Feudal France and Hugh Capet pt 2

Hugh Capet
1 follower
1 Video View·Oct 15, 2023
CHAPTER XIII. FUTILE FRANCE AND HUE-CAPAY, PART II.
From the end of the ninth to the end of the tenth century, two families were, in French
history, the representatives and instruments of the two systems thus confronted and conflicting
at that epoch—the imperial, which was falling, and the feudal, which was rising. After the
death of Charlemagne, his descendants, to the number of ten, from Louis the debonair
to Louis the sluggard, strove obstinately, but in vain, to maintain the unity of the
empire and the unity of the central power. In four generations, on the other hand, the
descendants of Robert the Strong climbed to the head of feudal France. The former,
though German in race, were imbued with the maxims, the traditions, and the pretensions
of that Roman world, which had been, for a while, resuscitated by their glorious ancestor,
and they claimed it as their heritage. The latter preserved, at their settlement upon
gallow Roman territory, Germanic sentiments, manners, and instincts, and were occupied
only with the idea of getting more and more settled, and greater and greater in the new
society which was little by little being formed upon the soil, won by the barbarians,
their forefathers. Louis the ultramarine and Lothaire were not, we may suppose, less personally
brave than Robert the Strong and his son Eudes. But when the Northmen put the Frankish dominions
in peril, it was not to the descendants of Charlemagne, not to the emperor Charles the
Fat, but to the local and feudal chieftain, to Eudes, Count of Paris, that the population
turned for salvation, and Eudes it was who saved them.
In this painful parturition of French monarchy, one fact deserves to be remarked, and that
is, the lasting respect attached, in the minds of the people, to the name and the reminiscences
of the Caerlovingian rule, notwithstanding its decay. It was not alone the luster of
that name, and of the memory of Charlemagne which inspired and prolonged this respect.
A certain instinctive feeling about the worth of hereditary monarchy, as an element of stability
and order, already existed amongst the populations, and glimpses thereof were visible amongst
the rivals of the royal family in the hour of its dissolution. It had been consecrated
by religion, the title of anointed of the most high was united, in its case, to that
of lawful heir. Why did Hugh the Great, Duke of France, in spite of favorable opportunities
and very palpable temptations, abstain perseveringly from taking the crown, and leave it tottering
upon the heads of Louis the Ultramarine and Lothaire? Why did his son, Hugh Capet himself,
wait for his election as king, until Louis the Sluggard was dead, and the Caerlovingian
line had only a collateral and discredited representative? In these hesitations and lingerings
of the great feudal chieftains, there is a forecast of the authority already vested in
the principle of hereditary monarchy, at the very moment when it was about to be violated,
and of the great part which would be played by that principle in the history of France.
At last the day of decision arrived for Hugh Capet. There is nothing to show that he had
conspired to hasten it, but he had foreseen the probability of it, and, if he had done
nothing to pave the way for it, he had held himself, so far as he was concerned, in readiness
for it. During a trip which he made to Rome in 981, he had entered into kindly personal
relations with the Emperor, Otto II., King of Germany, the most important of France's
neighbors, and the most disposed to meddle in her affairs. In France Hugh Capet had formed
a close friendship with Aldebaran, Archbishop of Rheims, the most notable and most able
of the French prelates. The event showed the value of such a friend. On the 21st of May,
987, King Louis V. died without issue, and, after his obsequies, the grandees of the kingdom
met together at Senlis. We will here borrow the text of a contemporary witness, Riker,
the only one of the chroniclers of that age who deserves the name of historian, whether
for the authenticity of his testimony, or the extent and clearness of his narrative.
The bishop, he says, took his place, together with the duke, in the midst of the assembly,
and said to them,
I come and sit down amongst you to treat of the affairs of the State. Far from me be any
design of saying anything but what has for aim the advantage of the common wheel. As
I do not see here all the princes whose wisdom and energy might be useful in the government
of the kingdom, it seems to me that the choice of a king shall be put off for some time,
in order that, at a period fixed upon, all may be able to meet in assembly, and that
every opinion, having been discussed and set forth in the face of day, may thus produce
its full effect. May it please you, then, all of ye who are here assembled to deliberate,
to bind yourselves in conjunction with me by oath to this illustrious duke, and to
promise between his hands not to engage yourselves in any way in the election of a head, and
not to do anything to this end until we be reassembled here to deliberate upon that choice.
This opinion was well received and approved of by all. Oath was taken between the hands
of the duke, and the time was fixed at which the meeting should assemble again.
