THE HISTORY of CHARLEMAGNE

BOOK XIII.

FROM CHARLEMAGNE'S LAST VISIT TO ROME TO HIS DEATH

800 TO 814.

While such had been the occupations of Charlemagne in France and Germany, Rome had been the theatre of events which strongly called for his presence in Italy. The hatred which Campulus and Paschal, the two disappointed aspirants to the papacy, had conceived against the more successful Leo had slumbered, but was not extinct; and towards the year 799 some circumstances which are not known seem to have roused it into new activity. The ecclesiastical situations held by the two factions Romans, and the favor with which they were regarded by the unsuspecting Leo himself, gave them many oportunities, we might imagine, for executing any project of revenue which went the length of aissassination. It would appear, however, that Paschal and his fellow-conspirator, though determined to gratify their vengeance, and to open the way to their ambition, rendering the pope incapable of fulfilling the pontifical office, hoped, by a mixture of boldness and art, to escape the penal consequences of their crime, and to cover the mutilation they intended to perform under the hurry and confusion of a popular tumult.

The moment they chose for the perpetration of their design was while the pope, attended by all the clergy, and followed by all the populace, rode in state through a part of the city, performing what was called the Greater Litany. On the day appointed for the solemnity—the 25th of April—the ceremonies commenced without any appearance of danger, or any suspicion of treason. Paschal and Campulus were placed close to the person of the chief pontiff, and are said to have received from him some new mark of kindness on that very morning. All passed tranquilly till the line of the procession approached the monastery of St. Stephen and St. Sylvester; and even then the banners and crosses, the clerks and the chorists, which preceded the pope, were permitted to advance, till suddenly, as the higher clergy began to traverse the space before the building, armed men were seen mingling among the people. The march of the procession was obstructed a panic seized both the populace and the clergy. All fled but Campulus, Paschal, and their abetter; and Leo was left alone in the hands of the conspirators. The pontiff was immediately assailed and cast upon the ground; and, with eager but trembling hands,—for crime is generally fearful,—the traitors proceeded to attempt the extinction of his sight, and the mutilation of his tongue. It is probable that the struggles ot their unfortunate victim disappointed the strokes of the conspirators; and that his exhaustion from terror, exertion, and loss of blood deceived them into a belief that they had more than accomplished their purpose. Dispersing the moment the deed was committed, the chief conspirators left the apparently lifeless body of the prelate to be dragged into the monastery of St. Erasmus, which was done under the pretence of yielding him aid and succour, but in reality with the intention of retaining his person in captivity, if he survived the horrible infliction with which they had visited him. The news of the crime which had been committed spread like lightning, not only through Rome itself, but to the adjacent states, and soon reached the ears of Winegisus, Duke of Spoleto, who, though frequently opposed to the see of Rome, was on all occasions a frank and gallant enemy or a sincere and zealous friend. Without losing an instant, the Duke of Spoleto armed in favor of the pope, and, marching with all speed, encamped under the walls of Rome.

THE CASE OF LEO III

In the meanwhile, Leo had recovered from the first effect of his wounds, and was in a state to second the efforts which were made for his release by his friends and attendants. Albinus, his chamberlain, left no means untried to assist him; and co-operators having been found in the interior of the convent in which he was confined, he was lowered from the walls by ropes, and restored to his friends, who immediately conveyed him to the church of St, Peter. His recovery and escape struck the conspirators with astonishment and terror; and their suspicions instantly fixing upon the chamberlain as the person who had contrived his evasion and had given him refuge, they attacked that officer's house, which was speedily plundered and destroyed.

Before they could proceed, however, to further search, the arrival of the Duke of Spoleto with an overpowering force put a stop to their outrages; and the pope, placing himself under his protection, retired to Spoleto, while messengers were dispatched to Charlemagne to communicate the events and demand instructions. The news reached the monarch of the Franks as he was about to head one of his many expeditions into Saxony; and, without pausing on his march, he commanded Winegisus to send the Roman pontiff forward to Paderborn, with all the pomp and honor due to the successor of St. Peter.

His commands were immediately obeyed; and Leo was received at the military court of the monarch with distinction and kindness. Nevertheless, accusations were not wanting against the pontiff, and, though what the crimes were with which his enemies charged Leo cannot be discovered, it is sufficiently evident that Paschal and Campulus now attempted to justify what they could not conceal, by imputing atrocious vices to him whom they had attempted to destroy. The artifice was too apparent, and their own crime too glaring, for Charlemagne to give any credit to the charge, however boldly made, while it was unsupported by better evidence than their individual assertion.

Justice, nevertheless, required that examination and punishment should follow such accusations and such violence; and consequently, after entertaining the Roman prelate for some time at his court, Charlemagne sent him back to Rome, accompanied by nine commissioners, chosen from the highest and most incorruptible nobles of France, both clerical and secular, with orders to re-establish him in the apostolic chair; but, at the same time, to collect and investigate all the charges against him. The monarch's promise was likewise given to visit Italy himself and to judge between him and his accusers. Without any historical grounds for such a conjecture, a suspicion has been raised, and magnified into an assertion that Chariemagne, in saving that promise aimed at the assumption of the imperial dignity. The same populace which had fled terrified from the side of the pope when attacked by the conspirtors received him with joy and acclamations on his return; while the presence of the Frankish commissioners, and the support of a Frankish army, gave dignity and security to the resumption of the pontifical office. The counts, bishops, and archbishops who had followed the prelate from France immediately proceeded to exercise the functions with which Charlemagne had invested them, by inquiring minutely into the assault that had been committed on the person of Leo himself, and by examining the charges which his enemies brought against him. What was the nature of the evidence given on this occasion does not appear; but the investigation ended by the arrest of Campulus, Paschal, and several other Romans, who were instantly despatched as prisoners to France, to wait the promised journey of the monarch himself. By the various emergencies of state mentioned in the preceding book, that journey was delayed till late in the year 800; when at length Charlemagne, having convoked the general assembly of the nation, and announced the reasons which impelled him once more to journey into Italy, took his departure from Mayence, and, accompanied by an army marched on to Ravenna.

Various motives, besides the decision of the great cause between Leo and his enemies, combined to lead the monarch into Italy; and among these, one of the principal inducements was the desire of putting a termination to the war which had sp long continued between his son Pepin and the young Duke of Beneventum. In this Charlemagne had hitherto taken no part, except by affording occasional advice and assistance to his son; but now, although he seems still to have determined upon refraining from personal hostilities, he came prepared to render more effectual support to Pepin than that prince had hitherto received.

Nevertheless, it is evident that the attention of Charlemagne was principally directed towards the reorganization of the deranged government of Rome. It cannot be doubted, indeed, that the defence and support of the Roman church was always an object of great—perhaps too great—consideration with that monarch. But it must be remembered, at the same time, that in his days that church held out the only means within his reach of spreading the mild doctrines of Christianity, and thus afforded the only sure basis for civilization and improvement.

To guard and to maintain it, therefore, was one of the principal endeavors of his life; and, on the present occasion he did not show any relaxation of zeal in its defence. As soon as he had made all the necessary arrangements with his son Pepin, whom he sent at the head of the army he had brought from France to carry on the war against Beneventum, the monarch of the Franks quitted Ancona, to which place he had advanced, and then proceeded towards Rome. At Lamentana he was met by Leo, who was still received and treated with such marks of favor as showed no bad impression of his conduct; and on entering Rome the next day the monarch of the Franks met with the same enthusiastic reception which had welcomed him on his first visit to the eternal city.

After a repose of seven days, Charlemagne proceeded to the task which had brought him to Rome, and made every perquisition, we are told, in order to ascertain the truth or falsehood of the accusations which had been levelled at the pope. Every anthority agrees in stating that these could not be to the slightest degree substantiated; but, at the same time, it is but fit to remark, that all the accounts which have reached us received their origin from either the adherents of the person who was acquitted, or of the judge who pronounced sentence in his favor. No reason, however, exists for supposing that the decision of Charlemagne was prejudiced or unjust. Nor did he solely rely upon his own judgment in a matter where, though he might feel sure of the equity of his intentions, he might doubt the impartiality of his affections. A synod, comprising all the higher clergy of Rome, was called; the evidence which had been procured was laid before it : and the members of which it was composed were directed to pronounce between the head of their order and two of the most distinguished members of their own body.

