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Chapter 1

Mother, Regent, and Queen

Amalasuintha and the Institutions of Power

In the complex and turbulent world of the sixth century, what exactly did queenship mean? The power of ruling women as it emerged in the post-Roman world had very different features from that found in the empire, which over the centuries had experienced many influential women at the imperial palaces. We have no clear understanding of how female power was understood at the barbarian courts, nor do we have a good understanding of the terminology that described women’s positions at court. After the gentes settled in kingdoms, and after their kings, ruling over both their own people and the Romans, became an integral part of the Latin world, the term þiudans—or whatever word originally indicated the king as the leader of his people, in the sense of the Greek βασιλεύς—was abandoned. The Latin titles of dominus and rex came into common use in the Roman-barbarian kingdoms, where the rulers bore royal titles that distinguished them from the emperor. This change may have been facilitated by the fact that the Latin word “rex” was very similar to reiks, a Celtic loan-word used by the Goths to indicate the “ruler” of the single groups of Gothic soldiers—perhaps similar in idea to the Greek ἄρχων with respect to the supreme ruler, the βασιλεύς, whose corresponding Gothic word, þiudans, could even apply to the emperor.¹ Many names, including those of kings, ended in -rix.² At about the same time, we begin to find the words “domina” and “regina” used to address royal women. However, the real significance of the title and status of regina in the barbarian courts of the fifth and sometimes even the early sixth century is difficult to determine on the basis of our sources. Concubinage, polygamy, remarriage, and legitimacy are just part of the question.

Much of our knowledge of Gothic vocabulary is based on the surviving parts of the Wulfila Bible, which frustratingly is missing all the events involving queens, from which we might have learned a Gothic term for a royal woman ruler. We have to wait until the second half of the eighth century to find the term kuningin in Old German documents.³ But we know that the Gothic word qens—which in the other Germanic languages was spelled with minor variations—signified both “woman” and “legitimate wife.”⁴ Qens could easily apply to a royal woman such as Amalasuintha as the equivalent of the Greek γυνή, which Procopius uses when referring to her. But this term probably did not originally express the sense of the Latin domina, as intended for a female ruler. We do not know the Gothic word for regina. We do find in the Wulfila Bible the term “ragineis,” meaning “adviser” (βουλευτής), and the verb “raginon”—which is not far from the Latin rego, regens.⁵ And while it is unlikely that there was a connection between this word and the Latin regina, it is remarkable that the primary function that the sources unanimously recognize in the queens of this period is their role as advisers to their husbands. They are widely acknowledged as providers of consilium.⁶ But in the world of the tribes, queens were generally not rulers in their own right, and they did not display public political power.

An understanding of Amalasuintha’s political agency is a necessary first step for constructing a biography of the queen, because it provides an important key for interpreting the sources, as well as a cornerstone for the reconstruction of her life at the court of Ravenna. Amalasuintha’s ruling activity and her political ambitions shaped the depiction of her in our sources, including the attribution of masculine characteristics that became an integral part of her image as a woman in power in the Gothic kingdom. An exploration of her political agency necessarily begins with an examination of the status quaestionis on Amalasuintha’s juridical status, and with a careful look at juridical lexicon of our primary sources, including the terminology of mater regens, domina and regina. To what extent was the daughter of Theoderic entitled to rule over Italy?

The “Strong Amal”: A Masculine Woman

The personality of Amalasuintha (or Amalaswintha/Amalasuentha), the daughter of Theoderic, “ruler of the people” (*þeudō + *rika), seems to be reflected in her Gothic name: *amala- “Amalo” (strenuus, industrius) + *swinþō “strong.”⁷ If this etymology of her name is correct, we may wonder whether the name reflected Theoderic’s wishes for his daughter, and also whether our authors were aware of this coincidence. There is no direct reference or allusion to this combination, nor are there puns on words—which Latin and Greek authors usually employ—when characterizing Amalasuintha. Nonetheless, it is remarkable how the voices of our authors are unanimous in celebrating her strong personality. When referring to her political achievements at the palace, Cassiodorus noted her determination and strong temperament, in particular firmitas animi and fortitudo animi.⁸ Even Gregory of Tours’s admittedly dubious description of Amalasuintha’s rebellious nature rested on an idea of a strong female character.

