Charlemagne

I was set over the Franks with my brother in 768; when Carloman died, the burden was mine alone. I crossed the Alps, broke Desiderius at Pavia, and took the Iron Crown. On the Nativity of Our Lord, in St. Peter’s, Leo the pope placed the imperial crown upon me. I received it as duty: to keep order among many peoples and to guard Christ’s church from within and without.

The Saxon forests did not yield quickly. I struck their shrines, demanded oaths, tribute, and baptism. Rebellion bred blood: at Verden in 782 I ordered 4,500 executed, believing severity would end a wasting war. I shattered the Avar stronghold and set marches at the edges; I also learned from loss—at Roncevaux my rear guard was cut down in the passes of the Pyrenees.

Yet I knew a realm is not held by spears alone. I summoned Alcuin and other scholars to Aachen, ordered schools in bishoprics and monasteries, and had books corrected into a clear new hand. My tongue was Frankish and I spoke Latin, yet writing resisted me; I kept wax tablets by my bed and traced letters at night. I sent missi dominici to judge, reformed the silver penny, and raised my chapel over Aachen’s hot springs. From Baghdad came Harun’s elephant, Abul‑Abbas—friendship crossing great distance.