CHARLES MARTEL (ca. 688--Oct. 741)
You ought to pick up pretty quickly on a discrepancy between the name and the image: the crownéd head. He's got a crown, but why doesn't he have the title "king" or at least "prince"? A good question, which will require a history lesson to answer!THE MAYOR OF THE FRANKS
As the extremities of the waning Roman Empire slipped out even of the titular control of the impotent Western emperors, various tribal groups (mainly Germanic) carved up the continent into a patchwork of petty and quarrelsome kingdoms. This was the famous Migration Age (Völkerwanderung) of the Germanic peoples, memorialized in the literature of many European countries, notably--wait for it!--Beowulf. In short, this is a period so chock-full of military, political, and social change that it would demand a set of encyclopedias to do it justice. At the moment, we're only concerned with one of the sundry Germanic peoples: the Franks, who gave France its name.
(Which means that, technically, Charles Martel is the first actual Frenchman in this series, though he was born in a region that is now Belgium. Whatever.)
At that time, "Frankland" were divided into a handful of kingdoms, the main ones being Austrasia, Neustria, Burgundy, and Aquitaine. (See the helpful map below!) Charles was the bastard son of Pippin the Fat, the palace mayor (chief steward) of the king of Austrasia. The kings of Austrasia, the Merovingians, were a weak and ineffective bunch, so the palace mayor essentially ran everything. Pippin seems to have been contented with the Austrasians' lot. His Neustrian counterparts were more greedy, however, and attempted a conquest of their neighbors. Fat Pippin smacked the Neustrians down mightily and--to make sure they never got uppity again--assumed control of the other kingdoms in the name of the Austrasian king. For himself, Pippin took the title "Dux et Princeps Francorum"--"Duke and Prince of the Franks". "Dux" signified his position as commander-in-chief of the combined Frankish armies; "Princeps" indicated his political rank within the kingdoms. "Mayor", incidentally, was only a title of domestic authority, though the mayor's supervision of the king's household gave him a great amount of de facto authority.
Pippin had a few legitimate sons, but all of them died before his own death in 714. However, his wife Plectrude (a truly unfortunate name) persuaded him disinherit his two bastard sons, Charles and Childebrand, and to name his legitimate grandson Theodald as his heir. This displeased the nobles greatly, because Theodald was all of eight years old; predictably, when Fat Pippin went to his Maker, the crap hit the fan. When the nobles started looking mutinous, Plectrude had Charles, the eldest of Pippin's bastards, thrown into prison.(Yes, I enjoy being able to legitimately use the word "bastard". And, yes, I know that was a pun.)
Charles' imprisonment kept the Austrasian nobles in their place, but not for long. When the Neustrians smelled weakness, they proclaimed their independence from Austrasian domination and invaded Austrasia. Predictably, somebody sprang Charles from the big house, and the Austrasian nobles proclaimed him mayor. After a long campaign against enemies domestic and foreign, Charles emerged the victor and took his father's place as mayor of the palace and duke and prince of the Franks. His brother Childebrand got Burgundy. Interestingly, when Charles captured Plectrude and his nephew Theodald, his political rivals, he didn't have them executed, as was the custom among both Romans and barbarians. Both apparently lived until their deaths in the comfort of the mayor's bounty, albeit under his watchful eye.
Okay, enough background. There's more to the story of Charles Martel than the neat fact that France was once ruled by a mayor. Most significant are Charles' role in establishing chivalric feudalism, and his defense of Europe from invading Umayyad armies. These two points are in fact related, as you shall see...
THE UMAYYAD INVASION
To explain this phase of the story, we need to turn our attention west and south to the Iberian Penisula, the region that is now called Spain. After the waning of Roman power, sundry Germanic tribes wrangled over the region, then known as Hispania; the Visigoths eventually won out in the late 500s, establishing a relatively civilized and at least nominally Christian kingdom. This lasted for a bit more than a century.
