RICIMER: Bad Boy of the Western Roman Empire - or was he?

The histories are pretty consistent in their opinions regarding Ricimer.

They don't like him very much.

Me being me, once I found out he's a relative of our fictional family, I took a closer look.

(The Back Story, establishing Ricimer's maternal connections)

Remember when we needed a worthy husband for our own Mamm of Dunnottar? She couldn't go through life all alone, and had a family heritage to add to. She needed a mate.

Fretting about it, I distracted myself by doing one of those on line quizzes: Which Conqueror Are You? Not exactly being 'conqueror material', and not really wanting to be, I didn't expect to find any matches.

Ha.

Up popped the only 'good guy' conqueror in the history of humankind: Alaric.

He did sack Rome in 410, this is true, but he wasn't mean about it. Mamm was at his side, and this was to be their final military campaign together, although they didn't know that at the time.

Alaric gave orders to not hurt anybody except in self defense. He insisted that the holy places be left alone, and everyone who got into them. Rumor has it that some of his men found a cache of wealth in the home of a little old lady. She told them it had come from one of the churches for safe-keeping. They gave themselves an escort, hoisted the wealth on their backs, and themselves carried it across town to return it to the church, with a crowd going along with them singing psalms and such. The other story that has survived is that one of his men found a woman alone. Instead of ravishing her he escorted her safely to the church where her husband had found refuge. Alaric gave his warriors but three short days to collect what they wanted, and then they were off - leaving to Rome almost all of the stores and supplies in the warehouses that had been held secure by his armies, and much of their wealth.

[Bear in mind that in the armies of Alaric were thirty thousand Getae warriors whose families had been ordered massacred by Honorius. Bear in mind that also in the armies of Alaric were tens of thousands of Getae who had been enslaved and earlier freed from their Roman owners by Alaric. So no, the sacking of Rome was not bloodless - but these folk were disobeying Alaric's orders, not going by them,]

Previously, he had held Rome under siege twice in the past two years.

THAT's the significant part, from our current perspective.

One of the negotiators for Rome was Aelia Galla Placidia, half-sister to the Emperors East and West, Arcadius and Honorius respectively.

One of the negotiators for Alaric was his brother-in-law Ataulf (Mamm's brother).

Turns out neither of them ended up being a lick of good in the negotiations, being as the two of them were locked in each other's eyes and busy falling deeply in love.

When Alaric left Rome that last time, Placidia went with Ataulf.

Skipping ahead a bit, Placidia and Ataulf ended up leading Alaric's people to settle in their new homeland: Aquitaine in Gaul. They were married and had a son. Then Ataulf was murdered. Placidia returned to her brother Honorius' household in the Western Roman Empire and was forced to marry the ambitious Constantius (the architect of the murder of Ataulf) and produce two children for her new husband. She ended up being Regent/Empress after Honorius died, while her son was a minor (Valentinian III - he was heir to the throne).

NOW we get to the part regarding RICIMER.

Mamm of Dunnottar, if you remember, has four brothers: Davidson of Chattan, LittleEthan of Tarnos, Ataulf of Dunnottar, and their younger brother Wally of the West (born to their parents after they sailed into the sunset to the Far Western Lands once Davidson, LittleEthan, Ataulf, and Mamm had been settled in where they needed to be).

After the murder of Ataulf, Wally of the West was chosen King by Alaric's people, as had been his brother Ataulf before him.

Wally's daughter Anna married Rechila King-apparent of the Suevii (NW part of what is now Spain, and just across the Pyrenees from Aquitaine).

Anna and Rechila had a couple of sons and a daughter.

Their second son was RICIMER.


[If you think I'm telling you a lot of stuff, you should see what all I'm leaving out!!]


The point here is that Ricimer's grandfather was the younger brother of Alaric's wife Mamm of Dunnottar and their other brothers, including the murdered Ataulf whose death left Placidia a widow. She would have been Aunt to Ricimer's mother Anna.

Family connections frequently made for the fostering of young ones by family members who were best suited to bring up certain young ones to fill certain niches.

Ricimer, being a second son with his elder brother slated to be a king, needed a career.

There's more to it than that, of course, but RICIMER went into Placidia's household during the years that she was reigning as Regent/Empress of the Western Roman Empire.

Placidia was Ricimer's foster mother during his developmental years, from young boy-hood through early adulthood. She was his great-aunt, although young enough to have been his mother as he fell in age smack between her son Valentinian III and her daughter Honoria. He would have been in his early thirties when she died at about age 60.


