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History of the Franks

St Gregory of Tours, tr. Dalton, 1927

Book 10, 15. Concerning the Scandal at the Monastery of Poitiers

Meanwhile the scandal, sprung from the seed of the Devil’s sowing in the monastery of Poitiers,¹ grew daily to ranker wickedness. Clotild, set upon rebellion, had gathered round her a band of murderers, evil-doers, adulterers, fugitives from justice, and men guilty of every crime, whom she now ordered to break by night into the monastery, and drag the abbess out by force. But the abbess heard the noise of their approach, and asked to be carried to the shrine containing the holy Cross. She was suffering from gouty humours, and hoped that it would be her shield in her danger. The men made their way in, lit a taper, and went to and fro throughout the building with arms in their hands, seeking her, until they came into an oratory and found her prostrate on the floor before the shrine of the holy Cross. Then one, fiercer than the rest, who had come to do the vile deed of cleaving the abbess with the sword, was stabbed by a companion’s dagger, methinks not without the aid of the divine providence. He lay stretched on the ground, bleeding freely, and never fulfilled his mad design. Meanwhile the lady provost, Justina,² and the other nuns put out the taper and covered the abbess with the cloth from the altar which stood before the Lord’s Cross. But now the whole band came on with lances and drawn swords. They slashed the nuns’ robes, and wellnigh cut their hands; they then seized the lady provost, taking her for the abbess in the darkness, and after tearing off her veil and letting down her hair, dragged her forth to the church of the holy Hilary to be kept under guard. But as they drew near to the church, and a faint light dawned in the sky, they saw that it was not the abbess. Thereupon they bade the nun return to the monastery, and going back themselves, seized the abbess, whom they dragged forth, and placed in durance near the church of Hilary, in the place where Basina³ had her lodging; they set guards at the door to prevent any succour from reaching the captive. When night fell they returned to the monastery, and not finding any light, took from the store an empty cask, once filled with pitch, but now dry. To this they set fire, and thereby made a great beacon, by the blaze of which they pillaged all the contents of the building, only leaving things that they were unable to carry. This happened seven days before Easter.

The bishop was angered at all these outrages, but could not allay this diabolical rebellion. He sent this message to Clotild: ‘Set the abbess free, that she be not kept in prison at this season, else will I not celebrate the Lord’s feast of Easter, nor shall any catechumen receive baptism in this city until such time as thou order the release of the abbess from the duress in which she is now held. But if ye refuse to release her, I myself will assemble the citizens and carry her off.’ When she received the message, Clotild sent assassins with orders that if any one attempted to take her away they were to put her to the sword. But Flavianus, who not long since had been appointed domestic,⁴ happened at this time to be in Poitiers; by his aid the abbess was brought safely into the church of the blessed Hilary and released from danger. In the meantime men were being slain at the tomb of the holy Radegund, and certain persons were cut down in a tumult before the very shrine of the blessed Cross.⁵ As day followed day, the madness was continuously increased by the arrogance of Clotild; the murders and other assaults of which I have spoken were continually committed by these turbulent ruffians, and her insolence swelled so high that she even looked down upon her cousin Basina from her superior height, until the latter began to repent her, saying: ‘I have sinned in following this haughty Clotild. For lo! she hath me in contempt, and I am in rebellion against my abbess.’ So she was converted, and humbled herself before the abbess, seeking peace, and they two were of one mind and one desire. But now arose a fresh quarrel. The servitors of the abbess, while resisting a tumult started by Clotild’s band, struck down a servant of Basina, who fell dead. These men fled to the abbess for sanctuary in the church of the Confessor,⁶ whereon Basina left the abbess and went her ways. But the servitors once more escaped, and the two women lived in peace as before, though afterwards enmity was always breaking out between bands of their retainers. Who indeed could ever tell the tale of all the violence, all the murders, and all the evil done, when scarce a day went by without some manslaughter, scarce an hour without a quarrel, scarce a moment without its tears?

At news of these events King Childebert sent envoys to King Guntram to suggest that bishops from each kingdom should meet and put an end to these scandals by the sanctions of ecclesiastical law. With this aim King Childebert commanded my lowliness to attend, together with Ebregisel, bishop of Cologne, and Maroveus, bishop of Poitiers. Guntram appointed Gundegisel, bishop of Bordeaux,⁷ with bishops of his province, because he was the metropolitan and Poitiers was in his province. But we began to make objection, saying: ‘We will not go to the place of meeting unless the savage rising which Clotild hath caused be first quelled by intervention of the judge.’ Whereupon Macco,⁸ then count of Poitiers, received the royal order to put down the rebellion by force, if he met with any resistance. When Clotild heard of this, she bade her cut-throats stand to arms before the door of the oratory, to repel violence by violence if the judge should resort to force. It therefore became necessary for the count to proceed thither with an armed force and overcome these men, beating some with staves, running others through with spears, and cutting down those who resisted most stubbornly with the sword. When she saw this, Clotild took up the Cross of the Lord, whose power till now she had despised, and went forth to meet him, saying: ‘Do me no violence, I entreat, for I am a queen, a king’s daughter, cousin of another king; forbear to do it, lest one day there come a time when I shall be revenged upon thee.’ But the people made light of her words, and rushed in, as I have said, upon those who still resisted, who were dragged bound out of the monastery; some of them were tied to posts and beaten grievously; some had their hair shorn, others their hands cut off; others again lost their ears and noses: in this manner the riot was quelled and peace returned.

When the bishops present for the trial were seated in the sanctuary of the cathedral church, Clotild came before them. She showered abuse and accusations upon the abbess, asserting that she had a man in the monastery clothed in female garb and supposed to be a woman, whereas he was most plainly of the male sex; and that this person regularly served the abbess. ‘There he stands yonder,’ she said, pointing at him with her finger. There, in truth, he stood, in the face of all present, wearing woman’s clothes, as I have said. He now declared that he was unable to do a man’s work, and for that reason had assumed this garb. As for the abbess, he only knew her by name and had never seen her or exchanged a word with her, inasmuch as he lived at a distance of more than forty miles from Poitiers. Clotild, failing in her attempt to convict the abbess on this charge, went on: ‘What sort of holiness can this abbess claim, who maketh men eunuchs, and keepeth them about her after the custom of the imperial palaces? ’ The abbess, when questioned, answered that she knew nothing of all this matter. Clotild had now given the name of a eunuch servant, when Reovalis, the chief physician, came forward and made the following statement: ‘When this man was a little boy, he had a disease of the groin, and he was regarded as incurable. His mother went to the holy Radegund, and begged her to have the case examined. The saint summoned me, and bade me give all the help in my power. I then cut out his testicles, an operation which in former days I had seen performed by surgeons at Constantinople, and so restored the boy in good health to his anxious mother. I never heard that the abbess knew aught of the matter.’ As, therefore, the abbess could not be proved guilty on this charge, Clotild began further cruel calumnies against her. Her assertions and the answers made to them being included in the judgement delivered against these nuns, it seemed to me best, instead of repeating them, to give the reader a copy of the judgement itself.

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