Sunday, 29 August 2021

Clovis takes to the stage and the end of Roman Gaul (481 - 486)



As we get to this point in  Adhemar's narrative., we've got to deal with a thorny (though pretty minor to non-specialists in late Roman and Merovingian history) historiographical question, one for which we're not much better informed about than Adhemar and his eleventh century contemporaries were - what was this entity that Aegidius, and his son Syagrius who appears centre stage in this chapter, were in charge of. 

The one thing we can be fairly sure about is that any effective control from the West Roman imperial centre (the imperial court at Ravenna in Italy, that is to say) over Gaul north of the Loire ended in the late 450s. In Aquitaine (the south western third of Gaul between the Loire, Rhone and Pyrenees) Roman rule had already ended, as the Visigoths had established themselves a kingdom based at Toulouse and the local senatorial aristocracy and other provincial Roman elites had agreed to co-operate with them - one of such figures, Sidonius Apollinaris (d.489) recounts in his letters playing backgammon with the Visigothic king Theodoric II (d.466) and tactically losing to win his patronage. But a string of events between 454 and 460 would lead to the one corridor linking northern Gaul to Italy (the modern day French regions of Burgundy, the Rhone-Alpes and Provence) being lost. In September 454 Valentinian III, the incompetent, child-like emperor Western Roman Emperor (a bit like an overgrown Joffrey Baratheon, to give a rough analogy to any Game of Thrones fans among you), had his effective second in command and right hand man, the magister militum (head of the armed forces) Flavius Aetius, who was responsible for cutting short Attila the Hun's invasion of Gaul in 451, murdered in his own presence. Valentinian III was then himself assassinated by a eunuch the following year. At this stage it was pretty clear that the Western Roman empire was going up schitt's creek without a paddle - the Rhineland, Britain, Aquitaine, Africa and Sicily had all either been abandoned or lost for good, the centre was becoming starved of tax revenues to pay the armed forces and the time-honoured ancient Roman political traditions of factionalism, assassination, military coups and usurpation were as alive as ever. The new emperor, Petronius Maximus, dispatched his confidant Avitus in order to establish friendly relations with the Visigoths, knowing that the Western Roman Empire could not militarily defend itself on its own steam. However, the Visigoths proclaimed Avitus emperor and as he returned via Provence the Gallo-Roman senators at Arles proclaimed him as such too. Petronius Maximus meanwhile had been deposed after the Vandal fleet sailed from their newly established kingdom in Africa and sacked Rome. The Burgundians also got behind Avitus, but the Roman legions in Italy under the command of a Romanised-Germanic general called Ricimer resisted Avitus, and he was defeated by 457. The new emperor, Marjorian, got the Burgundians and Visigoths to help him out in dealing with the Suebi, a Germanic tribe that had taken over much of Spain, but in the end the Visigoths further consolidated their holdings in Aquitaine by taking the area around Narbonne (Septimania) as well and the Burgundians took over Burgundy (the region of course gets its name from them), Provence and Savoy, sharing the lands there with the local senators. Northern Gaul was thus by the time of Marjorian's overthrow in 461, completely cut off from the remaining West Roman imperial territories in Italy and Dalmatia and, given the nature of communications at that time, had to basically be run on its steam (my source here is Peter Heather, "The Huns and the End of the Roman Empire in Western Europe", English Historical Review, 1994, pp 31 - 35).


(Above: Modern reconstruction of what Roman legionaries would have looked like in the mid-5th century)



So with this necessary context established, what kind of regime existed in northern Gaul in the 460s to 480s? The first theory is the most straightforward. Aegidius, the commander of the Roman legions in Gaul, kept the Roman imperial government structures (the legions, the tax system, the bureaucracy, the coinage) going at provincial level there and established himself as a "king" or as a contender for the imperial throne (as Steven Fanning has suggested, to counter those who suggest that this is implausible because the Romans had been ideologically opposed to kingship since Tarquin the Proud) with his base at Soissons in the modern day Picardy region of northeast France. His son Syagrius then succeeded him after his death and kept going until, well, we'll see in the upcoming translated chapter. However, there's a problem with this. Its all based on a passage in the Ten Books of Histories of Bishop Gregory of Tours (535 - 594). Since Gregory was writing about a century after all this was supposed to have happened, historians have argued that he is therefore not reliable, that either he got confused over what went on in the 460s and so decided to oversimplify things thus, or that for some reason or other he made a purposeful distortion. This goes with the feeling that the idea of a Roman rump-state holding out in northern Gaul is too romantic to be true, and doesn't gel well with what we know about how things worked out between Romans and barbarians elsewhere in the Roman west during the second half of the fifth century. 


(Above: A helpful yet somewhat controversial map)

The second theory, proposed by Edward James in "The Franks" (1988), argues that the Franks had already taken over northern Gaul by this point and had managed to accomodate themselves by allowing a lot of the imperial government structures to continue, provided they received shares in the tax revenue. Under this model, Aegidius was just a military commander and Syagrius was just a local count (a late Roman term for military governor, from which the medieval hereditary noble title eventually evolved by the eleventh century) of Soissons. The problem with it is that it doesn't explain why the Franks would have been fighting in Anjou and Orleans, supposedly areas under their control, as we saw in the last post. It doesn't properly account for Brittany, which the Franks didn't even begin to make moves towards conquering until well into the sixth century, and even in the areas near Brittany, Nantes and Vannes, the material culture remains thoroughly Gallo-Roman with no sign of Frankish influence until the late 500s. Gregory of Tours might have gotten things wrong, but since there's a complete gap in narrative histories for Gaul between the end of Prosper of Aquitaine's chronicle in 455 and when Gregory himself began writing his histories more than a century later, we can't dismiss him altogether. Indeed, some explanation needs to be made for why Soissons remained such an important political centre for Frankish kings up until the mid-tenth century (I get these critiques from Penny McGeorge's "Late Roman Warlords", Oxford University Press, 2002, pp 161 - 162).

A third theory favoured by McGeorge herself is to see northern Gaul as a "complex and shifting patchwork" (read massive clusterfuck) of competing powers, including Saxon, Alan and British settlements (as well as a Romano-British army led by a king), Frankish warlords, semi-autonomous Gallo-Roman bishops, municipal authorities, landowners and peasant communities and the remnants of the late Roman imperial administration all vying for power, with no one clearly on top (see Ibid, p 164). Yet another theory that I've heard going round on Historical discussion groups (but never seen a source cited for) suggests that Aegidius and the remnants of the Roman legions and Childeric and his Frankish warriors got together to form a joint Romano-Frankish kingdom. Perhaps there are some indications towards this concealed in the sources from Gregory of Tours on, after all if we recall correctly Adhemar, like Gregory, does describe Aegidius running Childeric's kingdom in his absence for 8 years. But I'm not sure if I buy it. As a a Carolingianist and post-Carolingianist, I ultimately sit on the fence on this matter. But what seems relatively uncontentious is that Syagrius's rule, even if it was just in Soissons, (Spoiler alert) came to an end and that Childeric's young son, Clovis, made himself top dog in northern Gaul. So without much further ado, let's hear what Adhemar had to say about all this - as always, I accept all faults in my translation.