What most historians seem to dismiss out of hand is that Placidia had left Rome to go with Ataulf, apparently of her own free will as we don't hear of any negotiations having been made at the time for her ransom or return. Later, yes. but not during the first years after she left. What they mention but seem to not find all that significant is that, when she returned to Honorius' household, she was accompanied by a lot of Alaric's warriors as her Personal Guard. She refused to relinquish them and they refused to leave the side of their Queen.

Me being me, fiction writer that I am and having the Characters that we do, my interpretation is that Placidia and Ataulf were a love match from the get-go. She was Queen to his King and together they led the people of Alaric although neither was related to any of them. Placidia was Roman royalty; Ataulf was from Albann (now Scotland). Yet the people of Alaric chose Ataulf, and apparently were just fine with Placidia as their Queen. What does that tell you?

At any rate, Placidia was indeed best suited to prepare RICIMER for what was ahead of him.

Meanwhile ... 

There is, as always, a bigger picture to take into consideration.

Fictionally speaking, Ricimer is born to fulfill a Destiny not many would have been able to handle. Perhaps in reality as well, but fiction is our purview, not reality unless it fits into our Story Line. Just sayin'.

At practically the hour of his birth, our own Ullin of Iona claims RICIMER to fulfill that Destiny. From his earliest memories, Ricimer is well aware of what he will be called on to do, the reasons behind the demands, and the consequences should he fail.

Ullin of Iona, for those unfamiliar with him, is a very tall, very skinny, very bald, and VERY powerful Druid leader. His goal over the entire course of his very long life is to protect and preserve Freedom of Individual Choice for all of humankind, among other things. That he has issues with the Roman Empire is a given. That he might have issues with the direction Rome is taking 'Christianity' is a complex question.

Regardless of his personal take on the matter, Ullin of Iona serves the Mother of the Holy Trinity (The Father and the Son too, by association and the fact that the Trinity is unequivocally and inextricably ONE entity). His sight is far-reaching, to significantly understate, and he knows a lot more than he ever lets on.

When Ullin says something needs to be done, and bothers to explain himself, few are going to argue the point.

What Ullin sees in the future for the Peoples of Europe are the resulting outcomes should History take one course or another.

1) Should the Western Roman Empire revive itself and continue the course it started down so long ago, one outcome could be expected.

2) Should the Church of Rome gain ascendancy and move toward power, and control of Europe, a different outcome would be expected.

3) Should the various Peoples of Europe, the Getae/Celts go to war among themselves, still another outcome could come about.

4) Should the Vandals conquer all, something else would happen.

5) Should the invading folk from the East be given free rein, the result would be entirely different.

As RICIMER grows up in the household of Placidia, Ullin comes and goes frequently, teaching and training the young boy, the young man.


Between what he learns from Placidia about the ruling of an Empire, what he learns from Ullin about exploring options, and what he learns from Aetius the Roman General once his formal military training begins ... Ricimer is pretty darned well educated pretty darned early on.

Given that Ricimer is an apt student, the compelling goal of Ullin (to protect and preserve individual free choice for all) takes precedence. That it is a goal shared by Placidia might be an understatement. That Aetius is in accord with the concept is apparent from the fact that he's got a 'barbarian' for a wife and hasn't chosen a Roman woman. The women of the Getae/Celts bow to no man. Ever.


So all three of Ricimer's primary mentors share a common goal.

The goal itself is clear.

It's how to make it happen that needs to be fine-tuned.


The Peoples MUST forge themselves into strong nations whose people have steel in their backbones - steel powerful enough to turn aside the attacks that are to come, if they are to survive, if their culture of freedom is to survive.


The Future of the Peoples of Europe and beyond lie in the choices, and the hands, of one young man - RICIMER.

How will he choose?

Will he have what it takes to do what he has to do when he has to do it so that the Future will become what it will need to be when it needs to be it?

We'll find out.


NOTE: The five interlocked circles represent what all of our Characters live, fight, and die to protect and preserve:

Faith

Family

Friends

Freedom

Future

FAITH IS THE CENTER CIRCLE

VOICES ARE CALLING - USE YOURS

Scroll down to the Celtic Thunder Song link and listen to them Sing while you read this.


THIS shreds my soul. The link takes you to an article about a young person committing an atrocity while his elders stand by in approval.

