Tradition has ascribed to Charles the assassination of his brother Grimwald, with whom he was to have shared his paternal inheritance; and the absence of any other known motive, the avowed hostility of his father, who imprisoned him, as well as the significant silence of the historians—evidently trembling under the stern rule of the Mayor of the Palace—give considerable probability to this hypothesis. Although disinherited, the attachment of the people was such that he was, immediately after the death of Pepin, rescued from a dungeon and raised to the dukedom. Succeeding events justified the wisdom of this measure. The address of Charles allayed the civil dissensions of the Franks; his valor and military genius awed and restrained the restless barbarians of Germany. Although unquestionably the preserver of Christianity, he is more than suspected of having been an idolater, his title, Martel, having been traced by antiquaries to the hammer of Thor, the emblem of the war-god of Scandinavia. He had no reverence for the Church, no belief in its doctrines, no consideration for its possessions, no regard for its ministers. He seized reliquaries and sacred vessels destined for communion with God, and coined them into money to pay the expenses of his campaigns. He despoiled the clergy of their lands and partitioned them among his followers. The most eminent of his captains he invested with the offices of bishops, after expelling the rightful incumbents in order to the better retain control of their confiscated estates. This sacrilegious policy, while it exasperated the priesthood, endeared him to his soldiers who were the recipients of his bounty; but the wrath of the ecclesiastical order was not appeased even by his inestimable services to its cause. Anathematized by popes and councils, legends inspired by monkish credulity and hatred have solemnly asserted that his soul had been repeatedly seen by holy men surrounded by demons in the depths of hell.
Of the personal characteristics, habits, and domestic life of Charles Martel we know absolutely nothing. Equally silent is history as to the regulations of his capital, the constitution of his court, the rules of his military tactics, the principles of his government, the names of his councillors. The bitterness of ecclesiastical prejudice while it has cursed his memory has not been able to tarnish his renown. Historical justice has given him the full measure of credit due to his exploits, whose importance was not appreciated by his contemporaries, and has accorded him a high rank among the great military commanders of the world. Accustomed to arms from childhood, Charles had passed the greater portion of his life in camps. He had conquered Neustria, intimidated Burgundy, and had, in many successful expeditions against the formidable barbarians of the Rhine, left bloody evidences of his prowess as far as the banks of the Elbe and the Danube. He had laid claim to the suzerainty of Aquitaine in the name of the royal figure-head under whose authority he prosecuted his conquests; and Eudes had hitherto regarded his demonstrations with even greater fear and aversion than the periodical forays of the Saracens. Now, however, the crestfallen Duke of Aquitaine sought the presence of his ancient foe, did homage to him, and implored his aid. The practised eye and keen intellect of Charles discerned at once the serious nature of the impending danger, and with characteristic promptitude sought to avert it. His soldiers, living only in camps and always under arms, were ready to march at a moment’s notice. Soon a great army was assembled, and, amidst the deafening shouts of the soldiery, the general of the Franks, confident of the superiority of his followers in endurance and discipline, advanced to meet the enemy. The latter, discouraged by the bold front presented by the inhabitants of Poitiers, who had been nerved to desperation by the memorable example of Bordeaux, had, in the mean time, raised the siege, and were marching towards Tours, attracted by the fame of the vast wealth of the Church and Abbey of St. Martin. Upon an immense plain between the two cities the rival hosts confronted each other. This same region, the centre of France, still cherished the remembrance of a former contest