Thursday 30 June 2022

Carolingian government in action: The Edict of Pitres (864)

  I am back!!! After almost two months of inactivity (54 days to be precise), the longest in the history of this blog, I am now active again. Those of you who have been actively following may have been wondering what happened to Charles Martel part four - he'll be with you very soon, I promise. But I thought I'd give you an explanation as to what has been going on in the time in between. From 3 May to 17 June I have been on a long-anticipated journey round Europe to see some of the best late antique and early medieval stuff out there, as well as things from other historical periods. A kind of Grand Tour for the twenty-first century, if you will, but orientated completely towards my personal interests rather than a canonical selection of cities and Classical sites (mostly in France and Italy) believed to be essential to the education of any young gentleman. In the course of those 46 days I travelled a minimum of 4849.1 km by train (excluding day trips to outlying places) and walked 610.9 km (13.2 km a day on average) through five Continental European countries - France, Germany, Czech Republic, Austria and Italy. That number could be increased to seven if you include changing trains in Luxembourg and Switzerland. Basically covered a good whack of Charlemagne's Empire, and with all that near-constant travelling, one got some sense of what it must have been like to have been like to have been a highly itinerant ruler like Otto the Great, Conrad II or Frederick Barbarossa - above all, how exhausting it must have been. 


As you might suspect, the many great and wonderful things I saw on my travels will be the subject of many a blog post. But for the moment, in order to prepare you for the first blog post, I am going to do one on the Edict of Pitres, arguably one of the most important documents in early medieval history, as it gives us unparalleled insights into how an early medieval government was at least supposed to have worked. 

Who, what, where, when and Why?

 The Edict of Pitres was issued on 25 June. It was issued by the king of West Francia, Charles the Bald (823 - 877), at the royal villa of Pitres on the Seine, in what is now the French region of Normandy but was then called Neustria. The Edict was a legislative act issued following a royal assembly, which leading churchmen and landed aristocrats from throughout the kingdom had attended, where all kinds of consultation and discussion concerning the Edict's provisions had taken place before hand. As for the why, we need to take a step back and look at Charles the Bald's reign before that.

The Road to Pitres

Charles the Bald's reign up until this point had been quite a bumpy ride. He had won his kingdom through an extremely bloody and brutal three-year civil war, in which he and his brother, Louis the German, fought against their other brother, Lothar, and their nephew, Pepin II of Aquitaine, following the death of their father, Emperor Louis the Pious (r.814 - 840). I have covered this and the treaty of Verdun that followed in a previous post (see hyperlink above). 

No sooner had Charles secured his kingdom, he found himself faced with revolts from prominent nobles from the western regions of his kingdom, like Lambert of Nantes, who were still loyal to Lothar and his cause for a unified Frankish Empire. These threats were however eliminated fairly quickly. But in order to make sure that he political community as a whole in West Francia stayed loyal to him, Charles had to accept various constraints and limitations on his royal authority in a legislative act called the Capitulary of Coulaines - a kind of forerunner to Magna Carta. For the next five years, Aquitaine (the entire southern half of his kingdom) had tried to secede and become its own independent kingdom ruled by Charles' nephews. By 848 the nobles in Aquitaine and the Spanish March (Catalonia) had come to realise that all the advantages of having a local king were offset by said local king being a total car crash. Yet it was only in 864, a few months prior to the issuing of the edict, that Pepin II was finally pacified once and for all. Worse was to come in 858 when the West Frankish nobles, highly dissatisfied with Charles' rule, offered the crown to his brother, Louis the German. Charles was unable to raise an army to resist Louis and hid himself away in Burgundy. Only by rallying the support of the West Frankish bishops, led by Archbishop Hincmar of Rheims (806 - 882), combined with desertions in Louis' army was Charles able to keep his throne. In 862, Charles had even faced-down a short-lived rebellion of magnates from the northern and western regions of his kingdom led by his own 16-year-old son, Louis the Stammerer.

But by the summer of 864, the situation had changed and Charles was now in a much stronger position politically, with his royal authority unchallenged. Therefore, Charles needed to make a statement that would proclaim his might as a ruler and the newfound confidence in his kingship. He also had some pressing concerns. Viking attacks down the riverine waterways of the Frankish kingdoms had been escalating. Trade with the east via Russia was becoming less profitable for the Scandinavians, as the Abbasid Caliphate was starting to politically fragment (a classic “centre can no longer hold” type situation) and its silver mines in the Middle East were drying up. Meanwhile, Britain and Mainland Europe still made rich pickings – we’re only three years off from the Great Heathen Army landing in Northumbria. Charles therefore needed to ramp up the Frankish state structures to prepare them for the worst to come. What was to happen at Pitres was going to be the defining moment of Charles the Bald’s kingship, a chance to put the last two decades behind him.



Charles the Bald appears enthroned in the Vivian Bible (846), BNF Lat 1 folio 423r

Charles the Bald's political style

Any royal assembly was a chance for a king to give charismatic displays of his royal authority. For example, we know that Carolingian Frankish kings wore their crowns at royal assemblies, as would the West Saxon kings of England from the tenth century onwards in emulation of Frankish practice. Processions, litanies and other ritual elements could be expected to happen, and its beyond reasonable doubt that these were quite theatrical occasions, even if no set of stage directions survives for a Carolingian assembly. Assemblies were also an opportunity for the king’s subjects who didn’t have the privilege of regularly attending on him at court to get close to their ruler – impress him with gifts, give him news of what was going on in their corner of the kingdom, petition him to give them favours or redress any grievances. Furthermore, they allowed members of the political community to socialise with each other – hunting and feasting would almost always be on the agenda in organising these assemblies. And most importantly, they were a forum for a king to receive formal advice from his subjects on matters of state and build consensus in support of his policies. Royal assemblies, which happened annually, were thus the key mechanism for kings to get anything done on a kingdom-wide level, and they were what held the kingdom together as a single unified entity in the absence of large, administrative bureaucracies like the Western Roman Empire had had western European monarchs from the twelfth century onwards would do.

Despite the importance of the event, we don’t know the actual proceedings of the assembly at Pitres. Archbishop Hincmar of Rheims was an eyewitness, yet in the Annals of Saint Bertin, which he authored, he only tells us what was accomplished there. Annual tribute was received from the Bretons, who had from 845 to 851 successfully fought to free themselves from direct Frankish rule and had become a tribute-paying client state. New fortifications were to be built on the Seine to defend against Viking attacks. Finally, “with the advice of his faithful men and following the custom of his predecessors and forefathers, he [Charles] drew up capitula to the number of thirty-seven, and he gave orders for them to be observed as laws throughout his realm.” That this is an allusion to the Edict of Pitres, there can be no doubt.