“Masculinity” is probably the main characteristic that Procopius and Cassiodorus attribute to Amalasuintha when describing her activity as regent. In one of several anecdotes in his narrative, Procopius tells an ominous story of a progressively collapsing mosaic of Theoderic, located in the marketplace of the city of Naples. According to his account, the disintegration of this image predicted the deaths of the Amal rulers, and ultimately forecast the end of the Ostrogothic kingdom:

At this time it so happened that the following event took place in Naples. There was in the marketplace an image of Theoderic, the ruler of the Goths, made of mosaic stones that were exceedingly small and tinted with nearly every colour. At one time during the life of Theoderic it happened that the head in this image broke apart, the arrangement of the stones being spontaneously disrupted, and it came to pass that Theoderic then immediately finished his life. Eight years later the stones forming the belly of the picture fell apart suddenly, and Athalaric, the grandson of Theoderic, immediately died. After the passage of a short time, the stones about the genitals fell to the ground, and Amalasuintha, the child of Theoderic, passed from the world. Now these things had already happened as described. But when the Goths began the siege of Rome, as chance would have it the part of the picture from the thighs to the tips of the feet were ruined, and so the whole image disappeared from the wall.⁹

In this process of deterioration, which symbolizes the progressive disintegration of the Ostrogothic kingdom, Amalasuintha’s fate is associated with the “male side” of her father, who is iconographically and symbolically the caput. While the disintegration of the head and body of the mosaic of Theoderic foretold, respectively, his own death and that of his grandson Athalaric, Amalasuintha’s demise was predicted by the falling to the ground of the mosaic stones “about the genitals” or the groin (αἱ περὶ τὰ αἰδοῖα ψηφῖδες).¹⁰ And it is remarkable that the name of Theodahad is not even included in this story, as though he were not a member of the family and the coregent of the queen, and as if his death had not affected Gothic power. The reader does not need to lend credibility to this anecdote to see the relationship between the “sexual” element of this image and several other references made by the same author about Amalasuintha’s masculinity.

From the very beginning of his work, Procopius attributed to Amalasuintha the best Roman virtues and highlighted her masculine nature, particularly when describing the tough, decisive action she had to take in the difficult environment of the palace of Ravenna. His wording is intriguing: on those occasions when Amalasuintha shows her strength, Procopius describes her as (acting like) a man; when she shows fear or loses heart, she is a woman. Recent studies have shown that in the Gothic War Procopius makes purposeful use of the virtue of valor (ἀνδρεία) in eulogizing or in diminishing the kings.¹¹ Of the members of the Amal family, Procopius shows us the virtue of valor recognized in Theoderic and Amalasuintha, sought after in Athalaric, and fully denied to Theodahad, who is ἄνανδρος “by nature.” When summing up her activity as regent, he writes: “Amalasuintha, as guardian of her child, administered the government, and she proved to be endowed with wisdom and regard for justice (ξυνέσεως καὶ δικαιοσύνης) in the highest degree, displaying to a great extent the masculine temperament (τῆς δὲ φύσεως ἐς ἄγαν τὸ ἀρρενωπὸν ἐνδεικνυμένη).”¹² Procopius credits Amalasuintha with Platonic and canonical virtues that he had previously attributed to Theoderic (δικαιοσύνη, ξυνέσις, and ἀνδρεία)¹³ and even writes that “the woman (ἡ γυνή) had the strictest regard for every kind of virtue.”¹⁴ When describing the attempts of the Goths to remove Amalasuintha from her palace, Procopius considers her a female man (ἡ ἄνθρωπος), and he also specifies that she “neither became frightened at the plotting of the Goths nor did she, as a woman (οἷα γυνὴ), weakly give way.”¹⁵ Yet later, when Amalasuintha realized the ineffectiveness of her strategy and began to lose hope, Procopius refers to her as a woman (ἡ γυνή) who, “being unable to endure these things any longer,” devised the plan to leave Italy for Constantinople.¹⁶ The only exception to this masculine-strength/feminine-weakness rhetoric occurs in an episode in which Amalasuintha, the woman, called her cousin Theodahad to answer for his scandalous appropriation of property. When he was proven guilty, she ordered the restitution of the properties to the Tuscan landowners. A careful reading of the text, however, makes clear that Procopius’s word choice is intentional. Theodahad is referenced not by name but only as the man (ὁ ἄνθρωπος), who felt that he had been outraged by the woman (ἡ γυνή).¹⁷ Procopius purposely offers this contrast of genders to further underscore the reasons for Theodahad’s grudge against Amalasuintha—a grudge that would shortly afterward have disastrous consequences for the queen.

In the Secret History, Procopius uses precisely the same wording when praising Amalasuintha for possessing those qualities that he believed Theodora lacked: “Theodora considered that the woman (ἡ γυνὴ) [i.e., Amalasuintha] was of noble ancestry and a queen, very impressive to look upon, and swift at devising plans to get what she wanted; also, she felt threatened by the woman’s magnificence and exceptionally manly bearing (διαφερόντως ἀρρενωπόν).”¹⁸ This time the gendered lexicon is blended in a striking combination synthesizing all the statements that Procopius had made in the Gothic War. Theodora, Procopius suggests, simply could not tolerate this mix of qualities; she “aims to destroy all masculine virtues, even when they appear in women,” writes Kaldellis.¹⁹ Both directly and indirectly, Procopius’s account incorporated rhetorical flourishes and praise common to the panegyrical genre, including the four canonical virtues (these were also employed in the mid-fourth-century Julian’s oration to Empress Eusebia).²⁰ Cassiodorus used these same motifs in a panegyric that unfortunately survives only in fragments. Here he writes of his queen, very likely Amalasuintha (the first part of the sentence is lost): “… surpasses all the kingdoms, you are known to be in command of yourself (dinosceris potens tui). Now, if you are compared with your own customs (propriis moribus), then you are easily surpassed by the noble part of [your] soul (ab insigni animae parte superaris), you who by the beauty of your body (pulchritudine corporis) transcend all mortal things.”²¹

