Rival Queens (Part 2)

or unwilling to visit her husband's body. Any shock or grief that Queen Fredigound felt on that fateful September night in five hundred eighty four was outweighed by her survival instincts. Fredegund knew how swiftly the pendulum of power could swing in the warring realms of Francia, having experienced higher highs and lower lows than just about anyone. If she did not act quickly, she and her infant son, whose existence she had kept a secret, would both be at the

mercy of her enemies. By that point, she had already lost four boys and could not bear to lose another. She had spent years clawing and scheming her way from slavery to the pinnacle of the mayor Vingian monarchy, and she wasn't about to lose it all. So Fredigund fled to a cathedral in Paris and hold up with her baby, cornered but still calculating. Historians do not definitively know who ordered the hit on Fredgun's husband, but it's not hard

to make an educated guess. Fredgund herself would have had an instant hunch about the orchestrator, because roughly a decade earlier, she herself had planned the assassination of a neighboring king king who was the husband of a fierce rival. Fredegund also knew that whether or not that rival, Queen Brunhild, was responsible, Brunhild would certainly seek to capitalize on the frenzied aftermath of the killing, because that was exactly how

Fredagun's rival operated. Sure Enough, as panicky members of Fredagun's entourage fled, Brunhild was already waiting to intercept them with her own son and their robust army. Similar to Fredegund, Brunhild had weathered grave tragedies and engineered stunning victories. She too had once even found herself vulnerably confined in Paris after suddenly becoming a widow. As Brunhild's forces closed in, she was likely unaware that Fredegund had recently given birth.

She was probably hoping that this conquest would help her own teenage son consolidate power over Francia with her expanding role as regent. The news that Fredegund had eluded capture and entrenched herself in a church would have surely been vexing to Brunehild, but probably not surprising. After all, that

was how Brunehild's rival maneuvered. To some the two queen's looming showdown might have seemed like it would finally bring an end to their epic war perpetuating conflict, But for Brunhild and Fredegund, this would be yet one more blood stained piece of their utterly unprecedented puzzle. I'm Dana Schwartz,

and this is noble blood. Quite a lot happened in Brunehild's and Freddigun's storylines prior to where we left them at the end of part one, and in quickly recapping the highlights, eerie parallels and stark differences in their reigns, the narrative practically comes off like a sensational boxing match. In the Austrasian corner, there was the early crowd favorite brune Hild, the highly touted princess turned queen fighting out

of Neustria. There's the underdog Fredigund, a survivor who lifted herself all the way from forced servitude to the highest seat of power available. The early rounds of their battle saw fierce sparring, everything from Fredigund possibly influencing her husband to murder Brunhild's sister, to Brunhild helping mastermind a clever legal claim so that her husband, King Siegbert, could invade

Fredagun's country. Just when Brunhild's side seemed poised to strike a knockout blow, Fredegund came in with a stunningly sneaky jab engineering King Siegbert's assassination. This flipped the whole fight and left Brunhild on the ropes. Nevertheless, she opted to go down swinging, saving her children and getting herself sent off to a convent. This is where we pick back up, with Brunhild stuck desperately figuring out how to get herself

back in the game. Fortunately for Brunhild. In that convent in Ruan, she reportedly found an ideal co conspirator, Odovera, the banished first wife of Chilpric, Fredign's husband. According to some accounts, Otdevera had high status among the insular world of the nuns. This won her certain priviledges and a level of respect from the older bishop in charge, which in turn made her a useful ally for Brunhild, especially

because the two had so much in common. Both Brunhild and Odevera had been deposed by Fredigend and Chilpric, suffering losses and humiliating ostracisms in the process. On top of all the painful and personal reasons, the queens may have wanted to seek revenge against the Nustrian monarchs, immense power and lucrative assets were hanging in the balance. Brunehild's son was in a risky position as the king of Austrasia, since he was so young and did not have her

there as a protective regent for Otdevera. Her own children were supposed to inherit lands and titles after Chilprick's death, except those agreements were put in jeopardy by all of Fredigun's plotting and the birthing of her own heirs. So despite their limited resources inside the nunnery, Brunhild and Odevera yearned to execute a decisive move. Otdovera's connections evidently allowed them to send and receive covert messages, but the all

important question was whom should they contact. Meanwhile, Fredegund was enjoying the dominance that her successful regicide had won. Her sources claimed that her husband would defer so significantly to Fredegund on court matters that he would sometimes refuse to take unilateral action without her approval. As previously mentioned, Fredegund seemed particularly keen on using her newfound authority to dole

out brutal justice. She reportedly regularly sentenced failed assassins, servants, and supposedly disloyal subjects to having their hands, noses, and ears hacked off. There are also several recorded instances of her ordering her enemies to be broken on the rack or burned alive. Fredigund also often pursued her own ends without input from her husband, by bribing many officials and