Now we shift further south, across the Strait of Gibraltar and into northern Africa. Here was the western extent of the Umayyad Caliphate's long arm, which reached all the way from Damascus. In this region of north Africa, called Ifriqiya, the caliphate was represented by a governor, Musa bin Nusair. In 711, Musa decided to invade Hispania, though his reasons for this are debated--some have claimed a Visigothic underdog asked the Muslim governor to intervene on his behalf in a civil skirmish. Whatever his motives, Musa sent his general Tariq ibn Ziyad, with a massive army of armies, across the strait. He landed at Gibraltar, which is named after him: Jabal Tariq, "Tariq's Mountain". Feeling confident, Tariq burned his ships, leaving his troops stranded in enemy territory. He meant this as as motivation:
O People ! There is nowhere to run away! The sea is behind you, and the enemy in front of you: There is nothing for you, by God, except only sincerity and patience.It worked, apparently; Tariq swept through Hispania like a wildfire through south Georgia and by the end of the year, held nearly all of the Iberian Peninsula. However, the next year, he and the governor of Ifriqiya were summoned to Damascus: they'd invaded Hispania without the caliph's permission, and he was, predictably, miffed. He kept Hispania, though, which became known as al-Andalus.
The Umayyad conquest of Hispania did not pass unnoticed by the Visigoths' neighbors in Frankland. The alarm was felt especially sharply in 721 when the Umayyad governor of al-Andalus invaded Aquitaine, the southern-most territory of the Franks. Europe had seen nothing like the governor's expedition since the height of Roman power: his army combined companies from Morocco, Yemen, and Syria, and included armored cavalry, almost unheard of in Europe. The governor besieged Toulouse and its ruler, Duke Odo of Aquitaine, fled. Fortunately for the Franks, the Umayyad general badly underestimated the prowess and preparedness of European armies. Despite his massive numeric advantage, he failed to defend his encampment adequately, leaving it open to Odo's crushing surprise attack. The Umayyad troops were caught off-guard and routed back to al-Andalus.
Naturally, this concerned Charles, Dux et Princeps Francorum. He knew Odo had been lucky, and that the Muslims had made an obvious strategic error they could not be counted on to repeat. Frankland needed something more than the occasional musters of dukes to defend its territory: it needed a permanent standing army. However, since most Frankish soldier were also farmers, war was impractical during busy farming seasons. To have a standing army, somebody needed to pay the soldiers so they could buy food instead of growing it. Charles didn't have the land or the money, but the Church did, so he took theirs. The Church cried foul and the dux et princeps Francorum almost found himself excommunicatus.
THE BATTLE OF TOURS
The Battle of Tours, the inaccurate but impressive Victorian versionThey changed their mind when a new Umayyad governor invaded Frankland again in 732, this time with an even bigger army. Duke Odo, hero of the last repelled invasion, was beaten soundly and forced to flee to Charles for help. The Muslims sacked and looted the Aquitainian port of Bordeaux and moved on to besiege the city of Tours, at that time a rich and powerful bishopric. In retrospect, this was an obvious tactical error on the part of Abdul Rahman, the Umayyad governor who was personally leading the invasion. Overconfident from an easy victory and weighed down the spoils of Bordeaux, the Umayyad forces were less prepared than they could have been for the battle to come. Furthermore, they apparently knew nothing at all about Charles the Austrasian mayor and his standing army of veterans. Of such oversights are impossible victories and unexpected defeats born.
Charles and his troops hurried to intercept the advancing Umayyad armies: the Franks stayed off the roads, moving cross-country to avoid enemy scouts. The duke knew his army was not enough, on its own, to do the job: though both contemporary European and Muslim accounts of the battle vary widely in the headcounts, most historians today agree that the Umayyads had the numeric advantage (except Victor Davis Hanson, that contrarian, who thinks they were about even). Paul K. Davis puts the numbers at roughly 30,000 for the Franks and 80,000 for the Umayyad caliphate. Moreover, Charles's army was infantry, while the Umayyads were fielding light and heavy cavalry. Why didn't Charles have cavalry? Because (1) cavalry was expensive to field and time-intensive to prepare, and (2) the Franks didn't have stirrups. This last point is critical: without stirrups, a cavalryman has only the force of his own arm in a blow, which is why Roman cavalry tended to use long-bladed spathae. With stirrups, however, a cavalryman is more anchored to his mount, allowing him to use its power as well and making the lance his most effective weapon of choice.