Charlemagne, unbiased by the shrewd policy of ecclesiastical interests, sat as sovereign and judge to try the pontiff. He acted as the ruler that he felt himself to be; he used the authority he knew that he possessed; and only considered his capability of deciding justly without looking into the remote consequences of the proceeding in which he was engaged.

Not so the eccLesiastics whom he called to his aid. Each individual was a member of that mystic and indivisible whole—the Church of Rome, which, in the perpetuity of its own nature, communicated to all its parts that prescience and devotion to future interests that no temporal and transitory dynasty has ever been able to inculcate or enforce. To the synod, therefore, from whose wisdom and impartiality Charlemagne expected a verdict, the precedent of such a tribunal appeared most dangerous, especially while a lay monarch assumed to himself the privilege of presiding at its deliberations. To sanction it by any recorded sentence was painful to each of the members, while to oppose the will of the patrician, or to expose the motives which rendered the measure obnoxious, were equally impossible. One of those happy stratagems which have so often blessed the policy of the Vatican, and which was doubtless concerted between the chief pontiff and his prelates, delivered the assembly from the difficulty under which they labored.

No one appeared to accuse the pope, and each of the ecclesiastics declared his private opinion of his innocence; but, without at all imputing the right of Charlemagne to sit in judgment on the supreme pontiff, the assembled prelates severally declared that they could not, according to any of the rules of ecclesiastical discipline, pass sentence, whether of condemnation or acquittal, upon their general superior. In this dilemma, Leo himself proposed, that, according to a custom frequently resorted to under peculiar circumstances, he should purge himself, by a solemn oath, of the crimes of which he had been accused; and, mounting the pulpit of the church of St. Peter, he took the Book of Life in his hand, and with the most awful asseveration which can pass the lips of a Christian, declared, in the face of the assembled congregation, his perfect innocence of the charges which had been brought against him. Joy and festivity succeeded this termination of the trial; and the judgment to be passed on the assassins who had attempted the murder or mutilation of the pope was reserved for an after period.

THE CORONATIOMN OF CHARLEMAGNE

A great epoch in the history of Europe was now approaching. We have seen that the Roman people, with their efforts directed and concentrated by their bishops had cast off the authority of the Eastern empire on account of the inconoclastic heresy. They had not rendered their separation irreparable by electing a new Emperor of the West; but they had resumed some of the forms of the republic, and had named for themselves a patrician, who exercised in Rome the imperial power, without possessing the imperial name. That patrician had conquered for himself the kingdom of Lombardy, had claimed and received homage from Beneventum, had recovered a great part of the territories of ancient Rome in the West, and had acquired a vast extent of country that the empire, in her best days, had never been able to subdue. He had the power and the will to protect his subjects more than any other monarch in Europe; and he already possessed and exercised a degree of authority which no title could render greater.

At the same time, though the heresy of the East, which had caused the separation, was done away, the holy images restored to their places, and intemperate zeal displayed in their defence; yet the Patriarch of Constantinople was a dangerous rival to the pontiff of Rome; and the government of the emperors withheld from the pope many a rich diocess, and a profitable territory. The impotence of the court of Constantinople, either to defend or maintain the empire and its struggles with the Popes; and the natural predilection of the Byzantine monarchs for their eastern provinces had already proved the ruin and debasement of Italy.

To return, therefore, under the domimon of the East could never be contemplated either by the Romans or their pontiffs, while to render their separation eternal, by the election of a new Emperor of the West showed a prospect of many advantages, both direct and collateral. The orthodoxy of the French monarch, indeed, was more than doubtful in the eyes of the Roman church; but though his scribes had been zealous in their condemnation of the iconoclasts, even to ribaldry, the king himself had preserved a more temperate demeanour, and had bowed himself to the ancient proverb of following at Rome the usages of Rome. A thousand personal motives, also, conduced to close the eyes of the pope towards the heretical doctrines which had been honoured by the name of Charlemagne. Gratitude for immense benefits conferred, and the prospect of rewards to follow, might act as a strong inducement in determining the restoration of the Western empire, and the election of Charlemagne. But there might be other and more powerful causes still, which operated in the mind of the pontiff to produce the same resolution. The general vassals of an emperor bore a much higher rank than the vassals of a foreign king. Italy, so long a dependent province, would at once take the first place, rise up from the ashes of four centunries and soar again into the blaze of empire; while the pontiff, whom a king had presumed to judge, would shake off the degradation of his submission, by rewarding his protector with an imperial crown. The distant prospect of future claims and encroachments, to be founded on that gift, might present itself vaguely to the eye of sacerdotal policy; and a basis for entire territorial independence and immense ecclesiastical dominion, might perhaps be seen by the pontiff, in his creation of an emperor, and nomination to dominion.

Such were probably the motires of Leo for the revival of the empire of the West in the person of Charlemagne. The motives of the French monarch for accepting it were as clear, but were not quite so unmixed with difficulties. The jealous enmity which must naturally arise in the bosoms of the Greek emperors would necessarily require opposition, either by arms or negotiations, in a moment when, surrounded on every side by enemies, all the energies of his own vast mind scarcely sufficed to meet the many dangers by which he was assailed. Nor could Charlemagne feel quite sure that the Franks would cordially accede to his deriving a higher title, and more unlimited authority, from another nation, than that which they conceded to their kings. All these matters required time for consideration; and, even when his resolution was fixed, time for preparation also. It is probable, that shortly after his arrival hi Italy, he received an intimation of the pope's intention to revive the empire of the Wast, and of the determination which had been formed, to elect him to the high station thus created; and it is probable also that he signified his disapprobation of the proposal in such terms as were intended not to crush the design, but to delay the execution.

The pope, however, impelled by much stronger motives, and withheld by no difficulties, having obtained the consent of the Roman people, and prepared all things for his purpose, determined not to lose the opportunity, or to suffer delay to bring forth obstacles to a transaction so advantageous to himself. It is not unlikely that some rumour of the preparations made by the pontiff might reach the ears of the French monarch, but that, always supposing he would be consulted before the ceremony actually took place, he felt sure of being able to delay it till such time as he himself had used every necessary precaution.

However that may be, on Christmas-day Charlemagne, with the rest of the Catholic- world, presented himself in the church of St. Peter, to offer up his prayers with the multitude to the Giver of all dignities and debasements, the Ruler of kings and peasants. At the request of the pope, and to gratify the Roman people, he had laid aside the national dress which he usually wore on days of solemnity, and which consisted of a close tunic embroidered with gold, sandals laced with gold and studded with jewels, a mantle clasped with a golden agraffe, and a diadem shining with precious stones. He now appeared in the long robe of the patrician, and, as military governor of Rome, presented himself to the people as a Roman. The church was filled with the nobility of Italy and France; and all that they saw around, after they entered its vast walls, most have told them that some great ceremony was about to take place. At the high altar stood the head of the Christian church, surrounded by all the splendid clergy of Italy; and the monarch, approaching, knelt on the steps of the altar, and for some moments continued to offer up his prayers. As he was about to rise, Leo advanced, and, raising an imperial crown, he placed it suddenly on the brows of the monarch, while the imperial salutations burst in thunder from the people,—"Long life and victory to Charles Augustus, crowned by God great and pacific Emperor of the Romans!"

Whether the extraordinary preparations which he must have seen in the church had given Charlemagne any suspicion of the intentions of the pope, or whether the conduct of the pontiff really took him by surprise, must ever be a matter of doubt. At all events, the only alternative now left him was either to refuse the dignity for ever or to accept it at once; and though, in all probability, he would willingly have delayed the expression of his determination, he acquiesced in the proceeding of the pope when the ceremony had commenced. Daring the different intervals of the religious forms appropriate to the day, the supreme pontiff administered the oath which confirmed Charlemagne's acceptance of the title put upon him, anointed him from the head to the feet, in the manner practised on the coronation of the Jewish kings, and adored him according to the forms employed towards the Cesars. From that hour the titles both of king and of patrician were laid aside; and the monarch of the Franks became the Emperor of the Romans. Thenceforward his coins were inscribed with his new dignity, and his acts were dated from the years of his empire.