"After this, King Childeric died; he had reigned for twenty-four years and his son, Clovis, manfully received the kingdom of the Franks. However, in the fifth year of Clovis’ reign, Syagrius, son of Aegidius, was residing in the city of Soissons, which his father had held, on which Clovis with Ragnachar, his kinsman, approached with an army, and they were fitted for war. Although they bravely fought with each other, decided to abandon his army in favour of fleeing to Alaric, king of the Visigoths, and he escaped to the city of Toulouse. Clovis directed his messengers to Alaric, in order that Syagrius would be returned to him; if, however, he [Alaric] was not willing to return him [Syagrius], they [the Franks] would prepare to do battle with him. But Alaric was afraid of the anger of the Franks, and he handed over Syagrius to the messengers of Clovis. When he [Syagrius] was presented to him, he [Clovis] ordered him to be executed, and he received all his kingdom and treasure"



(Above: what the gates of Soissons would have likely looked like at the time Clovis laid siege to them)


(Above: an early modern depiction of Syagrius being brought before Clovis, who is about to sentence him to death)



Saturday, 28 August 2021

More on the origins of the Merovingian kingdom from Adhemar of Chabannes - Chapters 6 and 7 of the Historia Francorum (c.460 - 481)

 <script async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js?client=ca-pub-8865025185775618"

     crossorigin="anonymous"></script>


Last time, we left Adhemar of Chabannes' Historia Francorum on a bit of a cliff-hanger. King Childeric, intoxicated with power and hubris (as well as being a little bit horny, perhaps), has gotten up to antics of a certain nature with the daughters of many of his subjects, and so, facing an uprising of the Frankish people, has to go into exile in Thuringia. Before he leaves, however, he hatches a crafty plan with his best mate, Wiomad. Here, we see where this plan leads to. Expect lots of hacking and slashing and burning, and also a romance which, while its not exactly as star-crossed as Anthony and Cleopatra, Lancelot and Guinevere, Abelard and Heloise, Dante and Beatrice or Percy and Annabeth (kudos to you if you can get the last one), is still a better love story than Twilight, if that means anything these days (I'm a medievalist not a contemporary historian, so how should I know?)

Anyway, enjoy the translations and, once again, all faults are my own.

Chapter 6: when King Childeric was raised to the kingdom



(Above: The Gold signet ring of King Childeric I - a classic example of the more abstract, Germanic/ sub-Roman artistic styles. Could it have been fashioned from the same half of the gold coin he gave to Wiomad in Adhemar of Chabannes' account?)

Indeed, the Franks, after Childeric had abandoned them, having followed bad advice, established Aegidius, prince of the Romans, to rule over the [Frankish] kingdom. When Aegidius had reigned over the Franks for eight years, Wiomad pretended to join in friendship with him; meanwhile what was known by him, was not known to Aegidius. Moreover, he encouraged Aegidius to deceitfully oppress the other Franks. Having heard that advice of his, Aegidius took to bitterly oppressing them. Indeed, they were turned from reverence to sedition; again, they desired advice from Wiomad as to what they must do. Yet to them, he said “why do you not remember how the Romans oppressed your people and ejected them from their land? Indeed, you ejected your useful and wise king, and raised over yourselves a servant of the Roman emperor, proud and conceited; you did not make a good resolution, but an exceedingly bad one.” And to Wiomad they replied “Indeed, he [Childeric] was ingenious to us. Due to the fact that he took advantage of your daughters wickedly and unlawfully, we became completely opposed to our king. If only we were rewarded to find him, and he would reign over us peacefully. Thereupon that friend [Wiomad] sent to the king the part of the gold coin which they had divided between themselves before, saying “return to the kingdom of the Franks because they are all pacified.” The king indeed, knowing this half of the gold coin to be the sign, understood it as a clear signal that he was desired by the Franks; and in response to their demands, returned to his kingdom. For while he was in Thuringia, with Queen Basina, the wife of King Bisinus, King Childeric committed adultery with her. Likewise, Basina, queen of Bisinus, king of the Thuringians, having left her man, came to Childeric. And when he questioned her what she was searching for, or else for what reason she had come to him from such a distant region, and she brought forth the response: “I altered your usefulness and handsomeness in order that you would be useful and wise, therefore I come in order to live with you. For if I were to have known, on the furthest limits of the sea, someone more useful than you, I would desire and beg for him to join together with me.” With rejoicing Basina was bound together with Childeric in marriage. Verily, receiving from him [Childeric], she gave birth to a son and he was named Clovis. This son was the great king over all the kings of the Franks and he was the bravest warrior.

 


(Above: Basina and Childeric depicted in a beautiful deluxe manuscript of the Grand Chroniques de France, produced in the 1330s for the future king of France, Jean II.)

Chapter Seven: In which the Franks cast out Aegidius, who they had instituted over themselves, and took back Childeric



(Above: seems like these chaps weren't just carving out kingdoms in lowland Britain and fighting battles with King Arthur, or whichever Romano-British warlord/s inspired the medieval legend. They were poking their noses round Gaul too).

In those days, the Franks captured the city of Agrippina over the Rhine, and they called it Cologne, as if tenant farmers lived there. They killed many of the Roman people from Aegidius’ part of Gaul there, and that same Aegidius escaped and fled. And they came to the city of Trier, over the river Moselle, and they laid waste to those lands and captured and set fire to that same city. Afterwards, King Childeric drove back a very large army of the enemies of the Franks and came through to the walls of the city of Orleans, and devastated the surrounding countryside. Adovagrius, leader of the Saxons, came through the sea with a fleet of ships up to the walls of the city of Angers, and he set that land ablaze, and thereupon great losses were inflicted on the city of Angers; afterwards, Adovagrius accepted hostages from Angers and from the other cities. Therefore, with Adovagrius having turned back from Angers, King Childeric of the Franks, having set in motion an army, came there; he killed Paulus, who was count there, and he captured that same city; and he burned down the city with fire, and from there he returned home.


(Below: a map of Europe in 481. Its the best I could find, though do exercise some caution in using it. The Kingdom of Syagrius will be making an important appearance next time, though do note that it refers to the territories in northern Gaul that remained under Roman rule even after 476).

<script async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js?client=ca-pub-8865025185775618"
     crossorigin="anonymous"></script>
<!-- The royal fisc -->
<ins class="adsbygoogle"
     style="display:block"
     data-ad-client="ca-pub-8865025185775618"
     data-ad-slot="6609158964"
     data-ad-format="auto"
     data-full-width-responsive="true"></ins>
<script>
     (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});
</script>

Thursday, 26 August 2021

An eleventh century monk's take on the migration era and the origins of the Merovingian dynasty - the Historia Francorum of Adhemar of Chabannes chapters 2 - 5 (c.1200 BC - 460 AD)


More than a week has passed and progress has been made with the translation of Adhemar of Chabannes. I must say that I've been really enjoying it, even if Adhemar's generally straightforward and unpolished Latin has thrown up a few difficulties in places. Everything up to the beginning of chapter 6 has now been translated and is here for you to read at your leisure. 


