![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Jan. 8th, 2016
I had to slightly change my answers for this one when I checked the dates, and found out some of my original candidates lived most of their lives past the closing one. (Anna Commena, Hildegard von Bingen.) However, these people do belong indeed into the early middle ages.
1.) Adelheid of Burgundy (931 – 999): the original badass grandmother (and mother, and wife). Adelheid as a young girl was married to King Lothar of Italy, who was poisoned (not by her) after three years of marriage. The guy likely responsible, Berengar of Ivrea, wanted her to marry his son in order to secure the crown for his family, and imprisoned her when she said no. Adelheid escaped with her daughter Emma and made an alliance with King Otto I. of the Germans, who’d raised her brother. Otto defeated Berengar in battle and married Adelheid. This marriage basically engineered the Holy Roman Empire. It wasn’t a love match (Otto later chose to be buried with his first wife, whom he’d been passionately in love with), but definitely one of mutual respect and shared power. (When Otto was crowned Emperor, Adelheid was crowned Empress right beside him.) Adelheid, who spoke four languages and was in correspondence with later pope Silvester II, was also very active in monastic reform and charity, but what she really excelled at was administration in tricky circumstances. After Otto I. died, their son Otto II didn’t live that long, which meant Otto III.was still a toddler when becoming Emperor. Adelheid shared the regency with her daughter-in-law Theophanu, about whom more in a second, as she’s fascinating person No.2 on my list. According to chronicler Odilo of Cluny (though no other chronicler), the two women didn’t get along personally, which of course any number of ambitious nobles thought they could use, none more so than cousin Heinrich der Zänker (Henry the Quarreller) who thought he could play them them out against each other and end up with the throne. Think again, Heinrich. No matter their personal relations, Adelheid and Theophanu teamed up and defeated him. Afterwards, Adelheid withdrew from the regency but remained governor of Italy until Theophanu’s death, which was when she became regent of the Empire again until Otto III. had grown up. (There was another attempted power grab by the cousins which Adelheid crushed as well.) Then she handed over governing business to her grown up grandson and took on the monastic reform of Cluny, pushing it through. As you can see from her birth- and death year, she lived to be nearly 70 years, which was very rare in her time, and was active till the end. She later became both the heroine of an opera by Rossini and a saint (her day is December 16th), which is a rare combination indeed.
2.) Theophanu (960 – 991). Niece of Byzantine Emperor Johannes I. Tzimikes, which was a let down to Otto I. and Adelheid when young Theophanu arrived in Italy, because they had wanted an Emperor’s daughter for their son and felt somewhat cheated by the Byzantines. However, the marriage proceeded, and luckily it did, too, given what followed. During Otto II.’s rule, Theophanu is already mentioned in most of the documents as co-ruler. When Otto II died, as mentioned above, Theophanu and Adelheid shared the regency for Otto III. (who was three years old at his father’s death), and dealt with Heinrich the Quarreller and other wannabe Emperors. During documents edited during her regency, Theophanu is refered to not as Empress but Emperor (“Theophanius gratia divina imperator augustus”); she also introduced Byzantine style manuscript illustrations, gold smithery and a number of medical advancements to her Northern subjects, and the custom of honoring St. Nikolaus. (That’s Santa Claus to you Americans.) Theophanu died at a young age (for us), but she accomplished much, and today the church of St. Panteleon in Cologne, where she was buried according to her wishes (he was her patron saint), celebrates on her death day a mass for the unity between Christians in East and West (the schism that broke the Greek Orthodox Church away from the not yet Roman Catholic Church happened after Theophanu’s life time).