planning further assassinations. She was so effective in her aims that many Francs, particularly brune Hild's supporters, increasingly labeled her an evil witch, but there appears to be little to no evidence that Fredagund even tried to refute those supernatural rumors. Presumably she preferred being feared, with word of Fredagund's growing influence reaching even their convent. Brunhild and Otdevera knew the clock was ticking on their comeback, so their strategic instincts

hit on the fastest means of gaining power. Marriage. They hatched a mutually beneficial plan for Brunhild to contact and marry otto Vera's oldest living son, who was Chilprick's son and Fredigun's step son. If you're keeping track, bucking norms, Brunehild even probably proposed to him. This is not just revisionist history. A seventh century scribe stated it that way, reframing the bride as the active party in theory that

match would greatly elevate both vanished queen's positions. Otto Vera's son would become even more prominent, and they could then claim that he was the rightful heir of Neustria, undermining Fredigund and her children and Brunhild would be regent as her son ruled Austrasia, and she could be a queen consort. If her new husband overthrew his estranged father, she could potentially become queen of two thirds of Francia. Brunhild and Odevera's son wed in five hundred seventy six in the

same cathedral where Brunhild's sister had married Chilpric. This wedding was much more cobbled together than Brunhild's first, and was also somewhat scandalous, since technically a groom marrying his uncle's widow was a form of incest frowned upon by the Church. But their union was bolstered by several elements. First, Brunhild

and her new husband were not blood relatives. Second, Otdovera had previously gotten the presiding bishop to agree to be the groom's godfather, so he likely fancied himself a plumb position if his godson became the new king of Neustria. And Third, stirring up a bit of scandal was the whole point. Brunhild was trying to stoke a rebellion against her ex brother in law and new sister in law.

Sorry for all the complicated inter family dynamics here, but the headline is this was a power move, and time to get your royal rivalry scorecards out, because both queens were fully back in the ring. Unfortunately for Brunhild, her new husband's army seems to have been defeated in such a quick manner that their downfall comes across as mystifyingly vague in most historical accounts. Nevertheless, what was clear was that Chilbric easily captured the newlyweds. He forced his wayward

son to become a priest. Then, apparently tired of all these scandals and headaches that Brunhild was causing, the King negotiated with her to allow her to return to Austrasia if she promised to completely abandon her new husband. Brunhild's deal making skills were so honed by this point, though, that on top of securing her release, she also bought herself some added time to sneakily shore up her alliances.

Before returning home, she supposedly secretly delivered more accrude treasure to that same enterprising bishop in case he could support her now disavowed husband in a second effort to overthrow his father, and on top of that, Brunhild somehow also got Chilbric to agree to return her hostaged daughters to her. So miraculously, if you're keeping, in a matter of months, Brunhild had managed to escape her convent, return home, richer in gold and allies, and reunite her family so she

could watch over them as regent of Australia. Fredigund may have gained the upper hand in the last few rounds of their fight, but this one went resoundingly to Brunhild. Over the next eight years, both Brunhild and Fredigund both proved to be productive rulers. As regent, Brunhild became a skilled diplomat, deftly managed the squabbling nobles of her court, and heavily invested in infrastructure that included repairing old Roman

roads and constructing a hospital and beautiful churches. Fredegund was noted for her popular tax reforms, as well as for sniffing out plots against her, both legitimate and perceived, and even for her military acumen. The legendary boldness and creativity that Fredigund exhibited especially when her forces were vastly outnumbered. Won her the respect of her armies and inspired numerous historians, writers, and tacticians, but Fredigund also suffered many tragedies through this period.

She devastatingly lost four sons in a seven year span, mostly due to dysentery, and just after birthing a fifth son in secret, her life would once again be turned upside down. While staying at a villa outside of Paris in five hundred eighty four, her husband Chilpric, returned to his stables after a hunt. His party began to disperse, and allegedly, as he dismounted himself, an assassin lunged forward

and stabbed him multiple times. Whether or not brun Hild sent the assassin, momentum was massively swinging back into her favor. The king bled out on the ground, and his death caused such an instant frenzy that no one dared approach the body for hours, being either afraid of associating themselves with the murder or too preoccupied with planning their next strategic moves. Fredigund fell into the latter category, while brun

