Poem in Honor of Lothar

Poem in Honor of Lothar*

I write to you in the habit of a nun, all glory and splendor of my days of queenhood gone.

No more do my hands deftly create garments threaded through with gold,

It has been ages since a golden tiara has touched my head.

Instead of having my fine torso concealed beneath layers and layers of fine jewelry,

I am hidden beneath loose black cloth, coarse against my skin and unpleasant to the eyes.

But the memories I hold of you remind me of your power to erase sin,

To remove me from my captivity and restore me to my former post.

For was it not you who hath carried the waters of purity,

When Emperor Herold of the Danes was slated to be baptized from his state of paganism?

O you, who dressed Herold’s son in the vestments of luxury,

You have the power to remove all hints of sin from the downtrodden

And to raise them up once more.

Prudent Lothar, your counsel was sought by your father, Emperor Louis,

Who looked upon you not merely as a parent looks upon a naïve babe,

But as an emperor looking upon a co-leader,

A full grown man who deserves to walk at his back and carry on his honor.

Who would not entrust their lives to you, who have slain multiple bears,

Who at King Herold’s conversion celebration have shown your might to be greater even

Than that of the king’s himself?

Son of my lord, stepson mine, I beg of you to check the whiteness of my bedsheets.

Tell me if they are stained with the mark of sin,

If it is really inconceivable that my virtue is intact.

You have blamed me for causing the name of the Franks to fester,

Saying that it is my disloyalty that will rip the stitches holding our dynasty together.

But dear Lothar, you do yourself an injustice when you make such claims,

When you refer to a fragility that does not exist and that never will while you are around.

Why fear the bestial Bernard who runs around and interferes in the business of the state,

When you are here to right the wrongs he causes?

Nay, he hasn’t caused an irreparable wrong, has not disgraced the bed of thy step-mother.

It is simply his rash countenance and meddling in state affairs that will have you think that way.

Bernard is not my lover, nor has he turned me into an unfaithful Jezebel.

He has merely stirred up quite the ruckus in our politics,

But you in your wisdom will right the confusion that has entered our court,

Which will in no way harm the fabric of our functioning.

Remember the days of old, and we shall return to them,

The days in which I was meek and obedient to my husband

And did not perform a single act worthy of suspicion.

That time did exist, when I was esteemed as virtuous as your mother,

Because I was untrained in monarchy and it sufficed me to keep my head out of courtly manners.

But as I began to take on responsibility,

As I saw it fit to administer the dignity of the palace

Through gift-giving, party-throwing, and dignitary-hosting,

My reputation crashed heavily to the floor, like a toddler who has tripped over his own feet.

You call me childish, you see me as inept in some regards,

And if that be my sin, I beg you infuse me with sophistication.

For I have been burdened with our palace’s honor,

A task that weighs heavily on my shoulders,

And it is possible that I am not up to the task alone.

But with your assistance, advice, and counsel, this flaw I should overcome.

And my deeds may merit revision and correction to attain the level of a queen,

But those changes will never occur from within the confines of this monastery.

So teach me with your infinite wisdom, and restore me to my rightful queenship.

Oh, wise advisor and thoughtful decider,

I remember how as a child you moved with all mode of deliberation, without hasty actions.

Reconsider and determine, remembering all the effort I have poured forth into maintaining this kingdom,

Into making it beautiful and welcoming to all our visitors,

The better for you to engage in political dealings and bring us prosperity.

What is Sussa without an Esther, where would Aquitane be without our queens?!

I leave this question to you and your boundless understanding,

which has raised you up higher than your siblings and your precious brother Charles.

My power only enhances your own, I am here as a supporter to you and our family.

I do not swear, as doing so in the name of the Divine is an act of blasphemy,

Yet I assure you that by my life, I find nothing so true to me as the benefit that your honor will sustain.

I dream of the day of immense privilege when I will once more behold your face.

x

*This imagined poem pulls from real events, as portrayed by the following sources:

Agobard of Lyon, Liber Apologeticus, ed. L. Van Acker, Corpus Christianorum Continuatio Medievalis 52 (Turnhout, 1981), 315–319, pt. 1; pt. 2. Translated by Courtney M. Booker.  

Ermoldus Nigellus, Poème sur Louis le Pieux et épitres au roi Pépin, ed. with French trans. by Edmond Faral (Paris: 1932), lines 2168-2323; 2348-2437; 2614-2649 (pp. 166-78; 180-84; 198-200). Translated by Sean Gilsdorf.

Geneviève Bührer-Thierry, "La reine adultère," Cahiers de civilisation médiévale 35 (1992): 299-312. Translated by Sean Gilsdorf.