in which, centuries before, the Goths and Burgundians under command of Ætius had avenged the wrongs of Europe upon the innumerable hordes of Attila. Of good augury and a harbinger of success was this former victory regarded by the stalwart warriors of the North, now summoned a second time to check the progress of the barbarian flood of the Orient. Widely different in race, in language, in personal appearance, in religion, in military evolutions and in arms, each secretly dreading the result of the inevitable conflict and each unwilling to retire, for seven days the two armies remained without engaging, but constantly drawn up in battle array. Finally, unable to longer restrain the impetuosity of the Arabs, Abd-al-Rahman gave orders for the attack. With loud cries the light squadrons of Moorish cavalry, followed pell-mell by the vast mob of foot soldiers, hurled themselves upon the solid, steel-clad files of the Franks. But the latter stood firm—like a “wall of ice,” in the quaint language of the ancient chronicler—the darts and arrows of the Saracens struck harmlessly upon helmet and cuirass, while the heavy swords and maces of the men-at-arms of Charles made frightful havoc among the half-naked bodies of their assailants. Night put an end to the battle, and the Franks, for the moment relieved from an ordeal which they had sustained with a courage worthy of their reputation, invoking the aid of their saints, yet not without misgivings for the morrow, slept upon their arms. At dawn the conflict was renewed with equal ardor and varying success until the afternoon, when a division of cavalry under the Duke of Aquitaine succeeded in turning the flank of the enemy, and began to pillage his camp. As the tidings of this misfortune spread through the ranks of the Moslems, large numbers deserted their standards and turned back to recover their booty, far more valuable in their estimation than even their own safety or the triumph of their cause. Great confusion resulted; the retreat became general; the Franks redoubled their efforts; and Abd-al-Rahman, endeavoring to rally his disheartened followers, fell pierced with a hundred wounds. That night, aided by the darkness, the Saracens silently withdrew, leaving their tents and heavy baggage behind. Charles, fearful of ambuscades, and having acquired great respect for the prowess of his adversaries, whose overwhelming numbers, enabling them to attack him in both front and rear, had seriously thinned his ranks, declined the pursuit, and with the spoils abandoned by the Saracens returned to his capital.
The Arabs have left us no account of the losses sustained in this battle. The mendacious monks, however, to whom by reason of their knowledge of letters was necessarily entrusted the task of recording the events of the time, have computed the loss of the invaders at three hundred and seventy-five thousand, probably thrice the number of all the combatants engaged; while that of the Franks is regarded as too insignificant to be mentioned. The very fact that Charles was disinclined to take advantage of the condition of his enemies loaded with plunder, deprived of their commander, and dejected by defeat, shows of itself that his army must have greatly suffered. The principal accounts that we possess of this battle, whose transcendent importance is recognized by every student of history, bear unmistakable evidence of the ecclesiastical partiality under whose influence they were composed. Monkish writers have exhausted their prolific imagination in recounting the miraculous intervention of the saints and the prowess of the champions of the Cross, which insured the preservation of Christianity. The Arabs, however, usually accurate and minute even in the relation of their misfortunes, have not paid the attention to this great event which its effect upon their fortunes would seem to warrant. Many ignore it altogether. Others pass it by with a few words. Some refer to it, not as a stubbornly contested engagement, but as a rout provoked by the disorders of an unwieldy multitude, inflamed with fanaticism, divided by faction, impatient of discipline. From such meagre and discordant materials must be constructed the narrative of one of the most momentous occurrences in the history of the world.
