans or Guelfs, and the remaining and greater part by pure Teutons; consequently it was only to be expected that the Guelf portion would struggle to become united to France and the Teutonic to the mother country. This is what actually came to pass later; and therefore in the Treaty of Verdun were to be found the elements for the establishment of a national Teutonic empire and unity. We therefore now look upon that treaty as the foundation of both.[e]

Germany dates her national existence from the Treaty of Verdun. Eastern or Teutonic was then forever separated from Western or Latin France, which in later times gained exclusive possession of the name, the heart of the Frankish dominions being known as Franconia. The oaths taken respectively by the armies of Ludwig and Charles show that the two languages were already distinct. The Frankish conquerors of Gaul were largely latinised by intercourse with the former subjects of the cæsars; and while the soldiers of Ludwig swore allegiance in old German, the oath of Charles’ army bore an almost equal resemblance to Latin, Provençal, and modern French. The Teutonic and Roman elements in European society and speech were from that moment separate.[f]

FOOTNOTES

[139] [Though the Germans protested violently against gallicising their Karl der Grosse and Ludwig der Fromme into Charlemagne and Louis de Débonnaire, we prefer to keep the more familiar forms.]