The world's leading conquerors

by Wilson Lloyd Bevan

In the early years of Charles’ own reign, it was the wish of the Franks that they should be guided by one ruler, not by two, and in all but one of the conquests of Charles, the principle that some portion at least of the annexed nation should ask him to be their overlord was accepted. Even in the case of the Saxons, where the resistance to the Franks was universal and unanimous, the purpose of Charles was not a personal conquest of a people to be governed afterwards as dependents under an absolute ruler. Rather, as Einhard expresses it, “that united with the Franks they might along with them be made one people.” This declaration in itself explains the character of the empire founded by Charles. The closest analogy to it is to be found in the Ostrogothic kingdom of Theodoric; the difference being that Theodoric sought for allies among the independent tribal Germanic kingdoms, while the aim of Charles meant absorption of these kingdoms under the one ruling race of the Franks.

This principle is perfectly illustrated in the treatment of the Saxons after their conquest; the moment they accepted the rule of the Franks they were admitted on an equality with the Franks into the regular meetings of the armed host of the Frankish nation, and along with their conquerors took part in its legislative work. These primitive popular assemblies had originated as the Merovingian dynasty was drawing to its close, when it was realized that the people must provide for their own concerns because of the failure of the ruling house to govern efficiently or successfully. They were held generally in May at a royal villa or palace in the Rhine Valley, Aix, Worms, or Mainz. In theory every Frank was supposed to be present. Actually, only the great lords and the high ecclesiastics were at hand, and their followers stood for the people.

Only the most important personages were admitted to the deliberations. The laymen present were separated from the clergy, but sometimes the two orders sat together and went over in detail the measures prepared for them beforehand. Sometimes this process lasted several days. These informal sessions were visited by the Emperor, who passed among those present, talking familiarly to them, and asking questions as to the happenings and needs of the neighborhoods from whence they came. Outside the building were gathered a crowd of followers and retainers.

The Emperor, after taking the advice of his chief subjects, made his decisions, and the result was communicated to the people for their consent. This last act had become apparently a simple matter of form. The question submitted to the assembly had been prepared long in advance either by the immediate council at the palace, or by the autumn assembly, a body organized by Charles himself, which, when the matter was urgent, decided on questions of peace and war.

While nothing is known of the character of the deliberations of this smaller body, it is clear that measures, already settled by them, were brought before the May assembly, and so presented that the decisions taken earlier could be guessed. There were various names given to this larger body or general assembly, according to the character of the business that came before it,—conventus, placitum, synodus,—whether judicial, legislative, or ecclesiastic. It was a council of war and an executive cabinet; it was also a court of highest instance, a ministry of foreign affairs and of public worship.

At the assembly the members, great and small, made their fiscal contributions to the prince. The same vagueness, indicative of a crude and undeveloped stage of government, is seen in the legislative acts of the assembly, which appeared in the shape of what are technically called “capitularies.” Analyzing them from the modern point of view, Guizot reckoned that there were of criminal or civil legislation, 273 items; of moral and religious, 172, and that of these, one hundred dealt with matters of canon law. The only distinction made by Charles himself in the capitularies was that some were new measures and were to be added to legislation already accepted, while others were to be used for the guidance of the higher imperial officials. The first class was valid only for the duration of the reign of the sovereign under whom they were passed. The last, for a year, but the additions to laws already existing had no time limitation.

These capitularies were not intended to supersede national or tribal custom and law. Each man was judged according to the laws of his own people, and in 802 the Emperor directed that the unwritten laws of the peoples under his rule should be collected. The capitularies were, therefore, supplemental and corrective to the national codes. For example, one of them, which, by the way, met such strong opposition that the Emperor was obliged to yield the point, was intended to remove the abuse of private vengeance.

Local administration was in the hands of the counts, and, as in the Merovingian period, the administrative unit was the county. Altogether throughout the whole Empire, there were three hundred counts; the districts which they administered varied in size, the authority exercised by them being judicial, military, and financial. Along with the count and closely associated with him is the bishop. As there was in the capitularies so much which concerned the sphere of the Church, the coöperation, in their official publication, of the bishop with the count was not unnatural. Moreover, in the Empire, in addition to purely religious duties, the bishop had the function of investigating certain categories of crime, homicides, incest, etc., and in a general way, he acted as adviser of the count.

Among the count’s duties was that of defending the Church and, in trials for ecclesiastical offenses, he had to be present informally as assessor. The coöperation of the civil and ecclesiastical authorities strongly appealed to the Emperor, with his ideals of a Christian commonwealth; but in experience, the association of the bishop and the count, as local administrators, worked far from smoothly. So a capitulary of 801 mentions the Emperor’s purpose to find out the reasons why bishops and abbots, on the one hand, and counts, on the other, are not able to assist one another.

The problem of defining the limits of the secular and religious spheres gave rise to constant difficulties, and the situation was further aggravated by the fact that in many cases the counts seemed inefficient and venal. They had to be warned not to hang offenders without trial, to be sober when they were sitting in judgment, not to receive presents, not to oppress freemen, not to usurp the right which belonged to the state, not to take the goods of the poor. Once a year the counts were summoned to the royal palace, and they were required to remain there long enough to lay before the Emperor a detailed record of their administration.