(Above: an image befitting the general theme of this post)

It is here that the content of Adhemar of Chabannes' History of the Franks moves from myth (see my last post) - though having revisited the Percy Jackson books this summer (one of my favourite series' of novels when I was a kid), which really rekindled my passion for all things Greek mythology, I say "myth" with just the slightest bit of disappointment - more towards what might be called history. Or maybe more accurately a kind of middle ground. Some of the figures who feature in these chapters definitely existed, like Emperor Valentinian I, Marcomer, Chlodio, Attila the Hun and Aegidius. Others such as the very early Frankish rulers with the very un-Germanic names of Priam and Antenor are definitely fictitious, and Faramund and Merovech are also shrouded in later legends - remember, though the contemporary documentary sources for fifth century Gaul are much better than those for post-Roman Britain (where they're almost non-existent save for that notorious sermon of Gildas'), we are still approaching the age of "King Arthur." Regarding the origins of the Franks, we can safely say that Adhemar's account of Frankish migration and ethnogenesis is wrong. There is absolutely no evidence, save for eighth century legend, to suggest that the Franks migrated from the sea of Azov in modern day Ukraine to the German Rhineland in the reign of the Roman emperor Valentinian I (r.364 - 375). The Franks seem to have originated instead as a confederation of West Germanic tribes in the modern day Franconia region of central Germany who first appear fighting the Romans during the Imperial Crisis/ "Military Anarchy" of the Third Century (235 - 284) - these tribes, including the Chamavi, the Chattuari, the Bructeri and the Salians, were all continued to have fairly distinct identities, but they banded together for military purposes and called themselves the Franks, meaning "the hardy", "the brave" or "the free", depending on who you asked. In the third century, the Franks were fairly successful in leading raids across the Rhine and devastating Roman Gaul, but Constantine the Great (r.306 - 337) defeated them, having their chieftains thrown to the wild beasts and the free men pressed into service in the Roman army. The Salian Franks were made Roman foederati (allies/ auxiliaries) and given a client state just over the Rhenish frontier in the south of what is now the Netherlands to rule and act as a buffer against the Frisians to the north, one of the barbarian tribes that could not be drawn in to the remit of imperial control by the gravitational pull of Roman civilisation but wanted some sweet, sweet Roman gold and other highly items that could be plundered. As the Western Empire began to be confronted with a new wave of barbarian invasions in the fifth century, the Franks provided them with some assistance against the Visigoths, Alans, and Burgundians early in the century and against Attila and the Huns at the battle of the Catalaunian fields near modern day Chalons-en-Champagne in 451. They also became increasingly more politically unified under Merovech (d.458) and Childeric (d.481) - I obtained all this information from Patrick Geary, "Before France and Germany: the Creation and Transformation of the Merovingian World", Princeton (1988), pp 77 - 80, more than thirty years old yet still authoritative and by one of the foremost living experts on the migration era and early Frankish history, certainly as concerns Anglophone academia.

But, I hear you cry "aren't myths precisely the stuff of history? Positivism, in which historians preoccupy themselves with narrowly defined 'facts' and what happened, is dead. Aren't narratives and perspectives what historians mostly deal with these days?" And you'd be right, and my own academic work (especially my masters' thesis) would confirm it to some degree. What makes it interesting is not whether Adhemar got his facts about what went on in late antiquity right - though it is interesting to find out what things people in the eleventh century knew about that time period that are still factually accepted by modern scholars, especially to counteract the tired old enlightenment stereotypes of those ignorant medievals. Instead, what is interesting here is how Adhemar, and the late seventh and early eighth century sources he drew from, the Fourth Book of Fredegar and Liber Historiae Francorum, tried to make sense of their ethnic past, or rather how they helped construct one to help strengthen a sense of Frankish identity. Ethnic histories like this abounded in the early middle ages - the most famous ones including Bede's "Ecclesiastical History of the English People" (731), Paul the Deacon's "History of the Lombards" (796) or Nennius' "History of the Britons" (828), which was an important foundation for Geoffrey of Mounmouth's "History of the Kings of Britain" (1136), including in its account of King Arthur.  Undoubtedly identity, is something that is often defined negatively - "we are from group x because we are not like group y or group z": it really isn't hard to think up historical or contemporary exempla for this, if you've been following the news at all for the last five years. But it can also be defined positively - by what brings us together rather than what divides us - through the development of shared interests, cultural practices and traditions, symbols, history and myths, on which there has been a lot of work done by historians, including ones of much more modern ones than this blog concerns. The exempla of this kind of identity formation include not just nations, social classes and political movements/ parties but also urban and rural communities, corporate organisations, schools, universities, sports clubs, friendship groups and, perhaps above all else, families. One can wonder what being a Frank meant in the early decades of the eleventh century. The Carolingian empire was long-gone, having fragmented into multiple kingdoms, some of which (like Adhemar's West Francia) had further fragmented into duchies (like Adhemar's native Aquitaine), counties and secular and ecclesiastical lordships, so there was no political unity to give "Frankish identity" any intuitive coherence. Meanwhile, the First Crusade, which would breathe new life into Frankish identity, largely because the Byzantines and Muslims used it as an ethnic slur to refer to all Westerners, whom they saw as barbarians that were good at courageous fighting and nothing else, was still a good few generations away. So what I think was going on here is that Adhemar, looking back at earlier origin stories for the Franks from the Merovingian/ early Carolingian eras, when Frankish political unity and ethnic consciousness was an ongoing project, and incorporated them into his history in order to give the Franks a heroic past that people in the politically fragmented present would want to identify with.

Moreover, what Adhemar has to about the fourth and fifth centuries AD still resonates with the debates about the Migration Era and the Fall of the Western Roman Empire still going on among scholars today. Above all, he appears to stress confrontation between Romans and barbarians (and between other barbarian groups) and a great deal of violence and destruction, exemplified in Chlodio's rampages through north-eastern Gaul - indeed, what happens at Cambrai sounds eerily like ethnic-cleansing. Whether the collapse of the Western Roman Empire really was the result of exogenous shock created by migration and confrontation between Romans and barbarians and whether it was catastrophically violent and destructive - and here I shall respectfully disagree with my former tutor at Worcester College, Oxford, Conrad Leyser, who claims that such a view of the fall of Rome, indeed the notion that such an event had taken place at all, was the invention of Italian Renaissance writers traumatised by the new wave of barbarian invaders from north of the Alps in the Italian Wars (1494 - 1559) - has been a source of great controversy since the 1970s. You'll find such diametrically opposed views on this matter coming from, on the one hand, Peter Heather and Bryan Ward-Perkins (see the interview with them together by Oxford University Press) and, on the other hand, Walter Goffart and Guy Halsall - Bryan Ward Perkins himself provides a good, but undoubtedly partial, overview of it all here. These debates aren't only academic controversies par excellence, they've also seeped into popular political discourse and inevitably things have gotten quite nasty. Broadly speaking, those who try to minimise the role of barbarian migration in the fall of Rome (indeed come close to denying it altogether, like Goffart) and emphasise accommodation between Romans and barbarians and fluid cultural and ethnic identities have been unfairly accused of pushing a politically-correct (we might now say "woke") agenda, while those who emphasise the catastrophic impact of the migrations and violent confrontation between Romans and barbarians have been hysterically accused of enabling the alt-right. But let's not get too side-tracked. What is clear is that whatever happened in the western regions of the Roman world in the fifth century AD mattered to intellectuals in the eleventh century, and still matters to us today in the twenty first, in how they made sense of the world and how they saw themselves. But now, time to let Adhemar, or rather my best attempts to translate him (I accept all errors as my own), take over.