And you know what?

I'm not really caring a whole lot about 'political correctness' at the moment. What is portrayed in the photo (couldn't watch the video itself, I just could not) is beyond any word I have at my command.

And yes of course I realize I'm just a little old gramma lady who lives in a tumble down cottage on Main Street of Small Town USA in the middle of nowhere. I realize that what I think or say or do doesn't matter a whit to anyone except me and possibly a handful of others.

Even so, although it is small, I do still have my Voice.

Excuse me folks, but our world is being bullied in the most horrifying way possible - and what are we going to do about it?

Where now all those Voices who have been so strident about 'taking a stand against bullying in our schools'? Where now those Voices that rant and rave about being offended? Where the Voices of those who speak out against Domestic Violence? Where the Voices that rail against injustice in our judicial and incarceration system?

WHERE ARE OUR VOICES?

A child commits murder and we condone it with our silence?

NO.

I tell you:  NO.  

The perpetrators are using religion as a weapon. No it is not the first time but this is happening in OUR time. OURS. Not way back in history somewhere but NOW and HERE.

We are being baited by a bully with a mean streak a mile wide.

Islam denies culpability, guilt by association. Christianity likewise; Judaism likewise; Buddhism the same; and Hinduism. 'We are victims!' Well, and so we are, all of us. And we are letting our own divisions get in our way. Islam cannot control this bullying 'child'; Christianity cannot; Judaism cannot; Buddhism and Hinduism cannot. Together, we could.

I write fiction, yet the times of which I write are not fictional.

Times and weaponry are different now but people are not. Peace too often comes at a price ... a dear price ... 

From Mamm of Dunnottar:

"  ...  Stilicho breaks the silence.

‘We know you, young warriors.’

His words make Ataulf smile.

‘We are healers more than warriors, Stilicho. We would have peace in this land and in all lands.’

‘Ah yes. So would we all. Going to battle for the sake of peace, does this not sit ill with you, Man of Peace?’

‘No. It is too often necessary.’  ... "

And ...

"  ...  Her Voice sounds hollow and the two men turn to look first at one another and then at Joan.

Davidson speaks quietly.

‘Joan, what see you? Can you tell us?’

‘Death. I see death, Davidson. Death and mourning. I see great wrath unleashed, and the Mercy of the Mother. Victory yes but at what price; Davidson my husband, what price are we willing to pay for a Peace that will be long in coming?’

The hollow Voice goes silent and again the three stand looking out over the fires of their people.

Come the dawning all is still and silent in the camps of Alaric.

Even the birds have silenced their Voices.

The Dogs of War, from Chattan and Perth and Tarnos, sit themselves near their masters and do not stir.

No whicker or neigh is heard from the horses.

It seems not a creature moves – neither bird of the air nor beast of the forest, nor even the ever-active insects.

On a high place stand Mamm and Alaric.

Hands clasped together before them, their eyes, one pair so green and the other such a deep blue, have locked once more.

Catan, the Silver Sword, and Glisten stand motionless alongside of them.

Here they have stood in prayer through the night.

Here will they stand in prayer through this day.

The sun rises past the dawning and from a distance at once too near and too far comes the Voice of the Carnyx of Chattan, clear in the morning.

Davidson flinches but a grim smile touches his mouth.

‘The Voice of Chattan is first to Speak,’ he murmurs.

Too near, too near.

Too far, too far.

Hear now the Horns of Iona.

Hear now the Horns of Tara.

There Sounds the Voice of Perth; and again; and again.

Now come the Voices of the Horns of Tarnos, carrying shrill and high in the dawning of this day.

And here the bellow of the Voice of Dunnottar; the Horns of the Fienne have chosen it on this day and send it before them into Battle.

The Bells of Andorra give Voice.

Too far, too far.

Too near, too near.

Ataulf, Davidson, and Joan carrying Sma'David and Mari at her side, come to stand near to Mamm and Alaric.

Silent they are; silent they remain.

And Alaric and Mamm break not their trance.

The Black Wolf approaches to stand silent at the shoulder of Ataulf; here comes also Plusa to side Davidson, and the pretty red mares of Joan and Mari whose names are Gala and Ghia.

Here too come the blood-red War Dogs of Chattan, of Perth, of Tarnos.

Through the air come the Voices of the Horns again and again.

Chattan.

Iona.

Tara.

Perth.

Tarnos.