Hincmar’s statement highlights one of multiple purposes of the Edict – as royal-image making/ public relations/ propaganda (whatever you wanna call it). As Janet Nelson has demonstrated, Imperial Roman legislation in the form of the Theodosian Code of 438 and the Novels of Emperor Valentinian III (r.425 – 455) is cited, sometimes verbatim, as being the inspiration behind thirty-three of the provisions of the Edict. The number of chapters of the edict (37), mentioned by Hincmar, was very deliberately chosen, as the Novels of Valentinian III were 36 in number. None of this would have been lost on the Edict’s audience. Roman law in one form or another was still the legal system in the southern half of Charles’ kingdom (Aquitaine and the Spanish March). And churchmen from the northern half of the kingdom like Hincmar had extensively studied the Theodosian Code even though where they lived the Law of the Salian Franks, which had its roots in ancient Germanic custom, held sway. Charles himself appears to have claimed to have studied Roman law as a boy in a letter he sent to Pope Hadrian II in 870. And more than thirty years ago, Freculf of Lisieux had written for the instruction of the young Charles of how Theodosius I, “a man necessary for restoring the state” had “corrected many laws, added to them and issued them in his own name. Whatever laws he saw in the city to be pernicious and redundant in terms of ancient custom, he authorised them to be removed; and he saw to it that whatever laws were necessary to help the state were added.” The Edict also cites in various places earlier legislative directives (capitularies) from Charles’ father, Emperor Louis the Pious, and his grandfather, Charlemagne. And as Charles would have been aware, his grandfather had all the law codes of the different peoples living within his Empire written down, and had tried to reconcile the differences between the two legal systems operating in the heartlands of his empire (the Law of the Salian Franks and the Law of the Ripaurian Franks) but in the end had only added a few chapters to them to bring them somewhat up-to-date. Despite the fact that Charles the Bald, unlike his two elder brothers, had never met his grandfather, he was held up as a role model for him from boyhood and Einhard’s Life of Charlemagne was prescribed as a text for him to study in the schoolroom. Thus, through the Edict, Charles was very consciously casting himself in the mould of the Christian Roman emperors, especially Theodosius I (r.379 – 395) and Theodosius II (r.408 – 450), and of his immediate predecessors, who had always been held up to him as exemplary rulers.

What is the edict actually all about?

Even more interesting is what the Chapters of the Edict themselves entail. The Edict has been described by the great Anglo-Saxon historian Patrick Wormald as being the greatest single legislative act issued by a north European king before Edward I. Janet Nelson, whose biography of Charles the Bald is still the definitive work on the Carolingian monarch despite it being over thirty-years-old, describes the Edict as the most remarkable piece of public legislation between Justinian’s Novels (sixth century) and the twelfth century. And such assessments by modern academics really do bear out. The scope of the edict is huge in terms of all the different areas of government policy-making it covers, and the provisions it makes are incredibly ambitious.

The structure of the edict goes:'

The structure of the edict goes:

·         Preamble

·         Chapters 1 – 7: provisions concerning public order and the keeping of the peace.

·         Chapters 8 – 24: provisions concerning the reform of the coinage.

·         Chapters 25 – 27: provisions concerning the defence of the realm and the reform of conscription and military service.

·         Chapters 28 – 31: provisions concerning the regulation of the rural economy – taxation, rent, labour services, the land market and peasant migration.

·         Chapters 32 – 34: provisions concerning specific issues that were brought up in the royal assembly at Pitres.

·         Chapters 35 – 36: provisions concerning the communication and enforcement of the Edict in the localities.

·         Chapter 37: provision concerning the royal lodge by the Seine and final exhortation for the king’s subjects to defend the realm against the Viking threat. 

A short(ish) chapter-by-chapter paraphrase of the provisions of the edict now follows:

1.       Counts and other lay men may not appropriate church property for themselves – it’s the job of bishops and abbots to police the counts on this while the counts police other lay men; for offenders a policy of two strikes and then you’re out applies.

2.       Anyone who assaults widows, orphans, priests, monks and nuns, and any landowner who tries to evict a priest, charge rent on a holiday or on church properties granted exemption from it or refuses to pay rent on lands held from churches, will be thoroughly investigated by the counts and other royal officials and will have harsh justice served to them according to legislation issued in the reigns of Charlemagne and Louis the Pious. Likewise, bishops can prescribe penance or excommunication to lawbreakers.

3.       All free men in the kingdom are obliged by sacred oath to maintain the public peace, and it’s the job of bishops, counts and other royal officials in the localities to police them and bring offenders to the king’s attention.

4.       The vassals of the king and queen shall be treated with all due respect by the counts, just as they would expect not to be mistreated by the king and his entourage.

5.       Counts must ensure that royal estates and monastic lands under royal protection that lie within their administrative districts are treated as inviolate. They also must respect the king’s choices of estate managers and guarantee their safety.

6.       Free men living in lands ravaged by the Vikings, who have thus turned to banditry to make up for their loss of homes, farmland, slaves and moveable wealth, shall be summoned to the public law courts by a local count. If they refuse then whatever remains of their property in their home county shall be seized by the state and they shall be outlawed.

7.       Men who operate as bandits outside their administrative district from which they hail shall be reported by the count responsible for the county in which they are operating to the count responsible for their home county. They shall then work together to track down and arrest the criminals in question.

8.       Unadulterated denarii (silver coins) of the correct weight from any mint are legal tender in every part of the kingdom until St Martin’s Day (11 November). All towns and villages across the kingdom, even if they are ecclesiastical properties that are legally immune from the normal jurisdiction of the king’s officials, will have local residents appointed as judges. Together they will work with the counts, other royal officers and major landowners in the area to ensure that good denarii are not rejected in financial transactions, and that denarii that are of incorrect weight/ are not of pure silver are prohibited.

9.       These ordinary free men chosen as local judges for the coinage, must swear an oath that they will perform the duties that the role entails to the best of their knowledge and abilities, and in good faith. Any man they know to have refused an adulterated denarius of correct weight, they must bring to the attention of the count and other officers of the state in the localities. If they fail to do this and are convicted, they will be punished as a perjurer under secular law and will also be prescribed an appropriate penance under ecclesiastical law.

10.   After St Martin’s Day (11 November 864), only the new, reformed silver coinage will be accepted. Anyone who tries trading with an old denarius will have the coins will have it confiscated from him by the count and his subordinate officials.

11.   Coins of the new, reformed type will look like this: on one side they will have the king’s name written in a circle and the monogram of the Carolingian dynasty in the middle; on the other side, they will have the name of the place where the coin was minted written in the circle and in the middle the symbol of the cross.

12.   Coins may only be minted at ten sites in the kingdom, all under the tight supervision of the king’s officials – Quentovic, Compiegne, Rouen, Paris, Rheims, Sens, Orleans, Chalon-sur-Saone, Melle and Narbonne.

13.   In each of these ten royally-approved sites for mints, the locals shall choose an honest and reliable moneyer. Moneyers shall swear an oath to do their duty to the best of their knowledge and ability and in good faith. If a moneyer is believed to have minted adulterated or underweight denarii, or to have engaged in fraudulent practices in the weighing or purifying of the silver, he will be subjected to trial by ordeal. If thereby found guilty, he will have one of his hands amputated and will be prescribed the penance appropriate for blasphemers and robbers of the poor by the local bishop. Those living in Aquitaine will be sentenced according to Roman law.

14.   On 1 July, every count from each of the ten districts allowed to have mints will come to the town of Senlis with his viscount, two substantial landowners/ slave masters from the region and the resident moneyer. There, they will be given five pounds of pure silver from the royal treasury so that they can begin minting coins. And on the Saturday before the beginning of Lent the next year, they shall bring five pounds of denarii to the king’s officers at Senlis.

