Charles The Great - Charlemagne: King, Conqueror, Emperor

By Pauline Palmer

Charlemagne was perhaps one of the most remarkable of the Kings of France. Born on 7 April 742, his astonishing rise to power has long fascinated historians. The founder of the Carolingian dynasty, he united much of Western Europe under his banner.

After he was crowned King of the Franks, he constantly travelled across his lands from Spain to Italy, defending his Realm, but also encouraging education, the building of beautiful public architecture, artwork, and the adoption of Christianity. There was contact with diverse rulers, from the Byzantine empire, the Saracens of Spain, Danish Kings and Kings of Wessex.

He had to deal with treachery from within his own family, and dealt with numerous other factions in his reign, subduing the Lombards, Saxons and Avars, sometimes with magnanimity, and other times with severity. He lived to see five Popes of the Roman Catholic Church, and was finally crowned Holy Roman Emperor in 800.

He, more than anyone else, made the European 'Dark Ages' light.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398473027

Pauline Palmer

Pauline Palmer is a native of Birmingham and has lived in South Pembrokeshire for thirty years. Her interest in Charlemagne began in the 1980s following a visit to Aachen Cathedral.

Book preview

About the Author

Pauline Palmer is a native of Birmingham and has lived in South Pembrokeshire for thirty years.

Her interest in Charlemagne began in the 1980s following a visit to Aachen Cathedral.

Dedication

For Pat and George

Copyright Information ©

Pauline Palmer 2023

The right of Pauline Palmer to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

The story, experiences, and words are the author’s alone.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398473010 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398473027 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

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Prologue

I am Einhard, some call me Eginhard, and I was born in the year of our Lord 770 in the land of the Eastern Franks in Maingau to Einhart and Engilfrit.

In this year of 830, I have retired to Mühlheim and it has befallen on me to recount the life of my most revered and great lord, the Christian Emperor Charlemagne, Charles the Great, Carolus Magnus, King of the Franks.

I am now of the age sixty years and first came to the Royal Court in 791 when I was twenty-one years. This was at a time when the king’s own family conspired against him but let me first take you to the magnificent sight as he was crowned.

Chapter 1

The Crowning

May the king live forever! was a shout in unison, as the tall young man was raised on a glittering battle shield above the heads of the great army. May the king live forever! as he steadied himself on the shoulders of his supporters and then stretched himself to his full height of over six foot. His long, flowing golden hair caught the sun’s rays. To some, it seemed as if his head had touched the shining orb itself and he had thus become sacrosanct.

The whole Neustrian town of Noyons echoed with the traditional clashing of spears, as noble and commoner alike paid tribute, in the hope of peace and prosperity to the handsome and popular Charles King of the Franks, Patrician of the Romans, Illustrious Man.

While just eight leagues away at Soissons, in the Abbey of St Médard, the crowning of Charles’ brother Carloman had taken place. He had undergone a similar ceremony to that of his brother and he too had been anointed with Holy oil and crowned By the Grace of God.

The tributes having been paid, Carloman’s entourage returned to the ancient Royal Palace at Attigny on the River Aisne, of which Duke Otker was guardian. Carloman displayed much of the impious feeling that can beset a sixteen-year-old, as the oxen cart in which he travelled with the duke rocked and jolted over the crude dirt track. It has to be soon, duke, we have to get rid of that bastard Charles as soon as possible. How can the Franks have two kings? What possessed my father to do such a thing? It splits the nation and divides loyalties. Any fool can see that. As the legitimate son of Pepin, the whole kingdom should be mine by right of birth.

The duke shook his head benignly. Your father was a traditionalist, he followed the rule of all Frankish monarchs and divided his kingdom between his heirs, as if it had been his own private estate. As to your brother’s bastardy, the charge carries little weight. You see, Sire, King Pepin considered his marriage to Queen Bertrada valid because a son had already been born to it. No doubt, if it had not been for the encouragement of the missionary Boniface shortly before you were born, your father would not have bothered to have the marriage sanctified at all, in which case, of course, you would both be bastards.

The irony of life’s circumstances amused Duke Otker, but not so the young King Carloman, whose eyes flashed with an incredible hatred. I curse the head of my brother King Charles. And with contempt, he spat into the dusty earth.