Before the day fixed for reassembling, the last of the descendants of Charlemagne, Charles,
Duke of Lower Lorraine, brother of the late King Lothair, and paternal uncle of the late
King Louis, went to Rome in quest of the archbishop, and thus spake to him about his rights to
the throne.
All the world knoweth, venerable father, that by hereditary right I ought to succeed my
brother and my nephew. I am wanting not that should be required, before all, from those
who ought to reign, to wit, birth, and courage to dare. Wherefore am I thrust out from the
territory which all the world knows to have been possessed by my ancestors? To whom could
I better address myself than to you, when all the supports of my race have disappeared?
To whom, bereft as I am of honorable protection, should I have recourse but to you? By whom,
if not by you, should I be restored to the honors of my fathers? Please God, things turn
out favorably for me and for my fortunes. Rejected, what can become of me save to be
exhibited as a spectacle to all who look on me? Suffer yourself to be moved by some feeling
of humanity, be compassionate towards a man who has been tried by so many reverses. Such
language was more calculated to inspire contempt than compassion. The Metropolitan, firm in
his resolution, gave for answer these few words,—
Thou hast ever been associated with the perjured, the sacrilegious, and the wicked of every
sort, and now thou art still unwilling to separate from them. How canst thou, in company
with such men, and by means of such men, seek to attain the sovereign power?
And when Charles replied that he must not abandon his friends, but rather gain over
others, the bishop said to himself, Now that he possesses no position of dignity, he hath
allied himself with the wicked, whose companionship he will not, in any way, give up. What misfortune
it would be for the good if he were elected to the throne! To Charles, however, he made
answer that he would do not without the consent of the princes, and so left him.
At the time fixed, probably the 29th or 30th of June, 987, the grandees of Frankish Gaul,
who had bound themselves by oath, reassembled at St. Lys. Hugh Capet was present with his
brother, Henry of Burgundy, and his brother-in-law, Richard the Fearless, Duke of Normandy. The
majority of the direct vassals of the crown were also there. Fulcruznera, the Black, Count
of Anjou, Eudes, Count of Bloy, Chartres, and Tours, Bluchard, Count of Vingt-Mille,
and Corbille, Gautier, Count of Vexines, and Hugh, Count of Maine. Few counts came from
beyond the Loire, and some of the lords in the north, amongst others Arnolf II., Count
of Flanders, and the lords of Vermandoise, were likewise missing.
When those present were in regular assembly, Archbishop Adelherren, with the assent of
Duke Hugh, thus spake unto them,—Louis, of blessed memory, having been taken from
us without leaving issue, it hath become necessary to engage seriously in seeking who may take
his place upon the throne, to the end that the commonweal remain not in perro, neglected,
and without a head. That is why on the last occasion we deemed it useful to put off this
matter, in order that each of ye might come hither and submit to the assembly the opinion
with which God should have inspired him, and that from all those sentiments might be
drawn what is the general will. Here be we assembled. Let us, then, be guided by our
wisdom and our good faith, to act in such sort that hatred stifle not reason, and affection
distort not truth. We be not ignorant that Charles hath his partisans, who maintain that
he ought to come to the throne, transmitted to him by his relatives. But if we examine
this question, the throne is not acquired by hereditary right, and we be bound to place
at the head of the kingdom none but him who hath not only the distinction of corporeal
nobility, but hath honour to recommend him and magnanimity to rest upon. We read in the
annals that to emperors of illustrious race, whom their own latches caused to fall from
power, succeeded others, at one time similar, at another different. But what dignity could
we confer on Charles, who hath not honour for his guide, who is enfeebled by lethargy,
and who, finally, hath lost head so far that he hath no shame in serving a foreign king,
and in misuniting himself to a woman taken from the rank of the knights, his vassals?
How could the Poussaint duke brook that a woman issuing from a family of his vassals
should become queen, and have dominion over him? How could he walk behind her whose equals,
and even superiors, bend the knee before him, and place their hands beneath his feet?
Examine carefully into the matter, and consider that Charles hath been rejected more through
his own fault than that of others. Decide ye rather for the good than the ill of the
common wheel. If ye wish it, make Charles sovereign, if ye hold to its prosperity crown
Hugh, the illustrious duke. Let attachment to Charles seduce nobody, and let hatred towards
the duke distract nobody from the common interest. Give us then for our head the duke,
who has deeds, nobility, and troops to recommend him, the duke in whom ye will find a defender
not only of the common wheel, but also of your private interests. Thanks to his benevolence
ye will have in him a father, who hath had recourse to him, and hath not found protection,
who that hath been torn from the care of home hath not been restored thereto by him.