Magnificent presents, tables of silver, vases and chalices of pure gold, crowns and patenas enriched with gems, expressed the gratitude of the monarch for the zeal, if not for the service, of the pope; and though Charlemagne declared that he would not have visited the church that day if he had anticipated the event, he showed no anger at the officiousness of the prelate.

Shortly after his coronation, Charlemagne proceeded to the trial of the conspirators, whose brutal assault upon the sacred person of the supreme pontiff had been one of the principal causes of his journey to Rome. The accusations against the prelate, under cover of which they had attempted to shelter their own crime, remained, as I have before said, totally unproved, while the facts against themselves were susceptible of no evasion. Their trial was carried on in Rome according to the Roman law. Nothing was brought forward to palliate their offence, or to cast a doubt upon the charge; and, reproaching each other publicly for their mutual crime and common danger, they were silent in reply to the accusation and the evidence against them.

Their guilt being estabblished beyond doubt, their condemnation followed; and the severest sentence of the law was pronounced against them by the emperor. But the object of their hatred and their violence became their intercessor with the monarch, and, by obtaining the pardon they little deserved, did more to prove his own innocence and their calumny than had been done by the synod of the prelates or the oath at the cathedral. Their lives were spared to the earnest prayer of Leo. Neither did they suffer that horrible infliction which they had attempted to execute upon the pontiff—the deprivation of sight, which was then a common punishment for criminals less guilty than themselves. Charlemagne, however, wisely removed them from the scene of their crime and their intrigues; and, by banishing them for ever, at once relieved the pope from their presence, and assigned them a degree of punishment, though most inadequate to their offence.

WAR WITH BENEVENTUM

In the disposition and arrangement of the affairs of Italy the emperor passed the whole of the spring; and during his stay on this occasion, as well as on every former visit to Rome, he exercised an acknowledged power in ecclesiastical matters, which might have rendered the after claims of the clergy ridiculous, had they not been too successful. The conclusion of the war with Beneventum also occupied the monarch's attention; and, although he still refrained from mingling with it in person, the uncertain nature of his political relations with Constantinople made him far more anxious than he had ever hitherto been to conclude all domestic dissensions within the limits of Italy. The resistance, however, of Grimwald was obstinate, and often successful. Educated for some time under the eye of Charlemagne, his military talents had received a high degree of cultivation, while his bold and active disposition rendered him a dangerous rival for the young King of Italy. The war was thus protracted tor many years; and the rapidity of the Beneventine prince often obtained for him considerable advantages over the superior strength of his adversary. These advantages he never used to a base or unworthy purpose; and though he resisted firmly the exactions of his benefactor's son,—exactions which, we have some reason to imagine, were severe in themselves, and haughtily supported,— yet, in military skill and generosity of demeanour, Grimwald approved himself a worthy follower of Charlemagne.

The greatest success he obtained during the whole course of his struggles against Pepin took place in 802, shortly after the emperor's last visit to Italy. Winegisus, Duke of Spoleto, who seems to have been intrusted by Pepin, at that period, with the chief commiand against the Beneventines, having captured and taken possession of Lucera, suddenly found himself invested in that city by the forces of Grimwald. Already weakened by disease, the Frankish commander was not equal to the task of resisting the young and active Beneventine; and after a brief but severe siege the town surrendered, and Winegisus fell into the hands of the enemy.

The fate awaiting a prisoner was in those days a very uncertain matter; but the conduct of Grimwald to his fallen adversary was such as might have been expected from a prince who had followed for a length of time the camp of Charlemagne. The Duke of Spoleto was received with kindness; and, after having been entertained with honor during the winter, was set at liberty by his conqueror early in the following year. Very little of any interest or importance occurred afterward in the war of Beneventum. The resistance of Grimwald and the demands of Pepin still continued, till, in the year 806, the death of the Lombard prince made a change in the government of the province; and, shortly after, the Beneventines agreed to pay an annual tribute of twenty-five thousand solidi of gold, which put a termination to the war.

The prolongation of this struggle, however, weakened the forces of the young King of Italy by division, and prevented him from accomplishing many things which were necessary to the consolidation of the dominions intrusted to him by his father. On a minor scale, his contest with surrounding enemies resembled that which had occupied the whole life of the great monarch himself; and, continually opposed by the Venetians and the Beneventines in Italy, as well as frequently assailed by the Moors and by the Greeks from without, he showed courage, firmness, and activity, which justified the blood of Charlemagne.

Corsica, which had been bestowed by the emperor on the holy see, Pepin defended vigorously from the attacks of the Saracens; and, taught by his father's exertions on the coasts of France and Germany, he collected a navy round the Italian shores, which, under the command of the Constable Burchard, signally defeated the Moorish fleet in the Mediterranean.

Thus far the wars of Pepin were, in a manner, distinct and separate from the general progress of the empire of Charlemagne, and might properly be noticed apart; but the strife which took place between the young monarch and the Venetian republic, of which I shall soon have to speak more fully, is intimately connected with the revival of the Western empire, in the person of his father.

As king of Lombardy and patrician of Rome, the Frankish monarch had claimed all that portion of Italy which had been comprised in the dominion of the Lombard kings and the exarchs of Ravenna; but, as the emperor of the Romans, his wishes or his rights might extend his title to the whole of Italy, and comprehend, beyond the absolute limits of the peninsula, Sicily on the one side, with Croatia, Liburnia, and Dalmatia on the other.

NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE EAST

But in assuming the title of emperor, Charlemagne had little desire to plunge himself in new wars; and if he ever did entertain the idea of invading Sicily, as Theophanes declares, he soon abandoned a project which, however successful, must have required blood, trouble, and fatigue, at a moment when his time and his forces were already fully employed.

An easy mode of reconciling the jarring interests of the East and the West was suggested to Charlemagne, either by his own political foresight, or by the officious zeal of the Roman pontiff. The ruler of the Eastern empire, and the actual possessor of the disputed territories, was a woman, and a widow. Charlemagne himself, by the death of Luidgarde, had been left free to contract a new alliance; and the extinction of opposing claims, by the union of the opposite claimants, was soon agitated in the councils of the emperor. That the mutilator of her own son might, on occasion, easily become the assassin of her husband, was a consideration which did not deter Charlemagne from the proposed alliance; and the fact of his having demanded tha hand of Irene in marriage, is perhaps the strongest instance on record of the personal courage for which he was famous.

Either before, or immediately after, his departure from Italy, messengers were sent to the courtf of Constantinople from Charlemagne, accompanied by legates from the pope, both charged with the formsal annunciation of the revival of the Western empire, and with the more delicate commission of negotiating the union of the emperor and empress. The proposal was by no means disagreeable to Irene, who saw before her the prospect of terminating easily, by some method, those difficulties to which the occupation of the Western throne had given rise. It is not improbable, indeed, that she looked upon this alliance, also, as a means of gratifying, not only her vanity, but also her revenge upon those who had assailed or injured her. The power of the East, strengthened by the power of the West, might have conquered or overawed a world; and the young blood of the adolescent Franks, transfused into the veins of the ancient empire, might have given new vigor to the feeble frame of that decrepit monarchy, and raised it up once more to glory and to triumph. But whatever were the considerations which led the empress to desire the alliance proposed,—passion, vanity, policy, or ambition,—her inclinations were controlled by a domestic faction; and the eunuch Aetiaus, who had been raised by her to the highest stations of the empire, dared to oppose the will of his mistress. Supported by others equally indebted and ungrateful with himself, he compelled her to reject the hand of the monarch of the Franks, in the hopes of raising his brother to the imperial dignity, from which he was himself excluded by corporeal disabilities. The rejection, however, was accompanied by pacific proposals; and, in 802, an embassy reached the court of Charlemagne,—who had by this time returned to France,—in order to treat for a definitive arrangement of the claims of the two empires, and to determine the articles of a future peace.