3.) Samuel Ibn Nagrillah (aka Samuel HaNagid) (993 – 1065): Talmudic scholar, grammarian, philologist, soldier, politician, patron of the arts, major poet – and most powerful Jew ever to live in Muslim Spain. He hailed, of course, from Al Andalus (was born in Merida), and ended up as Vizier of Granada (the Emir he was vizier for, Badis, owed him his throne), a post he held for almost three decades until his (peaceful) death. (His son, who succeeded him, had a far more tragic story, but that’s another tale.) His title “Nagid” means prince; it also meant he was in command of a Muslim army, btw, without ever converting. (Successfully, too; he he defeated the allied armies of Seville, Malaga and the Berbers on Sept. 8, 1047 at Ronda. As a poet, Samuel invented a new style of Hebrew poetry by using the patterns of Arabic poetry in Hebrew. As a patron, he founded the Yeshiwa that produced, among others, the father of Maimonides. In conclusion, if there was ever an individual who symbolized the “golden Age” of Muslim Spain, coexistence and learning from each other, Samuel Ibn Nagrillah was it. Fascinating? You bet.
4.) Wallada bint al-Mustakfi (1001 – 1091). Another Andalusian poet. Wallada was the daughter of the Caliph of Cordova, one of the great poets of her age, and also a patron and teacher of other women of all classes in the art of poetry. (Her most successful protégé, Muhya bint al-Tayyani, was the daughter of a fig saleman and later wrote some affectionate teasing poetry about Wallada.) Wallada had a stormy and mutually poetry inspiring affair with the poet Ibn Zaydun, which ended badly, and another with his arch enemy Ibn Abdus. She died on the same day when the rival dynasty of the Almoravids took Cordova. However, she never married. In short, she was exactly the kind of woman cliché would have it couldn’t have existed in a Muslim medieval society.
5.) Hywel Dda (Hywell ap Cadell) (880 – 950): in effect ruler of most of Wales, and most importantly lawgiver and –codifier. His laws (which I first found out about via Sharon Penman novels, I admit, but she didn’t exaggerate) give far more rights to women than those of any other contemporary-to-him medieval society (including the right to leave their husbands), and don’t differentiate between legitimate and illegitimate children, either. As importantly for the Welsh principalities he ruled and his subjects, he managed to strike up a working relationship with Athelstan of England; this meant no ruinous war (which the Welsh no longer could have won), and practical independence for Wales. I’m not immune to stories of tragic last stands against conquerors, but I’m fascinated by someone who manages to avoid them, not by superior military prowess but by smarts, compromise and diplomacy.
The other days
1.) Adelheid of Burgundy (931 – 999): the original badass grandmother (and mother, and wife). Adelheid as a young girl was married to King Lothar of Italy, who was poisoned (not by her) after three years of marriage. The guy likely responsible, Berengar of Ivrea, wanted her to marry his son in order to secure the crown for his family, and imprisoned her when she said no. Adelheid escaped with her daughter Emma and made an alliance with King Otto I. of the Germans, who’d raised her brother. Otto defeated Berengar in battle and married Adelheid. This marriage basically engineered the Holy Roman Empire. It wasn’t a love match (Otto later chose to be buried with his first wife, whom he’d been passionately in love with), but definitely one of mutual respect and shared power. (When Otto was crowned Emperor, Adelheid was crowned Empress right beside him.) Adelheid, who spoke four languages and was in correspondence with later pope Silvester II, was also very active in monastic reform and charity, but what she really excelled at was administration in tricky circumstances. After Otto I. died, their son Otto II didn’t live that long, which meant Otto III.was still a toddler when becoming Emperor. Adelheid shared the regency with her daughter-in-law Theophanu, about whom more in a second, as she’s fascinating person No.2 on my list. According to chronicler Odilo of Cluny (though no other chronicler), the two women didn’t get along personally, which of course any number of ambitious nobles thought they could use, none more so than cousin Heinrich der Zänker (Henry the Quarreller) who thought he could play them them out against each other and end up with the throne. Think again, Heinrich. No matter their personal relations, Adelheid and Theophanu teamed up and defeated him. Afterwards, Adelheid withdrew from the regency but remained governor of Italy until Theophanu’s death, which was when she became regent of the Empire again until Otto III. had grown up. (There was another attempted power grab by the cousins which Adelheid crushed as well.) Then she handed over governing business to her grown up grandson and took on the monastic reform of Cluny, pushing it through. As you can see from her birth- and death year, she lived to be nearly 70 years, which was very rare in her time, and was active till the end. She later became both the heroine of an opera by Rossini and a saint (her day is December 16th), which is a rare combination indeed.