Chapter 2 – concerning how the race of Alans rebelled against Emperor Valentinian, the Franks defeated them and the Franks were given tribute


(Above: Second Century AD Roman relief of an Alannic warrior)

After that time, the race of Alans, a perverse and very bad people, rebelled against Valentinian, emperor of the Romans. Thereupon, a most huge army moved from Rome and proceeded against that enemy, initiated battle, and overcame and defeated them. Consequently, the defeated Alans fled over the river Danube, and entered into the sea of Azov. However, the emperor said “whoever will be able to enter into these swamps and eject this wicked race, I will give them tribute for ten years.” Then the Trojans gathered together and devised stratagems, just as they were learned and noted for, and entered into the sea of Azov with others from the Roman people, and thence drove out the Alans and pierced them through with the blades of their swords. Thenceforth, Emperor Valentinian called them “Franks” in the Attic language, on account of their ferocity, rigour and courageous hearts.

 

Chapter 3 – where the emperor sent tax collectors in order that the Franks would pay tribute



(Above: statue of Emperor Valentinian I)

Therefore, after the aforementioned tribute was sent for ten years, the emperor [Valentinian] sent tax collectors with a first-rank commander from the Roman senate, in order to levy customary tribute from the Frankish people. These men also, as it were, were cruel and very monstrous, and after they had accepted their worthless delegation, the Franks said to them in turn “the emperor with the Roman army was not able to cast out the Alans, the brave and rebellious people, from the refuge of the swamps; indeed, was it not us who overcame them, why do we pay tribute? We stand here, therefore, against the first-rank man or rather these tax collectors, and we will kill them, and we will carry off all that they have with themselves, and we will not give the Romans tribute, and we will be free men in perpetuity.” Indeed, having prepared an ambush, they killed the tax collectors.

 

Chapter 4 – from when the same emperor set in motion an army against the Franks and up to their arrival in the Rhineland and their first king


(Above: a modern illustration of a fourth - sixth century Frankish warrior)

Hearing of this, the emperor [Valentinian], set alight with fury and anger, ordered that Aristarcus, his foremost general, move with an army against the enemies of the Romans and other peoples, and they directed battle lines against the Franks. Although there was a great slaughter on both sides, it was greater on that of the [Frankish] people. Certainly, regarding this, the Franks, because they could not sustain so great an army, were killed and yielded. In that place Priam, the bravest of them all, fell and they fled [the battlefield]. They also fled from Sicambria and came to the furthest parts of the river Rhine, to the towns of the Germans, and there they settled with their princes, Marcomer, son of Priam, and Sunno, son of Antenor; and they lived there for many years. After the death of Sunno, they heard a judgement in order to designate a king for them, like the other peoples. Marchomiris also gave them this advice, and they elected Faramund, his son, and they elevated him, their long-haired king, above themselves. At that very time they obtained laws and they managed to possess the superior ones of those peoples whose names were foreign to them: Wisogast, Arogast, Salegast, in the town beyond the Rhine: Inbotagin, Salecagin and Widecagin.

 

Chapter 5 – concerning the death of King Faramund and [the reign of] his son Chlodio, even the Hunnic invasion of Gaul


(Above: the Roman walls of Tongeren, which though they clearly served their purpose over the grand scheme of history, could not withstand Chlodio's forces)

Naturally, following the death of King Faramund, Chlodio, his long-haired son, was elevated to the royal dignity of his father. During that time, they [the Franks] chose to have long-haired kings, and they shrewdly came to the borders of Thuringia, and resided there. And so, King Chlodio lived in the stronghold of Duigsberg on the borders of Thuringia. On account of the peoples of Germania, all the regions that were east of the Rhine were called German, because their bodies were mountainous, their nations most vast and savage and they were hardened and always indomitable and very, very ferocious; an ancient text recounts that there were a hundred clans of these people. At that time, the Romans lived in those regions between the Rhine and the Loire; the lands south of the Loire were also ruled by them. And thus, the Burgundians, most heathen in that they held to the wicked doctrines of Arianism, were living on the opposite side of the Rhine, next to the city of Lyon. Consequently, Chlodio sent scouts from Duigsberg, stronghold of the Thuringians, all the way to the city of Cambrai. After that he crossed the Rhine with a great army, and he killed many of the Roman people and forced them to flee. Having come in through the charcoal-grey wood, he occupied the city of Tournai. Next, he came back to Cambrai, and he resided there for a short period of time; the Romans which he found there, he killed. Then he came all the way to the river Somme and occupied all of it.



(Above: where all the drama takes place)


(Yeah, this bad boy makes an appearance)

Following the death of King Chlodio, Merovech, his descendant, received the kingdom. Chlodio had reigned for twenty years. From the time of that useful king Merovech, the kings of the Franks were called Merovingians. At that time the Huns crossed the Rhine. They set Metz ablaze, destroyed Trier, passed through Tongeren, and came through all the way to Orleans. At that same time, the famous holy bishop Anianus was illustrious with miracles, and Aegidius, patrician of the Romans, and Theodoric, king of the Visigoths, came to him, and with the help of the Lord, as the Huns came to that city, as soon as St Anianus had prayed, Attila, their king, was subdued and thrown to the ground. At that very time, Merovech begat a son named Childeric, who was the father of Clovis, an illustrious and most courageous king. Indeed, at that time the Franks were pagan and frenzied, worshipping idols and images, and they did not yet know of the Lord who created the heavens and the earth. It was also at that time that Aegidius was sent away from the emperor, and was king in accordance with the Romans in that part of Gaul. And so it came to pass that King Childeric, son of Merovech, when he was becoming overweening in his rule over the Franks, he seduced their daughters to humiliate and degrade them. But, on account of this, they were enraged with great fury, and the vowed to kill him and deprive him of the royal dignity. Childeric, having heard of this, spoke to his friend, prudent in his counsel, called Wiomad, and begged with him for advice as to how he could be able to calm the furious spirits of the Franks. Thereupon, they gave between themselves the sign by which they would indicate what they needed to learn if at some time or other if the peace were to be restored. Afterwards, they divided between themselves one golden thing for a sign. One half was carried by King Childeric himself, the other half was kept by Wiomad, and he said, “when I will give this part to you, you should know that the Franks are with you and have been pacified by me, and serene peace will be restored.” Therefore, Childeric left for Thuringia and took refuge with its king, named Bisinus.