Where such immense interests and extensive territories were involved, the negotiation, of course, offered many difficulties. However powerless might be Irene to enforce her claims, however moderate might be Charlemagne in his exactions, there were points to be considered, and obstacles to be removed, which required many conferences; and more than one doubt might naturally arise, which could only be solved by the court of Constantinople. Desirous that the transaction might be concluded with as much facility and speed as possible, the emperor committed the ultimate terms to which he would consent to Jesse, Bishop of Amiens, and Helingaud, one of the counts of his palace, who accompanied Leo, the ambassador of Irene, on his return to Constantinople.

On their arrival in that city, the negotiations were renewed; but, while still unconcluded, a revolution at the imperial court suddenly interrupted their progress. "The great treasurer Nicepnorus was secretly invested with the purple, Irene's successor was introduced into the palace, and crowned at St. Sophia by the venal patriarch. In their first interview, she recapitulated with dignity the revolutions of her life, gently accused the perfidy of Nicephorus, insinuated that he owed his life to her unsuspecting clemency; and, for the throne and treasures which she resigned, solicited a decent and honorable retreat. His avarice refused this modest compensation; and, in her exile of the Isle of Lesbos, the empress earned a scanty subsistence by the labours of herdistaff".

In the midst of the confusion of a sudden change in the dynasty, it is not improbable that the ambassadors of the Emperor of the West were insulted by the populace of the Grecian capital. But no sooner was Nicephorus firmly seated on the throne which he had usurped from the usurper, than he hastened to conclude the peace which Irene had begun, and to send back with the Franks envoys on his own part to receive the ratification of the treaty from the hands of Charlemagne. The Greek ambassadors reached the monarch at Seltz; and the object of their coming was obtained without difilculty. The election of Charlemagne was recognized by the Emperor of the East; and his possession of Istria, Croatia, Liburnia, and Dalmatia was confirmed, as well as his title to Sardinia, Corsica, and Italy, as far as the limits of the inferior Calabria. Sicily and Naples remained in the hands of the Greeks; but the territories of Venice, it would appear, were left unmentioned in the document of partition.

THE REPUBLIC OF VENICE

Surrounded on every side by dominions possessed by Charlemagne, and forming an integral part of that territory which was now distinctly allotted to him, it is difficult to understand how the Venetians could wish or hope to remain attached to the Greek empire. Perhaps it might be the expectation of establishing their own independence, between the contending claims of the rival monarchs, which induced that peoplle to waver between both; or perhaps it might merely be the vacillation of those factions which always arise in republics, that alternately gave preponderance to the influence of France or Constantinople. Whatever was the origin of the disputes, that followed, the minor facts are remote and obscure; and even the general question has been clouded by the national prejudices of critics and historians. That Charlemagne considered the Venetians as his subjects is evident; but it would seem that a strong party in Venice opposed that distribution of power which conveyed the soveregnty of their state to the monarch of the Franks. The chief of this faction was John, the doge, or duke, of the republic; but, at that period, the power of the chief magistrate was controlled or corrected by the authority of tribunes; and on the first manifestation of the leaning of the doge to Constantinople, in the appointment of a Greek to the bishopric of Olivola, one of the Venetian islands, his views were thwarted by the tribunes, who, heading the Frankish faction, prevailed on the patriarch of Grado to refuse consecration to the prelate-elect. The revenge of the duke, which could not overtake the tribunes, fell somewhat barbarously on the unhappy patriarch. In concert with his son, whom he had associated with himself in office, the Venetian chief led the fleet of the republic against Grado, captured the city, and precipitated the pontiff from the highest tower.

This criminal action instantly raised the voice of the whole Christian world against the perpetrators; and Paulinus, patriarch of Friuli, addressed an epistle to Charlemagne, demanding justice upon the duke, at the hand of his sovereign. At the same time, Fortunatus, said to be the nephew of the murdered prelate, sought refuge at the court of the Frankish monarch, and besought his aid against the assassins of his uncle.

What were the proceeding which took place upon this application is a question of much doubt; but the result is known. John and his son Maurice were deposed and banished; and the tribunes Obelerio and Beatus were raised to the ducal dignity together. The power of France was now for some time preponderant; and the sovereignty of the Emperor of the West appears to have been acknowledged by the voice of the friendly magistrates. At his desire, they visited his court and received his commands; and every thing promised the tranquillity of the Venetian state, and the permanence of Charlemagne's authority.

SIGIFRED THE DANE

The power of the monarch, however, was menaced from another quarter. Sigifrid, King of the Danes, or Normans, was now dead, and in his place had arisen one, whose powerful and comprehensive mind would in all probability have united the fierce nations of the north, and led them to sweep and desolate the south of Europe, had not Saxony been previously subdued. The junction of the Normans with the Saxons, inevitable if the latter had continued in their state of barbarism, would have created a force which Charlemagne himself could hardly have opposed. But at present, the German nations, if not so far civilized yet as to furnish a strong barrier against the Danish king, were so far subdued as to afford him no support, and Charlemagne had to contend with him only on his northern frontier. The first efforts of the French monarch were for peace; and it would appear that several years passed before the mind of Godfrey the Dane so completely lost the impression of the emperor's victories over the Saxons, as to dream of following the example of their incursions upon the Frankish territory. In the year 804, this impression was evidently but deeply fixed, although many bodies of his piratical subjects had ravaged the coast of France. In the great deportation of the Saxons which took place in that year, it would appear that some of the leaders had made their escape to Denmark, and the emperor immediately sent messengers to require that they should be given up. The Danish king neither absolutely conceded nor rejected the demand, but promised to come down to the frontiers of his own country, and confer with the Frankish monarch on a permanent treaty of peace between the two nations.

Charlemagne remained at Holdenstein, near the Elbe, in expectation of his arrival, and Godfrey advanced, with a fleet and army, as far as Schleswick, in South Jutland. There, however, the remonstrances of his court on the danger to which, it was supposed, he would expose himself if he proceeded any farther, succeeded in inspiring him with fears and doubts of the French monarch; and, pausing in his advance, he terminated the negotiations by acceding to the demands of the emperor through the intervention of ambassadors.

That these demands were conceived in the same spirit of moderation which was apparent in all the other actions of the Frankish monarch there can be no doubt; and indeed it would appear, that as years increased upon the head of Charlemagne he naturally became more desirous of that peace and quiet of which he had known so little during the course of a long life. The aspirations of ambition were gratified to the full; the impatient energy of youth had passed away; the vigor of manhood, though not lost, was easily governed; and that weariness of exertion, and desire of rest— which at the end of a short day may be relieved by a brief repose, but which towards the close of a long existence demands permanent tranquility—began to fall upon the hitherto indefatigable monarch of the Franks.

By unequalled efforts against a thousand enemies, he had now nearly conquered peace, and he sought to enjoy it; but, nevertheless, no desire of ease could prevent him from affording aid to such of his allies or dependants as required the support of military intervention. From the Elbe and the Danube to the Vistula and the Baltic extends a tract of country which was then occupied by various Slavonian tribes, some of which were strongly and permanently attached to the Frankish monarch; while others, retaining all the wild ferocity of their original state, willingly seized every opportunity of attacking whatever country acknowledged the dominion of a more civilized power. Among the latter were the Bohemians, who, lying on the frontiers of Panonia and Hungary, took continual advantage of the depressed state to which long wars against the superior power of Charlemagne had reduced the Avars, and, by incessant and desolating incursions, gave that unhappy nation no time to recover vigor or to enjoy repose. The greater part of the people of Hungary had by this time embraced the Christian religion; and their monarch Theodore at length, in 805, undertook a journey to the court of Charlemagne, to beg that his nation might be allowed to abandon the country which they then held, and seek another less exposed to the attacks of the Bohemians.

