THIRD MILLENNIUM LIBRARY

BIOHISTORY

 

THE HISTORY of CHARLEMAGNE

BOOK III.

FROM THE DEATH OF CARLOMAN TO THE CAPTURE OF PAVIA.

FROM AD 771 TO AD 774.

 

 

The intrigues of Desiderius were strengthened and directed by the presence of the widow and children of Carloman; but whether Charlemagne, strong in the love and support of his people, despised the weak machinations of his enemies in Italy, or whether a more pressing danger in the north called first for his attention, certain it is, that the immediate effort of his arms, after reuniting the two great parts of the French monarchy, was turned against those barbarian tribes who still ravaged the German frontier of France. With a pertinacity which nothing could overcome, and with a ruthless disregard of oaths, engagements, and ties, which no chastisement could correct, they, year after year, pillaged and desolated the transrhenane dominions of the Francs, slaughtered the inhabitants, and carried off the wealth of the country.

The chief of these nations, was that people, or confederation of tribes, called the Saxons, of whom the Frisons were either a mere branch, or else perpetual allies. With the origin of the Saxons, I am not called upon to meddle. Suffice it, that the first mention of such a people in history, is to be found in Ptolemy, who flourished in the second century of the Christian era. They were then an insignificant tribe, inhabiting, with several others, the small peninsula of Jutland, and possessing three islands at the mouth of the Elbe. Their territories, however, were soon augmented, partly by aggression on the neighboring states, and partly by coalition with other nations, who—feeling that, as numbers formed the truest strength, union was the surest policy,—combined with the Saxons, to participate in the plunder which that race continually acquired, and gradually lost their distinctive appellations in the general name of the people with whom they associated themselves.

In the time of Charlemagne, the possessions of this great league were very extensive, stretching, at one point, from the banks of the Rhine, nearly to the Oder, and on the other hand, from the North Sea, to the confines of Hesse and Thuringia. Warlike in their habits, vigorous in body, active and impatient in mind, their geographical situation, operating together with their state of barbarism, rendered them pirates, extending the predatory excursions, common to all the northern tribes, to the sea, as well as to the land.

A thousand circumstances had combined, in the course of several hundred years, to lead the Saxons to carry on their warfare upon the waves. The fleets which the Romans had built before their eyes, as well as the maritime alliance which two Roman rebels, Carausius and Magnentius, had entered into with Germany, for the purpose of obtaining support in their usurpation of the purple, taught the barbarian confederates both naval architecture and naval skill. Thus, while the art was gradually forgotten by the declining Romans, the Saxons went on in progressive improvement, and at length became, properly speaking, the only maritime people at that time in Europe.

In an age, and amongst a people, where plunder and conquest were the only substitutes known for general commerce, the Saxons felt the great advantage of possessing all the insulated positions, which could afford shelter to their frail and ill-constructed vessels. They held, from an early period, greater part of the islands scattered round the mouths of the German rivers; and soon beginning to extend their dominion, they captured, at different times, all those on the coast of France and in the British sea. Not contented, however, with this peculiar and more appropriate mode of warfare, the Saxons who remained on land, while their fellow-countrymen were sweeping the ocean, constantly turned their arms against the adjacent continental countries, especially after the conquest of Britain had, in a manner, separated their people, and satisfied to the utmost their maritime cupidity in that direction.

Surpassing all nations, except the early Huns, in fierceness, idolaters of the most bloody rites, insatiable of plunder, and persevering in the purpose of rapine to a degree which no other nation ever knew, they were the pest and scourge of the north. Happily for Europe, their government consisted of a multitude of chiefs, and their society of a multitude of independent tribes, linked together by some bond that we do not at present know, but which was not strong enough to produce unity and continuity of design. Thus they had proceeded from age to age, accomplishing great things by desultory and individual efforts; but up to the time of Charlemagne, no vast and comprehensive mind, like that of Attila, had arisen amongst them, to combine all the tribes under the sway of one monarch, and to direct all their energies to one great object.

It was for neighboring kings, however, to remember that such a chief might every day appear; and, once more leading on the barbarians of the north, might extinguish in blood the little light that still remained in Europe, if some means were not taken either to break their power, or to mitigate their ferocity. Such was the state of the Saxons at the reunion of the French monarchy under Charlemagne; and it would seem, that the first step he proposed to himself, as an opening to all his great designs, was completely to subdue a people, which every day ravaged his frontier provinces, and continually threatened the very existence of the nations around.

Against them, consequently, were turned the first efforts of his arms, as soon as he became the sole sovereign of France; but to overthrow and to subjugate was not alone his object. Doubtless, to defend his own infringed territory, and to punish the aggressors formed a part of his design; but beyond that, he aimed at civilizing a people whose barbarism had been for centuries the curse of the neighboring countries, and, at the same time, communicating to the cruel savages, who shed the blood of their enemies less in the battle than in the sacrifice, the bland and mitigating spirit of the Christian religion.