Tuesday, 17 August 2021

Getting acquainted with Adhemar of Chabannes, in which I also discover an eleventh century monk's take on the Trojan war


Yesterday, I started on a project I'd been resolved to do for a good few months now. After I translated, as part of my undergraduate thesis, the "Carmen ad Robertum Regem (Poem to King Robert the Pious)" by Bishop Adalbero of Laon (c.940 - 1031) - at once, one of the most satisfying and most frustrating things I've ever done in my life so far - I felt I had a mission to help make French history between the late ninth and mid-eleventh centuries more accessible by translating important sources that have never been translated into English before. I don't want to oversell my abilities as a medieval Latinist - despite both my parents being classicists, I never took a GCSE (14 - 16) or A level (16 - 18) in Latin, though I think I've just about compensated for that by subsequently going on a Latin course at UCL and doing medieval Latin as a component of my masters' degree. Instead, I simply figured that someone's got to do it, so it might as well be me. And I figured who could not be better to start off with than Adhemar of Chabannes. After all, a quick look on the website of the brilliant After Empire Project showed that there's no existing English translation of Adhemar's Historia Francorum. That someone hadn't already gotten onto this decades before me sincerely surprised me. He's pretty much the only vaguely contemporary narrative history we have that covers the history of Aquitaine (roughly a quarter of the French kingdom at that time) from 930 to 1028 in any significant level of detail. And he covers a lot of things that historians working on post-Carolingian/ post-millennial France (and western Europe more generally) are interested in, such as the four highly interlinked issues of church reform, the emergence of popular religious enthusiasm, the Peace of God movement and the first significant reappearances of heresy in the West since the sixth century. Robert Moore, whose (now classic) interpretative synthesis the "First European Revolution, c.970 - 1215" (2000) has become a staple on undergraduate reading lists for papers covering Western Europe in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, regularly uses Adhemar to support his arguments on all these issues in chapter 3 of the book. A quick glance at Adhemar's wikipedia page shows that he has had two scholarly monographs in book-form written about him in the last thirty years. And he's even made it into the creme de la creme of popular history - both Tom Holland's (no, not Spiderman) "Millennium" (2009) and Robert Moore's own dramatically titled (with fairly obvious political allusions) "The War on Heresy" (2012). So by the standards of any eleventh century French author, Adhemar of Chabannes is not obscure, so the fact he hasn't merited an English translation of his works is somewhat puzzling, given that English translations of medieval Latin primary sources generally are in high demand in universities for fairly obvious reasons (the decline of the study of classical languages in UK secondary schools). But those of you who haven't spent much time in eleventh century France may be wondering - who the hell is this guy anyway?

A bit of a colourful chap 



(Above) a drawing done in Adhemar's own hand 

For a medieval chronicler who lived a thousand years ago, we actually know a fair amount about Adhemar of Chabannes. He was born in 988, a year after the death of the last Carolingian king of West Francia and the accession of Hugh Capet (whose direct, male-line descendants would rule France for the next eight centuries), at the village of Chabannes in central-south-western France to what seems to have been a well-to-do family. He received his education as a novice monk at the Abbey of Saint-Martial de Limoges, where he was taught by his uncle Roger of Chabannes, who served as the abbey's music director from 1010 to 1025. Adhemar had a pretty interesting career after that. No doubt influenced by his uncle, he became a musical pioneer and, according to music historian James Grier, he made significant steps towards the development of modern musical literacy by developing a form of notation that used accurate heighting to present relative pitch information - while it still required the reader to already know the melody, the result was transformative (see James Grier "The Musical World of a Medieval Monk: Adhemar of Chabannes in Eleventh Century Aquitaine", Cambridge University Press, 2009, pp 325 - 326). Indeed you can see it in practice in Adhemar's own autograph hand from one of the hymns he composed ( see below, Bibliotheque Nationale de France, lat 909 fol. 151r-154r). He also wrote the Historia Francorum - a history of the Franks from their earliest origins to 1028 - which I am, of course, translating.


Adhemar's career also had a somewhat darker side to it. He embraced the developing tale that St Martial, the first Christian bishop of Limoges who initiated the conversion of Aquitaine, was actually born almost three centuries earlier, making him one of Jesus' original apostles. Knowing that the documentation for this was scanty at best, Adhemar decided to add to the evidence for Martial's "apostolicity" by forging a hagiography (saintly biography) of Martial, which he tried to present as having been written by Aurelian, the priest converted by the saint who succeeded him as bishop. He also composed an apostolic mass for Saint Martial, which the Bishop of Limoges and the Abbot of Saint-Martial had performed on 3 August 1029. However, a monk from Lombardy called Benedict of Chiusa sensed that something was amiss, and denounced the "Life of Martial" as a provincial forgery and the new liturgy as offensive to God. Adhemar's response was to splash-out even more on the forgeries, fabricating a church council of 1031 and a papal letter. This was a massive success - though doubted elsewhere, Martial's apostolicity became well-established in Aquitaine and it was only in 1920s that the Life of St Martial, the church council of 1031 and the papal letter were definitively proved to be forgeries by the Benedictine monk and historian Louis Saltet. At some other occasion, I will discuss the business of medieval forgery at greater length - its fascinating and crucially important for medievalists, especially those working (like I do) on the eighth to twelfth centuries, to understand. Perhaps to clear his conscience, Adhemar of Chabannes went on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem in 1034, where he died.

Adhemar the ancient historian






Adhemar begins his History of the Franks with, perhaps surprisingly for some, the Trojan war. Below is my translation of the first chapter (all faults with it are my own)

The beginning of the Frankish kingdom or rather the origin of that people, came forth from war. Indeed, it was in Asia, stronghold of the Trojans. There, there was a city that was called Troy, where Aeneas ruled. The Trojans were a brave and strong race of warriors, and they renewed wars excessively – restlessly exhorting themselves through their struggles, they went around conquering the lands that encircled them. However, the kings of the Greeks roused themselves to action and fought against Aeneas with an army, losing a great many men against him. Thither many of the Trojan people fell to the ground, and so Aeneas fled and hid himself away in the city of Troy. The Greeks fought against that city for ten years. Indeed, when the city had fallen, the tyrant Aeneas fled to Italy to contract peoples for fighting. Others also from amongst the princes, namely Priam and Antenor, boarded onto ships with the twelve thousand soldiers that were left of the Trojan army and departed from Troy, and they came all the way to the banks of the river Don. Having entered into the sea of Azov, they sailed and came through to the ends of Pannonia, adjoining the sea of Azov, and began to build a city. According to their memorial, they called it Sicambria, and they lived there for many years and greatly multiplied in population.

