Historical Tales, Vol. 6 | Page 7

war with all the Franks."
Gondebaud saw the wisdom of these words, and lost no time in taking

his councillor's advice. A troop was sent, with orders to ride at all speed,
and bring back Clotilde with the carriage and the treasure.
The carriage and the treasure they did bring back; but not Clotilde. She,
with her escort, was already far away, riding in haste for the frontier of
Burgundy. Clovis had advanced to meet her, and was awaiting at
Villers, in the territory of Troyes, at no great distance from the border
of Burgundy. But before reaching this frontier, Clotilde gave vent to
revengeful passion, crying to her escort,--
"Ride right and left! Plunder and burn! Do what damage you may to
this hated country from which Heaven has delivered me!"
Then, as they rode away on their mission of ruin, to which they had
obtained permission from Clovis, she cried aloud,--
"I thank thee, God omnipotent, for that I see in this the beginning of the
vengeance which I owe to my slaughtered parents and brethren!"
In no long time afterwards she joined Clovis, who received her with a
lover's joy, and in due season the marriage was celebrated, with all the
pomp and ceremony of which those rude times were capable.
Thus ends the romantic story told us by the chronicler Frédégaire,
somewhat too romantic to be accepted for veracious history, we fear.
Yet it is interesting as a picture of the times, and has doubtless in it an
element of fact--though it may have been colored by imagination.
Aurelian and Aridius are historical personages, and what we know of
them is in keeping with what is here told of them. So the reader may, if
he will, accept the story as an interesting compound of reality and
romance.
But there is more to tell. Clotilde had an important historical part to
play, which is picturesquely described by the chronicler, Gregory of
Tours. She was a Christian, Clovis a pagan; it was natural that she
should desire to convert her husband, and through him turn the nation
of the Franks into worshippers of Christ. She had a son, whom she
wished to have baptized. She begged her husband to yield to her

wishes.
"The gods you worship," she said, "are of wood, stone, or metal. They
are nought, and can do nought for you or themselves."
"It is by command of our gods that all things are created," answered
Clovis. "It is plain that your God has no power. There is no proof that
he is even of the race of gods."
Yet he yielded to her wishes and let the child be baptized. Soon
afterwards the infant died, and Clovis reproached her bitterly.
"Had he been dedicated to my gods he would still be alive," he said.
"He was baptized in the name of your God, and you see the end; he
could not live."
A second son was born, and was also baptized. He, too, fell sick.
"It will be with him as with his brother," said Clovis. "You have had
your will in baptizing him, and he is going to die. Is this the power of
your Christ?"
But the child lived, and Clovis grew less incredulous of the God of his
wife. In the year 496 war broke out between him and a German tribe.
The Germans were successful, the Franks wavering, Clovis was
anxious. Before hurrying to the front he had promised his wife--so says
Frédégaire--to become a Christian if the victory were his. Others say
that he made this promise at the suggestion of Aurelian, at a moment
when the battle seemed lost. However that be, the tide of battle turned,
the victory remained with the Franks, the Germans were defeated and
their king slain.
Clotilde, fearing that he would forget his promise, sent secretly to St.
Remy, bishop of Rheims, to come and use his influence with the king.
He did so, and fervently besought Clovis to accept the Christian faith.
"I would willingly listen to you, holy father," said Clovis, "but I fear
that the people who follow me will not give up their gods. I am about to

assemble them, and will repeat to them your words."
He found them more ready than he deemed. The story of his promise
and the victory that followed it had, doubtless, strongly influenced
them. Before he could speak, most of those present cried out,--
"We abjure the mortal gods; we are ready to follow the immortal God
whom Remy preaches."
About three thousand of the Franks, however, refused to give up their
old faith, and deserted Clovis, joining the Frankish King of
Cambrai--who was before long to pay dearly for this addition to his
ranks.
Christmas-day, 496, was fixed by Remy for the ceremony