That in the pursuit of this object he should have ever committed, either on a principle of policy, or of fanaticism, or of necessity, a great and startling act of severity, is to be much lamented. But no inference can be drawn from a single fact in opposition to the whole tenor of a man’s conduct; and Charlemagne proved incontestably, by every campaign against the Saxons, that his design was as much to civilize as to subdue. These wars have been made the subject of bitter accusation against him, and it has been said, that his true policy should have been to defend his frontier by a strong line of fortresses; but we have only to turn our eyes for one moment to the invasion of the Eastern empire by the Huns, in order to find an example of the utter inefficacy of fortresses in staying the progress of barbarian armies. The hundred castles of the Illyrian border impeded not one hour the march of Attila; nor did the greater cities, though fortified by all that the united experience of Greece and Rome could suggest to strengthen them, offer any more effectual obstacle to the barbarian. The fate of the East was tried and decided in the field; and thus, with France, no fortresses could have defended her frontier from an enemy, whose inroad was ever as rapid and as destructive as the lightning. The Saxons were not less fierce, active, or vigorous than the Huns; and Charlemagne had but one choice—either boldly to seek and subject them by force of arms, to soften their manners and change their habits by the combined effect of law and religion—or, to wage constant, bloody, and disadvantageous war with them on his own frontier while they continued in separate tribes, and, if ever they united under one great chief, to risk his crown, his country, and the world, wherever and however they chose to call him to the field.

His resolution was immediately taken and, the year after the death of his brother and the choice of the people had placed him on the throne of the reunited kingdom, he held a great diet of the nation at Worms, and announced his intention of leading his warriors to the chastisement of the Saxons. Many of those who heard him had suffered, either in their property or through their relations, from incursions of the barbarians; and all willingly assented to an expedition which proposed to vindicate the insulted honor of France, and punish the spoilers of her territory. The military preparations of the young monarch were soon completed; and, entering the enemy’s territory, he laid waste the whole land with fire and sword, according to the cruel mode of warfare in that day. No force appeared to oppose him, and he penetrated, without difficulty, to the castle of Eresburg, where a garrison had been left. The fortifications were speedily forced by the Frankish soldiers, and a much more important conquest followed than that of the castle itself, namely, that of the famous temple of the Irminsula, or great idol of the Saxon nation. The temple consisted of an open space of ground, surrounded by various buildings, ornamented by everything rapine could collect and offer at the altar of superstition. In the centre rose a high column, on which was placed the figure of an armed warrior; and gold and silver, lavished on all the objects around, decorated the shrine, and rewarded the struggle of the conquerors.

Nearly at the same spot, it would appear, the famous battle took place between Arminius and Varus, in which the Roman was signally defeated, and Germany freed from the yoke of the empire. The grateful Germans, we are told, in memory of their emancipation, and in honor of their liberator, raised a rude pillar on the spot, calling it Hermansaule, or the pillar of Arminius. But, as years passed by, and many a barbarian tribe swept over the country, the occasion of its erection was forgotten—the name was corrupted to Irminsul—the reverence of the people for the monument of their victorious struggle deviated into adoration—and the statue of their triumphant general became an idol, to which many a human sacrifice was offered. It is more than probable, indeed, that Mars, the god of battles, had supplied the place of the conquering German in the minds of his succeeding countrymen; and it seems certain, that this idol was not alone the object of veneration to one particular tribe, but was considered as the great tutelary deity of the whole people.

Its capture, therefore, was naturally an ominous event in the eyes of the Saxons; and, following rigorously his purpose of extinguishing their Pagan rites, Charlemagne at once overthrew the vain object of their worship—an old and convincing mode of proving the impotence of false gods. The fane was at the same time demolished, the pillar was cast down, and buried deep below the surface of the earth, and three days were consumed in the work of destruction. This long delay, in the heat of summer, and in a dry and barren country, saw the waters of the rivers round about exhausted, and exposed the army of the Francs to all the horrors and difficulties of a general drought, in the midst of an unknown and inimical country. To advance was impossible; to retreat was perilous in the extreme; and Charlemagne was placed in a situation both painful and dangerous. One of those happy accidents, however, which, forgotten in the fate of meaner men, are marked and remembered when they second the efforts of those whose genius and whose perseverance raise them to great eminence—intervened to save the monarch and his army. While the troops were reposing, during the heat of the day, a sudden torrent filled the bed of a river, which had lain, for many days, dry before their eyes. The soldiers devoutly believed that a miracle had blessed and rewarded the destruction of the idol; and, elevated in mind as well as refreshed in body, they marched boldly on to the banks of the Weser, ready to fight with all the burning zeal of fanaticism, or to die with the iron constancy of martyrs.

Neither battle nor bloodshed proved necessary. Disunion amongst themselves, a wasted country, and a powerful enemy, were quite sufficient motives to induce the Saxons to offer once more that nominal submission, which they had so often rendered, and so often thrown off.

Charlemagne had not yet experienced their utter faithlessness himself, though the history of his predecessors furnished him with many an instance of pledges given and forgotten, and treaties entered into and violated, by the same barbarian enemy. His clemency, however, taught him to overlook the past; and, seeking rather to reclaim than punish, he accepted the twelve hostages which the Saxons offered as sureties for their future tranquility, withdrew his troops, and left the missionaries to effect by persuasion, what the sword is impotent to enforce.

It is worthy of remark, that in the course of this campaign, which may be taken as an example of the system of hostilities pursued by the Saxons against the Francs through the whole war, no general battle was fought. Scattered in various bands, a sort of federative republic without any general government, the Saxons seldom, if ever, could collect a sufficient force to oppose the great and formidable armies of the Francs. A country but slightly cultivated, and property entirely moveable, afforded them the means of abandoning the land with little risk or loss; and they vanished before the footsteps of an invading enemy, or only appeared to harass his march, and out off his supplies. Whenever he showed any inclination to advance far into the country, they obtained his absence by pretended submission, and by oaths never intended to be observed; and the moment they were freed from his presence, they endeavored to repay themselves for any damage he had occasioned, by ravaging and spoiling his frontier provinces.

