Charlemagne was fond of visiting and occasionally teaching in his Court school. He took great interest in the progress of his scholars, praising the diligent and admonishing the indolent. The "Monk" informs us that on one occasion finding the compositions of the poorer boys praiseworthy, whilst those of the young nobles were unsatisfactory, the emperor rose up in anger and warned these latter youths that their high birth and fine manners should not screen them from punishment if they did not get rid of their laziness. Then, turning to the poor but meritorious youths, he highly commended them, and exhorted them to be always thus diligent, promising them rewards and preferment if they continued in their good course. Charlemagne indeed gained imperishable glory by his educational efforts, through which a foundation was laid for after ages. Full of the conviction that religion and learning were essential to happiness, he yearned to spread education amongst his people, and made it the chief object of his later years. All parents ought, he says, "to send their boys to school, and let them abide there till they are well informed," a principle only imperfectly understood and acted upon even in our own day. This ideal side of his complex activity lifts him far above the other rulers of the Middle Ages. To our mind there is but one who bears comparison with him for greatness of character and lofty aims—Alfred the Great, of Wessex. Clerical colleges, and secular schools attached to them, sprang up all over the country, and the knowledge of the Scriptures, hitherto confined to the clergy, was freely placed before the people.
The bishops were charged by the emperor to take care that the priests were "well qualified as religious teachers." Theobald enjoins his clergy to open schools and "teach the children with love, and to accept no fees but what the parents choose to give." Such was the emperor's educational zeal, that he ordains whipping and deprivation of food even for men and women if they do not know by heart the Confession of Faith and the Lord's Prayer, and are not able to repeat them in Latin to the priests. Yet he makes allowances for the dunces who are permitted to learn and repeat these exercises in their own illiterate language. He admonishes the monks to learn better grammar, and get rid of their uncouth modes of speech. He strongly reprimands a choirboy whose wrong notes grate on his delicate ear.
Amongst the bishops of Switzerland, Hatto of Basel, and Remedius of Chur-Rhætia, were Charlemagne's chief supporters and lawgivers in their own dioceses. The latter prelate was a great friend of Alcuin, and held a brilliant Court with many vassals. The power of these theocratic governors was very great. It may be mentioned, as an example of this, that Remedius decreed that persons guilty of sacrilege should be covered with hot tar and made to ride thus on a donkey through the villages. The emperor's protection to church and school foundations was exercised in many cases in Switzerland. According to tradition, Sion was enriched with landed property; and to St. Maurice was presented a fine onyx cup adorned with beautiful Greek relievi, still amongst the treasures of that church. Zurich attributes her oldest churches and schools to the emperor's bounty. To him she is said to owe her minster, bearing his name and statue; the Chorherrenstift, or College of Canons, and the Carolinum, a clerical school for prebends or canons, which developed in 1832 into the University and Gymnasium respectively, and finally the Wasserkirche, a chapel by the riverside, on the spot where the martyrs Felix and Regula once suffered.
GREAT MINSTER AND WASSERKIRCHE, ZURICH. (Appenzeller, Zurich.)
Zurich was indeed, according to tradition, a favourite residence of the great monarch, and his mansion is said to have been the Haus zum Loch (hole or cavern), standing on a steep incline near the minster. Connected with this is a charming legend which reflects the character for justice he had gained amongst the people. This story may also serve as an example, the only one our space will permit us to give, of the abundant store of legend collected around the memory of Charlemagne. There was a chapel on the riverside where he had placed a bell for people to ring if they wished to appeal to justice. One day as he was at dinner with his queen this bell began to ring. None of the servants could inform him what was the matter. The bell rang a second time, and then a third. On this the emperor rose from the table, saying, "I am sure there is some poor man you don't wish me to see." So saying, he walked down the hill to the chapel, where, hanging to the bell rope, he found a large snake. The reptile crept down, moved towards him, and wagged her tail to pay her respects. Then going on in front she led Charlemagne to a tuft of nettles, and his servants examining the spot found a large toad sitting on the eggs in the serpent's nest. At once, grasping the meaning of this appeal, he sat him down in his chair of justice and passed sentence that the toad should be killed and quartered. The next day at dinner time the snake appeared in the passage, frightening the attendants grievously. However, Charles quieted them, and said, "God is wonderful, and we cannot know the meaning of this." The snake entered the hall, climbed on the table, and, beckoning the emperor to remove the lid of his golden goblet, dropped into it a beautiful jewel. Then, descending from the table, she bowed to the royal couple, and disappeared. Charles held this to be a good omen, and resolved never to part with the jewel. The moral is obvious. Charlemagne was so just, and his reputation for equity so widespread, that even the lower animals appealed to him, and not in vain.
According to another version, the stone exerted attraction like a loadstone, for where it was dropped the emperor could not leave the place. But Archbishop Turpin had dropped it into the springs of Aachen, and hence Charlemagne no more quitted that royal residence.
It would be impossible in our space, even if it were interesting to the general reader, to enter into the discussions respecting Charlemagne's foundations in and visits to Zurich. Two things, however, come out clearly; first (thanks to the labours of the learned historian, Professor Georg von Wyss), that tradition is not entirely unworthy of trust, as there is documentary evidence still extant to prove that Charlemagne reformed the College (Chorherrenstift); second, that he kept up a close connection with the city, whether he actually resided there or not.
No doubt this exaltation of Charlemagne's merits is an expression of the attachment felt for his person, and of the admiration for his marvellous educational efforts. His grandson, Louis the German, founded the Abbey of our Lady, in 853, on the site of an old convent erected to the memory of the patron saints of Zurich. Louis erected this new abbey in order to give a more brilliant church preferment to his daughter, Hildgard, Lady Principal of a small convent at Wurzburg. This Princess Abbess received the sole right of jurisdiction, and the convent rose rapidly, and with it extended the city commonwealth. (We shall show in a later chapter how this female government checked the growth of political power in that city, and yet was the making of her.)