2.) Theophanu (960 – 991). Niece of Byzantine Emperor Johannes I. Tzimikes, which was a let down to Otto I. and Adelheid when young Theophanu arrived in Italy, because they had wanted an Emperor’s daughter for their son and felt somewhat cheated by the Byzantines. However, the marriage proceeded, and luckily it did, too, given what followed. During Otto II.’s rule, Theophanu is already mentioned in most of the documents as co-ruler. When Otto II died, as mentioned above, Theophanu and Adelheid shared the regency for Otto III. (who was three years old at his father’s death), and dealt with Heinrich the Quarreller and other wannabe Emperors. During documents edited during her regency, Theophanu is refered to not as Empress but Emperor (“Theophanius gratia divina imperator augustus”); she also introduced Byzantine style manuscript illustrations, gold smithery and a number of medical advancements to her Northern subjects, and the custom of honoring St. Nikolaus. (That’s Santa Claus to you Americans.) Theophanu died at a young age (for us), but she accomplished much, and today the church of St. Panteleon in Cologne, where she was buried according to her wishes (he was her patron saint), celebrates on her death day a mass for the unity between Christians in East and West (the schism that broke the Greek Orthodox Church away from the not yet Roman Catholic Church happened after Theophanu’s life time).
3.) Samuel Ibn Nagrillah (aka Samuel HaNagid) (993 – 1065): Talmudic scholar, grammarian, philologist, soldier, politician, patron of the arts, major poet – and most powerful Jew ever to live in Muslim Spain. He hailed, of course, from Al Andalus (was born in Merida), and ended up as Vizier of Granada (the Emir he was vizier for, Badis, owed him his throne), a post he held for almost three decades until his (peaceful) death. (His son, who succeeded him, had a far more tragic story, but that’s another tale.) His title “Nagid” means prince; it also meant he was in command of a Muslim army, btw, without ever converting. (Successfully, too; he he defeated the allied armies of Seville, Malaga and the Berbers on Sept. 8, 1047 at Ronda. As a poet, Samuel invented a new style of Hebrew poetry by using the patterns of Arabic poetry in Hebrew. As a patron, he founded the Yeshiwa that produced, among others, the father of Maimonides. In conclusion, if there was ever an individual who symbolized the “golden Age” of Muslim Spain, coexistence and learning from each other, Samuel Ibn Nagrillah was it. Fascinating? You bet.
4.) Wallada bint al-Mustakfi (1001 – 1091). Another Andalusian poet. Wallada was the daughter of the Caliph of Cordova, one of the great poets of her age, and also a patron and teacher of other women of all classes in the art of poetry. (Her most successful protégé, Muhya bint al-Tayyani, was the daughter of a fig saleman and later wrote some affectionate teasing poetry about Wallada.) Wallada had a stormy and mutually poetry inspiring affair with the poet Ibn Zaydun, which ended badly, and another with his arch enemy Ibn Abdus. She died on the same day when the rival dynasty of the Almoravids took Cordova. However, she never married. In short, she was exactly the kind of woman cliché would have it couldn’t have existed in a Muslim medieval society.
5.) Hywel Dda (Hywell ap Cadell) (880 – 950): in effect ruler of most of Wales, and most importantly lawgiver and –codifier. His laws (which I first found out about via Sharon Penman novels, I admit, but she didn’t exaggerate) give far more rights to women than those of any other contemporary-to-him medieval society (including the right to leave their husbands), and don’t differentiate between legitimate and illegitimate children, either. As importantly for the Welsh principalities he ruled and his subjects, he managed to strike up a working relationship with Athelstan of England; this meant no ruinous war (which the Welsh no longer could have won), and practical independence for Wales. I’m not immune to stories of tragic last stands against conquerors, but I’m fascinated by someone who manages to avoid them, not by superior military prowess but by smarts, compromise and diplomacy.
The other days