In the present instance, either Charlemagne was deceived by their submission, or trusted to the capture of their fortress, and the destruction of their great idol, to intimidate and repress them. At the same time, many circumstances combined to call the young monarch back to France, and after receiving the Saxon hostages, he returned to his own country with all speed. New wars and new conquests lay before him. The storm which had been gathering in Italy, though it broke not immediately on his own head, by falling on a friendly power, whose regard for his interest had drawn it down, required him in honor and justice to interpose.

Various changes had taken place in the Italian peninsula during the expedition into Saxony, which ultimately brought about some of the greatest events in the whole of the French monarch’s magnificent career. The intrigues which Desiderius had not for a moment ceased to carry on, in order to deceive and plunder the weak pontiff of the Roman church, had been principally conducted by the well known Paul Afiarta, one of the most wily and subtle negotiators of the day. Endowed with a persuasive and popular eloquence, devoid of all moral feeling, and without any fixed principle but ambition, he had allied himself with Desiderius, in order that, supported by the Lombards, he might govern Rome, by a double influence over the prelate, and the populace. With the people he was ever a favorite, and for some time he was successful with the Pope; but, before the close of his pontificate, Stephen, notwithstanding the weakness of his understanding, began to discover how completely he had been deceived by the Lombard, and to perceive that the restoration of the contested cities was more distant than ever.

His mind was not sufficiently firm to make any equal and vigorous efforts in defence of the Roman state and he lived not long enough, after having opened his eyes to the treachery of the Lombard King, to display many of those passionate and indecent struggles, which were more in accordance with his temper and understanding. During the last few months of his life, he did little to free himself, although he saw the bonds with which he had suffered his hands to be enthralled; and dying, he left the Roman mitre nearly in the gift of Afiarta.

Adrian, who succeeded to the vacant chair, well understood the dark and ambitious character of the popular leader; but as the Roman citizens had then a principal voice in the election of their bishops, he dissembled his feelings towards Afiarta, till he himself was placed securely in the pontifical seat, by the unanimous consent of the clergy and people.

Nor even then did he venture at once to traverse the designs of the demagogue by open opposition. Afiarta was still honored and employed; and his approaching disgrace was concealed under the appearance of an honorable embassy to the court of Desiderius. Had a distant mission to an inimical monarch been proposed to the wily Roman, he would probably have suspected his danger, and refused to absent himself from a city where his safety was ensured by his influence over the multitude; but when the road laid before him was short, and the monarch to whom he went was his own immediate confederate, he saw no risk, and undertook the task. The opportunity, also, for conferring with Desiderius, seemed the most favorable that could be chosen; and Afiarta set out for Pavia, in the full belief that he was carrying on his own purposes to their consummation.

Still Adrian wisely refrained from any hasty attempt to execute his designs against the traitor, who had betrayed his predecessor, and was preparing to betray him also. He suffered Afiarta to reach the Lombard court, and to transact both the public business with which he was charged, and the private intrigues on which he was intent. But, in the meantime, the influence of the demagogue fell gradually lower and lower amongst the people of Rome, while that of Adrian, who was not himself deficient in popular talents, increased in a great degree. The Pope then found that, supported by his own favor with the citizens, and their fickle forgetfulness of their former leader, he could venture to do justice; and as the false minister was returning from his embassy, he was arrested at Ravenna by the bishop of that city, tried, condemned, and executed for the murder of Christopher and Sergius.

The exact chronology of the other events of this period is somewhat obscure; and I have separated the fate of Afiarta from the circumstances affecting Charlemagne, as I could not discover what was the part which the Roman took in any of them. It is certain, however, that Adrian was scarcely seated in the chair of St Peter, when the Lombard King, seconded probably by Afiarta, repeatedly and anxiously pressed the pontiff to acknowledge the children of Carloman, who were then in exile at his court; and to consecrate them as the rightful sovereigns of that part of France which their father had possessed during his life.

The enmity of Desiderius towards Charlemagne was both personal and political; and his object in the present instance was easy to divine. Perfectly impotent himself to invade with effect the territory of France, or to injure the monarch of an united people, he hoped, by establishing a new claim upon the Francs, supported by the sanctifying authority of the church, to raise up a powerful party for the children of Carloman in that monarch’s former dominions, and thus to create the means of attacking Charlemagne, both by drawing a large body of Francs to his own cause, and weakening his enemy through their defection.

For the purpose of gaining the pontiff, it would seem that he once more renewed his often violated oaths of making full restoration of every part of the Exarchate and Pentapolis. But Adrian was too wise, either to trust to vows whose fragile nature had been so often proved, or to abandon the alliance of a firm and powerful friend, for the promises of a feeble and treacherous enemy. His decided refusal to anoint the children of Carloman, together with the death of Afiarta, drew down upon him the utmost wrath of Desiderius. The Lombard King had not only accompanied his solicitations with promises in case they were granted, but also with threats in case they were rejected; and these threats he proceeded immediately to execute.

Taking advantage of the absence of Charlemagne in the north, and the difficulties of the Saxon warfare in which he was engaged, Desiderius prepared to follow the universal policy of his predecessors, and to aim at the possession of the whole Roman territory. His first act was the farther dismemberment of the Exarchate, from which he seized the cities of Faienza and Commacchio; an act of violence considerable in itself, but which was only the prelude to greater aggression.