The French monarch granted his request at once, and, with generous kindness, did all that he could to alleviate the sorrows of the Hunnish chief. Theodore, however, died soon after his return to Panonia, and a new chagan being elected by the Avars, the consent of Charlemagne was solicited to his nomination. This was not only immediately given, but, before permitting the Hunnish tribes to execute their purpose of emigration, the emperor commanded his eldest son Charles to lead an army into Bohemia, and endeavor by chastisement to restrain the Slavonians within their own bounds.

The will of the monarch was instantly accomplished by his son, who seems to have possessed much of his father's military talents and rapid activity. Before the year was concluded, the Frankish forces had been lead into Bohemia; a battle had been fought and won; Lecho, the Bohemian duke, had been slain,—it is said, by the hand of Charles himself; and the prince, leading back his victorious troops, met his two brothers Louis and Pepin at the palace of the emperor near Thionviile.

CHARTER OF TERRITORIAL DIVISION

The union of his children around the emperor's person was not without an object. Already considerably past the age which his father and his grand-father had attained, Charlemagne, notwithstanding the great degree of corporeal vigor that he still enjoyed, and the robust constitution which promised many years of health, determined to prepare against the approach of death, and to provide, as much as human foresight could, against those dissensions among his children which had caused the difficulties and cares of his own early reign, which might destroy the empire he had acquired, and sweep away the institutions he had founded.

He accordingly determined to remove all future cause of dispute, by himself allotting, among his sons, the territories which they were to possess at his death, and by gaining the solemn and irrevocable consent, both of his people and his children, to the charter of division he was about to trace out. The character of Charlemagne has been assailed by some, his virtues depreciated, his motives misconstrued, his actions misstated, and his laws reproached; but the enthusiasm of his people when danger menaced his person, their devoted zeal in seconding all his efforts, and the boundless confidence with which they adopted all his views, have left a glorious testimony in favor of his wisdom and his virtue deep written on the page of history, which neither malignity can efface nor hypothesis obscure. His children at once gave their consent to that distribution of his dominions which he thought fit to provide against the period of his death, and the general assembly of the nation sanctioned it without hesitation. The princes and the nobles swore to observe the partition; and a copy of the document was transmitted to the head of the Christian church, that the authenticity of the deed might be preserved undoubted, by a transcript, attested by the supreme pontiff himself, remaining in the archives of the church.

The division of the empire among the children of the monarch had been a principle admitted with the Franks from the earhest ages, although the equality of partition, and even the admission of all the heirs, had by no means been strictly enforced. If ever extent of dominion could render such a division necessary, it was in the case of the territory agglomerated by Charlemagne, which, in addition to the difficulty of consolidation, implied by extreme bulk, presented other inconveniences of a more insurmountable nature, from the composition of its various parts. The acquisitions of ancient Rome had been gradual, and in comparison slow. Step by step each province had in general been fully incorporated with the empire before other conquests were achieved; and but a small district added to the dominions of Rome was enough for the glory and triumph of a life. But, warring upon every frontier at once, Charlemagne had added to his native kingdom, in the short space of one man's existence, as much as would have cost two centuries of Roman conquest to acquire. No time had been given to blend the separate nations into one; they remained still discrepant, inharmonious, and requiring the same great mind which had conquered and united them to hold them in subjection and assimilate them together.

Such considerations may have been among the motives which combined to reconcile Charlemagne to the division of the empire; but probably the most powerful of all was the fact of its beings the custom, if not the law, of his nation. A sound and judicious policy might, and probably would, have induced the monarch to abrogate that law if his dominions had been small; but the extent of territory to be divided took from the custom its strongest objection, and in the act of partition itself we have a singular instance of the deference of the monarch to the privileges and institutions of hia country.

We have already seen several examples of the strong influence attributed to the popular voice in the election, or rather succession, of the Frankish monarchs. Eginhard states that the Franks were accustomed to choose their kings from the Merovingian race; and the supreme pontiff, in crowning Pepin, threatens with the thunders of the church such persons as should attempt to elect a monarch from any other family than the Carolingian. Charlemagne, more expressly still, points at the same active power in the people, and declares by his will, that if any of the three kings among whom he divides the realm shall in dying leave a son, and his people choose to elect that son in the place of his father, that portion of the empire shall descend to him, without claim or molestation on the part of his uncles.

The further dispositions of the monarch are directed to keep peace and amity among his children, and so to provide for all cases, that no disputes may arise, either between the monarchs themselves in regard to the territories allotted to each, or between them and their people in regard to the jurisdiction under which each individual subject is placed. Even while dividing his dominions, Charlemagne also strongly enjoins that mutual support and co-operation which would give to the several kingdoms the same strength as if still united in one empire; and he points out the path by which each prince may lead his armies to the support of his brothers. No precaution is wanting on the part of the monarch to secure the future concord of his sons; and, under the warrant of the oath which they mutually took to obey his will, he commands them, in case of any dispute in regard to their territories, to abstain from arms, and to have recourse to the judgment of the cross,—a judgment which, like every other sort of ordeal, supposed the active interposition of God to establish an earthly right. Even had this injunction not referred to one of the firm-rooted superstitions of the day, the command of Charlemagne would have still been wise, as, by subjecting every matter of doubt to a certain and indisputable method of decision, it guarded against the most remote chance of those bloody contentions which had desolated the realm under the Merovingian kings. Had he directed them to draw lots, the same purpose would have been answered; but, in the mode of judgment to which he now commanded them to apply, the religious feelings of the people, and even of the princes themselves, operated in support of the award.

Such was the charter of division conceived by Charlemagne; and certainly the clearness of his judgment and the benignity of his heart were never more fully displayed than in that document. It was destined, it is true, to have no effect; but it remains a striking proof of the power which a great mind has to employ the very prejudices and superstitions of his age for the best and noblest of purposes.

END OF ALL THE WARS OF CHARLEMAGNE

Soon after the deed had been received and ratified by all whose interests were implicated, the three princes quitted the court of their father, and betook themselves to the several occupations which had been assigned to them. Charles, the eldest, once more turned his steps towards the north, where the Bohemians, having been joined by another predatory tribe of Slavonians, were ravaging with fire and sword the frontiers of Bavaria and Hungary. The measures taken against them, however, were prompt and effectual. Charles himself led one body of troops against the Slavonians on the banks of the Sale and the Elbe, defeated them completely, slew their chief in battle, and, after guarding the frontier by the construction of two fortresses, returned to join his father on the banks of the Meuse. At the same time, a triple army from Germany, Bavaria, and Hungary entered the country of the Bohemians, and by laying waste the border territory, punished their aggression on the Hungarian provinces, and put a stop to their future incursions.

This campaign terminated the Bohemian war, and left the frontiers of Bavaria and Panonia in security and peace. But Charlemagne was still destined to encounter hostilities on the northern verge of his territories, where Godfrey King of Denmark was daily increasing in power and in confidence. The peace which had been concluded with him, soon shared the fate of all treaties entered into with barbarous nations, and was broken as soon as the Northman king found it convenient to ravage the coast of France and Germany. He still covered his breach of faith with some degree of decency; and a renewal of individual acts of piracy on the shores of Charlemagne's dominions first announced the frail nature of the Dane's engagements. The next mark of hostility, though more glaring, was not directed against the emperor personally, but took the shape of an incursion into the territories of the Abodrites, those faithful allies on whose vigilance and courage Charlemagne greatly depended for the security of Saxony. The northern chief did not undertake this enterprise, however, without the certainty of some support; and, in the Welatabes, the Winidi, and the Smaldingi, a congregation of wild Slavonic tribes inhabiting the country between the Oder and the Vistula, and covering the whole of modem Pomerania, he found willing allies against their more civilized neighbors. To these were added the Linones, on the southern bank of the Oder; and instead of passing at once from Denmark by land into the territory of the Abodrites, which was probably guarded on that frontier from the anticipation of hostilities, he transported his troops into Wenedonia, or Pomerania, and thence marched upon that point of the destined territory where his prey was least prepared to oppose him.

