The Historians' History of the World 07

In the idea which Henry conceived, the kingdom appeared almost as only an alliance of German stems under the leadership of a king jointly elected by them. And yet they were far from willingly recognising this leadership. Bavaria and Swabia had separated themselves from the kingdom for the moment: in the former Arnulf ruled, in the latter Burkhard, with wholly independent power; and Lorraine had been allied with the west-Frankish kingdom for years. Franconia and Saxony alone formed the kingdom at first; for the moment Henry’s power did not go beyond them. And although he as king was raised above Eberhard, still the latter as a duke stood practically on a level beside him. Just as Henry reserved for himself the full ducal power as he had always possessed it, so also in the Frankish lands it was preserved for Eberhard in the same way; the position which his family had won and established under Conrad’s rule was in no wise lessened. Never again did any disagreement break out between Henry and Eberhard; they remained allies until Henry’s death and the growing state was founded chiefly upon their accord. Henry’s thoughts, however, were not limited to Saxony and Franconia; from the very beginning they had been directed to the union of all the German tribes, and hence he made it his first business to bring all the stems which had once belonged to the east-Frankish kingdom to a recognition of his supremacy.

In the sixth year of his reign King Henry had accomplished the immense task of uniting all the German lands and tribes; he had succeeded in doing that for which King Conrad had striven so obstinately and yet so unsuccessfully. Not with haste and impatience, not with terror and the sound of arms, had he done it; but through a quiet, clear perception of the true position of things and that lauded pacific disposition which would not let him shed German blood against Germans for no purpose. Thus a bond of unity was woven around the German stems, which became more and more close in time and surrounded by which the Germans first came to a clear consciousness of their own nationality. The kingdom as it now stood appears almost like an alliance of states; but out of it grew quickly enough a powerful, united state under as strong a monarchy as those times could produce. Henry had reached the goal which the pope and bishops at the council of Altheim had set themselves and had not been able to reach—the unification of Germany; but he reached this goal by a wholly different road than the one those bishops had taken. Thus it was not they who laid the cornerstone of the German Empire, but the man who had refused to accept the crown from the hand of a priest.

Everything was accomplished almost in silence; a new order of things for centuries to come was established with ease—by magic, one feels inclined to say; endless confusion was seen to be solved in the simplest fashion. It was as when an unknown terror breaks upon a large number of people in the darkness of night—everything is thrown into a confusion which increases from moment to moment, until the sun shines out in the morning and its beams gild the fields: the confused masses then easily assort themselves, quiet returns, and the world beams again in clear sunshine. Henry’s clear spirit was the sun which turned the night of the German lands into day.

WARS AGAINST OUTER ENEMIES

[924 A.D.]

But of what use was all this building and creating if he could not succeed in enduringly protecting the empire against its outer enemies and above all against the Hungarians? However, in spite of the discouragement caused by repeated defeats, Henry did not lose faith in the strength of his people, and fortune favoured the courageous man. For it was fortune that led the Hungarians just at that time to spare the German lands of the hither Rhine for a longer space of time and to direct their attacks chiefly against Italy, the west-Frankish kingdom, and Lorraine. But in the year 924 they appeared again and turned towards Saxony. Everything whither they came was laid desolate. The castles and strongholds, the cloisters and churches, the dwellings of the poor peasants, were all reduced to ashes; old and young, men and women, were slaughtered; again by the clouds of smoke and the appearance of fire in the sky could the path be followed which was taken by the terrible enemy; again the people took refuge in the forests, on the tops of mountains, and in hidden caves. “It is better to be silent on this subject,” says Wittekind [the historian], “than to increase suffering by words.”