Queen Deuteria And The Sad, Strange Death Of Her Young Daughter

Theudebert I was the son and heir of King Theuderic I (r. 511-534), ruler of one-third of the Frankish Empire. Theuderic arranged a betrothal between his son, Theudebert, and a Longobard princess named Wisigard—daughter of King Wacho, an early 6th-century king of the Longobards. The betrothal, however, never progressed to marriage during Theuderic’s lifetime. While campaigning against Visigoths in the south of France, Theudebert, met a woman named Deuteria in the fortified town of Cabriéres. It was apparently love at first sight for Theudebert. Despite his ongoing betrothal to Wisigard, the Frankish prince brought Deuteria home and she became his consort for several years.

Bishop Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), the main source for information on the relationship between Theudebert and Deuteria, was extremely disapproving of the impromptu match. Perhaps, as a clergyman, the bishop disapproved of the disregard that Theudebert showed for his holy betrothal between royal families. If that was not enough, Gregory of Tours also claimed that Deuteria was a widow, a divorcee, or possibly a runaway wife. Whatever the case, Gregory regarded the affair as improper and painted Deuteria as a seductress and a villain.

According to the chronology presented by Gregory of Tours, by the time King Theuderic died in 534, his son, Theudebert, had been together with Deuteria long enough for a daughter to be born from their affair (whose name unfortunately was not mentioned by Gregory). Upon hearing of his father’s death, Theudebert momentarily left Deuteria so he could fight against his power-hungry uncles, Chlotar and Childebert, for his inheritance of one-third of the Frankish Empire. After he succeeded in claiming his kingdom, King Theudebert (r. 534-548) retrieved Deuteria and made her his queen. After they were officially married, the couple had another child, a son named Theudebald.

In the late 530s, tragedy stuck Theudebert and Deuteria. Their unnamed young daughter suffered a sudden and bizarre death. According to Gregory of Tours, the incident occurred near the city of Verdun, where a bridge allowed for travelers to safely cross over a river.  According to the story, the young princess was riding in a carriage over that bridge when something spooked the animals that were pulling the vehicle. None of the guards or attendants were able to get the animals back under control and the carriage plummeted off the bridge into the river below. By the time any rescuers could reach the sinking wreck, the king and queen’s young daughter had already drowned. As sometimes happens after the death of a child, the king and queen suffered emotional stress and eventually separated following their daughter’s passing.

Gregory of Tours embellished the story with some peculiar additions. He claimed that the princess’ carriage had been pulled by untamed bulls and that it had not been a tragic accident, but a horrific premeditated murder. Furthermore, he accused the princess’ own mother, Deuteria, of being the mastermind of the plot. As for the queen’s motive, Gregory incredibly wrote that the murder was perpetrated because she feared that King Theudebert would be more sexually attracted to the young princess than to herself. This is an odd motivation, as (incest aside) the princess would have certainly been less than ten years old at the time. After all, the separation of the king and Deuteria reportedly occurred only seven years after the date of the betrothal agreement between Theudebert and the Longobard princess, Wisigard, which was arranged before Theudebert ever met Deuteria or had a child.

Whatever the truth of their daughter’s death, Theudebert and Deuteria did indeed separate soon after the tragic incident occurred. Eventually, Theudebert made good on his delayed betrothal and married the long-waiting Wisigard. Yet, tragedy struck again and Wisigard quickly fell ill and reportedly died around the year 540. Although Deuteria was still alive, and her son, Theudebald, was her ex-husband’s heir, she and King Theuderic never rekindled their relationship.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (The Ox Cart by Vincent van Gogh  (1853–1890),  mixed with figures by Albert Kretschmer c. 1882, both [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Theodoric-I-king-of-Reims 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Theodebert-I 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Theodebald 
• https://www.revolvy.com/page/Wisigard  

The Comedic And Cartoonish Attempted Assassination Of King Chlotar I

Chlotar (sometimes spelled Lothar) was the youngest of four brothers who jointly ruled over the Frankish Empire after the death of their father, King Clovis I, in the year 511. Chlotar and his brothers, Theuderic, Chlodomer and Childebert often feuded and sometimes even raised armies against each other, yet, miraculously, no brother was assassinated, executed, or killed in battle by another sibling—although, they did sadly assassinate some of their nephews. Even though Frankish assassins did not bring down any of the sons of Clovis, that did not mean that the brothers never tried to assassinate a sibling. According to Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), Theuderic once attempted to lure his younger brother, Chlotar, into a brutal murder.

Around the year 531, Theuderic and Chlotar conquered the Thuringians and assassinated the defeated regional king, Hermanfrid (or Irminfrid). According to Gregory of Tours, it was sometime after the completion of this Thuringian campaign that Theuderic set in motion his plan to murder Chlotar.  The scene of the attempted crime was at an unnamed estate owned by Theuderic. The most prominent feature of the estate, and the royal manor built there, was a large courtyard enclosed by tall walls. Theuderic’s supposed plan was simple—he hired a band of loyal warriors and hid them in the courtyard, placing a canvas or tapestry so that it shielded them from view. Once the royal guest arrived at the estate and entered the manor, the assassins would then sneak out from behind the canvas, rush into the home, and stab Chlotar to death.