While Procopius offered an image of Amalasuintha as a male character whose ambitious personality eventually roused the jealousy of Theodora, Cassiodorus eulogized the queen in a similar way, with the same combination of Roman virtues and a masculine temperament, in the letters Variae 11.1 and 10.4.²² The letter-panegyric Variae 11.1, also discussed above, is written in Cassiodorus’s name, and Variae 10.4 contains the newly elected Theodahad’s praises of his coregent. In both cases, the eulogies of Amalasuintha mostly concern her regency for Athalaric. Cassiodorus attributed to her the most significant political virtues that could be claimed for a Roman ruler: aequitas, pietas, benignitas, fortitudo, animi firmitas, sapientia, prudentia, constantia. The letter-panegyric itself is structured on the four canonical virtues,²³ the same ones that Procopius attributed to Amalasuintha, along with political virtues and wisdom in government (the same virtues he previously attributed to Theoderic). Once again, Cassiodorus’s representation is similar to Procopius’s. Toward the conclusion of his letter-panegyric, Cassiodorus recognized in Amalasuintha the entire list of virtues, especially the sapiential and the moral ones, which were rhetorically attributed to her ancestors: felicitas, patientia, mansuetudo, aequitas, forma, castitas, fides, and sapientia:

The form of the declamation demands that I should compare the parade of past empresses with her recent case. But how could these feminine examples suffice for one who surpasses all the praise given to men? If the royal band of her ancestors were to look on this woman, they would soon see their glory reflected, as in a clear mirror. For Amalus was distinguished for his good fortune, Ostrogotha for his patience, Athala for mercy, Winitarius for justice, Hunimund for beauty, Thorismuth for chastity, Walamer for good faith, Theudimer for his sense of duty, her glorious father, as you have seen, for his wisdom. Assuredly, all these would here individually recognise their own qualities; but they would happily admit that these were surpassed, since one man’s glory cannot rightly equate itself with a throng of virtues. Think what their joy would be in such an heir, one who can transcend the merits of them all.²⁴

Cassiodorus deliberately claims the superiority of Amalasuintha to the men of her family, going back to her male ancestry. This was, after all, the appropriate way to justify her exercise of royal power in the Gothic world, where tradition demanded male rulers but where Amalasuintha was ruling like a king. Her power found legitimacy in that of her ancestors.²⁵ To an audience of Roman senators, the alternative to the comparison with the men of her family would be not the Amal queens but rather, as Cassiodorus observed, the empresses. Cassiodorus in his panegyric claims that a comparison between his domina and the empresses could not do justice to the former: “But how could these feminine examples (exempla feminea) suffice for one who surpasses all the praise given to men (virorum laus)?”²⁶ In reality, any comparison with recent empresses or especially with Theodora would have been inappropriate and certainly politically dangerous. The letter rhetorically suggests that Amalasuintha’s qualities are less attributable to her Amal ancestors than to her nature. The use of the term “sexus” to signify both Amalasuintha’s motherhood and her courageous regency for Athalaric is especially important: “Behold, by God’s favour, our fortunate mistress has achieved the glory of both sexes (uterque sexus): for she has both borne us a glorious king, and has secured a spreading empire by the courage of her soul (animi fortitudine).”²⁷ Just one year later, Cassiodorus would return to this point, writing in the name of Theodahad to celebrate Amalasuintha as the glory of her ancestors for her successful regency during her son’s minority: “She, who ruled alone with her little son … not only brought praise to her ancestors, but also dignified the human race.”²⁸

The masculine attributes ascribed to Amalasuintha in his letters may find some explanation in the letter’s intended audience: they were both addressed to the Senate. The idea of female rulership was not entirely alien to the Senate, because unlike Gothic queens, Roman empresses could have a degree of recognized political power. But even so, at that time the senatorial audience required justification for a female rulership. Ascribing masculine qualities to the female ruler may have helped Cassiodorus present Amalasuintha’s case: after all, rulers like Galla Placidia, to whom Amalasuintha is compared in this panegyric, had gone down in history as weak and feminine.²⁹ In her study of the letter Variae 11.1, Fauvinet-Ranson fairly observes: “Amalasuintha is a woman, but she reigns as a man: Cassiodorus, like Procopius, presents a uirago, a woman-man, without the pejorative nuance we associate with this word, since in his eyes Amalasuintha, far from being a femme manquée, is fully a woman.”³⁰