But Charles didn't have cavalry, and the invading Muslims did. He was not resourceless, however: he positioned his army on high, wooded ground, forcing the horsemen to charge uphill, tiring their mounts, and impeding their charge with trees. What's more, he used the cavalry-breaking infantry formation of the ancients, the phalanx. Charles didn't attempt to hide, though: he wanted Abdul Rahman to come to him. The Umayyad scouts spotted the Frankish encampment in their path and reported back. The caliphate's officers puzzled over the situation: why would a smaller army of foot soldiers sit waiting for their own vastly superior force? Perhaps suspecting a trick, the Muslim army waited for six days, watching their opposition and calling back raiding parties of cavalry back from the countryside.
On the seventh day, the Umayyad army attacked, confident in an easy victory. After all, foot soldiers could not withstand mailed horsemen! Except that this time they did: the Franks, now supported by a core of professional veterans, stood in the face of repeated cavalry charges and beat them back. But, in spite of their bravery, this was not enough: their position was defensive only, and eventually the raw power of numbers would begin to wear down their strength. But Charles had an ace up his sleeve: he'd sent scouts (ninjas, probably) out before the battle to infiltrate the Umayyad encampment and release any Frankish captives. When this news reached the Muslim army, many of them suddenly became more concerned about their loot than the battle at hand, and they abruptly left the field to save their stuff. Abdul Rahman suddenly found himself deserted by his troops and surrounded by grinning Frenchmen.
After the Franks killed the Umayyad governor of al-Andalus, the Muslims retreated back to their camp in earnest. Charles did not pursue them, fearing a trick. He had his men hold their position and waited through the long night till morning. When the invaders did not resume their assault, Charles sent scouts to the Umayyad camp. It was empty: the Muslim army, made up of elements from across the Umayyad caliphate, could not agree on who Abdul Rahman's successor should be. Unable to nominate a leader and fearing annihilation, they fled south, back into al-Andalus.
THE HAMMER & THE EMPIRE
Having done in one battle what no-one else in Western Europe could have accomplished, Charles, Dux et Princeps Francorum, became celebrated. The Church, formerly irate with his confiscation of her lands and tithes, was now grateful for a defender. The Pope and hierarchy knew of the Umayyad caliphate's conquest of Christian lands in the Levant and North Africa: the caliph himself, Al-Walid I, had leveled the Basilica of John the Baptist in Damascus, building an opulent mosque in its place. Augustine's Carthage, Athanasius's Egypt, Jerome's Palestine, Eusebius's Syria, even Pope Damasus's Hispania, had all fallen under the caliphate's rule. But in the face of this same invader, Charles and his Franks had stood strong and resisted, like Judas Maccabeus of old. For this, Charles was given the name "Martellus": "the Hammer". If you look at the illustration above, you'll see that Charles is swinging a hammer. Sorry, Mister Victorian Etcher: Charles didn't use a hammer--he was the hammer.
Furthermore, Charles Martel's economic arrangement for the support of his veterans became the foundation of the medieval feudal system: land bestowed on a class of fighting noblemen so as to give them both financial support and freedom to fulfill their military duties. This was a big change: among the Germanic tribes, the central military structure was that of a king's personal warband, a sort of glorified unit of bodyguards. And not only did the Hammer give his men land: he also gave them stirrups! Yes, Charles learned his lesson, emulating the Muslim use of heavy cavalry. When Abdul Rahman's son showed up with an army in 736, looking to pull an Inigo Montoya, he was surprised to find the Franks with an army of knights: he'd figured the Europeans would think cavalry were a good idea, but estimated that it would take a generation of training for the shaggy barbarians to develop their own cavalry. Charles Martel managed it in under five years. Abdul Rahman Jr. got schooled and was sent packing back across the Pyrenees; armored cavalry got to be rather popular in Europe after that. So, the whole knights and castles thing? Thank Charles the Hammer.
Finally, just as the military victories of David led to the grand peace and high culture of Solomon, so Charles Martel paved the way for the mighty Carolingian dynasty and the Holy Roman Empire. While Pippin the Fat and Charles Martel were content to remain the palace mayors, Charles's son Pippin the Short took the crown, deposing the Merovingian line and beginning his own. And Pippin's son was another Charles: Charles the Great, or Charlemagne. Under Charlemagne, Western European reached a height of civilization it had not seen since the days of Rome--but that's a story for another day...
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