An account of the crushing defeat of Poitiers having been communicated to the Viceroy of Africa, he appointed Abd-al-Melik-Ibn-Kattan, an officer of the African army, Emir of Spain, and, presenting him with his commission, urgently exhorted him to avenge the reverse which had befallen the Moslem arms. The martial spirit of this commander, in whom the lapse of fourscore and ten years had not sensibly impaired the vigor of his mind or the activity of his body, was roused to enthusiasm by the prospect of an encounter with the idolaters of the North. Detained for a time in Cordova by the disturbances resulting from the disorganization of all branches of the government, he attempted, at the head of the remains of the defeated army and a reinforcement which had accompanied him from Africa, to thread the dangerous passes of the Pyrenees. But the time was ill-chosen; the rainy season was at hand; and the Saracens, hemmed in by impassable torrents, fell an easy prey to the missiles of an enterprising enemy. The march became a series of harassing skirmishes; and it was with the greatest difficulty that the Emir was enabled to extricate the remainder of his troops from the snare into which his want of caution had conducted them. Disgusted with the miscarriage of the expedition from whose results so much had been expected, Obeydallah, Viceroy of Africa, promptly deposed Abd-al-Melik, and nominated his own brother, Okbah-Ibn-al-Hejaj, to the vacant position. A martinet in severity and routine, Okbah enjoyed also a well-founded reputation for justice and integrity. He soon became the terror of the corrupt and tyrannical officials who infested the administration. He removed such as had been prominent for cruelty, fraud, or incompetency. To all who were guilty of peculation, or of even indirectly reflecting upon the honor and dignity of the Khalif, he was inexorable. With a view to insuring the safety of the highways, he formed a mounted police, the Kaschefs, in which may be traced the germ of the Hermandad of the fifteenth century and the modern Gendarmes and Civil Guards of France and Spain. From this institution, extended to the frontiers of Moslem territory as far as the Rhone, was derived the military organization of the Ribat—the prototype of the knightly orders of Calatrava, Alcantara, and Santiago, which played so conspicuous a part in the Reconquest. Okbah established a court in every village, so that all honest citizens might enjoy the protection of the law. His fostering care also provided each community with a school sustained by a special tax levied for that purpose. Devout to an almost fanatical degree, he erected a mosque whenever the necessities of the people seemed to demand it, and, thoroughly alive to the advantages of a religious education, he attached to every place of worship a minister who might instruct the ignorant in the doctrines of the Koran and the duties of a faithful Mussulman. He repressed with an iron hand the ferocious spirit of the vagrant tribes of Berbers, whose kinsmen in Africa had, in many battles, formerly experienced the effects of his valor and discipline. By equalizing the taxation borne by different communities, he secured the gratitude of districts which had hitherto been oppressed by grievous impositions, rendered still more intolerable by the rapacity of unprincipled governors. No period in the history of the emirate was distinguished by such important and radical reforms as that included in the administration of Okbah-Ibn-al-Hejaj.
The Berbers, having engaged in one of their periodical revolts in Africa, Obeydallah, unable to make headway against them, sent a despatch requiring the immediate attendance of Okbah. The latter, at the head of a body of cavalry, crossed the strait, and, after a decisive battle, put the rebels to flight. His services were found so indispensable by the Viceroy that he kept him near his person in the capacity of councillor for four years, while he still enjoyed the title and emoluments of governor of Spain. In the meantime, the greatest disorders prevailed in the Peninsula. The salutary reforms which had employed the leisure and exercised the abilities of the prudent Viceroy were swept away; the old order of things was renewed; and the provinces of the emirate were disgraced by the revival of feuds, by the oppression of the weak, by the neglect of agriculture, by unchecked indulgence in peculation, and by the universal prevalence of anarchy and bloodshed.
The dread of Charles Martel and the ruthless barbarians under his command was wide-spread throughout the provinces of Southern France. Their excesses appeared the more horrible when contrasted with the tolerant and equitable rule of the Saracens who garrisoned the towns of Septimania. The Provençal, whose voluptuous habits led him to avoid the hardships of the camp, and whose religious ideas, little infected with bigotry, saw nothing repulsive in the law of Islam, determined to seek the aid of his swarthy neighbors of the South. As Charles had already ravaged the estates of Maurontius, Duke of Marseilles, only desisting when recalled by a revolt of the Saxons, that powerful noble, whose authority extended over the greater part of Provence, in anticipation of his return, entered into negotiations with Yusuf-Ibn-Abd-al-Rahman, wali of Narbonne; a treaty was concluded, by the terms of which the Arabs were invited to assume the suzerainty of Provence, many towns were ceded to them, and the counts rendered homage to the Moslem governor, who, in order to discharge his portion of the obligation and afford protection to his new subjects, assembled his forces upon the line of the northern frontier. It was at this time that Okbah was summoned to quell the rebellion of the Berbers just as he was upon the point of advancing to secure, by a powerful reinforcement, this valuable addition to his dominions.