The excursion of Godfrey was rapid and terrible. Attacked by so many of the Slavonian tribes, as well as the Danes, the unfortunate Abodrites were conquered before any assistance could reach them; and when Charles, dispatched by his father to their aid, arrived with his army on the banks of the Elbe, he found that their duke, Thrasicon, had been expelled from his country, and that the whole land had been pillaged and subdued. This, it is true, was not effected by the Danes without great loss on their own part. The nephew of the king himself fell in battle—the best of their army perished; and, in no condition to resist the force they knew to be advancing against them from France, they once more retired into Pomerania, took ship, and set sail for Denmark. Apparently fearful of pursuit by sea the Danish monarch, before his departure, destroyed the port from which he embarked, and carried away the merchants into Denmark. Charles did not reach the scene of action till the Danes were gone; and no trace of them was left but in their ravages. The tribes who had aided them in their expedition, however, still remained; and throwing a bridge over the Elbe, the Franks poured into the territory of the inimical Slavonians, and took severe vengeance for the injuries inflicted on the Abodrites.

In the mean time, Godfrey, warned of the proximity of the Frankish army, and remembering the bitter and never-failing punishment which had overtaken the similar irruptions of the Saxons, hastened to add to the means of defence which his country already possessed. The narrow neck of land between the duchy of Holstein and the province of South Jutland offered every facility for the formation of such a fortified boundary as he proposed to construct. His arrival at the port of Schleswick brought him on the very spot suitable to his purpose; and he instantly began the erection of a defensible wall, running across the isthmus, from the estuary on which that town is situated to the mouth of the Eyder and the German ocean.

While this great work was in progress, the Danish monarch found it necessary to temporize with the emperor; and accordingly, sent ambassadors to the court of France, in order to justify his aggression on the allies of the Franks; and to demand a congress of deputies from both nations, in order to consider and determine all matters in dispute. This was immediately granted; but the negotiations produced no effect; and the Danish king prepared to renew the war against the Franks themselves.

The multitude of his Slavonian allies rendered the power of Godfrey formidable even to Charlemagne; and, had the Saxons been still inclined, even in their state of depression, to join with the Normans, the whole of Europe, as I have before observed, would most probably have been once more plunged in blood and darkness. But the Saxons, now beginning to appreciate the benefits of civilization, were the first to aid in repelling the advances of their barbarous neighbors. Thrasicon, Duke of the Abodrites, was soon restored to his country; and, being supported by a large Saxon force, while the Danish king swept over the seas and made a terrible descent upon the German coast, he entered the territories of that monarch's Sclavonian allies, and with fire and sword retaliated the injuries they had inflicted on his nation.

The Frisons, also, so long the implacable enemies of the Franks, were now the first safeguards of their shores. Though, after three rapid and bloody combats with the Danes upon the German coast, they were at length obliged to buy the invaders' absence with a hundred pounds of silyer, yet the smallness of the sum demanded by Grodfrey, and the speed of his retreat, evinces how steady had been the resistance of the Frisons, and how dearly purchased had been the victory he gained.

His landing, however, and his persevering contest with the inhabitants of the coast, had spread consternation into the heart of France. He had been heard boldly to declare, that he would carry his arms to Aix-la-Chapelle; and that he would make the attempt, was universally believed. But, though now in his seventieth year, Charlemagne forgot the load of age, started from the repose in which he had indulged, and once more hastened to the field. No mark of time's enfeebling power was to be found in the movements of the great monarch; and all the active energy of his brightest days reappeared on the approach of danger. Messengers were sent in every direction to gather together his troops; and, while land forces were assembling, he hastened, without loss of a moment, to inspect in person the state of the fleet in the mouth of the Rhine, and prepared to contend with the Norman on his own element. No sooner were his commands given, and the means of war in readiness in that direction, than, forgetful of all personal fatigue, the emperor hastened back to the head of his army; crossed the Rhine at Lippenheim; and, after forming his junction with other forces, which were marching up to support him, advanced as far as the confluence of the Aller and the Weiser, in order to give battle to the Danes.

At that spot, news of a varied complexion reached him, which rendered his further march unnecessary. Thrasicon, Duke of the Abodrites, while pursuing hit success against the Slavonians, had been assassinated by emissaries of the Danish king. But, at the same time, Godfrey himself had quitted in haste the shores of the Frisons, in order to return to Denmark, and the tidings almost immediately followed of his own death, by the same treacherous steel he had used against others. He had been slain by one of his followers,—whether instigated by personal revenge or kindred ambition, does not appear. A more pacific sovereign, however, succeeded. A truce was concluded between the Danes and Franks; a congress was held; and with little difficulty a peace was agreed upon, which terminated the Norman war during the life of Charlemagne.

In the northern campaigns, the principal active agent on the part of Charlemagne, had been Charles, his eldest son; but, in the south, Pepin, King of Italy, had been in no degree unoccupied since the partition charter, for the purpose of acknowledging which he had been called to France. Scarcely had he returned to Italy, when he found that Nicephorus, now firmly seated on the throne of Constantinople, began to regret the concessions which he had made in the first dangers of usurpation, and to seek the recovery of those territories, which he had too hastily suffered to be alienated from the Greek empire. His first efforts were directed against Dalmatia, the seaports of which, commanding the whole commerce of the Adriatic, were of infinite importance to the Greeks. In the year 806, we accordingly find the patrician Nicetas, accompanied by a large fleet, sailing with the express purpose of recovering Dalmatia. It would appear, that his expedition ended without any great military effort; and, probably, the success of the Frankish armaments against the Moors, who were about the same time signally defeated on the coast of Corsica, determined the Greek commander to bring the incipient war to a speedy termination.

He accordingly hastened to conclude a fresh treaty of peace with the young King of Italy; and withdrew his fleet from their station in the Adriatic. It appears not unlikely, indeed, that at this time, by the commands of his father, Pepin yielded to the Greeks the sovereignty of the Dalmatian ports, while the rest of that province was reserved to the Frainks. That such a transaction ultimately took place we know from the account of Eginhard; but the period is left in doubt.

The state of Venice also, about this time, is very obscure. The very same year in which we find the duke, or doge, and his coadjutor at the court of Charlemagne, submitting to his will as to that of their sovereign, we are told that Nicetas, coming avowedly with hostile intentions towards the dominions of the Western emperor, remained with tranquil security in the Venetian ports. Nevertheless, through all the contradictory events which now took place in regard to Venice, the effort is still apparent, of a weak state struggling to gain independence among the contending claims of two more powerful countries; and possibly it was a part of the policy of the Venetians to cast as much obscurity as possible on the degree of submission they were forced to yield to either empire.

The peace concluded between Pepin and Nicetas was not of long continuance; for either the emperor Nicephorus was dissatisfied with the terms granted and hoped, by a renewal of warfare, to obtain more, or some new cause of hostility immediately arose. The patrician withdrew his fleet from Venice in August of the year 807; and before the winter of the following year, another Greek armament appeared in the Adriatic. The commander Paul, prefect of Cephalonia, was still charged to negotiate with the King of Italy; but he seems to have imagined that some military success would prove a good prelude to the demands he might be instructed to make; and, accordingly, he landed a part of his forces at Commachio, then garrisoned by the Franks. The Greeks, ever unsuccessful in their contests with the Franks, found fortune still unfavorable to their efforts; and, after suffering a shameful defeat at Commachio, they made all sail for the port of Venice.