This opinion having been proclaimed and well received, Duke Hugh was unanimously raised
to the throne, crowned on the first of July by the Metropolitan and the other bishops,
and recognized as king by the Gauls, the Britons, the Normans, the Aquitanians, the Goths, the
Spaniards, and the Gascons. Surrounded by the grandees of the kingdom, he passed decrees
and promulgated laws according to royal custom, regulating successfully in disposing of all
that he might deserve so much good fortune, and under the inspiration of so many prosperous
circumstances he gave himself up to deep piety. Wishing to have a certainty of leaving, after
his death, and heir to the throne, he conferred with his grandees, and after holding counsel
with them he first sent a deputation to the Metropolitan of Rimes, who was then at Orléans,
and subsequently went himself to see him touching the association of his son Robert with himself
upon the throne. The archbishop having told him that two kings could not be regularly
created in one and the same year, he immediately showed a letter sent by Burrell, Duke of Inner
Spain, proving that the duke requested help against the barbarians. The Metropolitan,
seeing advantage was likely to result, ultimately yielded to the king's reasons, and when the
grandees were assembled, at the festival of our lord's nativity, to celebrate the coronation,
Hugh assumed the purple, and he crowned solemnly, in the Basilica of St. Croix, his son Robert
amidst the acclamations of the French. Thus was founded the dynasty of the Capetians,
under the double influence of German manners and feudal connections. Amongst the ancient
Germans, royal heirship was generally confined to one and the same family, but election was
often joined with heirship, and had more than once thrust the latter aside. Hugh Capet was
head of the family which was the most illustrious in his time, and closest to the throne, on
which the personal merits of Counts Udès and Robert had already twice ceded it. He
was also one of the greatest chieftains of feudal society, duke of the country which
was already called France, and count of Paris, of that city which Clovis, after his victories,
had chosen as the center of his dominions. In view of the Roman, rather than Germanic
pretensions of the Caerlovingian heirs, and of their admitted decay, the rise of Hugh
Capet was the natural consequence of the principal feats, as well as of the manners
of the period, and the crowning manifestation of the new social conditions in France, that
is, feudalism. Accordingly, the event reached completion and confirmation without any great
obstacle. The Caerlovingian, Charles of Lorraine, vainly attempted to assert his rights, but
after some gleams of success, he died in 992, and his descendants fell, if not into obscurity,
at least into political insignificance. In vain, again, did certain feudal lords, especially
in southern France, refuse for some time their adhesion to Hugh Capet. One of them, Adelbert,
Count of Paragord, has remained almost famous for having made to Hugh Capet's question,
Who made thee Count? the proud answer, Who made thee King? The pride, however, of Count
Adelbert had more bark than bite. Hugh possessed intelligence and patient moderation, which,
when a position is once acquired, is the best pledge of continuance. Several facts
indicate that he did not underestimate the worth and range of his title of King. At
the same time, that by getting his son Robert crowned with him he secured for his line the
next succession, he also performed several acts which went beyond the limits of his feudal
domains, and proclaimed to all the kingdom the presence of the King. But those acts were
temperate and wise, and they paved the way for the future without anticipating it. Hugh
Capet confined himself carefully to the sphere of his recognized rights as well as of his
effective strength, and his government remained faithful to the character of the revolution
which had raised him to the throne, at the same time that it gave warning of the future
progress of royalty independently of and over the head of feudalism. When he died, on the
24th of October, 996, the crown, which he hesitated, they say, to wear on his own head,
passed without obstacle to his son Robert, and the course which was to be followed for
eight centuries, under the government of his descendants, by civilization in France,
began to develop itself. It has already been pointed out, in the case of Adalberin, Archbishop
of Rem, what part was taken by the clergy in this second change of dynasty. But the
part played by it was so important and novel that we must make a somewhat more detailed
acquaintance with the real character of it and the principal actor in it. When, in 751,
Pepin the Short became king in the place of the last Merovingian, it was, as we have seen,
Pope Zachary who decided that it was better to give the title of king to him who really
exercised the sovereign power than to him who bore only its name. Three years later,
in 754, it was Pope Stephen II who came over to France to anoint King Pepin, and forty-six
years afterward, in 800, it was Pope Leo III, who proclaimed Charlemagne Emperor of the
West.
