There were many powerful female rulers during the early medieval period, but few records of them exist. Luckily a historical fluke has left accounts of two of them: the Frankish queens, Fredegund and Brunhild, as Shelley Puhak explains.
On 14 April, 586, the cathedral of Rouen was crowded with the faithful, eager to celebrate the Resurrection. The town’s elderly bishop was presiding over Mass, but he was exhausted after staying up all night for the Easter Vigil. During one of the congregation’s chanted responses, he rested on a bench. At that moment, the congregation became aware of a figure running to the front of the church, dagger drawn.
A moment later, the bishop cried out for help. He staggered about, dripping blood over the altar until some members of the congregation finally rushed forward to help.
The bishop was carried to his bed in his adjoining quarters, where it was discovered he had been stabbed in the armpit and was slowly bleeding out. The mortally-wounded bishop was soon visited by his queen, the recently-widowed Fredegund, who expressed her shock and dismay and offered to send for her personal physicians.
The bishop refused her offer, knowing little could be done, and spent his final hours calling down curses upon the person he was certain had arranged his assassination.
Fredegund herself.
Fredegund and her rival Brunhild dominated the politics of Western Europe during the latter half of the 6th century and they are the subjects of my new book, The Dark Queens: A gripping tale of power, ambition and murderous rivalry in early medieval France. Both women were born after Roman power had shifted east, to Byzantium and its capital city of Constantinople, and the former province of Gaul was ruled by a tribe called the Franks.
Despite their very different backgrounds (one was born a princess, the other a slave), they became sisters-in-law when they married two Frankish brothers who ruled two neighbouring kingdoms. Fredegund and Brunhild both wielded significant power as queen consorts and then, after the murders of their husbands, both seized power in the name of underage male relatives.
Even though the Franks idolized male warrior-kings, as queen regent Fredegund and Brunhild were respected and feared. They served as royal judges, commanded armies, and overhauled tax policies. They negotiated directly with kings, emperors, and popes.
Brunhild gained further renown for her diplomacy, her public works projects, and for helping bring Christianity to Britain (an achievement pointedly overlooked a century later by Bede, although at the time the Pope publicly and profusely praised her efforts).
Fredegund, on the other hand, became famous for her innovative battle strategies and for her daring assassination plots.
Fredegund and Brunhild were certainly remarkable and formidable rulers, but in many ways, they were not unique. There were many powerful female rulers during the early medieval period (which is generally thought to span the 5th to the 10th centuries).
These include their contemporaries Queen Theodelinda of the Lombards and Queen Languoreth of Strathclyde, as well as later rulers such as Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians; the Viking Queen Lagertha; and Queen Olga of Kiev, just to name a few.
What does make Fredegund and Brunhild unique is the documentation of their reigns. Usually, we are afforded only fleeting glimpses of early medieval women, mentions in chronicles or charters, or sagas or legends.
Not only were women’s lives not as well-documented as those of men, many records from this time period simply didn’t survive. This presents an extraordinary challenge for historians, who must piece together a queen’s biography from a handful of scraps.
Yet a historical fluke provides us with a few contemporary accounts of Fredegund and Brunhild’s reigns. One of these accounts, which survives in multiple copies and versions, is a history written by Gregory, Bishop of Tours.
The bishop began composing his ten-volume History of the Franks shortly after both queens entered public life, and he continued to work on it for the next two decades. During that time, Gregory was interacting with both queens and able to provide a real-time reportage on the events shaping their reigns.
Gregory’s History does have its flaws. Gregory’s organization is less than ideal as his text jumps around in time. Not only does Gregory genuinely misunderstand some events (for example, interpreting weather phenomena as divine signs), he purposefully omits certain details or events, usually to present himself in the best light. Still, Gregory does not appear to invent events outright and much of what he writes can be cross-checked with other sources.
So while his accounts of private arguments likely contain some embellishments, when he reports on events that were observed by a number of people, such as trials and banquets, we can expect that his reporting is close to the facts.
In piecing together the biographies of Fredegund and Brunhild, I was fortunate to be able to draw from Gregory’s account, who recorded not just major events and salacious court gossip, but the rarest of things – actual dialogue.
Over the course of her life, Queen Fredegund was credibly linked, through formal accusations or confessions by captured henchmen, to twelve political assassination attempts, including the one against her long-time enemy Bishop Praetextatus during Easter Mass.
Thanks to Gregory, we can eavesdrop on events that occurred over 1400 years ago, when the bishop confronted his presumed assassin while on his deathbed. We can assume that Gregory’s account is, if not verbatim, very close to the actual exchange, which was witnessed by two dukes as well as a bevy of churchmen. Through it, we get a sense of Fredegund’s self-assurance and unflappability.
“Holy Bishop, your flock and I should never have lived to see the day when such a crime as this should be committed,” Fredegund is reported to have said as she approached the bleeding bishop. “I can only hope that the man who dared to do such a thing will be discovered, and that he will be properly punished for his evil action.”
“Who else has done this thing but the person who has… been responsible for so much evil behaviour in this realm?” the bishop responded pointedly.
Fredegund ignored him. “I have experienced doctors in my household who can cure the wound,” she continued. “Do let them come to take care of you.”
This bishop refused, and then told the queen: “You, who are the prime mover in these crimes, as long as you live you will be accursed, for God will avenge my blood upon your head.”
The bishop died later that day, but Fredegund ruled as regent for 11 more years, enjoying increasing power and success. And despite the bishop’s threat of divine vengeance, Fredegund’s remains reside on sacred ground; her tomb is on display in the majestic Basilica of Saint-Denis, dappled by purple and yellow light refracted through the stained glass.
The Dark Queens by Shelley Puhak was published on 3 March, 2022.
Find out more about this book.
Shelley Puhak is a poet and writer whose work is informed by her love of history. The Dark Queens is her nonfiction debut.
For more about powerful medieval women, you may enjoy reading Annie Whitehead‘s feature Anglo-Saxon women with power and influence and Magna Carta’s inspirational women by Sharon Bennett Connolly.
Images:
- Fredegund by the Deathbed of Bishop Praetextatus by Lawrence Alma-Tadema, 1864: Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts (see terms)
- Detail of a miniature of a poor man warning Guntram, and Fredegund ordering the mutilation of a cleric: ©The British Library via Wikimedia (public domain)
- Marriage of Sigebert and Brunhild, miniature from a manuscript from the Grandes Chroniques de France, 15th century: Bibliothèque Nationale de France via Wikimedia (public domain)
- Frontispiece page of books 1 to 6 of the History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, late 7th century: Bibliothèque Nationale de France via Wikimedia (public domain)
- Torture of Brunhild, miniature from a manuscript from the Grandes Chroniques de France, 14th century: Bibliothèque Nationale de France via Wikimedia (public domain)
- Fredegund’s tomb in the Basilica of Saint-Denis: by Shelley Puhak