15.   All men in the kingdom will be able to have their old denarii exchanged for the new coinage after 1 July, having been informed that after 11 November only the new coinage will be legal tender. Any man who rejects an unadulterated denarius of the new coinage of the new coinage after 1 July will have to pay a fine of sixty solidi (720 denarii or three pounds of silver), and any slave/ serf who rejects it will be given sixty lashes with a birch. The local bishop and the officers of the state will ensure that the punishment is not excessive. Any landlord or slave master who doesn’t let his slaves or serfs be punished for the aforementioned offence will be obliged to pay a fine of sixty solidi.

16.   After 1 July, if any man discovers a denarius of the new coinage that has been adulterated, he must perform a citizen’s arrest on the man who offered it to him during trading and interrogate him as to who he got it from, and this shall then pass from hand to hand until the original moneyer has been traced. As before, any moneyer who mints underweight or adulterated coinage will in Aquitaine be punished according to Roman law, and in the northern half of the kingdom and Burgundy will be punished by having his hand amputated. Anyone caught accepting an underweight or unadulterated denarius will pay a fine of sixty solidi if he is a free man, or given sixty lashes with a birch if he is a slave or a serf.

17.   Counts and other officers of the state will ensure that no one in their administrative districts tries forging coins or setting up their own private mints. Anyone caught doing this will have his hand amputated.

18.   If a forger flees to a royal estate, he will be searched for and arrested by the officers of the state. If he hides in lands belonging to churches or magnates that are protected by a legal immunity, the landowner is obliged to hand him over to the officers of the state for punishment as they would do for robbers and murderers. Any landowner who harbours a forger shall be fined 15 solidi if he refuses to hand him over at the first request, 30 solidi at the second, and full compensation for all the damages (600 solidi) combined with the count and his men coming over and forcing him to hand over the fugitive at the third. Any landowner who resists the count coming to arrest the forger will be fined 600 solidi.

19.   To facilitate the reform and regulation of the coinage as outlined above, every count shall be obliged to make a survey of all the markets in his county. They must be able to report back to the king’s court which markets in their county were created in the time of Charlemagne, which were created in the time of Louis the Pious with his authorisation, which were created in the time of Louis the Pious without his authorisation and which came into being during the reign of the present monarch. They must also find out which markets have moved location since they were created, and by whose authority this has taken place. Every count shall bring the surveys to the next annual assembly, and the king and his advisers shall determine which markets are useful and can remain and which ones are superfluous and shall be abolished. And no markets may be held on Sundays.

20.   Counts and other officers of the state must ensure that fixed weights and measures are used in all transactions, so that landlords may not claim more than they are rightfully entitled to by custom from their tenants in rent, and traders may not sell their customers short. Anyone found guilty of this will have the goods they measured dishonestly confiscated and be fined sixty solidi if they are a free man, and given sixty lashes with a birch if they are a serf or a slave, and they will receive appropriate penalties from the bishops as well. But if any counts or other officers of state unjustly confiscate goods from free men, serfs or slaves on the false pretence that they had used dishonest measurements, they shall be punished for miscarriage of justice in the same way as any official who abuses their powers. Anyone responsible for ensuring that correct weights and measures are used who fails in this duty will be punished as a perjurer.

21.   The fine for the rejection of good denarii has been remitted for the last three years. Now, it will be retroactively reinstated and those who took advantage of that must now make good, to ensure that no one will ever again refuse good denarii. Any landlord who tries to rack up rents/ any merchant who tries to rack up prices in order to fork up the money for the fine will be made to pay compensation to the poor people they have exploited this way and will be punished by the officers of the state, so no one will be tempted to exploit the poor in this way again.

22.   Unfree peasants who have been flogged for refusing good denarii should not be forced to pay fines, and if they have been fined in the past, they’ll be given due compensation. Any free man who owns allodial lands or benefices (lands granted by the crown for life) in multiple counties, but cannot fork out enough to pay the fine then the officers of the state may exercise discretion as to what is a fair punishment that will not just unjustly burden him – the aim is encouraging law-abiding behaviour for the common good, not the state’s representatives enriching themselves. Likewise, the officers of the state can be lenient in giving out fines to people who have broken the law unintentionally/ out of ignorance.

23.   Gold and silver alloys are banned. And after St Remigius’ Day (1 October) no one may sell gold and silver except for purification – jewellery is included in this ban. Anyone caught selling alloys or gold and silver jewellery will be immediately arrested and brought before the king’s representatives if they don’t own property or slaves in the county. And if they do, they will be summoned to the law courts. If found guilty, they will be punished accordingly. However, if any officers of the state arrest people carrying away their alloys or gold and silver jewellery to the smith for purification, the officers will be investigated and punished. Any smith caught making gold and silver alloys or jewellery after 1 October will be punished according to Roman law if he lives in Aquitaine, or if he lives in other parts of the kingdom, he will have his hand amputated.

24.   The price of a pound of refined gold is fixed at twelve pounds of pure silver in the new denarii. A pound of gold that has been refined but not enough to make gilt shall be fixed at ten pounds of silver. Any counts and officers of the state must, on pain of being stripped of their offices, ensure that these prices stay fixed. Any man who tries to fraudulently get round this decree will be forced to pay a fine of sixty solidi if is a free man, or will be given sixty lashes if he is an unfree man.

25.   From 1 July, any man caught trying to sell weapons and armour to the Vikings will be executed for treason against the state and betrayal of the Christian faith, without any hope of royal pardon or redemption.

26.   Any free man who owns a horse, or has the means to support one, is obliged to serve in the royal armies. Counts and other officers of the state are thus forbidden from confiscating a free man’s horses without clear justification, since it will prevent him from performing the military service he owes to the state. Any count or other type of royal official caught doing will receive the punishment befitting all government officials who engage in arbitrary and oppressive behaviour in the localities.

27.   The counts must make surveys of how many free men in each county can serve as soldiers in the royal army on their account, how many could serve if a neighbour helped provide them with supplies and equipment, how many could serve if two neighbours were ready to help them out and how many could serve if four neighbours were ready to help them out. The counts should then report back to the royal court how large a squadron of soldiers their county can send to royal army. The remainder, consisting of free men to poor to serve in the royal army even if they clubbed together, should be obliged to build new fortifications, bridges and swamp crossings and perform guard duty in public fortresses and on the border if they live in frontier regions, as it is their duty to defend the patria. Anyone who deserts from the royal army, or fails to show up for muster, shall be fined.

28.   Any free landholder who owes the king poll tax or rent is forbidden to commend themselves to the church or any other lord, lest the state loses what it is rightfully owed. The counts will enforce this. And if the church or any other lord does take such people on, they will be fined. Any free man is allowed to sell or gift his property to whoever he pleases, so long as the state still receives what it is owed by way of rent or tax.

29.   Peasants who live on royal or ecclesiastical estates, who already willingly perform cartage and manual labour on them as is laid out in the polyptychs (estate surveys and records of rents and services owed compiled in the time of Charlemagne and Louis the Pious), must now be willing to cart marl without any argument, even though this is admittedly a recent innovation rather than an ancient custom.