They continued the journey in silence for a time, each man with his own individual thoughts. Carloman turned and looked behind him and the sight he glimpsed filled his heart with a burning pride. In the wagon immediately behind him was his wife Gerberga and their two small sons and beyond them, the slowly disappearing sight of the ancient abbey of St Médard, before which, his coronation had just taken place. The rays from the receding sunlight glistened on the river Aisne, and, for a moment only, Carloman forgot the undying hatred he held for his brother Charles.

Before long, Carloman’s party had assembled in the large forecourt of the Attigny Palace. Royal aides and servants came out to greet them and, in the hustle and bustle and general excitement of the occasion, one of Carloman’s sons began to cry. Carloman lifted him from the arms of his nurse and held him aloft, murmuring to him as he did so. Before long, the youngster was laughing merrily.

How did you manage to do that, my lord? asked the boy’s mother Gerberga.

It was easy, replied Carloman, I simply told him that he was the son of a king and that one day, he, too, would be king. The child was, by this time, gurgling happily and Carloman handed him back to his nurse, who took him inside the palace.

The duke said, You are fortunate, my lord, to have two perfect sons to…

It’s not fortune, Duke Otker, Carloman interjected. It’s not fortune at all, but fate. Fate has decided that as the true and rightful king of the Franks, I should be blessed with not one, but two perfect male heirs.

Sire… began the duke, to be interrupted once more by the young king.

No more, Duke, tomorrow we’ll go out hunting. He clasped the duke on the shoulder and together they entered the welcoming hall of the Royal Palace.

Charles’ journey home after his crowning took rather longer than that of his brother, for he wished to return to and spend the winter in his own territory of Austrasia, at his base in Aix-la-Chapelle. His old tutor, the Abbot Fulrad of St Denis accompanied him, and for this reason, their progress was slow. For although Charles was impatient to reach his home, and the troop would normally all be horse-mounted, he arranged for himself and the abbot to travel in an ox cart. Some soldiers and supplies travelled in a like manner, whilst the captain of the troop rode in a horse-drawn chariot at the head of the column. The other soldiers were displaced at strategic intervals along the column, with several leaving the troop to scout the surrounding countryside and check on their route ahead.

The abbot spoke to Charles, I fear I slow you down, my lord. Would it not be more prudent if you were to journey on ahead and I could follow in my own good, but slow time? asked the abbot.

Nonsense, Abbot, this may be one of the last opportunities I have to counsel your advice and opinions, as under the rules governing the division of the kingdom, you become my brother’s chief adviser.

The abbot shrugged. If the Abbey of St Denis had been a mere league to the north in Austrasia, instead of in Neustria, it would be under your jurisdiction. However, my lord, I would find myself unable to break with the traditions of a lifetime. I served your father as counsellor, envoy, chaplain, prime minister and friend, I would hope to serve his sons likewise, regardless of where the boundaries of their lands exist.

Charles was much moved by the abbot’s words and for a time, their journey progressed in silence, their wagon rolling and jolting as it fell into the many ruts and holes in the muddy track along the way, which inspired Charles to say, Before I left Aix-la-Chapelle, I instructed the Royal Commissioners to look into a programme of road improvement.

The abbot nodded. Yes, sadly, years of neglect have ruined the once great Roman roads.

I feel it is imperative to improve the road system, not only for my own convenience when travelling throughout my kingdom, but for rapid troop movements when necessary and for the transport of supplies and goods. Once they are improved, it should be possible to work out a system of maintenance, whereby the people living nearby can maintain them.

For a small fee, no doubt.

Charles smiled. If the transport system is maintained efficiently, it will be worth donating a few goods to keep the goodwill of the people involved.

The abbot nodded his acquiescence.

By dusk, the party had traversed about a third of the distance to their destination and approached the Palace at Liége to spend the night before travelling on to Aix-la-Chapelle.

As they entered the great archway, they could smell the roast meat which the hunters had bought in, as it was turned on spits over the fires lit in one of the courtyards, the smoke and crackling sparks shooting into the crisp night air.

Charles helped the abbot from the cart and they were greeted by the Steward of the Liége Palace, Elbert, who knelt before Charles and placing his hands in between Charles’ own, said, "I commend myself to you my lord and king and promise to faithfully serve you