Adhemar's rather brief account of the siege of Troy obviously bears little relation to Homer's version of the events. The Iliad and the Odyssey were almost completely inaccessible to scholars in the Latin west until very late in the Middle Ages. Medieval scholars plenty about the Trojan war but they got their knowledge of it from works written in Latin like Virgil's Aeneid, the 1070-line "Ilias Latina" by the first century AD Roman senator Publius Baebius Italicus and the (pseudo)history purported to be written by at the time of the war itself by Dares Phrygius, a Trojan priest of Hephaestus (I must read Frederic Clark's brand new monograph on it someday). But Adhemar doesn't seem to be directly engaging with those authorities. Instead, as Adhemar's modern editor Jules Chavanon has pointed out, Adhemar looked to more recent sources than those to research his material early chapters of his histories, namely the seventh century chronicle of Fredegar and its continuation and the Liber Historiae Francorum, written in 727 by an anonymous layman (see Adhemar de Chabannes, "Chronique", edited by Jules Chavanon, Collection de textes pour servir a la etude et la enseignement de l'histoire, Paris, 1897, p xii). These sources also gave a similar account of the Trojan origins of the Franks. When exactly this legend of Trojan origins developed for the Franks developed is unknown, but it was certainly widespread under the later Merovingian kings in the seventh and early eighth centuries. The attractions it would have had at the time are fairly straightforward - it gave the Franks a venerable history and lineage, and as those who are familiar with Virgil will instantly deduce, it established their kinship with the Romans and by extension will have given them legitimate claims to a share in their former territories and their glorious legacy. Such legends were promoted as official history by the French monarchy and were still widely believed in the early modern period. Dissenting voices were not welcome - in 1714, the learned Nicolas Freret was arrested and imprisoned in the Bastille for claiming that the Franks were in fact Germans (see George Huppert, "The Trojan Franks and their Critics", Studies in the Renaissance Volume 12, 1965, p 227). Only with the French revolution of 1789 - 1794, when it became politically convenient to argue instead that the French royal family and aristocracy were the descendants of Germanic invaders who had imposed their alien and barbaric ways on civilised Gallo-Romans (the ancestors of the French people), was the myth of Trojan origins definitively abandoned. 


Thursday, 12 August 2021

A somewhat overrated but still very important event: The Treaty of Verdun (843)

As background to my series' on the last Carolingian kings (starting with the mini-series on Charles the Simple) and ton the Ottonians, I am going to make a post about a certain event that happened 1178 years ago (the exact date is not known, but it took place in the month of august) at a certain place in what is now the Lorraine region of eastern France. 

The Long backstory

On Christmas day 800, Charlemagne, king of the Franks and Lombards, was crowned Roman emperor in the West by Pope Leo III in St Peter's Basilica in Rome. This was literally the crowning glory to three decades of near constant political and military achievement, in which the Franks had acquired an empire comprising essentially the original six nations of the European Economic Community (the forerunner to the EU) - France, Belgium, Netherlands, Luxembourg, West Germany and Italy - plus a few other areas, namely modern day Switzerland, Austria and Catalonia. This made Charlemagne's empire the largest political unit Western Europe had known since the collapse of the old Western Roman Empire in the fifth century. In many ways this might have seemed to have ushered in an exciting new era. Charlemagne set to work at building an imperial capital at Aachen replete with an imperial palace, whose chapel (the only bit that survives today, see image below) was modelled on the architectural styles prevalent in the still surviving eastern half of the Roman Empire (what modern historians choose to call the Byzantine Empire) and was constructed with classical Roman columns brought over from Italy. In 802, he made all free men over the age of 12 in the realm swear an oath of loyalty directly to him - an unprecedented display of authority which must have required some very concerted administrative effort -and doubled down on an ambitious programme of governmental, ecclesiastical and moral reform. In the meantime, as part of his ideology of Roman imperial renewal, an ambitious revival of classical literature, art and education took place - what modern historians call the Carolingian Renaissance.

Still, not everything was looking great. This was about the point in time the Vikings were starting to make a nuisance of themselves, and Charlemagne's ambitious reform programme was all the more necessary (and some would say all the more futile) as complaints about corruption, maladministration and the oppression of the poor by the powerful were mounting. And then there was the problem of the succession. Charlemagne had three sons who survived to adulthood - Pepin, Louis and Charles the Younger. He also had four surviving daughters and half a dozen illegitimate children from various concubines. Succession to the Frankish kingdom was governed by the Salic law that had been followed by the dynasty that preceded the Carolingians, the Merovingians, which ruled that all close male relatives were eligible to inherit a portion of a dead man's lands, and the kingdom was no different in this respect. Charlemagne being emperor made this no different - his coronation, while undoubtedly an important event, did not mark the beginning of a new state and at a certain level Charlemagne may have seen the emperorship as essentially being his personal accolade. In 806, he drew up a plan for the division of the empire after his death. Pepin would rule as king over Italy and Bavaria. Louis' kingdom would consist of Aquitaine, Burgundy, Provence, Septimania and the Spanish March (the southern half of France plus Catalonia, basically). Charles the Younger would get what was left - that being essentially the entire northern half of the empire. Revealingly, no arrangements were made about who would inherit the imperial title. However, this plan never saw the light of day. When the great Frankish emperor finally breathed his last in 814, only one son was still alive, and that was Louis. Louis thus inherited an undivided empire - he had already been crowned king of the Franks and co-emperor by his ailing father the previous year. 




Louis (see the coin of him below, modelled on Roman imperial coinage), or Louis the Pious as he would later become known (Ludwig der Fromme in German), was an idealist and a visionary who wanted to take the Carolingian reform programme of administrative and moral correctio (correction) to unprecedented levels. Like many people at the time, he subscribed to an essentially Old Testament view of kingship that saw the prosperity and security of the realm as dependent on the moral well-being of its rulers and people. Closely aligned with this, he firmly believed that as emperor he was responsible for the spiritual salvation of his people as well as their material security. What prevented his grand designs for  going as smoothly as he might have hoped was the issue that had dogged the final third of his father's reign - and indeed, would dominate Carolingian politics for the rest of the ninth century - that of the succession. In 814, three of Louis' sons had already been fortunate enough to have made it past infancy - Lothar, Louis and Pepin. Unfortunately for Louis, he had to decide what to do with them. In 817 he drew up a document called the divisio imperii, which stipulated that Lothar was to get the imperial title and have most of the territories of the empire under his direct rule, while his brothers Pepin and Louis were to rule in Aquitaine and Bavaria respectively as subordinate kings (if they had sons they would inherit their kingdoms when they died, if they did not then they would revert to the emperor). But in 818, Louis' wife, the empress Ermengarde, died - the two of them had been quite close, and Ermengarde had closely advised Louis on many of his policies - and Louis reluctantly remarried, on the advice of his counsellors, to Judith, who gave him a son, Charles, in 821. This meant he had yet another son to provide for, as per ancient Frankish law and custom, and that meant chipping away at his other sons' inheritances, specifically that of Lothar, whose piece of the pie was by far the biggest as per the divisio imperii. Lothar and Pepin resented this between 830 and 839 Louis fought three civil wars against him - they were joined by their brother Louis for the third At some points things looked pretty dismal indeed for Louis - in 833 he was forced to perform a humiliating public penance and was technically deposed, but was fully re-instated as emperor the following year with widespread backing from the nobility. By 840, Louis was clearly on top and peace and order had been restored to the empire, but the stress of near-constant campaigning had taken a toll on his health and, after retreating to his summer hunting lodge near the palace of Ingelheim-am-Rhine, he died on 20 June 840, having forgiven his rebellious sons and confirmed Lothar as the new emperor. 