The Pope remonstrated both by letters and ambassadors; but in vain. The cities remained in the hands of the Lombards; and Desiderius, at the head of a large army, entered the papal territory, and marched upon Rome itself. Adrian had no forces whatever with which he could keep the open country against the power of the Lombards; but, though straitened in every way, attacked much more rapidly than he had expected, and blockaded in the very heart of the Roman states, he remained firm and inflexible. A spark, caught from the flame of that ancient courage, which had so often shone forth in other days amongst the palaces and temples wherein he stood, seemed to blaze up in the pontiff’s heart; and Adrian resolved once more to defend the walls of Rome. The old gates, which had seen many a barbarian torrent ebb and flow, but which were now too much shattered by the siege of time to promise long defence, were taken down by his order, and new ones erected in their place; an action which at once gave additional courage to the citizens, and expressed to his enemies his unconquerable determination. Rome, however, could sustain no protracted blockade, and the aid of the Francs was absolutely necessary to save from fresh capture and spoliation the city which had herself extended conquest so far.

Even to implore such aid was a task of difficulty. By this time the whole of the surrounding country was in the hands of the Lombards, and the only means of communication still open between Rome and France, was by the Tiber and the Mediterranean. No European nation except the Saxons could be considered at that time as a maritime people. The Greeks, indeed, amongst the remains of all the mighty things which had come down to them from the golden age of the empire, possessed the ruins of a navy; and the Venetians were just beginning to aspire to dominion at sea; but the citizens of Rome were little accustomed to trust themselves to the waves; and the attempt to pass into France by the Mediterranean was, confessedly, one only to be thought of, because every other passage was obstructed. Nevertheless, an ecclesiastic of the name of Peter was found to undertake the task; and having accomplished the marine portion of his journey in safety, he arrived at Marseilles, from which place he was obliged to traverse almost the whole of France to Thionville, where, during the winter, Charlemagne was reposing after his expedition against the Saxons, and rejoicing in the birth of a son.

Admitted to the presence of the young monarch of France, the papal envoy urged, in strong language, the propriety and the duty of succoring Rome and her pontiff. Nor are the precise terms in which this demand was couched unimportant, as affecting, particularly, the only question by which the position and government of any country in the present day, is immediately connected with the age of which I speak. The messenger appeared before the King, “demanding”, says the Chronicle of Moissiac, “that he should free the Romans from the oppression of King Desiderius”, adding, that “he, Charlemagne, was the legitimate guardian and defender of that people, because Stephen the Pope, of blessed memory, had consecrated him to the Roman patriciate, anointing him with the holy unction”.

Charlemagne immediately saw that both policy and honor required him to interfere in behalf of Rome, and to support a prelate, whose resolute adherence to his cause, had brought upon him the danger against which protection was implored. Still, though thus moved by every inducement which could influence a person in his situation, though beyond all doubt warlike as a man and ambitious as a monarch, Charlemagne did not hurry on to an invasion of the Lombard territory without consideration and reluctance, nor mix in the strife of the neighboring powers—though one was his avowed enemy, the other his attached friend—without endeavoring to bring about peace by intercession, and to obtain justice by negotiation.

With a spirit of moderation, such as perhaps no monarch ever displayed but himself—notwithstanding certainty of success, confidence in his own tried powers, the enthusiastic support of his people, the urgent solicitations of a friend, a just cause for warfare, and the prospect both of glory and advantage—Charlemagne employed every milder means ere he unsheathed the sword; and paused long, in the hope of still avoiding war ere he broke the happy bonds of peace.

Desiderius, however, confiding in the advances he had already made against Rome, in the army he had raised, and in the possession of the Alpine passes, rejected every pacific offer. Twice in the course of the spring, did envoys from the sovereign of the Francs visit the court and camp of that monarch, proposing terms of peace, and offering even to buy the justice with gold which was refused to solicitation; and twice they were sent back by the Lombard, with insulting messages of arrogant refusal.

The situation of Rome had, by this time, become eminently hazardous; and Charlemagne felt that farther delay would be an act of injustice to his ally. The very consciousness of power had rendered the monarch scrupulous in its exertion, but, once driven to action, not a moment was lost, not an energy was unemployed. The Lombard had provoked him long, and, beyond doubt, began to imagine that his tardiness of resentment proceeded weakness; for the crafty and the base con­tinually deceive themselves, by attributing the actions of others to motives which would have influenced themselves. But Desiderius soon found, that, like the snow gathered on the mountains which overhung the Lombard kingdom, the spirit of Charlemagne, though long tranquil, was moved at length only to overwhelm everything by which it was opposed.

The general assembly of the Francs, or the field of May, was held at Geneva; and some time was spent in deliberating on the measures necessary to render the first efforts of the war successful. While these consultations were proceeding, the French monarch, still anxious for peace, once more sent messengers to the King of Lombardy, giving him notice and information of the vast preparations he had made to support Home by force of arms; but offering, even then, on hostages being given for the restitution of the captured cities, to withdraw his troops, and leave his expedition unaccomplished.