30.   Peasants are now forbidden from selling their hereditary lands on the land market, as it is leading to landlords losing rents and estates becoming fragmented. Counts, other officers of state and priests will be tasked with enforcing this. Any subsequent sale of peasant land that takes place will be revoked, and rents shall be levied on each hereditary holding after the lands belonging to it have been restored in proportion to the quantity and quality of its fields and vineyards.

31.   Each count must make a survey of rural migrants living in his county. Rural migrants who have lived in their new county of residence since the time of Charlemagne or Louis the Pious are permitted to stay. Those who have fled to live in a new county because of recent Viking raids must be sent back by the counts, the bishops and their agents, but they must not blackmail them into doing so. People who have migrated to other regions for seasonal wage labour in the vineyards can continue to do so, so long as they return to the home regions to sow, plough and harvest their landlord’s crops within the allotted times. Any marriages migrants make outside their home region will be dissolved. Runaway slaves will be returned to their masters, and any child of a runaway slave will inherit his mother’s status.

32.   Two counts who share a border must not convene their county courts on the same day, because free landholders who have lands and interests in both counties cannot attend both meetings. They must stay in constant communication – if one count holds the county court on a Monday, the other should hold it on a Thursday, and to make it fair they must alternate each year between who gets to hold their court first.

33.   Anyone who witnesses an oath shall swear his oath 42 days thereafter, unless Lent falls in between, in which case he must wait until eight days after Easter Sunday. Anyone who fails to heed this decree will be fined sixty solidi.

34.   The counts have asked for advice on how to deal with peasants who have sold themselves into slavery/ serfdom because they are doubly burdened by the poll tax and rent to their landlords in times of famine. After further consultation with the bishops and other members of the Christian faithful, and having looked through the Salic law, capitularies, the Bible and the works of the Church Fathers, the king has decreed that throughout the kingdom men should still be allowed to sell themselves into slavery/ serfdom when they are desperate. However, their masters are obliged to care for them and cannot sell them to anyone else. Nor can they claim ownership of any children that the man in question has had with a free woman.

35.   Royal agents will be sent into every county to make sure that all the provisions of the Edict, and all previous capitularies, are being implemented by the counts. And if any counts are found to be negligent or unwilling to implement the royal will in the localities, they will lose their offices and be replaced by more reliable candidates.

3 All archbishops, and the counts of the cities where their metropolitan sees are based, shall receive copies of the Edict of Pitres and previous capitularies from the royal chancery. They will then have them transcribed, so that all the bishops, counts, abbots and royal vassals in their provinces may have a copy of the Edict of Pitres which they can then have read out publicly in all the county courts across the kingdom. And lists will be drawn up by the archbishops and counts of all who have received a copy, which will then be given to the chancellor, so that no one can claim ignorance in disregarding the Edict’s provisions.

Following an incident last year, no one may reside in the royal lodge by the Seine without permission and the guards will ensure that the culprit does not escape without due punishment. All the king’s subjects must be prepared to defend the realm and the Holy Church against the Vikings whenever the need arises for them to do so.

A silver denarius of Charles the Bald minted at Quentovic following the reform of the coinage enacted by the Edict of Pitres

What the mounted militias mentioned in the Edict of Pitres would have looked like: cavalry depicted in the Golden Psalter of St Gall, St Gallen Stiftsbibliothek, Cod Sang 22 p140


Some analysis of mine

The first thing that is so remarkable about the Edict is the sheer range of different areas of government its provisions entail. Basically, you have all the basic functions of a state covered in the provisions here – justice, law enforcement and the maintenance of public order, national defence and military organisation and the collection of government revenues; they’re all there! But not only that, as the Edict attempts to regulate various aspects of economic and social life, as well as thoroughgoing reform of the state-backed currency. The Edict itself very frequently uses the Latin term res publica (normally translated as state, sometimes as commonwealth). It justifies many of its provisions in terms of the benefit of the state (res publica), as distinct from that of either the king as a person or the political community, and regularly appeals to the public good as well, though who that public was varied a lot. The Carolingians clearly saw themselves as something more than just holy warlords with an imperial Roman gloss, and they saw the kingdoms they presided over as something more than just their private property or a network of personal followers (the semi-mythical personenverbandstaat of German historiography). It is also clear from the edict that the Carolingians had a bureaucracy (however skeletal) with defined public duties and mechanisms for holding them to account over failure to perform those duties and abusing their public authority. A monopoly on violence was undoubtedly out of the reach of the Carolingian state – as is explicit from the provisions of the Edict, the Carolingians had no standing army or professional police forces, and had to rely on the close co-operation of local landowners for the maintenance of law and order. And the Edict does also show the importance of the church and appeals to authority to the successful operation of the Carolingian government. But if those last two criteria disqualify Carolingian West Francia, or indeed all other early medieval kingdoms, from being states then very few polities in the whole of human history have been states. Away with the naysayers! In my not even vaguely Weberian view, the West Frankish polity under the Carolingians was a state by any reasonable definition. How powerful and efficient it was is up for debate, but a state it was nonetheless.

Some of the policies outlined in the Edict, like the first seven provisions dealing with law and order (which in some places echo the Edict of Paris issued in 614 by the Merovingian king Chlothar II), are very basic and one really does wonder about their effectiveness. At the same time, they reflect the best methods then available. And while it would be wrong to say that later medieval governments didn’t make improvements on that front, no quantum leaps were made until long after the conventional endpoint of the Middle Ages. Indeed, the system of law enforcement in Georgian England (but not in eighteenth century France, where professional police forces had been introduced) barely differed in its fundamentals from that described in the Edict of Pitres – a small number of unpaid officials working together with local landowners and the wider community.

By contrast, when it comes to the coinage reform, the intricacy and sophistication of the mechanisms put in place for implementing it is phenomenal for an early medieval government. Indeed, reform of the coinage was where the edict was most successful in its impact, setting standards that would remain in place even after the decline of royal power in West Francia in the tenth and early eleventh centuries, up until the thirteenth century. Likewise the reform of the military provides a fairly robust plan for conscripting the yeomanry and other types of modest freeholders into the royal armies – the only alternative to having to rely on the private retinues of landed aristocrats, given that the Carolingian state did not have the resources to maintain a regular army, and one which gives the state direct access to military manpower. The provisions for reforming the military, along with others like the provisions on markets and rural migration, show the extensive use of written surveys and inquiries by the Carolingian state – the Domesday Book of 1086 had a long heritage, and I would argue that the Edict of Pitres and the legacy of Carolingian government more generally is part of it. In addition, provisions attempting to curb peasant migration and rural land markets demonstrate that an economically and socially interventionist state was not a novelty in the fourteenth century, the sixteenth century or the nineteenth century. Furthermore, all the considerations given towards the communication of the Edict down to the localities and the mechanisms for enforcing it/ holding the officers of the state to account show that this wasn’t just the Carolingian court having big ideas that had no real potential to actually change things on the ground. This goes in the face of the more pessimistic interpretations of the Carolingian reforms, based around the work of Francois Louis Ganshof, Louis Halphen, Heinrich Fichtenau and John Michael Wallace-Hadrill, that dominated the scholarly landscape from the 1940s to the 1980s. Finally, the fact that all of this was introduced in the wake of the Viking threat, invites comparison between Charles the Bald’s administrative reforms and those that Alfred the Great and his successors introduced in Wessex/ England in the struggle against the Scandinavians. After all, lets not forget that Judith, the second wife of Aethelwulf of Wessex and stepmother to Alfred the Great, was the daughter of Charles the Bald. So comparisons between Francia and Anglo-Saxon England are more than appropriate considering their contacts with each other.