Peace was here once more proposed; and it appears that both Pepin and the Greek commander were desirous of obtaining it but such a consummation did not accord with the policy of the Venetians; and they contrived to break off the negotiations before they were half-concluded. Their treachery, however, was not long in reaching the ears of Pepin; and probably this instance of duplicity opened his eyes to much more of the same double and perfidious policy. An injury is always a thousand-fold aggravated when united to the insult of deceit; and the King of Italy, with natural indignation, proceeded to take vengeance on the Venetians. Their territories were immediately attacked both by land and sea; but the degree of success which attended the arms of Pepin has been for years a matter of national dispute. That he was successful to a certain point is proved by the French, and admitted by the Venetians; but in determining the extent of his conquest, if we suppose it a little more than Venice will allow, and a little less than France exacts, we shall probably be very nearly correct. That he subdued all their continental possessions is clear; for from that day the Venetians paid some kind of tribute for their lands on terra firma. But it would appear, that though he conquered most of the islands which composed the Venetian state, he was repulsed from Rialto, not so much by the courage of the inhabitants, as through the difficulty of access, and the unwieldly nature of the vessels he employed. Probably the sight of his partial success, and the menace of pursuing his advantage, induced the Venetian government to submit, when they found that easy terms would be imposed, in return for the doubtful conquest.

Pepin willingly desisted from an enterprise which had offered many difficulties, and despatched the fleet, for which he had no longer any occupation at Venice, to ravage the coasts of Dalmatia, which had been resign to the ungrateful Greeks. The appearance, however, of the patrician Paul, with a superior force, obliged the Frankish armament to retire; and not long after, the Venetian states were formally ceded by Charlemagne to the desires of the Eastern emperor.

Such was the end of the struggles which the empire of the East made to recover from Charlemagne some portion of that territory which Nicephorus, in the lavish timidity of unconfirmed authority, had deemed a trifling sacrifice for the enjoyment of unmolested dominion. As he grew old in empire, his native covetousness resumed its power over his mind; but before he could proceed to exact more from the generous moderation of the Frankish monarch, the steel of the Bulgarians had terminated the life of the avaricious usurper. Stauracius, who succeeded, devoted his short reign of six months to render himself hated and contemned at home; and Michael I, who followed Stauracius, was too eager to seek the friendship of Charlemagne, either to impugn his title to empire, or to strive for the dismemberment of his dominions.

DEATH OF THE CHILDREN OF CHARLEMAGNE

Those dominions were now as extensive as the proudest ambition could well desire to possess, or the mightiest genius could pretend to govern. The whole of France and Belgium, with their natural boundaries of the Alps, the Pyrenees, the ocean, the Mediterranean, and the Rhine, formed no inconsiderable empire. But to these possessions were added, to the south, all that part of Spain comprised between the Ebro and the Pyrenees, and to the north, the whole of Germany, to the banks of the Elbe. Italy, as far as the Lower Calabria, was either governed by his son or tributary to his crown; and Dalmatia, Croatia, Liburnia, and Istria, with the exception of the maritime cities, were joined to the conquered territories of Hungary and Bohemia. As far as the conflux of the Danube with the Teyss and the Save, the east of Europe acknowledged the power of the Frankish monarch. Most of the Slavonian tribes, between the Elbe and the Vistula, paid tribute and professed obedience; and Corsica, Sardinia, and the Balearic Isles were dependent on the emperor's possessions in Italy and Spain.

Such were the dominions of Charlemagne at the conclusion of the Venetian war in 810; and such were the dominions which he proposed to leave divided among his sons. The fatigue and difficulty which he felt in governing and restraining this vast empire himself doubtless rendered him the more willing to see it parted among his children, whose powers of command he could not but perceive were far inferior to his own. Yet probably paternal tenderness and affectionate equity might combine with his other motives for the equal allotment of his territories; as we know that a private station, where all the softer sympathies of domestic life are fostered by every means of reciprocation, never produced a tenderer parent than the monarch of that mighty empire.

This division, as I have already stated, was destined never to take place. That prolongation of existence, to which human nature clings with so much fond tenacity, brought with it to Charlemagne many of those concomitant sorrows attendant ever on old age. He saw his friends and his children die around him. The companions of his dangers and his glory, the participators of his labors and their success, in general sank into the grave, ere the great spirit which had called forth, directed, and combined their efforts was separated from its human dust. Alcuin had died some time before; but the severer stroke still awaited Charlemagne of seeing the order of nature reversed, and the children of his love fall before the parent who had given them birth.

His first loss was that of his eldest daughter Rotruda; and though the irregular conduct of the female part of his family had caused him frequent pain and continual anxiety, he felt her early fate with all the poignancy of a father's grief, and forgot her weakness in her death. Scarcely had the news of his son's victories over the Venetians reached the ears of the emperor, when it was followed by the tidings of his decease; and scarcely had the monarch secured to the son of Pepin the kingdom which he had formerly assigned to the father, ere Charles, for whom the imperial throne had been reserved, was also called to the tomb. Honor, and glory, and strife, and labor, and victory, and success, had not been able to extinguish one spark of those warm affections with which Charlemagne had been endowed by nature; nor had a long life of prosperity, dominion, and absolute command been sufficient to weaken one of those gentler feelings, which united the great monarch so endearingly with his fellow- creatures. Charlemagne wept the loss of his children, and the broken ties of kindred affection, with as bitter, as human a sorrow as if he had been the tenant of a cottage, instead of being the emperor of one-half the world; nor can his preservation of domestic attachments surely be looked upon as a weakness when they interfered with no public duty, and served only to soften his private character.

Of the emperor's three sons, none now remained but Louis, King of Aquitaine, and in him centred all the affection of the monarch. After the death of his brothers, a feeling of diffidence and modesty withheld him for some time from his father's court, lest he should appear too eagerly to covet the dominion which, in the course of nature, would soon fall into his hands. But Charlemagne was incapable of being jealous of his son; and, as soon as he had terminated the various negotiations which the loss of Pepin and Charles left entirely to his own exertions, he despatched messengers into Aquitaine to call Louis to is presence.

Although the death of his two elder sons had abrogated the charter of division, and though the emperor had provided for Bernard the son of Pepin, by confirming him in the government of Italy, so that the succession of Louis to the imperial throne, with all the territories attached to it in France and Germany, was not to be doubted, yet Charlemagne resolved, by a solemn act of association, to secure the empire more firmly to his surviving son, and to guard against the intrigues of faction and the efforts of ambition.

As soon after the arrival of Louis as possible, the emperor called the general assembly of his people to meet at Aix-la-Chapelle; and there, in an eloquent speech, he alluded to the probability of his own death before many years could pass, and exhorted the nation to be faithful and obedient to his successor, as they had been to himself. He then demanded the consent of each individual present to the nomination of Louis as heir to his empire, and required the promise of their allegiance to that prince. The assent of the nobles was unanimous; and on the Sunday that followed, the emperor marked, with solemn ceremony, the ratification of his own purpose by the voice of his subjects.

The immense church which he himself had built at Aix-la-Chapelle was prepared for the occasion, and, a little before the morning service began, the monarch proceeded to that building, which was already filled with the nobles of all the different nations he united under his sway. His usual simple garments were laid aside, and, robed with imperial splendor, and surrounded bv imperial pomp, he advanced to the high altar of the church, leaning on the shoulder of the King of Aquitaine. The father and the son knelt together, and continued for some time in prayer, beseeching the blessing of Heaven upon their designs. At length the emperor rose, and addressed his son in the presence of the whole multitude. He exhorted him, above all things, to fear and love God, and to follow his law; to govern carefully the church, and to protect it against its enemies; to show kindness and endurance towards all his relations; to honor the clergy as fathers, and to love the people as his children; to force the proud and corrupt to turn to a better path; and to be himself the friend of the faithful and the poor. He prayed him also to choose his ministers from those who were known to be trustworthy, filled with the fear of God, and the enemies of unjust partiality; to deprive no man of his property without full cause; and to keep himself irreproachable in the sight of God and of his people.

After having addressed him for a length of time with great power and eloquence, he demanded if he were willing to follow those precepts for the government of his people; and on Louis's reply in the affirmative, he directed him to raise, with his own hands, a crown which had been laid purposely on the altar, and place it on his own head, as "a gift which he held from God, his father, and the nation". Louis complied, and the ceremony ended with the usual solemn service of the day.