A woman, yes; and if not an empress, then perhaps a female king. In describing her virtues, Cassiodorus emphasized the Roman model that shaped the education of the princess and influenced her personality. Indeed, when one year later Cassiodorus, writing in the name of Theodahad, celebrated Amalasuintha, he acknowledged this education together with her sapientia, iustitia, and firmitas.³¹ The virtues listed in the letter-panegyric were previously attributed to Theoderic by Cassiodorus, perhaps representing what one scholar described as “Amal ungendered qualities transferred from the father/king to his daughter/regina.”³² Theodahad announces that his kingdom would benefit from the experience of such a sapientissima domina;³³ by that time Amalasuintha had gained much experience at the palace, first at the side of Theoderic, and later as regent for her son. Cassiodorus represents her as distinguished by her composure and her meditative and silent attitude in public, and remarkable for her determination and incorruptibility.³⁴ Her education included not only fluency in three languages, Greek, Latin, and Gothic, but also literature, which was the primary instrument for learning the wisdom of the ancients (veterum prudentia). With her political wisdom, she follows in the footsteps of her father Theoderic (sapientia, ut iam vidistis, inclitus pater).³⁵

On the whole, the references to “masculinity” by both Procopius and Cassiodorus are meant to invoke Amalasuintha’s strong performance in the role of regent in a kingdom where only a man was entitled to rule and where terms such as vir (man) and mulier (woman) were believed to be derived respectively from virtus (strength) and mollities (softness). Amalasuintha could be called a virago, literally an ‘heroic maid,’ because she ‘acts like a man’ (vir + agere).³⁶ Not coincidentally, both authors acknowledge in Amalasuintha the same virtues they attributed to her father. These virtues and her ability in government made her an ideal ruler in the Roman style.

While Roman Italy and the empire recognized the possibility of female power and the regency, this was not the case for a conservative Gothic leadership unfamiliar with the exercise of female power at such a level. Lacking antecedents, the best way to represent a woman in power in the post-Roman kingdoms of that period was probably the masculine characterization of Amalasuintha. Exceptional bravery in women could be characterized as masculine: Gregory of Tours would years later use the adverb “viriliter” to characterize two exceptional proofs of bravery by queens: that of Brunhild, who armed herself like a man to prevent a war, and her daughter Ingund, who in Spain resisted her mother-in-law’s pressure to abandon her Catholic faith for Arianism.³⁷ But Amalasuintha’s strong nature, courage, and skill in government were never enough to compensate for the “weakness” represented by her female status. Jordanes understood Amalasuintha’s female sex as the main reason she eventually decided to join Theodahad to her rule: she “feared she might be despised by the Goths on account of the weakness of her sex (pro sexus sui fragilitate).”³⁸ As a woman, she had no direct precedent that allowed her to assume the Ostrogothic throne in her own right. Amalasuintha recognized the need for a new institutional structure.

Amalasuintha’s Institutional Position in Ostrogothic Italy: The Status Quaestionis

In late 534, bearing the title of regina, Amalasuintha introduced the newly elected King Theodahad to Emperor Justinian and to the Roman Senate as consors regni, joining him to the throne in an unparalleled manner as an unmarried consort. But was this her first moment as queen? When did her queenship begin? Our sources, both Eastern and Western, do not offer clarity about her institutional position in the Ostrogothic kingdom, and so this simple question has attracted scholarly attention for more than a century. But the canonical answer to this question, that Amalasuintha assumed the queenship upon the death of her son, places us in a logically awkward position: we must believe that she created this new position of consort and selected the recipient herself immediately upon the death of her son, and that they forced it upon a hostile Gothic nobility who had no particular reason to accept it. But a careful examination of the problem suggests that Amalasuintha’s queenship was not a speedy and desperate measure in the aftermath of Athalaric’s death. Rather, it had its roots as early as the reign of Theoderic. Such a radical revision requires careful explanation.

The hypothesis that Amalasuintha did not officially take the title of regina before the death of Athalaric is generally based on the virtual absence in the Variae of the name of Queen Amalasuintha before late 534. It has thus been generally assumed that she declared herself regina through usurpation on the day of Athalaric’s death, on 2 October 534, and that, because the co-regency with Theodahad turned out to be short lived, she was a queen for only a very limited time.³⁹ In an article published in 1889, Pflugk-Harttung gave a speculative but balanced explanation of Amalasuintha’s position: “As long as Athalaric lived, she did not have any rights in this regard, because she was not queen but only queen mother; first after his death she was able by usurpation, perhaps in cooperation with palace officials and partisans, to declare herself a real queen. It is possible, of course, that in ordinary life, by virtue of her birth and position, she was called queen, and that she only gave public expression to the (actual political) situation.”⁴⁰ Almost a hundred years later, Dietrich Claude reconsidered Pflugk-Harttung’s observations in his article on the elevations to the throne of Ostrogothic kings. This work represents the most solid contribution on the subject, and most scholars agree with its conclusions.⁴¹ Claude accepted Pflugk-Harttung’s assumption that, on the day of Theodahad’s election, Amalasuintha’s queenship was of recent origin, beginning at the earliest upon the death of Athalaric.

