In our last post, we explored what it meant for Charlemagne to be called “The Great”—both in his own time and what it might take to earn that title today. We left off with two large-scale accomplishments: * Your story is beautifully told at scale in a way that endures. * An act of unexpected public consecration by culture, institutions, or by the networked hive mind. But what other achievements were necessary for him to be considered great? A Warrior’s Measure It is common knowledge that he was a great warrior, and because of his skill and army, he was able to rule over the largest part of Europe. Of course, in today’s world, no one can simply raise an army and seize land. So it leaves us wondering: what would the modern requirements for “The Great” look like? As I’ve studied him through research and documentaries, I realize that Einhard—Charlemagne’s biographer and closest friend—wrote about him as if he were godlike, more legend than man. I am sure we can think of a celebrity or person from the 1% who seems this way in our modern times. I think of rise and grind culture, biohacking, and all of the health wearable tech available today. And yet, Einhard’s accounts also reveal a real, grounded man: family-oriented, intentional, educated. The Practice of Partition In Frankish culture, a kingdom was not indivisible but treated as family property. A king’s lands were divided among his sons—an inheritance practice rooted in the traditions of Germanic tribes like the Franks, Visigoths, and Burgundians. By contrast, primogeniture—the Roman concept of the eldest son inheriting everything—was not yet common. For the Carolingians, partition meant rivalry, suspicion, and sometimes bloody reunification. This was the backdrop against which Charlemagne and his brother Carloman came of age. The Feeling of History Repeating Itself As I delved into Charlemagne’s story, I couldn’t help but feel echoes of my own life repeating through his. Charlemagne and his brother, Carloman, were raised at the Royal Frankish court together. While the records of them as children aren’t as well written or documented as Einhard’s account of Charlemagne’s adult life, chroniclers at court recorded that they were trained to rule and fight side by side. Their educations would be steeped in warfare, politics, and religion. Based on how their story unfolded, it would be safe to say that the brothers were close but competitive and that their rivalry was likely seeded early on. When their father Pepin the Short died in 768, Charlemagne was 26 and Carloman only 17. That nine-year gap mattered. Charlemagne was seasoned; Carloman was untested. As co-rulers, the imbalance fueled resentment and mistrust. Soon after Pepin’s death, rebellion flared in Aquitaine. Both brothers were expected to unite their forces, but Carloman refused. Whether from jealousy or fear of being overshadowed, he left Charlemagne to face the conflict alone. Charlemagne triumphed without him. His solo victory branded Carloman as unreliable and cemented Charlemagne’s reputation as a decisive leader. The nobles shifted their loyalty, widening the rift. The Personal Repeat I was recently asked to share my story around the campfire with one of my newest additions to my extended adopted family. I hadn’t told the story in a long time because it usually puts too much weight on acquaintances and friendships, and most definitely in casual conversation. While I remain open about my past, my husband has taught me that leaving a little mystery about myself in meetings and conversations is usually best. I recall that when I was a teenager and even in my early twenties, I would often include a brief version of my story when meeting just about anyone. To me, it was a story of hardship and triumph that I thought needed to be shared. I later learned that what happened to me wasn’t what defined me as a person, and that there were so many better things I could share to introduce myself. When I was 15 and my little brother was 10, my mother passed away two weeks after my maternal grandmother passed from a long battle with lung and liver cancer. I witnessed her passing in the side mirror of my father’s car, as her Ford Explorer flipped several times and then landed in a crumpled state. In less than a month, the two biggest female relationships I had were gone. Some bystanders grabbed me and my brother and placed us in their car so that we could not see the horrific scene unfolding on the side of a Georgia highway. I even recorded in my diary in reflection of my mother’s grief of losing her mom. I wrote, “ I don’t know what I would do without my mother.” My brother and I had grown up close. He looked up to me, and I felt the responsibility of watching after him as his big sister. I was my father’s favorite, and he was my mother’s. He could do no wrong in her eyes, but he had a hard time measuring up in my father’s. I was