BRUNHILD AND FREDEGONDE.
At the monastery the banquet was in full swing. Convivial cordiality presided over the celebration. At the table where Loysik, Ronan, the Master of the Hounds and their respective families were seated, the conversation continued animated and lively. At this moment the subject was the atrocities that took place in the gloomy palace of Queen Brunhild. The happy inhabitants of the Valley listened to the horrible account with the greedy, uneasy and shuddering curiosity that is often felt at night when, seated by a peaceful hearth, one hears some awe-inspiring history. Happy, humble and unknown, the listeners feel certain they will never find themselves concerned in any adventure of the frightful nature of the one that causes them to shudder; they fear and yet they like to hear the end of the tale.
"In order to unravel the sanguinary tangle, and seeing that Brunhild, the present ruler of Burgundy, is the theme, let us first sum up the facts in a few words. Clotaire died not long after he had his son Chram, together with the latter's wife and daughter, burned alive. That was about fifty-three years ago. Is it not so?" Ronan was saying.
"Yes, father," answered Gregory; "we are now in the year 613."
"Clotaire left four sons—Charibert reigned in Paris, Gontran was King of Orleans and Bourges, Sigebert was King of Austrasia and resided in Metz, and Chilperic was left King of Neustria, occupying the royal residence of Soissons, our conquerors, as you know, having given the names of Neustria and Austrasia to the provinces of the north and the east of Gaul."
"Did you say Chilperic, father?" asked Ronan's son. "Chilperic, the Nero of Gaul, one of whose edicts closed with these words: 'Let whomsoever refuses obedience to this law have his eyes put out!'"
"Yes, we were speaking of him and of his brother Sigebert. Let us leave the other two aside, seeing that both Charibert and Gontran died childless, the former in 566, the latter in 593. Although they both showed themselves worthy descendants of Clovis, they need not now occupy us."
"Father, the account that we wish to hear is that of Brunhild and Fredegonde. These two names seem to be inseparable and are both steeped in blood—"
"I am coming to the history of these two monsters and of their two husbands, Chilperic and Sigebert—the two she-wolves have each her wolf, and, what is still worse for Gaul, her whelps. Although married to Andowere, Chilperic had among his numerous concubines a Frankish female slave, a woman of dazzling beauty, and endowed, it is said, with an irresistible power of seduction. Her name was Fredegonde. He became so fascinated with her that, in order to enjoy the company of the slave with utter freedom, he cast off his wife Andowere, who soon thereupon died, in a convent. But Chilperic presently tired of Fredegonde also, and, anxious to emulate his brother Sigebert, who married a princess of royal blood named Brunhild, the daughter of Athanagild, a King of Germanic stock like the Franks, and whose ancestors conquered Spain as Clovis did Gaul, he asked and obtained the hand of Brunhild's sister, Galeswinthe. It is said that nothing was comparable with the sweetness of the face of this princess, while the goodness of her heart matched the angelic qualities of her face. When she was about to leave Spain to come to Gaul and marry Chilperic, the unhappy soul had sad presentiments of a speedy death. Nor did her presentiments deceive her. Six years after her marriage she was smothered to death in her bed by her own husband."
"Like Wisigarde, the fourth wife of Neroweg, who was strangled to death by that Frankish count, whose family still lives in Auvergne," remarked Gregory. "The Frankish kings and seigneurs all follow the same custom."