From the papacy, then, on the accession of the Carlovingians, came the principal decision
and steps. Their reciprocal services rendered one to the other by the two powers, and still
more, perhaps, the similarity of their maxims as to the unity of the empire, established
between the papacy and the Carlovingians strong ties of gratitude and policy, and accordingly,
when the Carlovingian dynasty was in danger, the court of Rome was grieved and troubled.
It was hard, for her, to see the fall of a dynasty for which she had done so much,
and which had done so much for her. Far, then, from aiding the accession of the new dynasty,
she showed herself favorable to the old, and tried to save it without herself becoming
too deeply compromised. Such was, from 985 to 996, the attitude of Pope John XVI, at
the crisis which placed Hugh Capet upon the throne.
In spite of this policy on the part of the papacy, the French Church took the initiative
in the event, and supported the new king. The Archbishop of Rheims affirmed the right
of the people to accomplish a change of dynasty, and anointed Hugh Capet and his son Robert.
The accession of the Capetians was a work independent of all foreign influence, and
strictly national, in church as well as state. The authority of Adalberin was of great weight
in the matter. As archbishop he was full of zeal, and at the same time of wisdom and ecclesiastical
administration. Engaging in politics, he showed boldness in attempting a great change
in the state, and ability in carrying it out without precipitation as well as without hesitation.
He had for his secretary and teacher a simple priest of Avernes, who exercised over this
enterprise an influence more continuous and still more effectual than that of his archbishop.
Gerbert, born at Aurillac, and brought up in the monastery of Saint-Giraud, had, when
he was summoned to the directorate of the school at Rheims, already made a trip to
Spain, visited Rome, and won the esteem of Pope John XIII. and of the Emperor Otto II.,
and had thus a close view of the great personages and great questions, ecclesiastical and secular,
of his time. On his establishment at Rheims he pursued a double course with a double end.
He was fond of study, science, and the investigation of truth, but he also had a taste for the
sphere of politics and of the world. He excelled in the art of instructing, but also in the
art of pleasing, and the address of the courtier was in him united with the learning of the
doctor. His was a mind lofty, broad, searching, prolific, open to conviction, and yet inclined
to give way, either from calculation or attraction, to contrary ideas, but certain to recur under
favorable circumstances to its original purpose. There was in him almost as much changeableness
as zeal for the cause he embraced. He espoused and energetically supported the elevation
of a new dynasty and the independence of the Roman Church. He was very active in the cause
of Hucoupet, but he was more than once on the point of going over to King Lothair or
to the pretender Charles of Lorraine. He was, in his time, even more resolutely than Bousset
in the seventeenth century, the defender and practicer of what have been called the liberties
of the Gallican Church, and in 992 he became, on this ground, Archbishop of Rheim. But after
having been interdicted, in 995, by Pope John XVI., from the exercise of this episcopal
functions in France, he obtained, in 998, from Pope Gregory V., the Archbishopric of
Ravenna in Italy, and the favor of Otto III., was not unconnected, in 999, with his elevation
to the Holy See, which he occupied for four years, with the title of Sylvester II., whilst
putting in practice, but with moderation and dignity, maxims very different from those
which he had supported, fifteen years before, as a French bishop. He became, at this later
period of his life, so much more estranged from France, in that he was embroiled with
Hucoupet's son and successor, King Robert, whose quantum preceptor he had been, and of
whose marriage with Queen Bertha, widow of Udès, Count of Blois, he had honestly disapproved.
In 995, just when he had been interdicted by Pope John XVI., from his functions as Archbishop
of Rheim, Gerbert wrote to the abbot and brethren of the monastery of St. Geraud, where he had
been brought up, and now farewell to your holy community, farewell to those whom I knew
in old times, or who were connected with me by blood, if there still survive any whose
names, if not their features, have remained upon my memory. Not that I have forgotten
them through pride, but I am broken down, and, if it must be said, changed by the ferocity
of barbarians. What I learned in my boyhood I forgot in my youth. What I desired in my
youth I despised in my old age. Such are the fruits thou hast borne for me, O pleasure!
Such are the joys afforded by the honors of the world. Believe my experience of it, the
higher the grade are outwardly raised by glory, the more cruel is their inward anguish.
Length of life brings, in the soul of the ambitious, days of hardy undeception, but
it does not discourage them from their course of ambition. Gerbert was, amongst the ambitious,
at the same time one of the most exalted in point of intellect, and one of the most persistent,
as well as restless, in attachment to the affairs of the world.
