The impact of Charlemagne's school of learning in Aachen can still be seen today, writes Derek Scally
ON A warm summer’s evening, cyclists rattle down a cobbled street past Aachen Cathedral as the setting sun strikes its captivating facade.
Though it looks new, the 30m high octagonal dome was completed 1,200 years ago. For centuries, it was one of Europe’s great riddles.
How, when most of 9th century Europe was still building in wattle and wood, had such a massive, self-supporting stone structure been built? And what was this architectural miracle doing in Aachen? The answer lies in a king’s aching bones.
Since Roman times, Aachen’s hot springs have attracted rheumatics anxious to ease their discomfort. One such patient was the gout-plagued man later known as Karl der Große (in English and French, Charlemagne).
In 768AD, aged 20, he had become king of the Frankish empire that covered most of modern-day France and Germany. He was so impressed by the relief given by the hot, sulphur-rich waters that he broke with the tradition of travelling kings and built himself a palace in Aachen.
By the time of his death nearly half a century later, his kingdom covered almost all of western and central Europe, and Aachen had become a European capital of learning and culture.
No contemporary portraits survive but Charlemagne’s biographer describes him as having lively eyes, a cheerful face and “of proud, strong build” and 6ft 4in, a veritable giant in the 9th century. Not that his biographer flattered his master, noting his “rather too-big nose . . . a fat, somewhat too-short neck and a protruding belly”. He fathered 20 children and, despite the gout, lived to the incredible age of 67.
Charlemagne had two passions: entertaining and war, expanding his kingdom through endless battles, including a three-decade bloody campaign in what is now northern Germany.
Then, in 774, he came to the aid of Pope Adrian I in Rome to conquer the Lombards, an originally Germanic people who had taken over Italy two centuries previously. Impressed, Adrian’s embattled successor Leo III threw his lot in with Charlemagne, too. Accused of adultery, Leo sent Charlemagne the keys to St Peter’s Tomb in a bid for support, then fled over the Alps towards Aachen and only returned to Rome with Charlemagne at his side.
There, on Christmas Day 800, Pope Leo crowned Charlemagne “emperor of the Romans”.
It was a clever power play: by crowning Charlemagne a successor to Caesar, Leo gained the protection of a powerful monarch. Charlemagne, as a believer, saw his obligation to protect Christendom and the pope, and gained further legitimacy in the crowning.
The price: acknowledging that his terrestrial power came from the divine power that crowned him and His worldly representative, the pope.
Neither seemed bothered that, in Constantinople, the Byzantine royal house saw the business as an attempt to usurp their claim to the title.
Back in Aachen, the new emperor began what would become his life’s work: one of the most remarkable schools of learning that Europe has ever seen filled with invited learned men from all over the continent.
Here, the Latin language was cleaned up and countless classic writings from Ancient Greece were saved by being retranslated and transcribed. The effects of the “Carolingian Renaissance” can still be seen today, for instance, in the lower-case letters you are reading now – an innovation of the court of Charlemagne to save parchment space.
In a standardisation drive, the liturgy and the law were standardised across the empire, while ancient knowledge on farming, herbs and medicine was recorded in a massive “agricultural regulation” registry.
“Karl’s political influence is limited, as his empire fell apart under his grandchildren,” said Dr Matthias Pape, an Aachen historian. “But he stands at the start of French and German history and remains the common foundation stone because of his cultural achievements, something which connect the two countries to this day.”
Visitors to Aachen can see the haunted, echoing cathedral, on the Unesco world heritage site since 1978, and Charlemagne’s golden tomb.
The city itself is a pleasant, vibrant home to 250,000 people which, though heavily rebuilt after the wartime destruction, still boasts delightfully narrow streets filled with confectioners selling Aachen's addictive Printengingerbread. Once a year, eyes turn to the city for the presentation of the "Karlspreis" or "Charlemagne Prize" to an individual who has furthered European unity.
The 2004 winner was Pat Cox, but he wasn’t the first Irishman to encounter Charlemagne.
The first, a poet known only as Hibernicus exul – Hibernian exile – lived in Charlemagne's court in Aachen. Here, at the centre of the first European union, he helped lay the foundation stones for Franco-German and European culture, inseparable ever since.
The Irishman wrote: “Do not squander the period generously granted to you/for without learning, the life of man perishes.”
Tomorrow:Quedlinburg: A medieval town of kings, witches and lost treasure