Desiderius rejected the last hope of peace; and Charlemagne proceeded to force his way into Lombardy, the first, but the most difficult and most important stop in the war. The strongest barrier which the hand of nature can pile up to separate rival nations, and mark the true limits of distinct countries, lay before him, in the gigantic masses of the Alps. But war was now decided on; and, undeterred by frowning precipices and everlasting snows, multiplied obstacles, difficulties, and dangers, Charlemagne advanced upon his way; and, separating his army into two divisions, he directed one, under the command of his uncle, the Duke Bernard, to cross the mountains by the Mons Jovis or Mont Joux, while he himself led the other into Italy by the passage over Mont Cenis.

To conduct a great force, consisting principally of cavalry, through two of the most difficult and precipitous mountain passes in Europe, was an undertaking which even the mind of Charlemagne, all bold and confident as it was, would not have conceived, had it not been absolutely necessary to conquer such difficulties in the outset, to ensure ultimate success.

His many attempts to obviate the approaching warfare, and the continual rumor of his military preparations, had put the enemy on his guard, and had given time for every measure of defence. All the easier passes of the mountains were already occupied, and even fortified, by the Lombards; and no way remained of forcing an entrance into Italy, but by unequal and most hazardous battle, or by the long and painful march which he determined to accomplish. It would seem, that on this passage of the Alps, great and extraordinary conquerors have taken a pleasure in trying the extent of their powers.

Hannibal, Charlemagne, and Napoleon, have each undertaken, and each succeeded in the enterprise; but of all these, perhaps, the monarch of the Francs had to contend with the greatest difficulties, with the least means of success. The Carthaginian, it is true, was harassed by enemies, and the Corsican was burdened with artillery; but the one could call to his aid all the resources of ancient art, whose miracles of power shame our inferior efforts and the other could command all the expedients of modern science, to support his own energies, and to smooth the obstacles of his way. Charlemagne stood alone in the midst of a barbarous age, when the knowledge of ancient Europe was extinguished, and the improvements of modern Europe were unknown, upheld solely by his own mighty mind in the accomplishment of an undertaking which he himself had conceived.

The design, however, was eminently successful. Notwithstanding the difficulty of procuring provisions, and ail the dangers attendant upon the march of a large force of cavalry over steeps and glaciers, snows and precipices, the army passed in safety, and began to pour down upon Italy. Few troops had been stationed by the Lombards to guard a passage considered almost impracticable; and those few were instantly put to flight, by the first body of Francs who traversed the mountains. The rest of the invading army followed, after a difficult and wearisome march; and the reunion of the two divisions took place at the foot of the descent. From the successful expedition of the Duke Bernard, with one great body of his nephew’s troops, the tremendous mountain over which he forced his way received the name, which it retains to the present day, of the Great St Bernard. It had before borne the appellation of Mons Jovis, from a temple to Jupiter, which ornamented the side of the acclivity; but the name of the Heathen deity was soon forgotten in the exploit of the Christian warrior; nor has the same passage, effected in an after age by another mighty conqueror, been able to snatch from the uncle of Charlemagne the glory of the great enterprise which he achieved, or to efface his name from the majestic object with which it is inseparably connected.

The news of this sudden appearance of the Frankish army, in a quarter where they had been so little expected, passed like lightning to Desiderius, who hastened instantly with the main body of his forces to oppose the enemy, before they could quit the narrow defiles in which they were entangled. Collecting all his troops, he took possession of the pass of La Cluse, and made a demonstration of defending it with vigor. But Charlemagne, having fortified his camp in front, detached a considerable force through the mountains, to turn the flank of the Lombards. This movement was instantly perceived by Desiderius; and, struck with sudden terror lest his retreat should be cut off, he abandoned at once his projects of resistance, and, flying to Pavia, left the country open to the Franks.

Strong fortifications and abundant provisions secured to Pavia the means of long defence; while the Franks, naturally impatient, and unaccustomed to the protracted operations of a regular siege, were likely to be foiled by one which promised every difficulty that skill, resolution, and despair, could oppose to their efforts. But the mind of Charlemagne possessed those extraordinary qualities which are only recorded of the very greatest men, and which bend to the will of the individual so gifted, even the natural character of those brought in contact with him. Determined that his conquest of the Lombards should be more effectual than that of his father, Charlemagne resolved not to abandon his design for vows which might be broken, and submission which would certainly be feigned. The siege of Pavia, therefore, was undertaken with the determination of carrying it on without pause or compromise; and the Francs themselves, yielding their national haste and eagerness to the purpose of their King, evinced a degree of patience new to all their habits.

The defence of Pavia had been undertaken by Desiderius himself; but Verona also, one of the strongest towns of his dominions, he determined to maintain against the enemy, while he left the rest of the Lombard cities very nearly to their fate. The government of Verona he entrusted to his son Adalgisus; and thither also the wife and children of Carloman were sent, for their greater security, as to a place not exposed, like Pavia, to the first attack of the invaders. At the same time, Autcarius, a Frankish noble, who had accompanied Giberga to Lombardy, was invested with a share of that command for which the youth and inexperience of Adalgisus rendered him not fully competent.

The supposition that the resistance of Pavia would long retard the progress of Charlemagne against Verona, proved to be fallacious. From the first, the Frankish monarch seems to have determined to reduce the Lombard capital rather by absolute blockade, than by more active measures and, as a large portion of his troops were thus unemployed, no sooner had he seen the trenches completed round that city, than he led a division of his army against Verona. Astonished at the rapidity of his progress, and cut off from all communication with Desiderius, Adalgisus lost heart, and, instead of attempting to occupy and divide the invading force by a spirited resistance, he abandoned the army committed to his care, and, leaving Verona, fled, first to Pisa, and thence to Constantinople. He was destined never to revisit Lombardy; but his existence at the court of Constantine, the enemy both of the Popes and of Charlemagne, was long a subject of disquietude to the conqueror of Italy.