What happened next was all-out civil war. Here, it was Lothar and his nephew Pepin of Aquitaine (so many Pepins to keep track of, I know), the son of the previous Pepin, trying to keep the empire together, while Charles (known to posterity as Charles the Bald) and Louis (known to posterity as Louis the German) were trying to carve out kingdoms of their own. On 25 June 841, a battle was fought between the two sides at Fontenoy-en-Puisaye in eastern France. A great slaughter followed. Andreas Agnellus, the bishop of Ravenna, estimated that 40,000 men died on each side - battlefield casualty statistics from early medieval writers are always to be taken with a pinch of salt, if trusted at all, but this was undoubtedly not a skirmish between a couple of thousand highly trained warrior retainers on either side (which is what some historians have argued to be typical of Carolingian warfare) but a major set-piece battle that really pitted the Frankish people against each other, and carnage ensued. For those who fought there, it was psychologically scarring. We are fortunate enough to know this because the Carolingian empire did have a mostly literate lay aristocracy, and two lay aristocrats who fought at the battle of Fontenoy expressed themselves eloquently on the matter - the historian Nithard and the poet Angilbert. Here is Angilbert's poem "Lament for Fontenoy." While it does contain some Old Testament imagery (as was standard for Latin literature at that time), one can nonetheless see genuine trauma in Angilbert's beautifully crafted verses, as genuine as that of any of the WW1 poets. 

 Fontenoy they call its fountain, manor to the peasant known,

There the slaughter, there the ruin, of the blood of Frankish race;
Plains and forest shiver, shudder; horror wakes the silent marsh.

Neither dew nor shower nor rainfall yields its freshness to that field,
Where they fell, the strong men fighting, shrewdest in the battle's skill,
Father, mother, sister, brother, friends, the dead with tears have wept.

And this deed of crime accomplished, which I here in verse have told,
Angibert myself I witnessed, fighting with the other men,
I alone of all remaining, in the battle's foremost line.

On the side alike of Louis, on the side of Charles alike,
Lies the field in white enshrouded, in the vestments of the dead,
As it lies when birds in autumn settle white off the shore.

Woe unto that day of mourning! Never in the round of years
Be it numbered in men's annals! Be it banished from all mind,
Never gleam of sun shine on it, never dawn its dusk awake.

Night it was, a night most bitter, harder than we could endure,
When they fell, the brave men fighting, shrewdest in the battle's skill,
Father, mother, sister, brother, friends, the dead with tears have wept.

Now the wailing, the lamenting, now no longer will I tell;
Each, so far as in him lieth, let him stay his weeping now;
On their souls may He have mercy, let us pray the Lord of all.

Overleaf: A much later (and more romanticised) depiction of the Battle of Fontenoy from a manuscript (dating to c.1460) of the Grand Chroniques de France, painted by the great French early renaissance painter Jean Fouquet.

In the end, the battle did have a clear winner - the divisionist side of Charles the Bald and Louis the German. Lothar and the imperialists were utterly crippled, and not long afterwards the emperor was forced to abandon the imperial capital, Aachen. In 842 Charles the Bald and Louis the German sealed their alliance at Strasbourg with mutual oath-taking, in which each of them swore oaths to each other's troops in the vernacular - Charles swore the oath before Louis' troops in a very early dialect of Old High German, while Louis swore the oath before Charles' troops in "the Roman language." The texts of the oaths is preserved and thus is a goldmine for historical linguists. The "Roman language" which Louis swore the oath in had clearly evolved quite some way from the spoken Vulgar Latin (as opposed to the high, literary Latin of Cicero, Caesar, Virgil, Ovid and Livy) of Roman Gaul into something that could now be called a Romance language. Some scholars have argued that the language of the text can be seen as the earliest written form of Old French. However, some more conservative linguists argue that it can't quite be considered Old French - it does not have any distinguishing features that would identify it as a forerunner to any of the literary dialects, either the Langue D'Oil of the northern French chansons de geste (songs of deeds in war), or the Occitan of Southern French troubadour fin'amour (what modern scholars call courtly love) lyrics, that attain written form when French vernacular literature gets going in the twelfth century. Indeed, there's one theory that the scribe who wrote the text of the oaths deliberately wrote in a kind of Gallo-Romance Koine, deliberately designed to be mutually intelligible to all regional dialects, like the Koine Greek of the New Testament. Below is the Gallo-Romance text:

Pro Deo amur et pro christian poblo et nostro commun salvament, d'ist di en avant, in quant Deus savir et podir me dunat, si salvarai eo, cist meon fradre Karlo, et in aiudha, et in cadhuna cosa, si cum om per dreit son fradra salvar dift, in o quid il mi altresi fazet, et ab Ludher nul plaid nunquam prindrai, qui meon vol cist meon fradre Karle in damno sit.

English translation (not my own): "For the love of God and the Christian populace and our joint salvation, from this day onward, to the best of my knowledge and abilities granted by God, I shall protect my brother Charles by any means possible, as one ought to protect one's brother, insofar as he does the same for me, and I shall never willingly enter into a pact with Lothair against the interests of my brother Charles."

The Treaty of Verdun and beyond

Lothar's position was incredibly fragile and so he agreed to come to a settlement with Louis and Charles. At Verdun in August 843 they agreed to divide the Empire into three between them (see the map below), but with Lothar keeping the imperial title. As you can see below, Charles' kingdom roughly corresponds to modern day France but plus Flanders and Catalonia and minus Alsace, Lorraine, the Rhone valley and Provence. Louis the German's kingdom is essentially West Germany minus some territories on the left bank of the Rhine and including some bits of modern day Switzerland, Austria and Slovenia. Therefore, some have seen this moment as being the genesis of France and Germany. Lothar on the other hand got what remained in the middle. Some would say that Lothar's kingdom was doomed from the start, arguing that it was simply too unwieldy to govern in an age when information could only travel as fast as a horse's hooves and with the Alps forming a significant obstacle between the north and south of his kingdom, that it was too ethnically and linguistically heterogeneous (a roughly 60:40 split between Romance and Germanic peoples) and that it was too vulnerable to attack from either side (I am kind of guilty of this tendency myself, in a certain meme I made, one featuring my all-time favourite animal). But I don't think there's any good reason to see Lothar's kingdom as any less viable than West and East Francia. Size was a problem for them too, and they were all inhabited by various different peoples each with their own dialects, laws and customs. While the inhabitants of Charles' kingdom north of the Loire identified as Franks and were subject to the laws of the Salian Franks, the inhabitants south of the Loire identified as Burgundians, Gascons, Visigoths (in Septimania and the Spanish March) and even Romans (I suspect that many old senatorial families still lingered in the aristocracy of southern Gaul) and were subject to Roman law - the Theodosian Code of 438 in Aquitaine and the Visigothic Breviary of Alaric II in Septimania and Catalonia - and the laws of the Burgundians. East Francia was a land of even starker contrasts, with the recently converted Saxons in the north, who had been making sacrifices to Odin and Thor in a time still within living memory, and still lived in a rough, frontier society governed by tribal customs, versus the cultured Bavarians in the south who took pride in having once been a Roman province and having converted to Christianity earlier than all the other peoples of East Francia; and its administrative and communications infrastructure were the least developed of the three kingdoms. Meanwhile, Lothar's kingdom had the highly agriculturally and viticulturally productive Meuse, Moselle, Rhine, Rhone and Po river valleys, making it very wealthy, as well as so many different places of ideological prestige including the imperial capital of Aachen, the old Lombard capital at Pavia, many great cities and bishoprics that went back to Roman times like Cologne, Trier, Lyon, Vienne, Milan and Ravenna and the great Carolingian family monasteries of Prum and Stavelot-Malmedy. 



