The Boys' Book of Famous Rulers

by Lydia Hoyt Farmer

Pepin now aided the Pope by marching into Italy and fighting the Lombards; and having conquered them, he took their lands and gave them to the Pope, which property afterwards descended from one pope to another, so that the popes at last became masters of quite a kingdom in Italy. Pepin also besieged a town in Southern Gaul, belonging to the Arabs, and after seven years captured it, and drove the Arabs over the Pyrenees, into Spain. He reigned for sixteen years, and dying left his kingdom to his two sons Karl and Karloman, who divided it between them; but Karloman lived but three years, when Karl became the king of France.

While his Austrasian subjects, who spoke German, called him Karl, the Neustrians, whose language was a mingling of the Latin and the German, which has since become the French language, called him Charles; and after he became so famous, the Latin word magnus, meaning great, was added, and Charles-Magnus thus became the Charlemagne of history.

Very little can be learned regarding the early life of Charlemagne. One of the old writers, named Eginhard, who afterwards became the secretary of Charlemagne, records that neither he himself, nor any one then living, knew anything about the birth of this prince, nor about his infancy, nor even youth. His father, King Pepin, had his two sons associated with himself, when he received the title of king from the Bishop of Rome; but neither of them received any separate government during their father’s life. They were taught, with the other young nobles, by Peter of Pisa, whom Pepin retained at his court for this purpose. It is supposed that King Pepin took the young princes with him in his Italian expeditions, and that Charlemagne accompanied his father in the Aquitanian war. When King Pepin died, his eldest son was twenty-six years and a half old, while the younger was barely nineteen. Both were already married to wives of the Frank race. Charles, or Charlemagne, to Himiltrude, and Carloman to Gerberge.

The first battle in which Charlemagne engaged was soon after his father’s death, with the Aquitanians, who were the people living in the south-west part of France. The brother-kings raised troops to meet them, but Carloman through jealousy withdrew his forces, leaving Charlemagne to carry on the war alone. He was victorious, and the Aquitanians submitted. The queen-mother Bertrada now used her influence to secure a permanent alliance between the Lombards and the Franks, and persuaded Charlemagne to divorce his wife and marry Desiderata, the daughter of Didier the Lombard king. This Charlemagne consented to do, even against the advice of the Pope, and he suffered for his folly, or wickedness; for so it was, even though his mother did sanction it, for he was so unhappy with Desiderata, that in about a year he put her away and married Hildegarde. In those days kings married and divorced their wives as often as they pleased, and Charlemagne, with all his greatness and his aid to Christianity, was in this particular very culpable, and his domestic life was not at all in keeping with the majesty, and goodness, and uprightness of his public life. After the death of Hildegarde, he married two other wives. One Fastrada, an Austrasian, was a very wicked woman, and caused him much trouble. The last one, whom he loved the most, was named Luitgarda. She was kind and gentle, and her influence over Charlemagne was very beneficial after the wicked Fastrada had led him into so much trouble. The French have an old legend, which relates that the evil influence which Fastrada exercised over the strong mind of the great king, leading him to acts of injustice and tyranny, which alienated the affections of his nobles, was due to the magic spell of a ring which she wore. On her death, the ring came into possession of a bishop, for whom Charlemagne immediately showed such admiration, that the bishop found it unpleasant, and cast the ring into a neighboring lake. Here it also exercised its magic charm, and the king would sit for hours gazing into the waters of the lake, as though spell-bound. But this legend cannot disguise the weak side of Charlemagne’s character, and we can only turn from it and fix our attention upon his great career.

He was one of the wisest and most powerful of kings. His life was one of constant war. He fought the Saxons for thirty-three years, but at last he conquered Witikind, the great Saxon leader, in 785, and persuaded him to be baptized. Charlemagne made him Duke of Saxony, and he lived in good faith to the new vows he had taken. Notwithstanding this victory over the Saxons, Charlemagne foresaw the evils which should come upon Europe through the formidable Northmen. The monk of St. Gall relates this incident: “Charlemagne arrived unexpectedly in a certain town of Narbonnese Gaul. Whilst he was at dinner, and was as yet unrecognized of any, some corsairs of the Northmen came to ply their piracies in the very port. When their vessels were descried, they were supposed to be Jewish traders according to some, African according to others, and British in the opinion of others; but the gifted monarch perceiving by the build and lightness of the craft that they bare not merchandise, but foes, said to his own folk, ‘These vessels be not laden with merchandise, but manned with cruel foes.’ At these words, all the Franks, in rivalry one with another, ran to their ships, but uselessly, for the Northmen, indeed, hearing that yonder was he whom it was still their wont to call Charles the Hammer, feared lest all their fleet should be taken or destroyed in the port, and they avoided by a flight of inconceivable rapidity not only the blows, but even the eyes of those who were pursuing them.

“Pious Charles, however, a prey to well-grounded fear, rose up from table, stationed himself at a window looking eastward, and there remained a long while, and his eyes were filled with tears. As none durst question him, this warlike prince explained to the grandees who were about his person the cause of his movement and of his tears. ‘Know ye, my lieges, wherefore I weep so bitterly? Of a surety I fear not lest these fellows should succeed in injuring me by their miserable piracies; but it grieveth me deeply that whilst I live, they should have been nigh to touching at this shore, and I am a prey to violent sorrow when I foresee what evils they will heap upon my descendants and their people.’”