At first glance, our sparse sources seem to support this chronology. The Variae do not include documents in the name of Amalasuintha that predate the election of Theodahad, but if she had ruled as queen prior to that election, we might expect to find more evidence in the Cassiodoran collection. Certainly Amalasuintha was regina when she raised Theodahad to the throne. Claude’s chronology contains some inconsistencies, however, and should be revisited. Claude rightly accepts Agnellus of Ravenna’s statement that Theodahad was elected king the day after Athalaric’s death, and I shall demonstrate that Agnellus is correct on this point;⁴² yet if Amalasuintha became regina only upon her son’s death, then we are faced with real difficulties concerning both chronology and legitimacy. For it seems extraordinary that Amalasuintha could have changed her status of regent with the institutionalized title of regina, and then, without consulting the Gothic nobility, immediately elected a new king in the space of one or two days at most, without generating a strong reaction at the palace. It is true that things had changed at the court, that she had by this time got rid of her fiercest enemies,⁴³ and that part of the Gothic nobility close to her was heavily Romanized. But these would have been truly extraordinary actions. If we follow this chronology, we must believe that she took a royal title that had never been recognized by the Goths and then elected without consultation a king to take part in a previously unheard-of Gothic co-regency, and that she did all this without seeking any formal approval from the Gothic nobility. Such actions needed a consolidated power, such as the queenship. Claude himself was forced to admit, “The question of how Amalasuintha earned her kingdom is nowhere answered…. The silence of Amalasuintha about the origin of her kingdom could be interpreted as an indication of a degree of uncertainty. Her legitimacy was probably not beyond doubt. The transition from the political leadership as regent to the kingdom does not seem to have been unproblematic.”⁴⁴

And yet, if Amalasuintha declared herself queen under such conditions, the total silence of our authors about this point when referring to her novel and groundbreaking political activity is indeed strange. Procopius dedicated a few pages of the Gothic War to Amalasuintha’s regency, but he never writes that the first lady of the kingdom proclaimed herself a queen; instead, he points out that Amalasuintha invited Theodahad to the throne.⁴⁵ Neither of Jordanes’s works makes any reference to it either. In the four Cassiodoran epistles in the names of Amalasuintha as regina and Theodahad as rex announcing Theodahad’s elevation to the throne to Justinian and to the Senate, the events of Athalaric’s death and of Theodahad’s election are both mentioned,⁴⁶ but there is no indication that Amalasuintha’s own status had changed. Apparently she did not even see fit to report to the emperor and to the Roman senators about her “new” position, the very one upon which her authority to elect the new king was based!

The speculation that Amalasuintha’s queenship began after the death of her son relies primarily on two passages from the Cassiodoran letters announcing Theodahad’s election to Justinian. Both of these passages, however, need to be reinterpreted.

The first is a sentence from the letter in the name of Theodahad to Justinian, in which the newly elected king asks the emperor to approve the election: “Therefore, receive with an affectionate mind also our beginning [of the reign] (primordia) and approve the decision of our lady sister, whom you especially prefer. For if you love me the same way, you will make me in some way equally king.”⁴⁷ Commenting upon these lines, Pflugk-Harttung interpreted the use of the term “primordia” to imply that Amalasuintha’s dominion was something new since the death of Athalaric.⁴⁸ Claude followed this interpretation, stating that Theodahad meant here that the beginning of Amalasuintha’s kingdom was “synchronous” with his own.⁴⁹ But this interpretation is unsatisfactory. First of all, the reference to primordia does not signify that Amalasuintha’s reign had just started, nor does it indicate when it began. Rather, it announces the beginning of the reign of Theodahad as her coregent, and the new king is perfectly aware of the limits of his claim in front of Justinian.⁵⁰ The same word is used in a similar way in the letter-panegyric for Amalasuintha dating from the year before, in which Cassiodorus refers to military events going back to the beginning of Amalasuintha’s regency for Athalaric (in ipsis primordiis).⁵¹ Second, and more important, primordia here refers only to Theodahad’s reign, and the new king is simply asking the emperor, through the usual royal plural, to support Amalasuintha’s decision to elect him; his hope is that an approval by the emperor would make him a king as beloved as Amalasuintha was as queen.

