The Historians' History of the World 06

Clodion, the first of their long-haired kings, whose name and actions are mentioned in authentic history, held his residence at Dispargum, a village or fortress, whose place may be assigned between Louvain and Brussels. From the report of his spies, the king of the Franks was informed that the defenceless state of the second Belgic must yield, on the slightest attack, to the valour of his subjects. He boldly penetrated through the thickets and morasses of the Carbonarian forest, occupied Turnacum (Tournay) and Camaracum (Cambray), the only cities which existed in the fifth century, and extended his conquests as far as the river Samara (Somme), over a desolate country, whose cultivation and populousness are the effects of more recent industry (429).

While Clodion lay encamped in the plains of Artois, and celebrated with vain and ostentatious security the marriage perhaps of his son, the nuptial feast was interrupted by the unexpected and unwelcome presence of Aëtius, who had passed the Samara at the head of his light cavalry. The tables, which had been spread under the shelter of a hill, along the banks of a pleasant stream, were rudely overturned; the Franks were oppressed before they could recover their arms or their ranks; and their unavailing valour was fatal only to themselves. The loaded wagons which had followed their march afforded a rich booty; and the virgin bride, with her female attendants, submitted to the new lovers who were imposed on them by the chance of war. This advantage, which had been obtained by the skill and activity of Aëtius, might reflect some disgrace on the military prudence of Clodion; but the king of the Franks soon regained his strength and reputation, and still maintained the possession of his Gallic kingdom from the Rhine to the Samara.

Under his reign, and most probably from the enterprising spirit of his subjects, the three capitals, Mogontiacum, Augusta Trevirorum, and Colonia Agrippina, experienced the effects of hostile cruelty and avarice. The distress of Colonia Agrippina was prolonged by the same barbarians who evacuated the ruins of Augusta Trevirorum; and Augusta Trevirorum, which in the space of forty years had been four times pillaged, was disposed to lose the memory of her afflictions in the vain amusements of the circus. The death of Clodion, after a reign of twenty years, exposed his kingdom to the discord and ambition of his two sons. Merovæus, the younger, was persuaded to implore the protection of Rome; he was received at the imperial court as the ally of Valentinian, and the adopted son of the patrician Aëtius; and dismissed to his native country, with splendid gifts and the strongest assurances of friendship and support. During his absence, his elder brother had solicited with equal ardour the formidable aid of Attila; and the king of the Huns embraced an alliance which facilitated the passage of the Rhine and justified by a specious and honourable pretence the invasion of Gaul.

When Attila declared his resolution of supporting the cause of his allies the Vandals and the Franks, at the same time and almost in the spirit of romantic chivalry, the savage monarch professed himself the lover and the champion of the princess Honoria. The sister of Valentinian was educated in the palace of Ravenna; and as her marriage might be productive of some danger to the state, she was raised by the title of Augusta above the hopes of the most presumptuous subject. But the fair Honoria had no sooner attained the sixteenth year of her age than she detested the importunate greatness which must forever exclude her from the comforts of honourable love; in the midst of vain and unsatisfactory pomp, Honoria sighed, yielded to the impulse of nature, and threw herself into the arms of her chamberlain Eugenius. Her guilt and shame (such is the absurd language of imperious man) were soon betrayed by the appearances of pregnancy; but the disgrace of the royal family was published to the world by the imprudence of the empress Placidia, who dismissed her daughter, after a strict and shameful confinement, to a remote exile at Constantinople. The unhappy princess passed twelve or fourteen years in the irksome society of the sisters of Theodosius and their chosen virgins; to whose crown Honoria could no longer aspire, and whose monastic assiduity of prayer, fasting, and vigils she reluctantly imitated. Her impatience of long and hopeless celibacy urged her to embrace a strange and desperate resolution.