Verona, abandoned by the prince, surrendered almost immediately, and the widow and children of Carloman fell into the hands of the victor. What was the conduct of Charlemagne to the beings thus cast upon his mercy, has not yet been discovered. The eldest son of the dead Carloman is never again mentioned in history, and a vague and improbable tale is all that has reached us concerning the second. That tale, however, if it be true, shows that the monarch treated his nephew with kindness; and the general character of Charlemagne may well justify our belief so far, whether the whole be true or not. The same darkness is spread over the history of Giberga, which involves that of her children; and the only farther account we have of Autcarius, is a laudatory composition in praise of a person of a somewhat similar name, which, however, is by no means clearly proved to be applicable to the follower of Carloman.

No sooner had Verona fallen, than the victorious monarch hastened back to press the siege of Pavia; and his designs on Italy gradually extending themselves with time, opportunity, and experience, he began to contemplate a longer absence from his native country than he had at first proposed, in order to effect completely what he had so boldly undertaken. His wife and children, therefore, received directions to join him in the camp before Pavia; and their coming gave a new proof to the Lombards of his unchangeable resolution, and afforded to his soldiers a demonstration of the persevering patience with which he intended to carry on the siege.

Although the capital still held out, the other cities of the Lombard kingdom one by one surrendered to detached bodies of the Francs. Few of them offered any resistance, and in general the people seemed not unwilling to amalgamate themselves with a great and conquering nation. Pavia, nevertheless, was defended long with all the energy of valor, and the pertinacity of despair. The abundant stores with which it had been supplied, managed with care and frugality, kept up the spirits of the inhabitants, and preserved the obedience of the garrison. Days, weeks, and months passed by; summer, autumn, and winter fled; and yet the city maintained its resistance, though the whole of the rest of Lombardy had submitted.

At length, as the high solemnity of Easter ap­proached, Charlemagne prepared to visit Rome, leaving to his officers the task of carrying on the siege during his absence. Various motives induced him to undertake the journey; and those extensive views of general policy, that on all occasions showed him the utmost extent of advantage which could be reaped from any measure, taught him to look upon a visit to the ancient capital of the world as a means of extending his power, and deriving the greatest benefit that could accrue from his expedition to Italy.

Lombardy, except the capital, whose resistance could not be effectual, was already conquered ; and the Frankish monarch regarded that country as his own, by the right which, with very few exceptions, had hitherto alone bestowed dominion, and trans­ferred the scepter from one race to another. He was King of Lombardy by force of arms; but at Rome he was to be received as Patrician, and Ravenna looked upon him as Exarch,—titles which had previously been mere names, but of which he now intended to exercise the rights. The people of Rome, by their voluntary act, had named him Patrician, or military governor; and both his father and himself had been called upon to perform the most arduous duties of that station, without exercising any of the power which the office implied. But Italy was now at the monarch’s feet; and Charlemagne, without the least desire to trample on it, prepared to take upon himself the full character of Patrician, and to govern, though his government was of the mildest quality.

The news of his approach flew rapidly to Rome; and the supreme pontiff, at once animated by original feelings of regard and esteem, grateful for services rendered, and mindful of benefits to come, prepared to receive the conqueror of his enemies, in the ancient queen of empires, with all the solemn splendor which suited the man, the occasion, and the scene.

In the meantime, Charlemagne set out from Pavia, accompanied by a considerable army, and an immense train of bishops, priests, and nobles; and, passing through Tuscany, he advanced by rapid journeys upon Rome. Shouts and songs of triumph greeted him on the way; towns, castles, and villages, poured forth to see him pass; the serf, the citizen, and the noble, joined in acclamations which welcomed the conqueror of the Lombards; and dead Italy seemed to revive at the glorious aspect of the victor. Thirty miles from the city, he was met by all those who could still boast of generous blood in Rome, with ensigns and banners; and at a mile’s distance from the walls, the whole schools came forth to receive him, bearing in their hands branches of the palm and the olive, and singing, in the sweet Roman tongue, the praises and gratulations of their mighty deliverer. Thither, too, came the standard of the cross, with which it had been customary to meet the Exarchs on their visits to the city; and truly, since the days of her ancient splendor, never had Rome beheld such a sight as entered her gates with the monarch of the Francs.

It was now no savage army come to ravage and to spoil, with hunger and hatred in their looks, and foulness and barbarism in their garments. On the contrary, a long train of the princes and nobles of a warlike and beautiful nation, mingling, in the brilliant robes of peace, with all the great of a people they had delivered, entered the gates of Rome, and, amidst songs of victory and shouts of joy, were led forward, through all the splendid remains of ancient art, the accumulated magnificence of centuries of power and conquest, by a monarch such as the world has seen but once.

Above the ordinary height of man, Charlemagne was a giant in his stature as in his mind; but the graceful and easy proportion of all his limbs spoke the combination of wonderful activity with immense strength, and pleased while it astonished. His countenance was as striking as his figure; and his broad high forehead, his keen and flashing eye, and bland unwrinkled brow, offered a bright picture, wherein the spirit of physiognomy, natural to all men, might trace the expression of a powerful intellect and a benevolent heart.