But during all the years of the Saxon wars, Charlemagne had been carrying on various campaigns elsewhere. The Lombards were again at war with the Popes, and the king of Lombards, Didier, whose daughter Charlemagne had married and so soon divorced, had now become his bitter foe. The new Pope, Adrian I., sought the aid of Charlemagne in this war with the Lombards, and he prepared for this Italian expedition. He raised two armies,—one to cross the Valais and descend upon Lombardy by Mount St. Bernard, and the other, to be led by Charlemagne, was to go by the way of Mount Cenis. Didier had with him a famous Dane, named Ogier, who had quarrelled with Charlemagne and taken refuge in Lombardy. One of the monks of that time thus describes Charlemagne’s arrival before Pavia, where Didier and the Dane Ogier had shut themselves up, as it was the strongest place in Lombardy.

“When Didier and Ogger (for so the monk calls him) heard that the dread monarch was coming, they ascended a tower of vast height, whence they could watch his arrival from afar off and from every quarter. They saw, first of all, engines of wars, such as must have been necessary for the armies of Darius or Julius Cæsar. ‘Is not Charles,’ asked Didier of Ogger, ‘with this great army?’ But the other answered, ‘No.’ The Lombard, seeing afterwards an immense body of soldiery gathered from all quarters of the vast empire, said to Ogger, ‘Certes, Charles advanceth in triumph in the midst of this throng.’ ‘No, not yet; he will not appear so soon,’ was the answer. ‘What should we do, then,’ rejoined Didier, who began to be perturbed, ‘should he come accompanied by a larger band of warriors?’ ‘You will see what he is when he comes,’ replied Ogger; ‘but as to what will become of us I know nothing.’ As they were thus parleying appeared the body of guards that knew no repose, and at this sight the Lombard, overcome with dread, cried, ‘This time ’tis surely Charles.’ ‘No,’ answered Ogger, ‘not yet.’ In their wake came the bishops, the abbots, the ordinaries of the chapels royal, and the counts; and then Didier, no longer able to bear the light of day or to face death, cried out with groans, ‘Let us descend and hide ourselves in the bowels of the earth, far from the face and the fury of so terrible a foe.’ Trembling the while, Ogger, who knew by experience what were the power and might of Charles, and who had learned the lesson by long usage in better days, then said, ‘When ye shall behold the crops shaking for fear in the fields, and the gloomy Po and the Ticino overflowing the walls of the city with their waves blackened with steel (iron), then may ye think that Charles is coming.’ He had not ended these words when there began to be seen in the west, as it were, a black cloud, raised by the north-west wind or by Boreas, which turned the brightest day into awful shadows. But as the emperor drew nearer and nearer, the gleam of arms caused to shine on the people shut up within the city a day more gloomy than any kind of night. And then appeared Charles himself, that man of steel, with his head encased in a helmet of steel, his hands garnished with gauntlets of steel, his heart of steel and his shoulders of marble protected by a cuirass of steel, and his left hand armed with a lance of steel which he held aloft in the air, for as to his right hand, he kept that continually on the hilt of his invincible sword. The outside of his thighs, which the rest for their greater ease in mounting a horseback were wont to leave unshackled even by straps, he wore encircled by plates of steel. What shall I say concerning his boots? All the army were wont to have them invariably of steel; on his buckler there was nought to be seen but steel; his horse was of the color and the strength of steel. All those who went before the monarch, all those who marched at his side, all those who followed after, even the whole mass of the army, had armor of the like sort, so far as the means of each permitted. The fields and the highways were covered with steel; the points of steel reflected the rays of the sun; and this steel, so hard, was borne by a people with hearts still harder. The flash of steel spread terror throughout the streets of the city. ‘What steel! alack, what steel!’ Such were the bewildered cries the citizens raised. The firmness of manhood and of youth gave way at sight of the steel, and the steel paralyzed the wisdom of the gray beards. That which I, poor tale-teller, mumbling and toothless, have attempted to depict in a long description, Ogger perceived at one rapid glance, and said to Didier, ‘Here is what ye have so anxiously sought’; and whilst uttering these words he fell down almost lifeless.”

But notwithstanding all King Didier’s fear, he and the Lombards evinced such resistance, that Charlemagne was obliged to settle down before Pavia in a long siege. His camp without the city became a town, so that he sent for his wife, Queen Hildegarde, and her court, also his children and their attendants, and said to the chiefs of his army, “Let us begin by doing something memorable.” So men were at once set to work to build a basilica, and within a week it was completed, with its walls, roofs, and painted ceilings, which would seemingly have required a year to erect.

In this chapel, Charlemagne, and his family, court, and warriors, celebrated the festival of Christmas, 773. But just before Easter, 774, Charlemagne determined to leave his lieutenants to continue the siege, and attended by a numerous and brilliant retinue, he set off for Rome. On Holy Saturday, when Charlemagne was about three miles from Rome, the magistrates and citizens and pupils of the schools came forth to meet him, bearing palm-branches and singing hymns. At the gate of the city, Charlemagne dismounted before the cross, and entered Rome on foot, and having ascended the steps of the ancient basilica of St. Peter, he was received at the top by the Pope himself. Then a chant was sung by the people all around him: “Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord.”