Dunnottar.

Andorra.

They are now joined by the Voices of more Carnyx, more Horns of many places and peoples.

And the Voices of the Horns flow through the air in a medley, distant but clear, bitter but proud at the dawning of this day.

Too far, too far.

Too near, too near.

The army of Alaric stands silent and still, in prayer, on this day.  ... "

A battle, ostensibly in the name of 'religion', and not even the 'religion' of the army whose Story we are reading - but fight they do, because more is at stake than who believes what. The Freedom to believe, and to live, as they choose - in peace - is what brings this particular army to a war that 'is not really theirs'. It is for this ultimate Freedom they lose fully half of their warriors in the two days of this battle. 

More than fifteen hundred years ago - before there was any such thing as Islam in our world - people were taking their stand and losing their lives on behalf of a principle which maintains that individual Freedom is worth fighting for.  

YouTube Book Trailer

I'm not a natural at much of anything, nor skilled ... 

I did not set out to write a bunch of books, just so you know. They just kind of happened.

And now this stuff going on in our own time, our own world ... it makes me feel the way our Characters had to have felt when the same sorts of things were going on in their time, their world.

They took their stand, they held it against all odds, they protected and preserved what was theirs to protect and preserve.

And they did it for US. For us ... 

Excuse me, but have we not inherited any of their strength along with the Legacy? Have we not got any of their gumption? That army was comprised of many and many an ethnic group, many and many a different belief system - from across Europe they came, not just the one family whose history we happen to be following through the Mamm Books.

And I don't give a darn whether or not you ever in your life read any of those books - what I WANT is for you YOU YOU to give a darn and to pay attention to what's going on in YOUR world.

You know that symbol thing at the end of the book trailer? This one:

It's a warning. If we keep going the way we're going we'll wind up at a dead end and our civilization will have to work its way back to where we got off track. Not in our lifetime probably, maybe not in our children's ... but unless we do something pretty darned soon as human beings (not as Muslims, or Christians, or Jews, or Buddhists, or Hindus, or Atheists, or Futurists, or anything else but as Human Beings) that dead end might well BE a dead end, literally, for us.

Yeah, I'm more than a little upset by the actions of one 'child'. It's triggered the 'preacher' in me.

All this time I've thought that Voices, in person and in print, could turn the tide.

Our silence, mine included, and yours, hasn't been a very effective deterrent.

If I could, I would bring back that army of so very long ago, all those warriors ... men and women alike ... Pagan, Druid, Culdee, Christian  and whoever else ... and sic them on this bully among us. 

Me, a Woman of Peace ... 

Why?

What is it about this child's actions that has me up in arms?

It's because it is a child. A child who is not innocent. A child whose innocence has been sacrificed in the name of 'religion', in the name of WHAT?!?!

I do not give a darn what your personal belief system might happen to be, any more than that army clear back fifteen hundred years ago refused any who were Called to join them.

Here's another bit that I hope will make you think. It's a Song. Celtic Thunder's 'Voices' ... 

Here's the YouTube LINK

The powerful Voices of these men ... 'There's a Voice that is starting to Call us; it's Voice that we just can't ignore. There's a Bell that is Ringing to tell us - we're in a time and a place like never before ... There's a time when we're Called to be ready ... a time when we're Called to be steady ... '

Ach. Just click on the link - their Voices are much more Powerful than my words.

Even so I do give you my Voice - and I do use it to Call you. Listen to what you hear around you. Use your own Voice to answer. 

My words, my Voice, such as they are ... they're all I've got.

And whether or not anyone else Hears, my Voice and my words, and YOURS, need to be saying 'NO.' 

NO it is not okay. NO it cannot continue. NO NO NO

Because, you see, enough Voices saying 'NO' might make a difference. 

China, say 'NO.'

Russia, say 'NO.'

Europe, say 'NO.'

North America, say 'NO.'

South America, say 'NO.'

Australia, say 'NO.'

Africa, say 'NO.'

Asia, say 'NO.'

And mean it.

Why Does Anybody Write Fiction When We've Got History?

My rendition of a part of this history ... 

Louis II through Louis V of France

In case there are any conspiracy theory fans out there, here’s a set of circumstances for your perusal. This bunch of Carlovingian Kings of France … somebody must have cursed their line a good one somewhere along the way …

Louis II (the stammerer, musta stuttered) reigns only 18 months, and those are filled with internal fighting because his chiefs, vassals, and an abbot, mainly in Aquitaine (never really took to Frankish rule, preferring their own, thank you very much) align themselves against the crown – not Louis II himself in particular, mind you … just the crown in general.