The standards set by the Edict of Pitres really did endure for centuries. Here is a silver denarius of Count Fulk V of Anjou, the grandfather of Henry II, minted sometime between 1109 and 1129, when he left his county to become King of Jerusalem. The only difference between this coin and the coins of Charles the Bald post-864 is that the monogram in the middle of the obverse side is no longer recognisably that of the Carolingians (who had gone extinct by that point), and it definitely can't have been minted at one of the ten approved and centrally controlled royal mints mentioned in the Edict.


The most famous bit (among medievalists anyway) at the very end

In the appendix, one of the three provisions there reads (all credit must be given to Simon Coupland, whose translation of the Edict I have used and which you can read in full here  https://www.academia.edu/6680741/The_Edict_of_P%C3%AEtres_translation):

“And it is our wish and express command that if anyone has built castles (castella), fortifications or palisades at this time without our permission, such fortifications shall be demolished by the beginning of August, since those who live nearby have been suffering many difficulties and robberies as a result. And if anyone is unwilling to demolish them, then the counts in whose districts they have been built shall destroy them. And if anyone tries to stop them, they shall be sure to let us know at once. And if they neglect to implement this our command, they shall know that, as it is written in these chapters and in the capitularies of our predecessors, we shall look for counts who are willing and able to obey our orders, and appoint them in our districts.”

This is probably the most famous provision of the Edict, despite only being in the Appendix. It is one of the very earliest written sources to mention castles in France or anywhere else in Western Europe – ninth century Carolingian Frankish sources rarely ever speak of them, unlike tenth century ones where they’re much more common and twelfth century ones where they’re completely ubiquitous. It also appears, on the surface at least, that the Carolingians banned the construction of private fortifications and saw them as a nuisance to public order. The Edict of Pitres is thus undoubtedly part of the early history of the European castle. But what part of it? That is something to be explored in another post, so please stay tuned for more.

 

Images of Carolingian castles are extremely hard to come by (but not completely non-existent, as we'll see in a subsequent post), which may say something about the Edict's general effectiveness. This is pushing into what we'd normally consider to be post-Carolingian, but here's one of the earliest artistic depictions of castle-based warfare from the Leiden Maccabees, Universiteitsbibliotheek Leiden, Codex Per F 17 folio 24v.


Friday 29 April 2022

Charles Martel and the battle of Tours: a turning point in world history? A four part series (part the third)

What we've been waiting for ...

Thank you everyone for bearing with me through the previous two posts in which I established the necessary background - I hope you found it worth your while! But now we're finally on to our main man - Charles Martel. 

The battle of Tours depicted in the Grands Chroniques de France, British Library Royal MS 16 G VI.(c.1332 - 1350), commissioned by the future King John II of France. While the artist, based at the royal  abbey of Saint-Denis, doesn't exactly aim for historical accuracy, he at least tries to create a sense of the past by portraying the combatants in armour that would have looked very old-fashioned by the middle third of the fourteenth century - the transition from mail to plate was well underway at this point. Interestingly, the kind of helmets shown could have plausibly been worn in the eighth century.


Charles Martel's rise to power (715 - 724)


If you remember where we finished in part 1, in December 714 Charles' dad, Pepin of Herstal, the mayor of the palace of Austrasia and Duke and Prince of the Franks, had just died. This was not good news for his family, the Pippinids/ Arnulfings (it would be premature to call them the Carolingians just yet). Earlier that year, as we saw in the previous post, Pepin's eldest son Grimoald, the mayor of the palace of Neustria, had been assassinated by a chap called Rantgar while praying at the shrine of Saint Lambert at Liege. In the Book of the History of the Franks of 727, he's referred to as a gentilis, which literally means "pagan." Thus its often assumed that he was an agent sent by Duke Radbod of Frisia (the modern day Netherlands), whom Pepin of Herstal had fought a series of wars with from 689 to 697 and had conquered the important settlements of Dorestad and Utrecht from. The Frisians after all, still followed Germanic paganism. But lets not also forget that Radbod had not only made peace with Pepin, he had also allowed Grimoald to marry his daughter, Thiadsvind. So unless Radbod was a psychotic father-in-law from hell, why would he have done it? Rantgar was a Frankish name as well, and its possible that calling Rantgar a gentilis didn't mean he was a literal pagan. Rather, the author of the Book of the History of the Franks could have been saying that he was morally equivalent to one by committing such a sacrilegious act as murdering someone at a Christian holy site. Indeed, Adhemar of Chabannes, in his account of it written more than three hundred years later, went even further than his source material by calling Rantgar filio Belial, which basically translates to "spawn of Satan." But who Rantgar really was and what was his actual motivate are questions we'll never get the answer to. What is abundantly clear from that episode is that, around the time of Pepin of Herstal's death, the Pippinid family had made many enemies, both within and outside the Merovingian realm, who were waiting for their chance to strike. 

Charles Martel's wicked stepmother? Plectrude as she appears in an early fourteenth century genealogy chart trying to link up the French royal house, the Capetians, to the Carolingians and ultimately the Pippinids.


Pepin left as his heir his 7-year-old grandson Theudoald, the son of Grimoald and Thiadsvind. Theudoald thus became mayor of the palace of both Neustria and Austrasia, with his grandmother Plectrude exercising de facto authority on his behalf. Meanwhile, the reigning king over both Austrasia and Neustria was Dagobert III (r.711 - 715). Meanwhile, Charles Martel and his mother Alpaida were completely excluded from the corridors of power. From the charter evidence, it seems that Charles and Alpaida were not allowed to visit Pepin after he became terminally ill early in 714. And early in 715, Plectrude had Charles imprisoned. This is basically when Charles really enters into the narrative sources - the Book of the History of the Franks (727), the Continuation of Fredegar (751), the Earlier Annals of Metz (806) etc - which are completely silent about his life before then.

The regime, with Dagobert III as the monarch, the child Theudoald as prime minister (still a better one than Boris Johnson, I'm sure) and Plectrude as the effective head of government, managed to cling on for about six months. But after that, resentment towards the Pippinid family became so strong in Neustria that the aristocracy there rebelled. The author of the Earlier Annals of Metz blamed it on Plectrude being too cunning and cruel. There is definitely more than a hint of misogyny in its characterisation of Plectrude, though interestingly there is the possibility that the author of the Annals was based at the convent of Chelles (founded by Balthild who you may remember from part 1), as suggested by Janet Nelson, and therefore was a woman. Paul Fouracre and Richard Gerberding argue this can't be the case on the basis of its misogynistic characterisation of Plectrude, though that seems to me like a bit of a weak argument - internalised sexism does exist after all. Anyway, I suspect that it wasn't specifically Plectrude who was at fault. R ather, what seems to be the case is that the Pippinid/ Arnulfing family that Pepin of Herstal, Grimoald the Younger and Theudoald were from, were deeply resented by the regional elites of Neustria and Burgundy.