On so solemn an occasion as his entry into Rome, the general simplicity of his attire was laid aside; and he now appeared blazing in all the splendor of royalty, his robes wrought of purple and gold, his brow encircled with jewels, and his very sandals glittering with precious stones.

 

As he approached the church of St Peter, and was met by the Exarch’s cross, the monarch alighted from his horse, and, with his principal followers, proceeded on foot to the steps of the cathedral. The marks of his reverence for the shrine of the apostle were such as a sovereign might well pay, whose actions and whose power left no fear of respect being construed into submission. In the porch, near the door, he was met by Pope Adrian, attended by all his clergy, clothed in the magnificent vestments of the Roman church; and while loud shouts rent the air of “Blessed be he who cometh in the name of the Lord!” the pontiff held his deliverer to his heart, poured forth his gratitude, and loaded him with blessings.

The meeting was one of great interest, both to the priest and the monarch. I know no reason why, in examining the characters of princes, we should endeavor to set them apart, in their sentiments, from the rest of human beings, and not believe them to be actuated by the same affections as their fellow men. Though Charlemagne was a great conqueror and a clear-sighted politician, an ambitious king and a dauntless warrior, we know that he had a heart full of the kindest and the gentlest feelings; and there is every reason to believe, that all the finer emotions of his bosom were affected by his meeting with the Roman pontiff. That he revered Pope Adrian as a prelate, and loved him as a man, his after life sufficiently evinced; and when he met him, for the first time, in the midst of Rome, he must have remembered that, sooner than bring discord and strife into his dominions, the old man before him had dared the enmity of a powerful and vindictive monarch, had seen his country wasted and destroyed, and had exposed himself to be besieged in a vast, but ruined and depopulated city. We may well believe, then, that the feelings of reverence and affection he expressed were the genuine emotions of the young sovereign’s heart. Such feelings on his part, while the Pope, on the other hand, acknowledged in him the 6aviour of Rome, and the deliverer of the church, could not fail to create between them a bond of sympathy and regard such as circumstances seldom suffer to exist amongst the great of the earth. The friendship, thus begun, continued through their mutual lives; and, with the invariable fortune of union between the good and wise, tended immensely to the safety and prosperity of both.

After the arrival of the monarch, several days were spent in celebrating the solemnities of Easter; but neither the Pope nor the King neglected those matters of temporal jurisdiction, which were now tending towards a more clear and decided establishment than Italy had known for many years. Charlemagne was evidently received as sovereign by the Pope himself, and by the whole people of Rome. He was crowned with the diadem of the Patricians, or Exarchs, and exercised, for the first time, the extensive sway with which that office invested him. In whatever manner Pepin had reannexed the Exarchate and Pentapolis to Rome, that act, it is clear, was in no degree such as to exempt those territories, or even Rome itself, from the dominion of the Patrician. On the entrance of Charlemagne into the city, there was no struggle, dispute, or misunderstanding about authority. It was assumed by him at once, and granted by the clergy and the people as the undoubted right of the Patriciate; nor did he ever cease to use the supreme power, first as Patrician, and afterwards as Emperor, from his arrival in Italy to the close of his life and reign. To him all great causes were referred; the Pope himself appeared before him as before his judge; and we find repeated instances of his having extended his jurisdiction to ecclesiastical, as well as civil affairs, throughout the whole of the Roman territory.

Nevertheless, there is every reason to believe that Adrian solicited, and that the monarch granted, considerable territories, to be held by the Church of Rome, though solely conceded as by lord to vassal, and by no means independent of the Patrician. A great variety of forms had by this time been introduced amongst feofs and benefices; and what were the feudal privileges granted on the present occasion, what those reserved, is very difficult to ascertain; for, though the Popes have since asserted that the donation of Charlemagne was written, the original deed has never been seen by any one; and through the whole correspondence of the pontiffs with that monarch, we find no mention made of such an instrument. So far from it, indeed, that, within a few months of the gift, a contest took place between Adrian himself, and Leo, Archbishop of Ravenna, concerning the limits of the district granted by Charlemagne to the Church of Rome, which would have been at once determined by the production of the monarch’s charter. This, however, was never done, and the Pope was obliged to apply to the King of the Francs, in order to establish the facts. Such an event seems to determine the question; for it must not be forgotten, that the dispute was not about a small portion of frontier land, which the ambiguity of language might render difficult to define; but about cities and provinces, in regard to which no doubt could have been entertained, if any written deed had existed to establish the papal claims.

The limits of the territory granted remain equally uncertain to the present day. The papal historians declare, that the gift of Charlemagne included, besides the Exarchate and Pentapolis, the whole of Corsica, Parma, Mantua, Reghio, and Bardi, with the Venetian provinces, and a considerable part of the Tyrol, as well as Spoleto and Beneventum. But the Popes themselves, with more moderate wisdom, never, in their letters to the donor, speak of anything beyond the Exarchate and Pentapolis, except the territory of Spoleto; and though it is not improbable that Charlemagne might, as Gibbon asserts, give that to which he had no right—for rights were then but badly defined—it is not at all likely that he should give what he did not possess, which is implied by the more than doubtful account of Anastasius.

