The Death of Galswintha
Brunhild’s elder sister, Galswintha, arrived in Frankish lands as Chilperic I of Neustria’s betrothed in July of 568, trailed by even more treasure and finery than her sister had been. At Rouen, Chilperic tripped over himself to provide an even more spectacular reception than his brother had given Brunhild. He marched his army more than one hundred miles west, so they might meet his new bride ‘near the curved bed’ of the river Seine as she disembarked from her ship. Rather than being greeted by a palace hall full of nobles, Galswintha was welcomed by Chilperic’s entire army on bended knee, swearing an oath of allegiance to their new queen. Chilperic never did anything in half measure. And Galswintha was married not in the great hall of a converted basilica, but in the cathedral at Rouen.
Less than six months later, though, a third wedding would take place. No cathedral this time, just a handful of nobles quickly assembled in the great room of a royal villa. A week before this third wedding, King Chilperic and Queen Galswintha had been fighting. As she stormed and raged, messengers were seen riding out from the palace at all hours, delivering missives and pleas to her sister and her mother. Galswintha had caught Chilperic in bed, again, with the slave girl Fredegund. The queen was furious that ‘he showed no respect to her at all’; she was distraught over ‘the insults which she had to endure’. She wanted to return home. Was it truly so unendurable? Yes, to be made a fool of like that. And Chilperic had such a temper! She would return home, even if it meant leaving her enormous dowry behind. One morning, soon thereafter, the palace woke to a horrible scene. Galswintha had been found dead in her bed, strangled in her sleep.
Chilperic did not once address his subjects on the matter of Galswintha’s untimely demise. There were no searches for her assailants or rewards offered for their capture. No one was ever questioned or punished, not even the guards who had been posted at the door of the royal bedchamber that night. It was Fortunatus’s friend Gregory who stated plainly what the whole of France was thinking: ‘Chilperic ordered Galswintha to be strangled… and found her dead on the bed.’
Just months after Galswintha’s wedding, Brunhild had received word that her father had dropped dead, presumably of a heart attack. When the next message arrived, this one from Galswintha’s terrified nursemaid, it was reported that Brunhild went into shock. In less than eighteen months, Brunhild had lost her homeland, her father and now her only sibling. At the news of Galswintha’s death, Spain falls into even greater lamentations, and her grieving mother ‘collapses in distress, her knees giving way’ and faints. The enraged mother of the murdered princess was still a major player in international politics; after the death of King Athanagild, she had married his successor.
The few tears Chilperic reportedly shed shortly after Galswintha’s murder may have even been genuine: he was sad that things had come to this. It was nothing personal; Galswintha was simply no longer useful to him. But Fredegund was. Chilperic was obviously incredibly attracted to her. And his attraction also solved several problems. A low-born woman came without the complications of a powerful family; she would be happy with whatever meagre morgengabe he gave her. Three days later, arrayed in the brightly dyed linens and jewels of her predecessor, Fredegund stood at the altar, smiling up at Chilperic.
Galswintha’s murder has been portrayed in art numerous times throughout the centuries since, and the blame always rests on Chilperic, so much so that illuminated manuscripts and paintings portray the king of Neustria himself, wearing his crown and grinning rakishly, wrapping a cloth around the neck of his sleeping wife. In some versions, Fredegund looks on. Whether Fredegund really urged him on or not, she knew people would always assume that she had, cleverly disposing of yet another rival for the king’s affections.
Source:
Shelley Puhak, The Dark Queens: A gripping tale of power, ambition and murderous rivalry in early medieval