Theudoald's forces met with them at Compiegne and were defeated. What happened to Theudoald next is disputed. The Earlier Annals of Metz claims that Theudoald died shortly afterwards. But a Theudoald, described as a nephew of Charles Martel, witnessed a charter issued early in 723 in which Charles made a donation to the basilica in Utrecht. And the Royal Frankish Annals say that a Theudoald died in 741. The author of the Earlier Annals of Metz, written under Charles' grandson Charlemagne and possibly commissioned by his granddaughter Gisela, abbess of Chelles, was clearly trying to justify Charles' later seizure of power by having Theudoald killed off prematurely. 

We do know, however, that Dagobert III was dead no later than 716 and that the Neustrians had appointed a new mayor of the palace for their kingdom - a chap called Ragenfrid. As for who was to succeed Dagobert III as king, the Neustrian aristocracy elected a 43 year old monk called Daniel, the son the assassinated King Childeric II (d.675), as king. He took the royal name of Chilperic II. Daniel had been entrusted as an infant to a monastery for safety following the brutal murder of his father and mother by, guess who ... the Neustrian aristocracy. Ragenfrid, now prime minister of Neustria and possessing the perfect royal figurehead, also made an alliance with Duke Radbod of Frisia, thus enabling him to make a pincer movement on Austrasia and bring that realm under the control of his regime too.

The Merovingian realm at the death of Dagobert III. Map Credit: By Kairom13 - Own work based on Paul Vidal de la Blache's Atlas général d'histoire et de géographie (1912), CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=112316299



Meanwhile, Charles Martel had made a daring and successful escape from prison in Cologne. He was then declared mayor of the palace, seized control of the Austrasian treasury from Plectrude and managed to assemble an armed following. However, luck wasn't quite on his side, as he was immediately caught in the pincer movement, with Ragenfrid and his Neustrian army coming from the west and Radbod with his Frisians from the northeast. Cologne fell to them and Charles had to make yet another daring escape. He hid away in the Eifel mountains, roughly where the border between Belgium and Germany is today, and assembled an army. When Ragenfrid's army was coming through the Eifel mountains on the way back to Neustria early in 716, overladen with plunder Charles Martel successfully ambushed them at river crossing near Amel in the Liege region of Belgium and inflicted a crushing defeat on them. All our sources indicate that the Neustrian army suffered very substantial casualties indeed. Cologne may have been the first time Charles Martel ever saw battle, and he had clearly learned a lot from his mistakes in the short period of time between then Ambleve. Spoiler alert: from Ambleve on, Charles Martel was never defeated in battle. 

Whether we can call Charles Martel a military genius is debatable - unlike with, say, Julius Caesar, Richard the Lionheart, Gustavus Adolphus, Napoleon Bonaparte or George S Patton, the sources give quite terse accounts of his campaigns and don't give much insight to his tactical thinking. But we can, with great confidence, say that he would be among the top five military commanders of the period c.500 - 1000 in western Europe. Some might say that's setting the bar quite low. In conventional military history, this period is the murky interlude between the disappearance of the Roman legions and the beginning of the age of knights and castles. As Guy Halsall points out in "Warfare and Society in the Barbarian West, c.450 - 900" (2003), the best guide to early medieval military history out there, our central problem when studying this period is that western chroniclers in the sixth to ninth centuries tended to give military matters only a passing glance, and are largely silent on how battles were fought. 

Charles Martel then went on the offensive against Ragenfrid and defeated the forces of King Chilperic II and Ragenfrid at the battle of Vincy, fought somewhere near Cambrai in French Flanders, on 21 March 717. His next move, now that his position was more secure with Neustria's military capabilities being greatly reduced after two heavy defeats, was to return to Austrasia and find a credible royal figurehead for him and his supporters to rally around. That royal figurehead, of course, had to be a member of the Merovingian dynasty - Charles couldn't try and pull-off the kind of nonsense his great-uncle Grimoald had tried to do with Childebert III "the Adopted" as you may remember from part 1. Charles readily found one in Chlothar IV, who may have been a son of either Theuderic III (r.673/ 675 - 691) or Childebert IV (r.695 - 711). A royal figurehead was absolutely necessary because no one in government could issue commands that were legitimate and binding, unless they were issued in the name of a reigning king. If Charles Martel tried to rule Austrasia alone without a reigning Merovingian king on his side, he would be seen as a tyrant (tyrannus), someone who exercised political power illegitimately, and anyone who considered themselves a loyal subject of the Merovingians would be obliged to resist him. Elevating Chlothar IV would thus enable him to build-up a bigger army and be able to conquer Neustria.

By 718, Charles Martel was clearly becoming a very serious threat to Chilperic II and Ragenfrid, so they entered into an alliance with Duke Odo of Aquitaine. Aquitaine had basically become a semi-independent principality during the crisis the Merovingian realm went through from 656 to 687. Its elites and the general population still identified as Romans, used Roman law (in the form of the Theodosian Code of 438) as their legal system and Poitiers seems to have been the last city in the Merovingian realm to keep the old Roman civic archive, the gesta muncipalia, going. There was a strong sense of ethnic difference between them and the "Franks" living north of the Loire. The Franks often called these Romans living in the south "Aquitanians" (after the pre-Roman inhabitants of the region) or "Gascons" (after the Basques living in the Pyrenees whom the Dukes of Aquitaine often recruited to bolster their armies), much to the offence of those concerned. In a similar way, westerners from the ninth century would start to refer to the Romans of the still surviving Roman Empire in the East as "Greeks."

Odo of Aquitaine provided them with a large army of Romans and Basques. Yet that didn't stop Chilperic II, Ragenfrid and Odo losing to Charles Martel at Soissons, another place on the eastern edge of Neustria, in the spring of 718, and unlike at Vincy, Charles didn't go home but instead pursued them all the way to Paris. Chilperic, Ragenfrid and Odo then fled down the Seine to Orleans, and from there they escaped over the Loire into Aquitaine, taking the Neustrian royal treasury with them. Charles seems to have secured control of Neustria down to the Seine and the Paris basin pretty quickly. He then went on campaign against the pagan Saxons living east of the Rhine, leading an army 200 km into Saxony, a land where there were no Roman roads. Given that his army had already been down to Orleans earlier that year , they must have marched at least1,300 km in total during the campaigning season of 718. The logistics, knowledge of local conditions and morale necessary for that are a pretty clear sign, in my view, that Charles Martel was a military genius.  Later that year, Chlothar IV died - he had reigned only a year and a half. There was now only one adult male Merovingian left, that being Chilperic II. Charles Martel needed a Merovingian royal backer to remain prime minister of Austrasia, let alone reunite Neustria, Burgundy and Austrasia under his leadership. So he sent envoys to Duke Odo of Aquitaine in 720, made a pact of friendship with him and had Chilperic II handed over to him. Chilperic II was then returned to Neustria and proclaimed king of all the Franks. In the meantime, following the death of Duke Radbod in 719, Charles managed to take back what is now Holland from the Frisians, and fought another campaign against the Saxons in 720. By this point, Charles Martel, now prime minister of a reunified Merovingian realm had really won the civil war - he now had control over the king, the Neustrian royal palaces, the Neustrian treasury and all the key bishoprics and monasteries in Neustria with their extensive landowning and patronage networks, under his control.