Some slight mention appears to have been made about this time, of a prior donation from Pepin to the Holy See; but not in such terms as to call for opposition or confutation, even had Charlemagne been inclined to resist the transfer of the property from the people to the church. That he was not so, is sufficiently evident from his own gift to the Popes, of those provinces which his father had reannexed to the Roman state, with the addition of Spoleto. But, at the same time, it is to be remarked in regard to this famous donation, that even then existed the custom of granting considerable territories to the principal churches and monasteries under the dominion of the sovereign, as a feudal property to be held of the crown; nor can I look upon the gift of Charlemagne in any other light, though various after circumstances seem to prove, that the people of the city of Rome still continued to regard themselves as an independent republic till the hour that the Patrician was saluted Emperor. To hold these territories even as a vassal of the Frankish monarch, was still, in the opinion of the Pope, a great step gained; and we never find that he made any opposition, or offered any remonstrance, to the many acts of sovereignty exercised by Charlemagne within the very provinces bestowed, although those acts were, in several instances, such as were seldom justified by the feudal tenure of any lands in that day.

Satisfied with the assertion of his authority by a temporary exhibition of the Patrician power, Charlemagne seems to have required little immediate return from the pontiff for the services he had rendered to Rome and the church. After regulating some clerical affairs of little interest, he hastened back to Pavia, where his presence at the head of the army had become necessary, for the purpose of supporting and encouraging his soldiers under the wearisome labors of the longest and most difficult siege which the Francs had ever undertaken. At the same time, many circumstances imperatively required that he should press the Lombard capital to its immediate fall, and turn his steps towards his own paternal dominions.

One of the most urgent of these circumstances was the state of his northeastern frontier, from which continual accounts of the most alarming character reached him in the heart of Italy. It appears, that no sooner had the news of his absence from France spread abroad, than the Saxons hastened to take advantage of so favorable a moment, and to avenge their recent subjection, by ravaging the borders of their conqueror’s territory. Flame and the sword desolated the land; and though, on one occasion, a panic, which the monks willingly mistook for a miracle, caused the barbarians suddenly to fly, at the very moment they were advancing to burn the church of St Boniface, at Fridislar, their terror was soon forgotten, and their devastation recommenced.

With these motives for activity stimulating his mind, Charlemagne took vigorous measures to render the blockade of Pavia more severe than ever. No living thing was suffered to enter or to quit the city but the birds of the air; and though Desiderius still resisted with desperate resolution, famine soon began to undermine the courage of the Lombards. The hopelessness of rescue, the subjugation of the whole country round, the weariness of restraint, the known clemency of the victor, and the miseries of a protracted siege, all acted on the hearts of the Pavians, and at length, about the middle of the year, they threw open their gates to the Francs.

To compensate for the obstinate resistance, which they feared the conqueror might construe into crime, the Lombards in the city delivered up Desiderius, his wife, and daughter, to Charlemagne, without any stipulation in their favor; and, indeed, seem themselves to have relied entirely on the mercy of their conqueror. Their reliance was not in vain: no cruelty stained the glory of the triumph. Pavia did not even suffer from plunder; and the treasures found in the palace of the vanquished Desiderius repaid the Frankish soldiers for their long fatigues, though no part went to swell the stores of their own liberal monarch. A medal was struck upon the occasion of the fall of Pavia, but Charle­magne did not permit any painful act of triumph to crush the iron into the flesh of the Lombards. Their institutions were still left to them inviolate; and the monarch of the Francs appeared amongst them less as a conqueror, than as a father.

He instantly, however, took the title of King of Lombardy, and was crowned with the iron circle which the monarchs of that country had assumed after their settlement in Italy; but the choice was still left to the people of the land, in all cases, whether they would be judged by their own, the Roman, or the Frankish law. A few additions, indeed, were made to the Lombard code; but even this was done with a sparing and judicious hand, and was softened with the pretence of supplying the laws which had been lost or forgotten.

The disposition, also, which the Lombards had shown to amalgamate themselves with the Francs, met with every encouragement from the great French monarch, whose desire was ever to win, rather than to compel. He received the oath of homage from the Lombard nobles; and, as if that oath could not be broken, trusted them, in general, with the entire government of their towns and provinces, confided in their faith alone, and strove in everything to smooth the way for the complete union of the two nations, taking care that the humiliation of overthrow should not impede the progress of pacification and concord

These regulations required some time to perfect; but, at length, Charlemagne once more set out for France, and reached it in the middle of August, leaving but few troops in the Lombard kingdom. Pavia, the capital, and a small number of frontier towns, received garrisons, but the people in general had evinced a willingness in their submission; and Charlemagne, too strong to be fearful, was too noble to be suspicious.

Adalgisus, however, was now at the court of Constantinople, whose emperor still looked towards Italy with envy and regret; and it was not at all unlikely, that the peace of Charlemagne’s new kingdom might soon be troubled by the intrigues of the Emperor of the East. Desiderius, with his wife and daughter, were carried or sent into France by the conqueror, and, apparently, were obliged to embrace the monastic life; for we find that the dethroned monarch was first committed to the charge of Agilfred, Bishop of Liege, and was afterwards conveyed to the monastery of Corbie, where he lived for some time in the practice of mild virtues and superstitious observances, and died at an unknown period.

Whether the peace that he now enjoyed, compensated for the splendor that he had lost, and the calm contemplations of the cloister were sufficient occupation, after the troublous ambitions of the palace, history does not mention, though it insinuates that he was happy. But still, there can be little doubt, that the consciousness of having cast away empire for revenge, must have mingled remorse with memory, and forced many a regret upon his mind,—especially when he reflected that his own intrigues had worked his downfall, and learned, from the moral voice of the irretrievable past, that had he been virtuous, he might have continued great.