DEATH OF CHARLEMAGNE

Not long after this event the King of Aquitaine returned to his government, and Charlemagne, embarrassed by no hostile movements, except some slight disturbances among the Slavonian tribes, dedicated the rest of his days to the general organization of his dominions, and to preparation for that interminable future towards whose awful barrier he was fast approaching. His external relations I have already traced; and the internal regulations attributable to this period of his reign afford no cause to alter the opinion before expressed, that if they were not the best which could be formed on abstract principles, they were the best that could be adapted to the circumstances of his age and nation.

Notwithstanding the weight of seventy years, the Latin emperor had yet lost but little of his personal energy; and the reconstruction of the ancient light-house near Boulogne, the long and fatiguing journeys he took to inspect the state of the fleets destined to protect the coast, and the design of a that bridge at Mayence, which he proposed to build in stone, after the destruction of the former wooden structure by fire, evince the incessant activity of his mind, and its fertility in projects for the protection and improvement of his dominions.

Notwithstanding frequent attacks of the gout, and a degree of lameness which that disease had left, he still followed the chase, in which he had always delighted, with unabated ardor, and still enjoyed the bath, wherein he had so long been accustomed to exercise himself in swimming. It was one day after he had been using the thermal waters of Aix-la-Chapelle, that he felt the first attack of that malady which terminated his life. He was suddenly seized with a violent pain in the side, which was soon proved to proceed from pleurisy. In common with all men who during a long life have possessed robust health, Charlemagne despised and rejected the aid of medicine, and, imagining that abstinence was the sole remedy for all sorts of sickness, he refused food of every kind, and only allayed his feverish thirst with small quantities of water. The violence of his disease required more active means of cure; these were not employed, and at length, after a few days' illness, on the 28th of January, in the year 814, Charles the Great expired, in the seventy-second year of his age, and the forty-seventh of his reign.

The character of Charlemagne can alone be appreciated by comparing it with the barbarism of the times from which he emerged; nor do his virtues or his talents acquire any fictitious grandeur from oppo-sition with the objects around; for, though "the ruins of Palmyra derive a casual splendor from the nakedness of the surrounding desert", his excellence lay not alone in adorning, but in cultivating the waste. His military successes were prepared by the wars and victories both of Pepin and Charles Martel; but one proof of the vast comprehensiveness of his mind is to be found in the immense undertakings which he accomplished with the same means which two great monarchs had employed on very inferior enterprises. The dazzling rapidity with which each individual expedition was executed was perhaps less wonderful than the clear precision with which each was designed, and the continuous, persevering, unconquerable determination wherewith each general élan was pursued to its close. The materials for is wars,—the brave, the active, and the hardy soldiers,—had been formed by his father and by nature; but when those troops were to be led through desert and unknown countries, into which Pepin had never dreamed of penetrating, and in an age when geography was hardly known—when they were to be sup- plied at a distance from all their resources, in a land where roads were unheard of, and provisions too scanty for the inhabitants themselves—the success was attributable to Charlemagne, and the honor is his due. His predecessors had contented themselves with leading an army at once against the point they intended to assail, or against the host they proposed to combat; but Charlemagne was the first in modem Europe who introduced the great improvement in the art of war of pouring large bodies of men, by different roads, into the hostile country; of teaching them to co-operate though separate, to concentrate when required, and of combining their efforts and their movements for a general purpose on a preconcerted plan.

In a life like his, which was a life of improvement on all that immediately preceded him, it is wonderful that he did not meet with repeated disappointments and disasters, from the many hazardous experiments he was obliged to make, and from the insecurity attending many of his conquests, on account of the very rapidity with which they were accomplished. This will appear the more extraordinary when it is remembered that, in addition to the fierce savages of the north, he had to contend with the civilized and warlike Saracens, with the veteran Lombards, whose whole history was warfare, and with the cunning Greeks, who supplied by art much that they wanted in vigor. The native energy, activity, and strength of the Franks, indeed, gave him advantages and facilities in all his struggles; but had he not, as a leader and a king, possessed energy, activity, and strength in a far greater proportion than all, the very qualities in his subjects which he used as implements in his own great designs would have been employed by them against himself; and, instead of combating and conquering a thousand foreign enemies at once, he would have had, like many who preceded him, to strive through life with unwilling vassals, for a precarious throne.

War was a necessity of the time and the country; and the Franks could not have been governed without war. Charlemagne, happily for himself and for his people, brought with him to the throne warlike talents, and a warlike disposition; and, happily for the world, possessed likewise the spirit of civilization and improvement.

Notwithstanding one instance of terrible severity,—which, however erroneously, he judged necessary to strike terror into a fierce and lawless people, and to stop the further desolation of both nations,—he was the most clement of kings, and the least selfish of conquerors. After his victories, he imposed a benefit and not a yoke, and raised instead of degraded the people who became his subjects.

His great success in civilization was all his own. Nothing had been done by those who went before, scarcely a germ, scarcely a seed had been left him. He took possession of a kingdom torn by factions, surrounded by enemies, desolated by long wars, disorganized by intestine strife, and as profoundly ignorant as the absence of all letters could make it. By the continual and indefatigable exertion of mental and corporeal powers, such as probably were never united but in himself, he restored order and harmony, brought back internal tranquillity, secured individual safety, raised up sciences and arts; and so convinced a barbarous nation of the excellence of his own ameliorating spirit, that on their consent and approbation he founded all his efforts, and sought no support in his mighty undertaking but the love and confidence of his people.

Of his many conquests, the long and persevering wars which he waged with the barbarians of the north have been, in their success, the most advantageous to Europe; for as civilization advanced step by step with victory, and as he snatched from darkness all the lands he conquered, he may be said to have added the whole of Germany to the world. Italy fell into greater disorders than before; France underwent another age of darkness; but from the Rhine to the Elbe, and from the Danube to the ocean, received light which has continued unextinguished to the present day.

In domestic life, Charlemagne was too indulgent a father, and perhaps too indulgent a husband; and the consequences of this weakness often gave him pain. Nevertheless, the monarch could hardly reproach his daughters for passions which they inherited from himself, nor for yielding to those passions when he set them the example. The private vices or follies of any man can only become legitimate matter for history when they have had an effect upon society in general; but it may be observed, without entering deeply into any unpleasant details, that Charlemagne scarcely could expect the morality he inculcated to be very strictly observed, when his own incontinence was great and notorious.

This, however, is the only vice which history has recorded of Charlemagne, among a thousand splendid qualities. He was ambitious, it is true; but his ambition was of the noblest kind. He was generous, magnanimous, liberal, humane, and brave; but he was frugal, simple, moderate, just, and prudent.Though easily appeased in his enmities, his friendships were deep and permanent; and, though hasty and severe to avenge his friends, he was merciful and placable when personally injured. In mind he was blessed with all those happy facilities which were necessary to success in the great enterprises which he undertook. His eloquence was strong, abundant, and clear; and a great talent for acquinng foreign tongues added to his powers of expression. The same quickness of comprehension rendered every other study light, though undertaken in the midst of a thousand varied occupations, and at an age to which great capabilities of acquisition are not in general extended. His person was handsome and striking. His countenance was fine, open, and bland, his features high, and his eyes large and sparkling. His figure was remarkable for its fine proportions; and though somewhat inclined to obesity in his latter years, we are told, that, whether sitting or standing, there was always something in his appearance which breathed of dignity, and inspired respect. He was sober and abstemious in his food, and simple to an extreme in his garments. Passionately fond of robust exercises, they formed his great relaxation and amusement; but he never neglected the business of the public for his private pleasure, nor yielded one moment to repose or enjoyment which could be more profitably employed. His activity, his quickness, and his indefatigable energy in conducting the affairs of state having already been spoken of at large, it only remains to be said, that in private life he was gentle, cheerful, affectionate, and kind; and that—with his dignity guarded by virtues, talents, and mighty renown—he frequently laid aside the pomp of empire, and the sternness of command.

No man, perhaps, that ever lived, combined in so high a degree those qualities which rule men and direct events, with those which endear the possessor and attach his contemporaries. No man was ever more trusted and loved by his people, more respected and feared by other kings, more esteemed in his lifetime, or more regretted at his death.