Early in the year 737, Charles, having intimidated his enemies and secured a temporary peace, made preparations for an active campaign in Provence. Driving the Arabs out of Lyons, he advanced to the city of Avignon, whose natural position was recognized by both Franks and Saracens not only as a place of extraordinary strength but as the key of the valley of the Rhone. Experience and contact with their more civilized neighbors, the Italians, had instructed the Franks in the use of military engines; and, notwithstanding the desperate resistance of the Arab garrison, ably seconded by the inhabitants, Avignon was taken by storm. The population was butchered without mercy, and Charles, having completely glutted his vengeance by burning the city, left it a heap of smoking ruins.
Having been delayed by the stubborn opposition of Avignon, and urged by the clamors of his followers who thirsted for the rich spoils of Septimania, the Frankish general, leaving the fortified town of Arles in his rear, marched directly upon Narbonne. Thoroughly appreciating the political and military importance of this stronghold, the capital of their possessions in France, the Arabs had spared neither labor nor expense to render it impregnable. The city was invested and the siege pressed with vigor, but the fortifications defied the efforts of the besiegers and little progress was made towards its reduction. An expedition sent to reinforce it, making the approach by sea and attempting to ascend the river Aude, was foiled by the vigilance of Charles; the boats were stopped by palisades planted in the bed of the stream; the Saracens, harassed by the enemy’s archers, were despatched with arrows or drowned in the swamps; and, of a considerable force, a small detachment alone succeeded in cutting its way through the lines of the besiegers and entering the city. The temper of the Franks was not proof, however, against the undaunted resolution of the Arab garrison. Unable to restrain the growing impatience of his undisciplined levies, Charles reluctantly abandoned the siege and endeavored to indemnify himself for his disappointment by the infliction of all the unspeakable atrocities of barbarian warfare upon the territory accessible to his arms. Over the beautiful plains of Provence and Languedoc, adorned with structures which recalled the palmiest days of Athenian and Roman genius, and whose population was the most polished of Western Europe, swept the fierce cavalry of the Alps and the Rhine. Agde, Maguelonne, and Béziers were sacked. The city of Nîmes, whose marvellous relics of antiquity are still the delight of the student and the antiquary, provoked the indignation of the invader by these marks of her intellectual superiority and former greatness. Her walls were razed; her churches plundered; her most eminent citizens carried away as hostages; her most splendid architectural monuments delivered to the flames. The massive arches of the Roman amphitheatre defied, however, the puny efforts of the enraged barbarian; but their blackened stones still exhibit the traces of fire, an enduring seal of the impotent malice of Charles Martel impressed in the middle of the eighth century.
In this memorable invasion the Arab colonists do not seem to have suffered so much as the indigenous population, which had long before incurred the enmity of the Franks. The ecclesiastical order met with scant courtesy at the hands of the idolaters. Despising the terrors of anathema and excommunication, Charles did not hesitate to appropriate the wealth of the Church wherever he could find it. Having inflicted all the damage possible upon the subjects and allies of the Khalif in Provence, the Franks, loaded with booty and driving before them a vast multitude of captives chained together in couples, returned in triumph to their homes.
This occupation of the Franks proved to be but temporary. The garrisons left in the towns whose walls were intact were insufficient to overawe the populace exasperated by the outrages it had just sustained. The Duke of Marseilles, seconded by the wali of Arles, easily regained control of the country around Avignon. But the return of Charles during the following year with his ally Liutprand, King of the Lombards, and a large army, not only recovered the lost territory but took Arles, hitherto exempt from capture, and drove the Saracens beyond the Rhone, which river for the future became their eastern boundary, a limit they were destined never again to pass.