Chapter 4
In This Chapter
● Getting to grips with early medieval France and Germany
● Investigating the Merovingian world
● Climbing to power with the Carolingians
During the first few centuries following the fall of the Roman Empire in the year 476, nearly all the European territories experienced new rulers and big population movements. In Central Europe - the old Roman province of Gaul and home to modern-day France and Germany - large sections of territory gradually came under the control of the Franks (turn to Chapter 2 for more details), who had recently converted to Christianity.
Over the next few centuries, Frankish domination increased under two dynasties - the Merovingians and Carolingians. In this chapter I explore the people who made up these dynasties and how they rose to power.
The period that I cover in this chapter is a difficult one for modern historians to write about because of the large gaps in knowledge, one of the reasons that it has often been referred to as ‘The Dark Ages’, but researchers have put together a framework that explains how one family came to rule half of Europe. So here goes!
Making Major Moves: The Merovingians
The Merovingians were descended from a people called the Salian Franks, who had lived in the area that now forms the modern-day, south Netherlands, to the north of the river Rhine. During the fifth century, they moved westwards and began to establish themselves in what is modern-day France, as Figure 4-1 shows. Merovingian history is quite difficult to trace because they were always falling out with and fighting each other in civil wars - a reflection of their origins as a tribal people. Nevertheless they still managed to hold on to power in this area until the middle of the eighth century.
Figure 4-1: The Frankish Kingdoms 511-751
Merovingian is a wonderful word, and it seems to have come from a man called Merovech who first led these people on their journey west in the early fifth century. He was the grandfather of Clovis, who was the first to establish rule and also adopt Christianity (flip to Chapter 2 for more details on Clovis). Historians don’t really know anything about Merovech himself; he’s one of those almost mythical figures who were quite common during the Dark Ages, but a real historical figure would have existed.
The term Merovingian is strictly appropriate only to describe the ruling class of this people. Historians typically refer to the people in general as Franks. At the time, they were also known as the ‘long-haired’ Franks because of their fashion for wearing hair over the collar, which was notably different from their Roman predecessors.
Amassing land
The Merovingians made fast work of adding to their territory. When Clovis I died in 511, they had gained control of the whole of the old Roman province of Gaul except Burgundy, and by the middle of the sixth century, they had added the Provence region to their territory.
During this time the Frankish lands were divided into two distinct territories:
● To the east was Austrasia (East Land), which incorporated eastern France, Germany, Belgium and southern The Netherlands.
● To the west was Neustria (West Land), which incorporated the majority of the west of France.
At various points territories broke away or tried to separate, but these attempts never succeeded. Austrasia and Neustria lasted throughout the Merovingian period.
Squabbling constantly
The Merovingians managed to conquer a great deal of territory, but ruling it successfully became more of a problem because they were unable to stop fighting each other.
Descendants of Clovis and their sons ruled all the territory, but wars between the relatives were pretty much constant. Brief periods of unity were immediately followed by civil war when a ruler died, due to the fact that his territory would be split between his sons. The normal tradition seems to have been to fight your brothers on an annual basis and because all the rulers came from the same family, grievances and the desire for vengeance lasted through generations. Family dinners must have been fun!
Bad, bad Brunhilda
One of the biggest causes of discontent in the Merovingian world was a woman called Brunhilda, who lived from around 543 to 613. Her life is too eventful even for a feature film - it would require a mini-series! She's a fascinating character and a great example of how treacherous the Merovingian kingdoms were.
Brunhilda was a Visigoth princess who grew up in the Visigoth kingdom in Spain. She married King Sigebert I of Austrasia and was the first foreign noble to marry a Merovingian. Sigebert's brother Chilperic obviously liked the idea because he married Brunhilda's sister Galswintha, who was murdered within a year, probably by Chilperic and his mistress.
Brunhilda was devastated at her sister's death and persuaded Sigebert to go to war with Chilperic over it. Sigebert won the war but was soon assassinated by his brother's agents, and Brunhilda was captured and imprisoned in Rouen. Despite her imprisonment, she had clearly maintained her ability to bewitch Merovingian men because shortly afterwards she married Merovech (not the semi-legendary figure who gave his name to the Merovingians), the son of her bitter enemy Chilperic! The two immediately set about planning to make Merovech king. As a result Chilperic declared the marriage invalid and forced his son to go into a monastery. Merovech went on the run and ended up committing suicide.
Meanwhile, Brunhilda seized the throne of Austrasia for herself, claiming that she was acting as regent for her eldest son from her first marriage! Over the next 30 years, the regencies and murders continued furiously as Brunhilda continued to manipulate all sorts of Merovingian men into doing what she wanted and even led troops into battle herself.