The second passage appears in Amalasuintha’s letter to Justinian announcing Theodahad’s promotion, in which the queen asked the emperor to extend the terms of the peace that she enjoyed, “so that the peace, which is always in your thoughts and which you remember was already conferred to me in a special way, you can further extend in time.”⁵² Claude interpreted this passage as an indication that while Athalaric was dying, Amalasuintha had negotiated with Justinian for a renewal of the foedus upon her son’s death. This may find support from Procopius, who tells us that Amalasuintha consulted the physicians about her son’s health, and that by summer 534 she knew his death was imminent.⁵³ Claude believed that she did this because she expected that it would take months to receive imperial acknowledgment of her new position as queen, though Justinian was basically in favor of confirming her position on the throne.⁵⁴

But did this unrecorded foedus of the second half of 534 really take place? Amalasuintha acknowledged at the beginning of this same letter to Justinian that she purposely delayed informing the emperor of both Athalaric’s death and Theodahad’s promotion. This suggests that no official agreement about her position after Athalaric’s death had ever been made with Justinian.⁵⁵ In addition, in the same account in which he discusses Amalasuintha’s fear for her son’s illness, Procopius claims that the queen had entered into secret negotiations with Justinian to hand over full control of Italy to the emperor and then retire to the East.⁵⁶ Yet if this is true, how could Amalasuintha simultaneously negotiate with Justinian both a position that allowed her to stay in Italy and rule and an agreement that allowed her to give up her throne and retire to Constantinople? Here also, the Cassiodoran evidence should be differently interpreted. It seems at least equally plausible that the foedus was not an agreement about her ruling status but rather referred to the privileged conditions of peace that Amalasuintha at that time still enjoyed. This interpretation is supported by the context in the letter. Immediately after the sentence quoted above there is a reference to the concordia that joined the queen to the emperor.⁵⁷ This peace was perhaps the one granted by Justinian to Amalasuintha a few years earlier, following the war against the Gepids. Consolino recently noted that the rare expression pacem conferre, which is used in this letter with the particular meaning of “to confer the peace,” can otherwise be found in the Variae only in the letter-panegyric of the year before. In that case, Cassiodorus, referring to the victory of the Goths against the Gepids, specified that Justinian, although upset by the event, eventually agreed to confer his peace on the kingdom (pacem contulit laesus).⁵⁸ On this basis, it is more reasonable to explain the quotation above as Amalasuintha asking the emperor to extend the peace that had been granted to her a few years earlier.⁵⁹

These two passages are the primary basis for the traditional chronology in which Amalasuintha became queen after the death of her son, and yet neither really offers evidence that Amalasuintha acquired royal status on the day of Athalaric’s death. We have no evidence that explains how and when she gained this power. What is very clear from our sources, however, is that Amalasuintha had the authority to raise Theodahad to the throne.

Rather than concentrating on the one-day period between Athalaric’s death and Theodahad’s election and talking of a silent “usurpation” for which we have no evidence, we may better understand the royal power of Amalasuintha as a development that occurred during the reign of Theoderic. It was most likely her father who enabled her to use the royal title; this may have happened back in 515, when she married Eutharic,⁶⁰ or in the last years of Theoderic’s reign, when the king was carefully preparing his succession. As the daughter of Theoderic and the mother of the acknowledged king of Italy, Amalasuintha ruled alone for her son; our sources agree that on her shoulders rested the weight of the kingdom. And it is most likely, as we shall see, that Amalasuintha called herself regina in front of her subjects, while her authority and political power grew during the eight-year period of her regency. An analysis of the political lexicon of our sources will help us trace the development of her status and assess her position before Athalaric’s death.

Mater Regens or Regina? Amalasuintha and the Regency

Despite the wide use of the term “regina” in Roman literature, fifth- and early sixth-century authors did not often use the word to designate the wife of the king; indeed, recent statistical studies have demonstrated that the use of the term was infrequent.⁶¹ Chancery sources of the late sixth and early seventh century, such as the Epistulae Austrasicae and the correspondence of Gregory the Great, used it on the headings of documents written in the name of queens or addressed to them, but generally it is not to be found in the body of the texts. For example, Gregory the Great generally addressed the Frankish Brunhild, the Lombard Theodelinda, and the Anglo-Saxon Bertha as excellentia vestra or gloria vestra in the body of his letters, though all were queens.⁶² We also find these and other similar forms in the Epistulae Austrasicae.