Hilled and her Australian forces rapidly approached. Fredigund fled to Paris to seek sanctuary in a huge cathedral that was, by all accounts as extravagant as most palaces, but it essentially amounted to Fredigund as an ornate bunker as she

once again had to brainstorm how to avoid death or imprisonment. Ultimately, she would choose a similar strategy as the one Brunhild had used years ago, namely, using persuasive talents as well as a large stash of treasure, Fredigund successfully drew Brunhild and her son's full attention while also drawing the eye

of another influential figure, Guntram, King of Burgundy. We haven't brought up Guntram and his third Kingdom of Francy up much until this point, because, frankishly speaking, his ambitions and actions did not seem to be as consistently dramatic or earthshaking as his brothers, let alone those of his sisters in law. Gontram often fell into the role of peacemaker, buffer or underdog supporter in the civil war. Basically, he

didn't want either neighboring kingdom to become too powerful. Guontram also detested the idea of women ruling and thought widowed deposed queen's should stay stashed in convents, but when needed, Brunhild and Fredegund both found ways to get crafty with him. Knowing that Gutram had no surviving heirs, Brunehilde had managed to make a deal with him to adopt her son as heir to Burgundy in exchange for agreeing to stop

the Australian's war against Neustria. Once again. She was angling to ensure that her line would eventually be able to control at least two thirds of Francia. However, Fredegund was apparently aware that Gutram had done that, and she had also intuited that Gutram was still resentful of Brunhild for wielding so much power. So, while stuck in her Paris cathedral with limited time and means of communication, Fredegund thought carefully on the best tact to take with her potential lifeline.

She tapped into Gutram's paternal instincts, but rather than asking him for any adoption favors, she sent him a message appealing for pity since she had a newborn baby. According to Bishop Gregory of tour Our most thorough source from this time. Fredegund wrote to Gutram quote, let my lord come and take charge of his brother's kingdom. I have a tiny baby whom I longed to place in his arms. At the same time, I shall declare myself his humble servant.

Fredigun's cleverly timed baby surprise worked. Guntram stepped in and he prevented Brunhild and her son from capturing Fredigund and her infant son, and Guntram also pushed for an end to his fellow Frankish country's civil war. For his troubles, he also likely helped himself to some of Fredigun's treasure, so major diplomacy points go to Fredegund here, although as part of the deal she agreed to step away from royal life. But at last there was relative peace, at

least until Guntram died. Soon, Brunhild and Fredigund went right back to leading their queendoms against each other. Fredigund planned more assassinations and again grabbed her throne. Serving as regent for her son, she oversaw Neustria's army and one decisive military victories, despite almost always being outnumbered. At one point after one of her generals was felled on the battlefield. Fredigund reportedly shocked the enemy by leading the neustran charge herself.

At the same same time, brune Hild shepherded her son's reign so skillfully that she was credited with impacting almost all of Austrasia's biggest decisions. The young king is usually portrayed as dependent and ineffectual. In five hundred ninety five, Brunhild's son died, leaving behind three of his own children. Surely there were some tributes to the dead king, but the fact that so many chronicles paid so little attention to his death goes to show how unremarkable of a

ruler he probably was. Likewise, Brunhild's reaction to this loss comes off as murky. In some accounts. It must have been an emotional blow, but having learned the hard way that a king's death could rip away a queen's power, Brunhild prudently secured her position as regent for two of her grandsons. They were nine and ten, and technically the new rulers of Austrasia and Burgundy respectively. At that time.

Fredigun's king son was only eleven, meaning Francia was entirely in the hands of child kings, although not really, the two queen mothers wielded all of the true power, and though both were in their ruling primes, if we were to update our royal rivalry score sheets at this point, Brunhild probably is winning for presiding over two thirds of Francia. Still, anytime Brunhild or Fredigund got the upper hand, the opposing queen would pull off a gritty move to save herself

and her lineage. Astonishingly, considering how powerful and wily they each could be, Brunehild and Fredegund were so evenly matched that in the end neither was able to directly defeat the other and settle the final score. In five hundred and ninety seven, Fredagund suddenly died. She was in her fifties, She didn't seem to have a specific illness, and it didn't appear to be poison. It was a surprisingly quiet end for such a fiery person, and at long last,

her decades spanning quarrel with Brunhild was over. Mostly Brunhild may have outlived Fredegund, but eventually Fredigun's line would get the final say and brune Hild's death wouldn't be anything close to quiet. Fast forward to six hundred and thirteen, brune Hild served as regent for her great grandson, meaning that she had been regent for three different generations, and no surprise, she was helping him wage war against Neustria, but many of their side defected and Fredigun's ruling son

finally captured them. In the spirit of his mother's pensiant for creative punishments, he purportedly had Brunhild quartered, that is, tied to several horses and pulled apart in a grizzly public spectacle. For the first time in fifty two years. Francia became united under one ruler, but Frediguon's and Brunhild's legacies and long simmering hostilities would continue to haunt the

realm for centuries. Although many subsequent monarchs and historians obscured certain facets of Brunhild's and Fredigun's lives, their reigns remain uniquely fascinating and have had meaningful impacts on art and popular culture. For example, Fredigun's military genius was on full display during the Battle of Drozi in five hundred and ninety three, Far outmatched by Australian forces, she disguised her

army with branches and leaves. This made it appear to an enemy century as if the forest were moving, which reportedly got this watchman derided as a drunkard. Fredigund also had her mounted troops attach bells to their horses to make opposing soldiers think they were simply grazing cattle, thus allowing her army to sneak up and steal a victory. These specific tactics became so famous that scholars claim that