Brunhilda was eventually captured in the year 613 by a king called Clotaire II, who became sole ruler of the Merovingian kingdoms. She was put on trial and accused of the murder of ten Merovingian kings. This number was pushing it a bit, but probably not too far off the mark! She was convicted and punished by being torn apart between two charging horses as a symbol of how her acts had ripped the kingdoms apart.
Constant war between the kings came at a tremendous cost. The competing Merovingians were always campaigning for the support of the nobility, which made the nobility extremely powerful and weakened the royal line. Most historians agree that the last truly independent Merovingian king was Dagobert I, who died in 639.
In the period that followed, the kings became more like ceremonial figures, with the real power residing with their barons, nobles and generals. New positions of power developed, most importantly the role of ‘Mayor of the Palace’ - a chief administrator to the Merovingian king who effectively controlled the kingdom (see the later section ‘Making the most of the mayor’). Under these circumstances, a whole new line of rulers developed - the Carolingians. I talk about how this transition happened in the later section ‘Rising to Power: The Carolingians’.
Pondering Merovingian power
The Merovingian period didn’t last very long, only a couple of centuries, but it was still rich and interesting. After all, they were the first people to come to power in mainland Europe after the fall of the Roman Empire, which meant that they were effectively starting with a blank canvas.
Absolute power?
The Merovingians were originally a tribal people, a fact that shows in the way they organised their society. The king, like a tribal chief, was an absolute ruler with total authority. All territory and wealth that was gained was also his, which is one of the reasons why people were so keen to try and set themselves up as king!
Kings were able to nominate their successors and transfer all territory and property to their children. Of course, these decisions were rarely respected and civil war was usually the result. But the Merovingians placed the bloodline and relationship to the throne above any other quality.
The Merovingian kings also kept themselves apart from the administration of their kingdom, as I discuss in the following section. In this way they resembled the Byzantine emperors (check out Chapter 2 for more details on these rulers), detached from ordinary people and seen as being closer to God (also see the later sidebar ‘Kings after death’).
Replacing the Romans: The rise of comites
The fact that Merovingian kings kept themselves separate from the administration of their kingdoms meant that they needed an aristocratic class to run them. The Merovingian Empire was massive, covering a huge landmass. Under the Romans, it had been run and organised by a combination of the civil service, the army and the Church - and so the leadership and management gap was enormous.
The Merovingian solution was to create a whole new class of people to carry out the administration of the kingdoms. These people were given the title of comites (counts), an old Roman military term. Their roles were incredibly wide-ranging and included collecting taxes, organising the courts and justice, and even recruiting and administering the army.
Over time the comites grew into incredibly powerful and influential people. The Merovingian kings could make as many decisions as they liked, but they were unable to implement any of them without the comites.
Kings after death
The Merovingians converted to Christianity during the sixth century, and their faith added a great deal to their mystique. Merovingian money and patronage was responsible for the Christian faith spreading throughout Austrasia, Neustria and beyond. Many Merovingian kings founded churches and monasteries, and a number of them were subsequently made into saints. These new saints were immensely popular in their local areas, and as a result cults arose that were devoted to them. These cults also meant that many of the ensuing civil wars also took on regional and religious elements.
Hagiography (the writing of saints' lives) was the most popular form of Merovingian literature, and it usually emphasised the healing powers that the tombs of the saints possessed. Accordingly the tombs of the Merovingian kings became the first real pilgrimage sites of the Medieval World. The Merovingians may not have been interested in administering their kingdoms, but they did manage to generate a tourism industry!
Rising to Power: The Carolingians
During the eighth century something significant changed in the Frankish world. Gradually, year on year, the practical power of the Merovingian king became less and less, while that of his advisors grew (as I relate in the earlier section ‘Pondering Merovingian power’). Within 100 years the Merovingian royal line had ceased to exist, and a new and more powerful family were running the Frankish Empire - the Carolingians.
The Carolingians didn’t just come out of nowhere. They had always been an important aristocratic family in the Frankish world. Their name in medieval Latin was kairolingi, meaning ‘the descendants of Charles’. The Charles in question was Charles Martell (c. 688-741) (turn to the later section ‘Hammering the Merovingians: Charles Martell’ for more on Charles).
Making the most of the mayor
For generations the Carolingians had been a part of the Merovingian administration, holding powerful posts as comites and dealing with financial and military matters (the earlier section ‘Replacing the Romans: The rise of comites’ talks more about comites). During the eighth century, they got their hands on the most powerful job of all.