Cassiodorus, following the chancery style, used the title of regina with reference to queens only in the headings of letters written in the name of Amalasuintha and of Theodahad’s wife, Gudeliva. These are among the rare instances in the Variae of letters written in women’s names. And this point has great significance here, because, as we saw above, the question of when Amalasuintha assumed the title of regina has traditionally revolved around the use of the term in Cassiodorus’s letter headings: Amalasuintha appears for the first time as regina in the headings of the letters written in her name only after Athalaric’s death.⁶³ Similarly, Gudeliva bears the title of regina only in the headings of the two letters of the Variae in her name, which follow Amalasuintha’s deposition.⁶⁴

Except for one particular case, which I shall analyze below, in the body of his letters as well as in non-chancery documents, such his panegyrics,⁶⁵ Cassiodorus refers to all Amal royal women, including Amalasuintha, as dominae, even those who were queens in other kingdoms. We see him use this terminology to reference Amalafrida, the former Vandal queen; Queen Gudeliva, wife of Theodahad;⁶⁶ Amalasuintha, both as regent of Athalaric and coregent of Theodahad;⁶⁷ and Mathasuintha, Amalasuintha’s daughter and wife of King Witiges.⁶⁸ This is in keeping with other chancery sources from the fifth and sixth centuries. Cassiodorus did use the term “regina” in references to very ancient figures with whom Amalasuintha is compared; these are Queen Semiramis (a regent mother of the ninth century B.C.), whom he praised for having built the walls of Babylon, and the Queen of Sheba, who came to learn the wisdom of Solomon.⁶⁹ But while these documents, certainly the second one, were produced when Amalasuintha was regina, Cassiodorus nevertheless still refers to her in them as domina.

After his career at the palace was over, Cassiodorus composed the introduction to the Variae, declaring that he had often proclaimed the praises of queens and kings: dixisti … frequenter reginis ac regibus laudes.⁷⁰ It is clear that Cassiodorus was referring to his orations for Amalasuintha and Matasuintha, which survive in fragments, as well as to his letter-panegyric Variae 11.1, and it is certainly possible that he also wrote pieces for Audefleda and Gudeliva. But when we leave the introduction and turn to the documents themselves, we find that Cassiodorus, singing the praises of the queens, uses the word “domina,” never “regina.” Certainly, any identification of domina as regina in Cassiodorus’s work must be done carefully.⁷¹ But if the title of regina for Amalasuintha is not found until late 534, this is most likely due to the lack of letters in her name preceding the loss of her son.

Outside the chancery, two authors writing a few decades after the publication of the Variae attributed the title “regina” to the wives of the Merovingian kings with a certain regularity. These are Gregory of Tours in his History and Venantius Fortunatus in his panegyrics and poems. Interestingly, Gregory uses this term for the women who belonged through birth or marriage to the Merovingian dynasty, but he does not grant this title to royal women outside the Frankish world and especially the queens with an Arian creed and/or the wives of kings who were enemies of the Franks. (The lack of a royal title for Basina, the mother of Clovis, is perhaps due to the fact that she left her husband, the king of the Thuringians, to marry Childeric well before the Franks’ conversion to Catholicism). Gregory refers to Amalasuintha, whom he despises for her Arianism, as the filia Theudorici regis Italici.⁷² We could easily speculate that the lack of a royal title for Amalasuintha is due to the fact that in Gregory’s eyes she was technically not a queen. But this is not a satisfactory explanation, because in the same account the author does not use the term “regina” for her Arian mother, Audefleda, Clovis’s sister, nor does he accord it to Ostrogotho Areagni, the wife of the Catholic Burgundian King Sigismund, who for Gregory remains another filia Theudorici regis Italici. Interestingly, in Gregory’s account the second wife of Sigismund also lacks the royal title, as does Theoderic’s niece Amalaberga in the Thuringian kingdom, who was nothing more to Gregory than King Herminafrid’s uxor iniqua atque crudelis.⁷³

Cassiodorus’s letters lack references to two other Gothic queens, Audefleda and Erelieva, respectively, Theoderic’s legitimate wife and royal mother,⁷⁴ so we lose an opportunity to see how he would have titled them in his letters. However, a letter of Pope Gelasius from the year 495/6 is addressed to Hereleuva regina.⁷⁵ As in the chancery tradition, the royal title appears only in the heading of the letter, while in the document Erelieva is addressed as sublimitas vestra.⁷⁶ This is one of the forms that are used a century later by Gregory the Great and in the Epistulae Austrasicae to address queens, as alternatives to excellentia vestra, gloria vestra, pietas vestra, and clementia vestra. While it is theoretically possible that Pope Gelasius simply used this title as a matter of respect, it seems more likely that Erelieva had an honorary queenship, which she possessed by virtue of her son’s kingship rather than through her former position as royal concubine.⁷⁷

The example of Erelieva indicates that in Gothic Italy a royal woman could be addressed as regina without being married to a king. And it is possible that the kingdom had, for short periods, two royal women bearing the title of queen—Audefleda, wife of Theoderic, naturally enough bore the title, but so did Erelieva, Theoderic’s mother, who had never been a regent and was not the wife of a king; rather, she was Theudimer’s concubine. After Theodahad’s election, both Amalasuintha and Gudeliva held the title: the latter became regina on the day of her husband Theodahad’s election or, at the latest, after Amalasuintha’s deposition. This may have been unusual in some of the post-Roman kingdoms, but there is certainly a parallel in Frankish Gaul after Clovis. His heirs’ wives were called queens even while Clotilde, his widow, kept the royal title and maintained some level of authority. But not until Brunhild in the late sixth century do we find a powerful queen regent in Gaul.