Plus the Vikings, aka Normans, are back.

Anyway, he gets sick and dies on his way to try to fix things with Aquitaine.

Leaves two teenaged sons, he does … kind of reminds me of Theodosius and HIS two – except that THESE two brothers act together to try to stop the Vikings (um, Normans) … 

The older one, Louis III, is barely sixteen and the other, Carloman, is maybe thirteen at the time their father dies. There’s also a baby brother but he doesn’t count, being as he’s 'illegitimate', the son of Louis II’s second wife (divorced his first one) and born posthumously to boot.

Anyway, their father Louis II suddenly takes sick and dies a year and half into his reign, in 879.

They are opposed from the get-go.

The abbot of St. Denis, with help, tries to get Louis of Germany onto the throne, to no avail … and so said abbot, Gozlin, has to leave the realm.

Then this guy Boson gets himself declared king of Provence by the bishops and nobles there.

Once these teenaged kings get their crowns firmly on their heads, the brothers take on the Vikings (Normans)  – stop them, they do – but then some who had hidden themselves sneak up in the night and scare the bejayzuz out of the victors before taking themselves off to loot Germany for a while.

The boys, together – Louis III in the west and Carloman in the east (I think – if you find it a matter of urgency, look it up), have but three short years before Carloman’s ruling alone, and he has only two years of that …

Sigh.

So.

Louis III either falls off his horse or gets sick (like his father?) and dies. He’s 19.

Carloman goes back to fighting the Normans, who don’t just go home after he beats them but stick around and raid in smaller bands all over the place until Carloman opts for buying them off so they’ll leave the vicinity again, instead of trying to chase them hither, thither, and yon.

Two years after his brother gets dead, Carloman dies in a hunting accident, either from getting stabbed by a stag or by getting shot with an arrow allegedly aimed at said stag. He’s 18.

So they’re both gone.

Instead of granting the baby the crown, they give it to Fat Charlie, Emperor of whatever – ah, Charlemagne's empire – because they think he’ll be a stronger force against the Normans.

Ha.

That’ll teach them to think.

Apparently this guy isn’t very nice.

He invites a chief of the Normans to a meeting but, instead of going to meet him, has him assassinated.

Well now.

This kind of makes the rest of the Normans mad.

They get together the biggest force yet and lay siege to Paris in 885, bringing their boats and the whole nine yards.

Instead of rushing to the aid of his people, Fat Charlie dicks around for a year or so in Pavia, wherever that is.

So Paris is on her own and holds out against this big strong Norman assault for all this time, which Fat Charlie has called down on them by ticking off the Normans in the first place.

When Fat Charlie does get around to showing up he doesn't take on the Normans, although he does get as far as Metz where apparently he just sits around and does not much of anything in particular. Eats, maybe. I don’t reckon they call him Fat Charlie for no good reason.

Finally the brave Count Eudes of Paris has just about had it with this whole situation.

The Normans are trying to get past the ramparts six ways from Tuesday, the moats are filling up with the rotting corpses of French people, food is running out, and yada yada … enough is enough already.

So Eudes sneaks out of Paris, right?

He sneaks through the enemy camps and goes to Fat Charlie in Metz to give him what for.

Really, what the heck kind of king sits there and lets Paris be under seige for a whole dang year without lifting a finger to do anything about it?!? Especially when said king caused the whole thing in the first place.

Under the impression that said king is actually going to finally do something, Eudes sneaks back through the enemy camps to Paris.

Unfortunately for him, it seems somebody snitched on him. They do say that he had to fight his way back into the city and got his sword all bloody in the process.

And here comes Fat Charlie to the plain of St. Denis.

When he sees what he’s up against, he pays the Normans 7,000 pounds (weight) of silver, offers them safe passage on the Seine, and suggests they head for Burgundy which is ripe for the picking.

This they agree to, and aboard their boats they go, to take the water route (the Seine) through Paris.

Um.

No.

Paris isn’t going to let them through and they shoot the captain of the first boat that tries it.

So the Normans bodily pick up their boats a couple of miles outside of Paris and carry them on their backs to a couple of miles on the other side of Paris … then off they go to wreak havoc in Burgundy.