athletic, poised, and accomplished in music and art. My brother was subjected to many different types of sports, only to learn that he wasn’t great at most of them, to my football-playing father’s dismay. I still remember them having an argument about whether to keep him in soccer. My father explained that he seemed lazy in the game, but my mother countered that every soccer team needed a goalie. To me, he was my little best friend, although I did ask my mother once if we could return him to the hospital in exchange for a baby sister. My father and I slept in hospital waiting rooms many nights until he was born, because my mother had many complications while carrying him. When my mother passed, we didn’t have a kingdom to divide and run, but it certainly felt like it. After her passing, we spent a few very troubled months at home with my father, and were then placed in foster care. We were separated into boys’ and girls’ wings of the same lockdown foster care facility. We saw each other only at meals and during after-school time. It was hard on both of us, and the blame fell on me for putting us in that situation, or so I thought. He offered his allegiance to me, not knowing what exactly had happened to put us in the system, even though he was upset by this life change. The court deemed it ok for him to return home to my father, and that is where the practice of partition began. My father not only manipulated my family but also my brother into thinking the entire situation was all my fault. That I had gone a little crazy after my mother’s passing. We had no communication, no way to reconnect for almost a year and a half. This time, distance, and easy manipulation put a wedge in our relationship that still exists to this day. No matter how hard I reached out or tried to be supportive, the distrust and lack of reliance was sown between us. In later years, I was allowed to come to his rescue, which I gladly accepted. After all, he had shown his loyalty to me before we were pitted against each other, and I had a responsibility to watch out for him as my little brother. This is a story for another post. Widening the Gap of Allegiance After Pepin’s death, rebellions broke out in the Aquitaine region of which was split into both kingdoms of Charlemagne and Carloman. Their armies were to meet to unite to put down the unrest. Carloman decided not to support the cause. Some sources cited that Carloman’s refusal to settle the unrest was political and that he didn’t want his brother to gain sole glory and prestige. He thought that by not providing his forces, he would weaken Charlemagne’s campaign to settle the unrest and cause him to retreat. Other sources suggested the mistrust and that Carloman feared being overshadowed by his more experienced older brother. Charlemagne defeated the rebellion without his brother’s help, making all of Carloman’s fears come true. His solo victory made him look like a decisive, competent king in the eyes of the Frankish aristocracy. Carloman’s adamant refusal branded him unreliable, weak, and overly jealous of his brother’s strengths. From then on, many of the nobles navigated toward Charlemagne, which widened the gap of mistrust between the brothers’ factions. In 771, Carloman died at the age of 20. His wife and children fled to Italy for protection, only strengthening the story of their mistrust, as they were worried that Charlemagne would move against them. Charlemagne quickly took up ruling the entirety of his father’s kingdom after his brother’s death. There was no further record of Carloman recorded after his death or that of his wife and children. He was almost completely erased by history. Adding to the Great List Charlemagne’s first independent victory in Aquitaine was more than just a military success. It proved his strength under pressure, marking him as a leader in his own right. So, to add to our list: * Your story is beautifully told at scale in a way that endures. * An act of unexpected public consecration by culture, institutions, or by the networked hive mind. * A defining first victory that proves your strength under pressure and marks you as a leader in your own right. With this list of greatness getting longer, it isn’t hard to picture him in a suit, with a modern haircut, leading a company or organization at a global level. All the while, facing the internal struggles of family support that many of us do. Winner Winner Turkey Dinner Picture this: Charlemagne’s family gathered for a modern Thanksgiving. Charlemagne boasts about the source of the feast or even makes political points about his recent victory at Aquitaine, while his brother sulks at one end of the table, barely touching his plate. After all, food and plenty were political symbols of peace during his reign. His mother, Bertrada, is trying to keep the conversation casual and peaceful. She tries to make sure that the turkey is shared equall