In 721, Chilperic II died and Charles Martel was able to install his own Merovingian of choice as king - Theuderic IV, the young son of Dagobert III who had been hidden away in a monastery after his father's death. By the 720s, even the most revisionist historians who fervently oppose the idea of Merovingian royal decline, are willing to concede that the Merovingian kings were now constitutional figureheads, or as the French call them, rather unkindly, "rois faineants (do nothing kings)." Unlike with his grandfather, Childebert IV the Just (r.694 - 711), there are no judgements or political decisions that can be attributed to Theuderic IV. And we have no evidence that Theuderic IV advised Charles Martel on anything, unlike what Queen Elizabeth II is supposed to do when she has her weekly audiences with Boris Johnson. Theuderic IV's activities were relegated to greeting foreign dignitaries and the eighth century equivalents of the Trooping of the Colour, the State Opening of Parliament and cutting a ribbon outside a new leisure centre in Milton Keynes. Southwestern Neustria still held out against Charles. That took some time to subdue, but after the fall of Angers in 724, Ragenfrid finally submitted to Charles. After nine years the civil war was finally over, and no one between the Loire and the Rhine stood in opposition to Charles' authority. No one in 715 could have predicted this. At that time, Charles Martel was languishing in a dungeon in Cologne and possessed no powerbase. How, then, did he do it? Quite simply, it came down Charles' skill as a politician and military leader. Charles Martel fought eight battles in the civil war of 715 - 724 and lost only one, the very first. As Paul Fouracre has shown quite clearly from studying the charter evidence, the more victories Charles Martel won, the more followers he attracted to his side as previously neutral nobles and ecclesiastics realised he was the runner they should be hedging their bets on. With each victory, he also won more treasure to give out as gifts, either to win new followers or keep pre-existing ones close to him. And after 718, he was able to establish his followers in bishoprics, abbacies and counties in Neustria. By this point he would have reached a critical mass in terms of his patronage base, so that any Frankish noble who wanted to be anything more than a local bigwig and obtain wealth from any source other than his landed estates had to declare his support for Charles. He was also, as we have seen, diplomatic and very careful to avoid accusations of being a tyrant and trying to exercise power independently of the Merovingian monarchy. And above all, contemporaries recognised how able and charismatic he was. As the author of the Book of the History of the Franks wrote, no later than 727, Charles was "a warrior was uncommonly well educated and effective in battle", managed to escape from prison with difficulty and "with the help of the Lord", and was "steadfastly unafraid" when faced with formidable opposition from Chilperic II, Ragenfrid and Odo in the spring of 718. Given that its anonymous Neustrian author can't have been a supporter of Charles from the start, and can't have been influenced by the heaps of praise Charles Martel was going to win after 732, these comments from a contemporary strike me as pretty indicative of what lay behind Charles' success up to 724.


Prime Minister Charles on the warpath  

Now Charles Martel was head of government of a reunified Merovingian realm, what was he going to do? One of his policies was to revive the practice of holding an assembly of the Frankish army in the spring followed by a military campaign outside the Merovingian realm in the summer every year. The early Merovingians had done this annually, but since the death of Dagobert I in 639, it had only been practised very irregularly, More than half the time in the subsequent eighty years, either the kings were children or their mayors of the palace were busying themselves in squabbles with rival noble factions. It would have seemed like an obviously good idea for Charles to revive it. The experience of campaigning, and the rewards that came with it, would serve to bind the Frankish political community closer to Charles and to each other. He also needed to make sure that neighbouring realms, which many members of the Frankish nobility had family ties to the elites of, would not harbour fugitives or give support to opponents of his regime, should they arise.

Charles spent 725 - 730 campaigning east of the Rhine against the Saxons. He also campaigned in southern Germany against the Alamans and Bavarians, who nominally accepted Merovingian overlordship but were de facto independent, and managed to get the their dukes to recognise his authority as prime minister of the Merovingian realm.

After 730, Charles began to turn his attentions southwards. Duke Odo of Aquitaine had broken the pact of friendship established ten years earlier. The Continuation of Fredegar gives the impression that Odo was a weak, erratic and cowardly leader, though non-Frankish sources tell a different story. They instead suggest that Odo was a strong leader and a proven commander, who had won some crushing victories over Muslims when they attempted to invade Aquitaine in the 720s, earning him the recognition of Pope Gregory II (r.715 - 731). Indeed, in Pope Gregory's biography, contained in the eighth century Book of the Popes, the extravagant claim was made that at the battle of Toulouse in 725, Odo had killed 375,000 Saracens while losing only 1,500 of his own men. Clearly Odo had quite some skill as a self-publicist. And Odo's principality was also very rich - viticulture had been thriving there since Roman times, and Poitou had very active iron and lead industries in this period. Charles either needed to get Odo firmly on his side or try plunder the wealth of Aquitaine to bolster his resources. He thus led a campaign into Aquitaine in 731, won a battle with Odo and returned with some booty. 

The road to Tours

But an unexpected turn of events was going to change Charles' approach towards Odo, and Odo's approach towards Charles. The Continuation of Fredegar claims that the humiliated Odo called on the Muslims to provide him with military assistance against Charles Martel, only to have them betray him. However, we do have another source at hand, the Chronicle of 754, written in Latin by a Visigoth living under Umayyad rule in Cordoba. Again, this shows Odo in a very different light. It tells us that no later than 731, Odo had his daughter married off to Munnuza, a Berber chieftain in control of Cerdanya in what is now Catalonia, in hope that it would secure his southern border against future Muslim attacks. Odo was no doubt also aware of how the Berber military leaders in Spain were coming to resent the Arab governors in Cordoba and the increasing attempts at centralised control of the Iberian Peninsula from the Umayyad caliphs in distant Damascus. Munnuza rebelled against the Umayyad governor but was defeated and committed suicide. Odo's daughter was then sent to Caliph Hisham (r.724 - 743) in Damascus as gift for his harem. 

In 732, the Umayyad Arab governor of Spain, Abd al-Rahman, led an army north through the Pyrenees to invade Aquitaine. He had two obvious grudges with Odo. The first being that he'd killed his predecessor, Al Sham, at Toulouse in 725, and the second being that he'd given tacit support to Munnuza's rebellion. The campaign seems to have been something between a punitive expedition and plunder raid. Abd al-Rahman defeated Odo in battle at the river Garonne and then marched up to Bordeaux, destroyed the city and exterminated its population. He then came to Poitiers and destroyed the old late Roman basilica of Saint Hillary of Poitiers, one of the greatest Gallo-Roman saints. He then marched along the Roman road northwards to Tours and it was feared that the same fate would befall the basilica and monastery of that other great Gallo-Roman saint, Martin of Tours. This could not be allowed to happen. Odo was left with no choice but to call on the help of Charles Martel. Indeed, Charles must have already been campaigning against Odo in northern Aquitaine that year, given how quickly he answered his call. The Muslim army was intercepted on the road from Poitiers to Tours, hence why it is known as both the battle of Tours and the battle of Poitiers (Anglophones prefer the former, Francophones the latter), and the rest is history.

The battle of Tours

The battle took place on 10 October 732. We do not know the exact location of the battlefield and so we do not know its layout and what sort of terrain they were fighting on. On one side were Charles Martel and Duke Odo with their Frankish and Roman troops (there may have also been a Burgundian contingent). On the other, there was Abd al Rahman, with his army primarily consisting of professional Arab troops he'd brought with him from Yemen and Hijaz back when he was appointed governor of Al-Andalus by Caliph Hisham in 730.