Despite the grisly plot, Gregory’s account of the event quickly shifted from horror to humor. When Chlotar arrived on the scene of his potential murder, he quickly realized something was amiss. Gregory painted the picture like a corny comedy. Upon Chlotar’s entrance into the courtyard, his eye was immediately drawn to the single large canvas. The material was wide enough to cover an entire wall of the courtyard. Yet, the placement of the cloth was completely botched, resulting in a gap between the bottom of the canvass and the floor of the courtyard. As a result of this mistake, Chlotar could see pairs of clearly visible feet jutting out from underneath the canvas.

Warned by the un-stealthy boots of the potential assailants, Chlotar simply walked out of the courtyard and gathered enough of his personal guards to counteract Theuderic’s plot. With his posse of well-armed bodyguards, Chlotar reentered the courtyard and confidently met with his mischievous brother.

Gregory of Tours did not mention if Theuderic’s assassins came charging into the manor, only to find that Chlotar’s guards were waiting for them. Whatever the case, peace was apparently maintained and no blood was spilled at the manor that day. With his plan thwarted, Theuderic apparently tried to buy his way back into his brother’s good graces. He grudgingly handed over a magnificent silver salver (a large decorative tray) as a gift of reparation to his brother. Chlotar apparently forgave his brother, accepted the gift of silver, and promptly left the estate.

Adding to the bizarre nature of the story, Gregory of Tours claimed that Theuderic immediately wanted his silver platter back. He apparently sent his son, Theudebert, to catch up with Chlotar and beg for the salver to be returned. The dutiful Theudebert succeeded in finding his uncle on the road and was reportedly able to awkwardly retrieve the gift and brought it back to Theuderic.

The humorous and odd nature of Gregory’s account of the attempted assassination makes one wonder if the story is fictitious or extremely embellished for comedic effect. On the other hand, Gregory personally met with Chlotar’s son, King Chilperic (d. 584), and also met with Chlotar’s grandson, Childebert II (d. 595), thereby possibly gaining some information passed down through the royal family. Whatever the case—history, fiction, or historical fiction—the peculiar story is entertaining.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Frankish footwear illustrated by Albert Kretschmer c. 1882, behind an image of a theatre curtain courtesy of pixabay.com, both [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971. 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Childebert-I 
• https://www.encyclopedia.com/reference/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/childebert-i 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Chlotar-I 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/St-Radegunda 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Theodoric-I-king-of-Reims 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Theodebert-I  

Centuries Before The Viking Age, A Scandinavian Fleet Raided The Merovingian Frankish Empire

King Clovis of the Franks died in 511, and the Frankish empire was divided between his four sons: Theuderic, Chlodomer, Childebert and Lothar. According to Gregory of Tours (c. 539-594), the first challenge that the Frankish brothers faced was an attack that came out of 6th-century Denmark, a world described with legendary and mythological embellishments in the epic poem, Beowulf, and the Saga of King Hrolf Kraki.

In the chronology provided by Gregory of Tours, the Scandinavian raid seemingly occurred after Clovis’ death in 511 and before the ascendance of Sigismund of Burgundy in 516. The fleet of raiders reportedly landed near the Rhine Delta and began pillaging the lands of the Franks and the Frisians. The proto-Vikings (the true Viking Age would not begin until the late 8th century) grabbed as much loot and captives as they could carry and hauled the spoils back to their ships. So much loot was brought back to the beaches that it would take a long period of loading before the fleet could set sail.

Unfortunately for the raiders, it did not take long for King Theuderic to hear of the attack. He gave his son, Theudebert, control of an army and a fleet to defend the realm and push back the invaders. The raiders were not prepared for the quick response—at the time, their fleet was divided, with some ships at sea and others still being loaded on shore. While the raiding forces were in disarray, Theudebert arrived with an army of Franks and, likely helped by regional allies, slew the Scandinavian king who had led the invasion. The Frankish fleet also intercepted the foreign ships that were at sea and evidently captured the vessels, for Theudebert’s forces supposedly retrieved all of the looted wealth that had been taken by the raiders.

Gregory of Tours identified the slain leader of the raid as a certain King Chlochilaich, who ruled a piece of Denmark. Many scholars believe this king was the historical inspiration behind the character, King Hygelac of Geatland, from Beowulf.  Of Hygelac’s death, the poem stated:

“The war-hatred waxed warm ‘gainst the Hugmen,

When Hygelac came with an army of vessels

Faring to Friesland, where the Frankmen in battle

Humbled him and bravely with overmight ‘complished

That the mail-clad warrior must sink in the battle,

Fell ‘mid his folk-troop.”

(Beowulf, chapter XL, line 22-27)

The 6th-century raid of King Chlochilaich/Hygelac turned out to be a dismal failure, yet the man was more than two centuries ahead of his time. Although the Scandinavian fleet was too slow and unorganized to get away from the Franks on this occasion, the countrymen of Chlochilaich/Hygelac would continue to hone their craft over generations to become fine-tuned raiding machines by the late 8th-century.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (A scene from Beowulf by J. R. Skelton (c. 1908), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Franks by Gregory of Tours, translated by Lewis Thorpe. New York: Penguin Classics, 1971.
• The Saga of King Hrolf Kraki, written by an anonymous Icelander in the 14th century, translated by Jesse Byock. New York: Penguin Classics, 1998. 
• https://www.gutenberg.org/files/16328/16328-h/16328-h.htm#L.XXXI.56 (Beowulf text)
• https://www.britannica.com/place/France/The-sons-of-Clovis/media/215768/1628