Above, all its crucial to remember that this was not an age of nationalism. The Carolingian nobility (what German historians call the Reichsaristokratie) continued to embrace a pan-Frankish identity and continued to own lands and act as patrons to monasteries in several different kingdoms - for example, Eberhard of Friuli (died 867), duke (military governor) of Friuli in the north east of the Italian kingdom, gave his lands in Italy and in the East Frankish kingdom to his eldest son Unruoch, his second eldest Berengar got his lands and monasteries in north western Lotharingia (modern day Wallonia region of Belgium) and his other two sons got his estates in northern West Francia. Church councils were still attended by bishops from across the Carolingian kingdoms, and flourishing intellectual networks drew in luminaries not only from all over the territories of the Frankish empire but also from the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, Ireland and Christian Spain. And the kings themselves still kept to roughly the same royal ideology and carried on with the Carolingian reform project in their respective kingdoms.

What would do for Lothar's kingdom in the end was, yet again, dynastic problems. Lothar had three sons who survived to adulthood - Lothar II, Charles (so many Charles', I know, its confusing) and Louis (Louis was another name the Carolingians were hooked on calling their sons) - and when he died in 855 they proceeded to divide it between the three of them with the Treaty of Prum. Lothar II got the northern vertical strip from the North Sea down to the foothills of the Alps that soon became known for many a century to come as Lotharingia. Charles got the Rhone Valley and Provence. And Louis got Italy and the imperial title as Emperor Louis II. But biological good luck was not on their side. Charles died childless in 863 and his territories were shared between Lothar and Louis II. Lothar II quickly realised that his wife Queen Theutberga, whom he married in 855, was barren and so tried to divorce her and marry his concubine, Waldrada instead, but since the leading bishops of the ninth century were trying to assert ecclesiastical jurisidiction over marriage, and insisted on it as being sacramental and binding, Lothar had to fabricate an excuse in claiming that Theutberga had been engaging in incest with her brother, Hucbert. Hucbert offered to defend the reputation of him and his sister in trial by combat, and after Queen Theutberga was shown to be innocent in a trial by ordeal of boiling water (her hand healed rather than blistered a few days after being doused in boiling water) Lothar was forced to take her back. Lothar thus died without legitimate issue in 869 and his two uncles, Charles the Bald and Louis the German, briefly went to war with each other before signing the Treaty of Meerssen (see below), in which they divided Lotharingia between them.


Dynastic bad luck came next for Louis II in 875, who also died without male issue. Charles the Bald and Louis the German went to war again, this time over Italy, and by 880 it was annexed to the East Frankish kingdom. Dynastic bad luck then hit the West Frankish branch of the Carolingian family real hard - after Charles the Bald died in 877, his son Louis the Stammerer reigned for only two years and his two teenaged sons from his first marriage, Pepin (still more Pepins) and Carloman, ruled the kingdom jointly for three years and then with Carloman as sole ruler for two years. When Carloman died in 884, his only heir was his five year old half-brother, Charles the Simple. The West Frankish nobility didn't want a child king, especially since this the point in time at which the Viking invasions were at their most devastating, so they invited Charles the Fat, the youngest son of Louis the German who had already hoovered up East Francia and Italy by outlasting all his brothers, to become king of West Francia. For four years, the Carolingian Empire was reunited under a single emperor. But Charles the Fat was a uninspiring leader with too many talented subordinates, and he too had failed to procure a legitimate male heir. So when he died of a stroke in January 888 after facing a rebellion in East Francia from his illegitimate nephew, Arnulf of Carinthia, the empire broke up again, this time forever, with the aristocracies of West Franica, Burgundy, Provence and Italy all electing kings from amongst their own ranks.





Long-term legacy

In the very long term, the Treaty of Verdun would indeed be very significant. West Francia and East Francia would, in the long-run, despite all the territorial configuration and reconfiguration all the way through the ninth century and beyond, prove to be quite durable political units and would, no later than the thirteenth century, develop into the distinct and recognisable cultural entities of France and Germany. Meanwhile, the old Middle Kingdom of Lothar would become a battleground between the rulers of the two kingdoms bestride it. I won't go into the details of what happened in the tenth century, since I'll cover them in other posts. Suffice to say that from c.1000 - 1643 the border between France and Germany/ the Holy Roman Empire lay squarely at the river Meuse, with Verdun itself being a border fortress, but after the Thirty Years' War concluded in 1648 France, which was among the victorious powers, got given various towns and fortresses east of the Meuse. Louis XIV fought a series of wars to bring the French border to the left bank of the Rhine, and also to conquer the Hapsburg Netherlands (modern day Belgium), in which he managed some further territorial acquisitions, including Alsace and French Flanders (the area around Lille and Dunkirk). Successive French leaders thereafter tried to achieve the same result - Louis XV managed to annexe all of Lorraine by 1766, and over the course of the French Revolutionary Wars (1792 - 1802) the First French Republic managed to bring its borders all the way to the left bank of the Rhine. Indeed, the areas under direct rule from Paris in the reign of Emperor Napoleon I essentially corresponded to West Francia plus the kingdom of Lothar (see map below).

After Napoleon's defeat in 1815 the French border was again set where it is now. But in 1871, Alsace and Lorraine were lost to the newly unified German Empire. They would only be regained by France after WW1, a war whose Western front essentially encompassed the old kingdom of Lothar II and its borderlands with West Francia (see map below). 



France would again lose Alsace and Lorraine to Germany with Hitler's invasion in 1940, and it was only in 1945 that the border between France and Germany was finally set where it is now, with its security and that of the Low Countries being guaranteed by the formation of the European Economic Community soon after. The European Economic Community would of course develop into the European Union. Interestingly enough, the EU's headquarters are located in Brussels and Strasbourg, both of them located in the old middle kingdom of Lothar II, and the EU annually awards the Charlemagne prize to those who they think merit it for the promotion of a pan-European identity. So one might say the story of the rise and crisis of the Carolingian empire is a central foundation myth to the European Union and its ideals.



Why this book needs to be written part 1

Reason One: the Carolingian achievement is a compelling historical problem This one needs a little unpacking. Put it simply, in the eighth c...