We have two near-contemporary accounts of the battle, both written less than 25 years after it happened - not bad by early medieval standards. Those are the Continuation of Fredegar and the Chronicle of 754. Both are written by people who were in a good position to know what happened. The author of the Continuation of Fredegar was commissioned to write it by Count Childebrand (676 - 751), the brother of Charles Martel. Meanwhile, the Visigoth author of the Chronicle of 754 seems to have been a high-ranking churchman and administrator with ties to the Umayyad court in Cordoba, so he may have personally known some of the Arabs who fought in the battle and heard their accounts of it. 

The Continuation's account is pretty brief:

Prince Charles boldly drew up his battle line against them [the Arabs] and the warrior (belligerator) rushed in (inruit) against them. With Christ's help he overturned their tents, and hastened to battle to grind them small in slaughter. The king Abdirama having been killed, he destroyed [them], driving forth the army he fought and won. Thus did the victor triumph over his enemies

Source of translation: Paul Fouracre, The Age of Charles Martel, Longman (2000). John Michael Wallace Hadrill did a translation of it in his The Fourth Book of Fredegar and its Continuations (1960), but I chose Fouracre's over that one because Hadrill's is verbose and less true to the original Latin text, in some places being misleading.

Basically, what it says is that Charles and his army made a successful headlong charge at the Muslim camp, overwhelmed the enemy, killed Abd al-Rahman and decimated his army. The account appeals to divine favour as one of the reasons for Charles' victory, and as Paul Fouracre has pointed out it does allude a lot to the Old Testament in its choice of Latin words i.e. inruit is found in Chapter 24 of the Book of Numbers, when the Holy Spirit "rushed in" through the tents of the Israelites, and belligerator is used when describing the huge battles in chapters 15 and 16 of the Book of Maccabees. Some have used this account to suggest that mounted shock cavalry were the decisive element in Charles Martel winning the battle of Tours, but that really is reading too much into it - nowhere does the Continuation's account give any indication that Charles' charging troops were mounted rather than on foot.

The Chronicle of 754's account is a great deal more detailed and poetic. It reads:

While Abd ar-Rahman was pursuing Eudes, he decided to despoil Tours by destroying its palaces and burning its churches. There he confronted the consul of Austrasia by the name of Charles, a man who, having proved himself to be warrior from his youth and an expert in things military, had been summoned by Eudes. After each side tormented each other with raids for almost seven days, they finally prepared their battle lines and fought fiercely. The northern peoples remained as immobile as a wall, holding together like a glacier in the cold regions. In the blink of an eye, they annihilated the Arabs with the sword. The people of Austrasia, greater in number of soldiers and formidably armed, killed the king, Abd ar-Rahman, where they found him, striking him on the chest. But suddenly, within the sight of the countless tents of the Arabs, the Franks despicably sheathed their swords, postponing the fight until the next day since night had fallen during the battle. Rising from their own camp at dawn, the Europeans saw the tents and canopies of the Arabs all arranged just as they had the day before. Not knowing that they were empty and thinking that inside them were Saracen forces ready for battle, they sent officers to reconnoitre and discovered that all of the Ishmaelite troops had left. They had indeed fled silently by night in tight formation, returning to their own country. Worried that they would attempt to ambush them, the Europeans were slow to react and thus searched in vain all around. Deciding against pursuing the Saracens, they took the spoils - which they divided fairly amongst themselves - back to their country, and were overjoyed. 

Source of translation: Kenneth Baxter Wolf (ed and trans), Conquerors and Chroniclers of Early Medieval Spain, Liverpool University Press (1999)



"The Northern Peoples remained as immobile as a wall, holding together like a glacier in the cold regions": The Chronicle of 754 seems to describe Charles Martel using the shield wall at the battle of Tours like the one at the Battle of Hastings in 1066 depicted here in the Bayeux Tapestry. Unlike at Hastings, however, it worked because Charles Martel, unlike Harold Godwinson, was cautious and did not break the formation until he knew the time was right.

We can immediately huge differences between the two accounts. Not only is the Chronicle of 754's obviously longer and more detailed than the Continuation of Fredegar's, it attributes a fundamentally different battle-plan. Rather than suggesting that Charles was on the offensive, it says that Charles's army fought defensively in the shield-wall formation, managing to cut down wave upon wave of Arab troops and kill their commander in chief while not leaving their positions. Rather than coming across as a bold heroic figure confident that God would grant him victory, Charles Martel comes across as a much more cautious and thoughtful commander. As an interesting detail, the Chronicle of 754 describes skirmishing taking place between the two armies before the battle. It is also the very first source to use the term "Europeans", and there is a case to be had that its in the eighth and ninth centuries, especially under Charles Martel's descendants, the Carolingians, that "Europe" stops being simply a geographical expression like it had been to the ancient Greeks and Romans, and starts to be thought of as a cultural entity.

In my view, its the Chronicle of 754's account that gives us the best, most accurate view of what happened. Its perspective is unique and remarkably even-handed, coming from a Christian Visigoth living under Muslim rule. By contrast, the Continuation of Fredegar is simply too triumphalist, being written to demonstrate that the hand of God was behind the rise of the Carolingians, and so neglects most of the actual military aspects of the battle and produces a very distorted account.


Aftermath

After Charles Martel's victory at Tours, the Aquitanians acknowledged his overlordship. Muslim incursions into Gaul did not end. In 735, the new Umayyad governor of Spain, Uqba ibn al-Hajjaj, led an army through Muslim-controlled Septimania, conquered Provence and raided Burgundy. Charles Martel managed to wrestle Provence back off him, winning crushing victories at the sieges of Avignon and Nimes. But his attempt at conquering Septimania was ultimately unsuccessful. While he defeated the Arabs in open battle at the river Berre, the siege of Narbonne came in 737 to nothing after Charles Martel realised that the resistance from both the Muslim Arab garrison and the Christian Visigothic citizenry was simply too great for it to be worth the trouble.

Meanwhile, in the wake of his great victory over the Muslims, Charles hold over Francia had grown yet stronger. In 737, King Theuderic IV died, yet Charles didn't hastily find another Merovingian to succeed him. Instead, in his capacity as Prime Minister, he ruled as de facto sovereign head of state of the Frankish kingdom for four years until his death in 741. It is a real testament to Charles' personal authority and reputation as a statesman and military commander that he could pull it off. This is because as soon as his sons, Pepin the Short and Carloman, succeeded him as joint mayors of the palace/ co-prime ministers, they installed the last surviving male Merovingian, Childeric III, whose father was either Chilperic II or Theuderic IV, as king. Little did Childeric know that he was going to be the last - ten years down the line he was going to be deposed, in order to make way to a new dynasty, the Carolingians.

Here Charles Martel is depicted holding audience with a petitioner in the Grand Chroniques de France (c.1375). Its both ironic and revealing, in terms of how he was remembered centuries later, that Charles Martel is shown wearing a crown and holding a sceptre - he was never a king (though his son Pepin would become one) but the artist, with hindsight, thought he might as well have been one.



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...