The People’s Princess: How Radegund Successfully Uses Religion to Wield Power Over Her People

Extreme starvation, prostrating oneself in the cool of night, cleaning the streets with one’s own fabric,  scrubbing the infected sores off of bald heads…such acts may read like lines from the Brothers Grimm's take on the Cinderella story, but I assure you, within Queen Radegund of Francia’s tale, we find power displayed in unexpected ways.

The narrative of her life is told through two individuals: Venantius Fortunatus, a Roman aristocrat and bishop of the early church, and Baudonivia, Radegund’s own mentee in a community of religious women. We can use both authors to understand Radegund’s public perception, as they occupy different aspects of the social sphere. I take their positive depictions of her in the narrative of her life as an opportunity to be quite cynical in this blog post. 

Radegund was born into a Thuringian aristocratic family, taken captive by the Franks, and after much avoidance on Radegund’s part, promised to King Clothar of Francia as a captive wife. I would assert that the very nature of her marriage and upbringing encourages a quest for autonomy from the forces she feels tied to. Because she is a foreign queen, placed in power due to reasons outside her control, she searches for autonomy in a more intangible way: religion.

Religion is Radegund’s connection to the people of the Kingdom, from which she can exercise her power. Her duties to God involve her going out into the community and serving the people. She washes “the heads of men”(3), takes care of the physically needy, and the paupers. Her power is ultimately strengthened with public approval. People rely on her for support, guidance, nourishment, and cleanliness. By the time in which she goes to meet the beloved Creator she has spent her whole life consulting, she is buried as a saint. Radegund understands that in a society where governments are constantly being overthrown — from her own experience as an aristocrat turned captive — public support is paramount, and allowing the public to rely on her in such a personal and immediate way gives her a sense of stability in her position. 

However, it is the public’s support coupled with her power’s celestial or eternal nature that allows her to stand against political threats. She is successfully able to stonewall political opposition with a defense of a duty to serve God, with the help of her people. In one instance, she orders her servants to burn down a Frankish shrine, naming it an instrument of the Devil—and the servants obey. We see here the people acting on her behalf, in accordance with her religious will. 

Due to her connection with the people, through religion, she is also able to reframe ideological concepts within her own community about the role of the queen to fit Radegund’s own will. Baudonivia, as her mentee, gives us the best insight into how she is able to accomplish this. Radegund reframes marriage to her followers as a secular necessity on the quest for her reward in Heaven. Radegund “rejects the sweetness of marriage” (11), as Baudonivia summarizes her as participating in “monastic life”(10) while in “secular habit” (10). Therefore, her quest for power through religion is not seen as rebellion and disobedience, but as a struggle to remain spiritually connected to God in a world of sin and appealing, fleshly desires.

An adequate analogy would place Radegund’s traditional title as queen, and wife to Clothar as a pus-filled scab on the crown of a peasants head, formed by no choice of the peasant’s own, until finally removed. Traces of the scab remain present although the scab itself no longer exists. Her queenship in the traditional sense as the wife to her husband the king, becomes a tiny, faded distinction that pales in comparison to Radegund’s ultimately responsibility to the Kingdom of God. It is a necessary evil. 

Even with the total girlboss move of manipulating religion to her benefit, we cannot ignore the descriptions of the suffering she endures to maintain this connection with God. However, these acts help her survive in a system where religious rulers are constantly under scrutiny. According to our two sources, who I admit are quite biased in nature, the people do not see her as the ruler whose wealth and very existence causes their own suffering, or an out-of-touch ruler, whose status in nature prohibits them from understanding their people, as perhaps other queens in the past are seen. Both Fortunatus and Baudonivia describe her as a “devout lady”(3) depicting her as a “poor handmaid”(3). By making herself the humble sufferer for Christ, she becomes revered in a way that removes her from general public scrutiny. Her dedication to the Lord and her dedication to her people seem to leave no room for her to participate in the corruption or conflict the king and his government might be emitting from the palace walls. She uses the public’s perception to disassociate herself with those kinds of things. After all, she is busy handling God’s affairs. 

Thus, Radegund possesses a dual identity. She is both remarkably blessed in her actions, but also unremarkably average in physical presentation. She navigates both sainthood and everyday-ness, which separates her from the people where it matters in the eyes of God. It also allows her to be among the people where it protects her the most: from public scrutiny and political uprisings that inevitably result from shifting attitudes towards prominent rulers and regional/cultural changes. In deeming her the “People’s Princess”, we can understand both the sources and sustainers of her power, and how she navigates the world as queen.