Fat Charlie has managed to make everybody mad at him so he gets deposed and Charlemagne's Empire gets dismantled into eight separate kingdoms – which is probably just as well since nobody’s getting along with each other anyhow, not so's  you'd notice ... an empire divided is no empire in the first place.

France’s new ruler is guess who.

Eudes of Paris.

They pass over little Charles the Simple again. I bet that made his mother kind of mad but who knows – maybe she was relieved, all things considered. For all we know she had a hand in the untimely deaths of her stepsons … paving the way for little Charles, you know ... nah ... she wouldn't do that.

Anyway, Eudes takes it to the Normans in no uncertain terms and kicks their backsides from hell to breakfast, only to have more of them show up and pick up where the others left off in totally wrecking everything they can get their hands on.

He finally has to resort to paying them off, which kind of gets them off his back but makes the nobles and such pretty mad because they’re the ones who are getting stuck with all the bills.

So they up and make little Charlie king after all.

Luckily for all involved, the responsibilities are shared by Eudes (whew!).

When Eudes dies in 898 he tells everyone to go with Charles as king and let his own house off the hook for inheriting the curse of the throne of France. Okay, I made that last bit up, but apparently he did tell them that Charles was sole monarch.

And so things go from bad to worse. The whole shooting match is now in the hands of the nobles and etc. Nobody is even bothering to fight or buy off the Normans any more and the people are paying through the teeth just to live.

Things get so bad that the Normans don’t even have anything left to ravage.

So they settle themselves down and become colonists instead of raiders – new towns and such come into being where the old ones have long since become barren. Makes a person wonder if they would have been so thorough in their ravaging if they'd known they were going to be the ones to have to put it all back together again ... 

And here comes good old Rollo again. This is the guy that had been bribed by Charles the Bald in 876, and then was in on the siege of Paris.

Now he goes about burning the monastery of St. Martin of Tours, sacking Bourges, and marching into Paris.

So Charles the Simple hands over his daughter Gisele, gives Rollo rank, and gives him the whole province of Maritime Neustria from the sea to the river Epte – the Duchy of Normandy.

And Rollo is in.

He’s supposed, as a gesture of submission and good will, to kiss the foot of Charles.

*snicker*

He doesn’t.

Neither does the guy who’s supposed to step up to the plate and do it for him.

Oh, this guy goes up to the throne all right.

But instead of stooping to kiss that foot, he raises said foot of said king and uses it to topple the king from off of his throne, onto his backside on the turf (the turf part is debatable, the toppling part is not).

Bet that got a few Norman laughs and a few French growls. Ah no, they took it in silence I understand. Fancy that.

Rollo is duly baptized as part of the deal, with Eude’s brother Robert Duke of France standing as his sponsor.

The old warrior marries Gisele and turns his new lands – Normandy – into something wondrous, apparently.

Well, who was going to argue with him about how he wanted to do anything? Who would even want to try to stand against him? His own people were on the same page as him, and anyone who didn’t like it was free to leave his realm, or die I guess. All things considered, he had a darned free rein and used it to turn things around. 

Kind of reminds me of Alaric some, only with a really deep and wide mean streak. I betcha Rollo never had a sword whose name was Kindness. They both (bottom line) wanted homelands for their people. Alaric asked time and again and his people paid with their blood fighting for someone else’s gain, trying to ‘earn’ a home … they ended up in Aquitaine by fighting to protect it. But that’s a whole different Story, that is.

Back to topic.

Once Rollo has a homeland for his people, he and they settle down and create peace for themselves – the hard way, they get that peace, but I would bet they think it worth the price.

https://books.google.com/books?id=3tsDAAAAQAAJ&pg=PA278&lpg=PA278&dq=AD+882+st+denis+france+louis+III&source=bl&ots=0AFbCH38Yh&sig=d7nfSUIneg5DOmN7agKopm2giEY&hl=en&sa=X&ei=POjPVLzmB8SfyAS-hoKACg&ved=0CD4Q6AEwBQ#v=onepage&q=AD%20882%20st%20denis%20france%20louis%20III&f=false

At the above site on page 284 it says:

“… according to Oderic Vital, ‘a child might have traversed his domains, with a purse of gold in his hand, without fear of molestation.’”

The same source says that Rollo once hung a pair of golden bracelets on the limb of a tree and they stayed right there for a good two years without anyone touching them. The rebuttable presumption is that he eventually went hunting in that same area again and took them down his own self. Since there’s nobody to rebut said presumption we’ll just go with that.