The key position that enabled the Carolingians to ascend to power was that of Mayor of the Palace, known in Latin as major domus from which the term ‘major-domo’ derives. Although this title may not sound like much, almost like some kind of butler, Mayor of the Palace was the lynchpin position in the old Merovingian kingdoms:
● The Mayor controlled access to the king and anyone wanting to speak with the king had to go through the Mayor of the Palace.
● The Mayor was the key decision maker on policy. All the comites in charge of finance, justice and the army reported to him.
Simply put, the Mayor was the power behind the throne and the man who kept the kingdom running. The wide-ranging power of the Mayor was one of the main reasons why the king was seen as a rather ethereal, mystical figure.
Running in the family
During the late seventh and early eighth centuries, one family came to dominate the position of Mayor in Austrasia. At the time this family was known as the ‘Pippinids’, because most men in the family took the name Pippin. For the best part of a century, fathers and sons of the Pippinid clan took the role of Mayor and handed it on, massively building up their power base as they did so, and eventually granting themselves the title of Duke. This title came from dux, an old Roman title that had been used to confer widespread military powers. In adopting this title, the mayors were claiming total command of the military in the Merovingian kingdom.
Everything changed in 714 when the serving Mayor, Duke Pippin II, died without a legitimate heir. Instead, power was passed to an illegitimate son born to him by a concubine. The child’s name was Charles Martell.
Hammering the Merovingians: Charles Martell
Charles Martell was an amazing success as Mayor of Austrasia. Like those before him, he assumed the title Duke of the Franks and proved to be an incredibly successful general - so successful that he earned the nickname of ‘The Hammer’. He’s reputed to have lost only one battle and is probably most famous for defeating a large Muslim army at the Battle of Tours in 732, a victory you can read about in Chapter 7.
Tearing up at Tertry
One of the first events that showed how powerful the Mayors had become was the battle of Tertry in the year 687. The battle in the Somme region of the north of France was the climax of a brief civil war between Neustria and Austrasia and their respective Mayors. The conflict took place despite the fact that a Merovingian king, Theuderic III, was still in power.
The Austrasian Mayor was called Pippin of Herstal (see the following section 'Running in the family'), who defeated his Neustrian counterpart Berthar and replaced him as Mayor with one of his own supporters. This appointment increased the power of the Austrasian Mayor and also diminished the influence of the king.
Charles didn’t have things easy to begin with. Within a year of assuming his father’s title, he was challenged as Mayor of Austrasia by a pretender from Neustria called Ragenfrid: a three-year civil war followed. Charles won it comfortably, but showed mercy to his enemies. He also unified both Austrasia and Neustria under his control.
By this point Charles was effectively the absolute ruler of the Frankish world. A Merovingian king was still in place, but the position had become purely ceremonial. The armies were at the command of Charles, which meant that he was in charge. He used his power to expand Frankish interests and territory by fighting a series of successful foreign wars to the east and west, as well as into Saxon territory in the north. Charles carried out this expansion while still claiming only the title of Duke of the Franks.
After the Battle of Tours, fought against the Muslims in 732, Charles continued with his campaigning up until 737 when the Merovingian king, Theuderic IV, died without an obvious successor. Charles didn’t grab the throne, however, and instead it lay vacant. Although the fact that Charles didn’t grasp such an obvious opportunity to make himself king seems strange, he already had all the power he needed.
Playing with power after Charles: Pippin
When Charles died in 741, he was able to divide up the Frankish lands as if he were a king and give them to his sons. He split the kingdom in two, giving Austrasia to his elder son Carloman and Neustria to his other son Pippin. Each son also took the title of Mayor of the Palace in their respective kingdoms.
Usually such a split between brothers meant a civil war in the making, but this time things didn’t work out like that. Not to say that everything was hunky-dory; the brothers did have another half-brother called Grifo, who was immediately imprisoned when they took power. That’s the way to do it!
Working as a puppet master
When the brothers took power, the position of Merovingian king was vacant. One of Carloman’s first acts was to nominate a Merovingian noble called Childeric to take the throne. Shortly afterwards, in 747, Carloman decided to abdicate and spend the rest of his days in a monastery.
All this manoeuvring was doubtless down to Pippin III. He’s often known as Pippin ‘The Short’. We don’t know if he was unusually small but if so he certainly made up for his lack of stature with his impact on history.
Pippin was now the sole Mayor and also kept the title Duke of the Franks. To make him look even more legitimate, Pippin retained Childeric on the throne, but the people considered that a king who owed his very existence to Pippin and Carloman was a bit of a joke. Pippin was now in total control of the Franks and he made the most of it.