Shakespeare borrowed and featured them in Macbeth. Brunehild was also an inspiration for the slightly differently spelled character Brunehild with an E at the end, the lead valkyrie in the famous four part cycle of musical dramas composed by Richard Wagner called the Ring Cycle. This became such a memorable role that brune Hild even affected how vikings are commonly

visualized today. Many historians assert that by outfitting performers in winged and horned helmets, the costume designer of the opera's Cycle nineteen seventy six premiere inextricably linked Vikings with that headgear in modern depictions, despite there being no actual evidence that Viking warriors really wore pointy horns on their helmets.

For many, the name Brunhild might even first conjure up images of bugs Bunny evading Elmer Fudd as he sings kill the Abbott in the nineteen fifty seven Looney Tunes cartoon What's Opera doc. It's impossible to say what brun Hild would have thought about her decades in power being distilled into an animated opera parody starring a rabbit in drag. But on the other hand, in terms of lasting legacies, how many other sixth century rulers can you say have

been immortalized that way? Analyzing Fredigund and Brunhild also brings up intriguing questions about why the two are so often framed as adversaries in a heightened personal feud. On a basic level, conflict obviously sells, and the two did try to kill each other and each other's families quite a bit. It's worth asking whether Fredigund and Brunhild's actions, though, would be discussed or framed in these same terms if they

were kings. Was it easier, particularly from many male historians' perspectives, to frame their relationship as a vindictive personal feud rather than a complicated imperial dispute. To be sure, there was ample fuel or personal vendettas, but there were also critical economic factors in play, treasuries, titles, lands, all up for grabs. Again, Brunhild and Siegert didn't invade Nustria on the official grounds that Brunhild's sister was murdered, but technically in order to

reclaim her extremely valuable land. All of that said, just as viewing Fredigund and Brunhild's relationship through too much of a personal drama focused lens wouldn't reveal the full picture, neither is viewing their interrelated reigns as solely hinging on coldly logical chest moves. In sixth century Francia, it was difficult for women to exercise various freedoms, much less rule.

Yet both Brunhild and Fredigund maintained power for many years, perhaps partly because both were able to affect actively master political strategy and harness deep levels of emotional intelligence. Another possible way to look at it is that instead of a passionate feud being a narrative that was forced on the queen's histories, it could be the other way around.

Is it possible that having such a worthy adversary in some manner forced each other to, for lack of a better phrase, up their game, which then catapulted both to new history impacting heights. Brunehild and Fredigund are each undoubtedly worthy of extensive individual study, but nevertheless, discussing the two as a pair doesn't have to be productive and can

actually be tremendously informative and also interesting. Even today, it's pretty tricky to find examples of two competing female rulers who simultaneous hold the amount of power that Brunhild and Fredegund did. Even with all the violence, upheaval and lingering questions of the two queen's reigns, one thing is for sure, their epic rivalry was unrivaled. That's the second part of

the fascinating story of Brunhild and Fredigund. But stick around after a brief sponsor break to learn an additional method of trying to quantify our queen's power. Attempting to keep score on a rivalry that lasted over forty years may seem silly, but quantifying certain complicated subjects like individuals overall statuses in life was actually common practice for a time.

Frankish law dictated that every citizen was given a monetary value called of airgeld, and if a heinous crime was committed against that person, their family could legally claim that amount as compensation. It was essentially a kind of life insurance policy. Women's verigelds were typically higher than men's and very dependent on their ages and abilities to have children. They usually ranged from around two hundred to six hundred gold coins. For female rulers, the calculus was on another scale.

The killing of a queen could lead to a fine as sky high as fifty thousand gold coins, and, while not always the case, for some aging queens, their perceived worth did not simply depend on whether they could birth heirs, but on how much value they could provide in terms

of their royal networking and ruling expertise. There don't appear to be surviving records guarding specific values assigned to Brunhild or Fredgund, but given their accumulated experience in ruling Francia, as they each stayed in power for longer than almost every Roman emperor and king who came before them. The two queen's exploits surely put them at the top of the all time franking order. Noble Blood is a production

of iHeartRadio and Grim and Mild from Aaron Manke. Noble Blood is hosted by me Dana Schwartz, with additional writing and research by Hannah Johnston, Hannaswick, Courtney Sender, Amy Hit and Julia Melaney. The show is edited and produced by Jesse Funk, with supervising producer rima il KLi and executive producers Aaron Manke, Trevor Young, and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.