Charles the Simple, meanwhile, is proving his simplicity.

His best friend Haganon seems to be calling the shots – and he overshoots himself when he doesn’t let Henry Duke of Saxony and Robert Duke of France in to see the king when they want to tell him about some crappy stuff going on out there in the kingdom.

Makes them mad, that does.

In 920 everyone gets together, meet up with Charles, and one and all they break their ‘reeds or wands of office’ and throw them at his feet.

Charles the Simple is deposed.

Robert Duke of France becomes king by acclamation. Or election. Take your pick. He gets to sit on the throne and wear the crown.

Charles goes away to Lorraine and Robert follows him for no real good reason that anyone can figure out. Maybe he just wants to see where Charles is going.

Dear Haganon hires himself a Norman army and surprise surprise there’s a fight.

King Robert, a white-beard by this time, grabs his own banner and charges hellbent-for leather at the banner of Charles. Charles warns his standard-bearer in time and Robert's attack ends up with his own head at his own feet. So to speak.

Howsomever, Robert's son Hugues goes on to win the day and Charles goes on his way to Germany to see if Henry of Saxony would have mercy on him.

Now Hugues isn’t all that interested in wearing any old crown, bless his heart, and asks his sister Emma what to do. Being as she’s married to the Duke of Burgundy (Raoul) the crown goes to Raoul by order of Hugues.

Sigh.

No, that’s not the end of the story.

Rollo, just to stir the pot and rile things up, now that the whole mess is settled, declares himself for guess who –

That’s right.

Charles the Simple.

He says it’s because that’s the king he has sworn allegiance to, and maybe he isn’t really lying about that.

Hindsight being 20/20 and everything being a matter of perspective, consider how things might have evolved if France had put Rollo in charge of the whole shebang instead of just giving him Normandy.

Ah.

You can’t expect people to go that far, given the history Rollo had already inflicted on them.

At any rate, nobody agrees with Rollo about siding with Charles the Simple, not that I believe he really expected them to.

Charles becomes the prisoner of Herbert Count of Vermandois by devious means; Herbert trots him out once in a while when he wants something from king Raoul, but he never gets set free. If they spoil him, as they well might even though he's a prisoner, he might not mind captivity too much. At least he's safe. And useful to somebody.

Meanwhile, Charles’ wife Elgiva takes their three year old son Louis to her brother Athelstan of England. 

Rollo himself dies at a ripe old age a little while after Charles is taken captive. His son William Longsword takes over …

King Raoul dies in 936 without a son so poor Hugues again has to decide who to put on the throne.

This time he gives it to the logical recipient, Louis IV, son of the now-dead Charles the Simple, nephew of Athelstan of England.

By now Louis IV is a whopping sixteen years old and Hugues decides he wants Burgundy.

Good grief.

Burgundy Hugues cannot have, with or without Louis IV saying so.

So he decides he wants Laon – which is really all that Louis IV has. So he says no and they have a fight over it. Emperor Otho saves Louis IV’s bacon but Hugues is pretty darned powerful …

Louis IV goes to Aquitaine and gets a lot of sympathy but not much else.

Everyone’s sick and tired of all the fighting. They just want their lives back – like the Normans up in Normandy, they want their lands and their homes to be safely their own again, productive and yada yada ...

Speaking of the Normans … William Longsword has gotten himself assassinated by Arnoul the Count of Flanders in retaliation for William helping out an enemy of said Count.

Now Richard, William’s son, is only ten years old and illegitimate to boot.

Louis IV heads for Normandy to accept the homage of Richard, which is duly performed, assigns himself Richard's guardian, and hies him off to Laon (castle of the king, Louis’ home).

And keeps him there.

Yep.

And they called his father simple.

Richard’s governor (and teacher?) Osmond sneaks into the castle disguised as a groom for the horses, gets Richard the Fearless bundled into a bunch of hay, and carries him over his shoulder out of the castle grounds to a waiting conveyance and they get the heck out of there and back to Normandy.

So what does Louis IV do but enlist the help of Hugues Duke of France of all people – they’re going to get rid of this Richard kid and split Normandy between the two of them.

I tell ya. The father has nothing on the son when it comes to simple-mindedness.

They get to Normandy and everyone just leaves them alone (which really ought to have told them something, right?). Louis picks a fight with Hugues and sends him packing back to Paris.

