(ABOUT A.D. 670.)
[Roman and other Martyrologies. In some, however, on Jan. 27th; at
Paris on Jan. 30th. Authorities: her life by two contemporary
writers. The first is in plain unpolished style. Its date appears
from allusions such as this:--"The venerable Theudofred, who is now
bishop, was then abbot." "The illustrious offspring of Bathild, now
reigning, &c." The writer of the other expressly states that he had
seen and known the virtues of her whom he describes.]
Archimbold, mayor of the palace, in the reign of Dagobert, King of
France, bought a slender fair-haired English slave girl. The name of
this girl was Bathild, given her probably because of her work, for the
name signifies "the damsel of the lady's bower."[125] In service she
grew up to woman's estate, and was very beautiful, but, withal, adorned
with a meek and quiet spirit.
She is thus described by one of her biographers:--"Her pious and
admirable conversation attracted the admiration of the prince, and all
his ministers. For she was of a benignant spirit and sober manners,
prudent and shy, never scheming evil, never light in talk, or pert in
speech; but in all her actions upright. She was of Saxon race, in shape
graceful and pleasing, with a bright face and a staid gait, and as such,
she found favour with the prince, so that he constituted her his
cup-bearer, and as such, dealing honestly, she stood often by him
ministering to him. But so far from being lifted up by her position, she
showed the utmost humility to her fellow-servants, cheerfully obeying
them, ministering reverently to her elders, often taking their shoes off
for them, scraping and cleaning them, and bringing them their washing
water, and mending their clothes also. All this she did without a
murmur, with gentle and pious alacrity."
Now it fell out that Archimbold lost his wife, and he looked about for
one to fill her place. Then his glance rested on the fair-haired,
blue-eyed Saxon maid, so kindly and so obliging. But when he announced
that it was his intention to make her his wife, she was so alarmed that
she hid herself among the under maids of the kitchen, dishevelled her
light hair, begrimed her face, and worked in rags, so that the mayor
supposed she had gone clean away, and after a while forgot her, and
possibly thinking that such a match might have been after all a mistake,
he married some one else. Then Bathild shook her tatters off, braided
her flaxen hair, washed her sunny face, and shone forth in her
accustomed place. But she had fled the mayor to catch the king. How
Clovis became attached to her is not recorded; possibly he had long
noticed the meek maiden at the mayor's elbow filling his wine goblet,
and her disappearance had made him aware of the strength of his passion.
Certain it is that shortly after, he asked her to be his lawful wife,
and to sit at his side on the throne of France. There was no escaping a
king; and at the age of nineteen, in 649, she was married accordingly to
Clovis II. As queen she exercised a most salutary influence over the
mind of her husband, and persuaded him to enact many salutary laws. She
became a nursing mother to the Church in France, and exerted herself to
the utmost of her power to relieve the necessities of the poor, and
ameliorate the condition of the serfs. She bore her husband three sons,
who all successively wore the crown, Clothaire III., Childeric II., and
Thierry I. After six years of married life, in 655, Bathild was left a
widow, when her eldest son was only five years old. She then became
regent of the kingdom. The gentle queen remembered her sorrows as a
slave, and resolved to become the benefactress of the slave. Slavery was
universally and firmly established in France. To root out such an
institution at once was impossible; it could only be done with caution,
lest it should alarm and rouse to opposition the great slave owners. She
had sufficient penetration to discover the great cause of slavery in
France. The old Gallic population was crushed beneath an enormous tax,
to pay which mothers were obliged to sell their children, and which
reduced into bondage those unfortunates who could not pay. This impost
she abolished, and thereby cut off the source of slavery. She also
forbade the retention or purchase of Christian slaves; but, to save
vested interests, this law did not emancipate those already in bonds,
but was of future operation only. She employed, moreover, all the money
she could spare in the purchase out of bondage of such children as
mothers had sold, out of dire necessity. She also sent ambassadors to
all the European courts, to announce that the sale of French subjects
was strictly forbidden, and that any slave who should set foot on French
soil would be held from that moment to be free.
Bathild also founded a large number of religious houses. France was then
overspread with forests; vast districts were pathless wildernesses,
uninhabited by men. Old cities which had thriven under the Roman empire
had fallen into ruins, and the wolf made his lair in the deserted
chambers. How was all this desolation to be remedied, this waste land
to be reclaimed? A number of men must be gathered together at certain
spots, and these must become civilizing centres, diffusing knowledge
amongst the people, and cultivating the soil. Such were the monasteries.
They were dotted about in the wildest parts of the vast woods, and
little by little the trees were cleared away about them, and pastures
and corn land usurped their place, and with the advance of agriculture,
civilization spread. Bathild founded Corbie, Chelles, and Jumièges,
besides others of less note. Towards the close of her days, when her son
Clothaire was of an age to govern, she retired into the monastery of
Chelles, where she finished her days in peace, dying at the age of
fifty, in 680.