Making the case for king
Understanding the mind of Pippin and his motivations is almost impossible, but most historians believe that even before he took power he was determined to become the first Carolingian king. His actions certainly bear this idea out.
After he was in supreme power in Austrasia and Neustria, Pippin began his campaign to become king. His first act was to write to Pope Zachary, asking him who he felt truly held royal power in the Frankish lands. This question was a tricky one for the pope; he was aware that he may well need the help of the Frankish king in the near future. The Lombards in northern Italy were making claims for some of the papal estates there, and the pope would need some military support to stop them. With this situation in mind, Zachary replied that the man with real power not also having royal power seemed unusual - he was basically giving Pippin approval to make himself king.
Pippin didn’t hang around and announced that at present the throne was vacant. Instead of declaring himself king, he summoned a council of Frankish nobles and comites in the year 751 and asked them to elect a king. Whether any other candidates were involved is unclear, but historians do know that Pippin’s army was present to encourage people to make the correct choice!
The Archbishop of Mainz crowned Pippin at the town of Soissons in 751. His coronation set an important precedent - a group of nobles who were technically in competition with him elected him king of the Franks. This important principle stayed in place for generations, all the way through the medieval period, and showed that the king of the Franks represented real military and political power. This selection process was a world away from the old Merovingian system of quasi-mystical rulers.
Pippin’s coronation was recorded in a contemporary chronicle as follows:
751 - In this year Pipin was named king of the Franks with the sanction of the pope, and in the city of Soissons he was anointed with the holy oil by the hands of Boniface, archbishop and martyr of blessed memory, and was raised to the throne after the custom of the Franks. But Childerich, who had the name of king, was shorn of his locks and sent into a monastery.
Expanding the realm
Pippin made great use of his new power and set about securing the borders and expanding the territory of what had now officially become his kingdom. His first efforts were directed at northern Italy and the Lombards. He owed the papacy a favour for their support of him, and he didn’t forget it. Attacking the Lombards paid further dividends for him when Pope Stephen II awarded him another title - Patrician of the Romans, which effectively made him the official military protector of the papacy and Christian interests in Europe. This title was really the first step on the way to becoming Holy Roman Emperor, which Pippin’s son Charles achieved in the year 800 (check out Chapter 5 for more on the man who would become Charlemagne).
Pippin took his responsibilities seriously and carried on the work of Charles Martell with campaigns against the Islamic armies in Spain and southwest France. He drove them out of the Narbonne region in 759 and as a result was able to add Aquitaine to the growing Carolingian Empire. By the time of his death, nearly all modern-day France was under his control.
Popping off and positioning Charlemagne
Pippin died in 768, aged 54, having fallen ill on campaign. As the first Frankish king, the arrangements for his succession set a precedent. He’d stated that the old Salic Law (the law of the Salian Franks) would apply, so his territories were divided between his two sons, Charles and Carloman. Whilst the Merovingians had always divided inheritance like this, Pippin as the first Carolingian king was setting a new precedent that would have far-reaching consequences for the development of Europe (see Chapter 6).
Within 50 years his eldest son, Charles, had taken things even further, being crowned Holy Roman Emperor and extending the borders of Frankish territory far beyond what Clovis and the early Merovingian kings would have believed possible (you can follow the rise of Charles in Chapter 5).
None of that would have been achieved without Pippin. The Carolingian line went on to rule as kings and emperors until 1122. Not bad for a little guy!
One dodgy document
The period of negotiation between Pippin and Pope Stephen II saw the emergence of one of the most infamous documents in history. The 'Donation of Constantine' was alleged to have been an imperial decree written by the Roman Emperor Constantine I (272-337). In the document, Constantine (who resided in Constantinople) gave control of a large portion of territory in the Roman west to the pope - in particular, lands in Italy and the city of Rome itself. Pope Stephen would have used this decree to help convince Pippin to give the lands he won from the Lombards back to the papacy, which Pippin did, as he was effectively just restoring them to their previous owner. These lands then brought huge revenues to the papacy for the next 1,000 years.
The only problem? The Donation of Constantine was a fake! Even then, people were suspicious of the sudden emergence of such a useful 400-year-old document. By the Renaissance, various people had been recorded as saying that the document was both a fake and the main reason why the papacy had become so corrupt (Chapter 19 has more on this period in papal history).
Modern historians pretty much universally agree that the document was faked, but as to when and by whom they are at a loss. Wherever it came from, the document did its job; Pippin gave the lands back to the papacy, and an important precedent was established.