Ditto above statement.

We’re up to 945 now, in case you were wondering.

Anyway, a honking big bunch of Danes come on down to Normandy, into all that nice quiet ‘innocence’, to help out (they owe Richard’s father William a favor -  and probably really just want the fun of the fight) and kick the everlivin’ daylights out of Louis IV. 

He runs for it but gets himself captured.

Although it goes against his grain, Hugues gets together the ransom to free Louis IV from captivity in Rouen – and then takes him prisoner his own self.

Poor guy (Louis IV).

Now he’s got to sign Laon over to Hugues after all, in order to get his freedom. So he’s got no power, no land, nothing at all – and goes a-wandering destitute among his people, a sorrowful sight …

Uffda.

Louis IV goes to his brother-in-law Emperor Otho for help but the help isn’t really all that helpful. Otho is also brother-in-law to Hugues, you see. Being between fighting brothers-in-law  is no doubt not a safe place for anybody, no matter what title you carry.

Finally the Pope has to decide, and even then Hugues is darned attitudinal, sneering at the threat of excommunication and demanding this that and the other thing.

And he started out being such a nice guy.

Geez.

Anyway, Laon goes back to Louis IV but Hugues gets to keep all the power and control.

Heck of a deal, that.

In 954, four years after all this, Louis IV dies when his horse falls while chasing a wolf.

Really.

Those French kings ought to just stay the heck off of horses.

And here we go again.

Louis IV’s son Lothaire is only thirteen when his father dies.

Hugues, true to his not-so-nice-guy nature, demands and 'gets' Aquitaine, just like he tried to get Burgundy.

Same results.

William of Aquitaine is having none of that.

And the fight is on for a couple of years – until by the grace of the Almighty and to the relief of all (except presumably Hugues himself) the guy finally bites the dust.

Well now.

We’ve got fifteen year old Lothaire on the one hand and his ten year old first cousin Hugh Capet on the other. Their mothers are full sisters – and I can’t even begin to imagine what in the world their lives had to have been like.

These sisters, Gerberge and Hedwige, have some powerful brothers: Otho Emperor of Charlemagne's territory, and Bruno Duke of Lorraine and Archbishop of Cologne.

With their respectively troublesome husbands at long last out of their hair, the sisters get together with their brothers and the family makes a decision.

The boys Lothaire and Hugh are going to be raised together from here on out – and that’s all there is to it. Enough is enough of the bickering and fighting already.

And guess what.

It works.

The two of them have each other’s backs for keeps.

*chuckle*

Emperor Otho dies, right? And his son Otho II takes over in Lorraine, first cousin to these two.

They come to ‘take’ him just as he’s sitting down for a nice fancy feast – he gets away, leaving his meal for his cousins to thoroughly enjoy.

Vowing vengeance, Otho II tells his cousins that he’s going to ‘sing Alleluia at the walls of Paris like it’s never been heard before’ or some such …

And he does.

Scares the livers out of everyone when his army shows up at Paris fully outfitted for serious battle.

And they do indeed sing :  The Canticle of the Martyrs – Alleluia! And Te Martyrum candidatus Laudat exercitus Domine! – which probably scares everyone even more.

Then they turn around to march home, carrying the booty they’ve collected along the way …

Mm-hmmm …

They get caught in a river flood and lose all that booty, plus cousin Lothaire takes out their rear guard for good measure.

So it isn’t all just fun and games.

Even so, there doesn’t seem to be all that much angst among the cousins, to be honest, relatively speaking, for the time.

On the other hand, Lothaire gets dead allegedly by poison at the hand of his wife Emma in March of 986. Not the same Emma that Hugues asked for advice – for heaven’s sake that was how many generations ago now?

Lothaire’s son Louis V is more than a little upset with his mother and her (presumed) lover Adalberon Bishop of Laon.  He threatens them but probably doesn’t follow through; reigns for only fourteen months before he too dies of poison at the hand of his wife Blanche, who wants (and gets) Uncle Hugh Capet as her new husband … whether the story is true, we don’t know; whether Hugh has any knowledge or participation, we also don’t know.

And with Louis V ends the line of what is known as the Carlovingian race of the kings of France, in the merry merry month of May in 987. [That's a nice round five hundred years from 487 and SONG, come to think of it. Maybe I ought to write this into fiction, hmmm ... ?]

Which is as good a good place as any to end this little story methinks.