Note 39 — LECTURE II. The Roman and the Teuton. Comparison of the Political and Social Condition of the Empire and its German Neighbours.
Reading edition
The story of Clovis and the vase of Soissons, though almost worn threadbare by frequent repetition, may be quoted as an illustration of the nature of the power of a German king, strictly limited in peace, but tending to become absolute in war. Clovis wished to gratify the Bishop of Rheims by restoring to him a vase which the spoilers had taken from his church. When the army were all mustered at Soissons with the heap of plunder before them, he accordingly asked that this vase might be allotted to him over and above his regular share of the spoil. ‘Glorious king,’ said the loyal soldiers, ‘we and all that we have are thine, neither can any one resist thy power.’ But one of the warriors—‘envious and fickle,’ says the historian, perhaps in his heart resenting the adulation of his comrades—lifted up his battle-axe and smote upon the vase, saying, ‘Nothing shalt thou carry away from hence except what a fair lot give thee.’ The vase was apparently defaced, not broken, and the king concealing his annoyance handed it to the bishop’s messenger. At the year’s end, when all the warriors were assembled in the Campus Martius to show the brightness of their arms, the king, going the round of his troops, came to the striker of the vase. ‘No one,’ said he, ‘keeps his arms in such a dirty state as thou dost: neither thy spear, nor thy shield, nor thy battle-axe is fit to be seen,’ and therewith he wrested the battle-axe from his hand and threw it to the ground. As the man stooped to pick it up the king raised his hand on high, and drove his own battle-axe deep into the warrior’s skull, shouting, ‘Thus at Soissons didst thou do to that vase.’ Thereupon he ordered all the other warriors to file off from the field, their hearts being filled with a salutary dread of his power.