Like her paternal grandmother, Erelieva, Amalasuintha was a widowed queen mother. But she was an unusual one, and her royal motherhood played an important role in defining her political power. In both the Getica (probably relying on Cassiodorus’s lost historical work) and the Romana, Jordanes refers to Amalasuintha solely as the mater regens.⁷⁸ Justinian’s 554 Constitutio Pragmatica, which lacks royal titles for all the Amal kings,⁷⁹ refers to her as Athalaric’s regia mater: this expression is a unique occurrence in Justinian’s Code, and it is also very rare in the sources; the adjective regia indicates her royal bloodline.⁸⁰ Jordanes may have been familiar with the Constitutio Pragmatica, which was meant to reorganize Italy after the Gothic war. It was issued about the same time and in the same place Jordanes wrote his two historical works, and in the same milieu in which Procopius completed and published the Gothic War.⁸¹ Within a short but complex passage, Jordanes describes in the Romana the events that took place in the palace of Ravenna during the years 526–535: “But in Italy, after King Theoderic had died, by his own order Athalaric his grandson succeeded [him]; although living as a minor for eight years, he was passing the time with his mother Amalasuintha ruling (matre tamen regente)…. After Athalaric died, his mother (mater sua) made Theodahad her cousin part of her kingdom (regni sui participem).”⁸²

Through the use of the participial regens, which is found almost nowhere else in both the Getica and the Romana, Jordanes expresses the strong control that the royal mother exercised in de facto managing the government. Cassiodorus never applies this participle to Amalasuintha, but he states that the mother’s affection rules (matris regnat affectio).⁸³ To indicate the legal guardianship of one of Theoderic’s grandchildren, Jordanes uses the juridical term “tutor” (tutela), as according to the Roman law.⁸⁴ The use of regens as a substantive for “ruler regent” came into use in late medieval Latin.⁸⁵ The Greek lexicon expressed the tutorship with the noun “ἐπίτροπος,” which was used to refer to those who took care of the children of the Theodosian dynasty. This word is also used by Procopius.⁸⁶ Like Jordanes, Procopius describes Amalasuintha as the mother (μήτηρ) who “as guardian (ἐπίτροπος οὖσα) of her child administered the government.”⁸⁷ Our sources make clear that Amalasuintha was ruling in the name of her son. But the critical point here is that the “regency” itself had never been an institutionalized position. It was not a title used in the empire, though there were numerous examples of strong female figures in the Julio-Claudian and Severan dynasties and also women who held power directly, like Pulcheria, or regent mothers, such as Justina and Galla Placidia. Nor did the position hold an institutional meaning in the post-Roman kingdoms, where regents did not have juridical rights but ruled de facto in an array of situations so diverse that it is often difficult to distinguish between “regency,” “guardianship” and “co-ruling.”⁸⁸

We may also wonder whether, in dealing with the Gothic aristocracy at the palace, Amalasuintha used the corresponding Gothic term for regens and ἐπίτροπος to express her position as regent. As we saw in the introduction to this chapter, the word ragineis translates as “guardian” or “tutor,” and can also be used for “adviser”; and advising was one of the main functions of queens in this period.⁸⁹ Fluent in Latin, Greek, and her native tongue,⁹⁰ Amalasuintha was aware of the significance of these words for the two peoples of the kingdom.

But it was when her son died and her regency ended that Amalasuintha turned to her most radical experiment, the appointment of her cousin Theodahad as coregent. On what basis could the mother of a dead king create a new political structure if she were not already a queen? In fact, it is in the descriptions of this crucial moment that we find some clues about her status. As soon as Athalaric died, his mother associated Theodahad to her kingdom: participem regni sui faciens. This phrase acknowledges Amalasuintha’s royal status that she already held as regent for her son, on the basis of which she could claim the kingdom at the very moment that her son died. And in the Getica we read that it was Amalasuintha herself who made the decision to raise Theodahad to the throne.⁹¹ Cassiodorus’s letters contain the same terminology that Jordanes uses: Amalasuintha had chosen Theodahad as supporter of her regia dignitas, she had taken good care of her kingdom (propria regna), she had made him a partner in her government (consors regni sui), and Theodahad participated in her power (potestatis suae particeps).⁹² The Book of the Popes confirms that Amalasuintha elected her cousin while she was in possession of the royal title, as does the Eastern author Count Marcellinus when he refers to Amalasuintha as the regina creatrix of Theodahad.⁹³

There is still more evidence that Amalasuintha was regina before the death of her son. In a Cassiodoran letter dating to the beginning of 537, King Witiges reminded Emperor Justinian about the protection that he had granted to “Queen Amalasuintha of divine memory”: divae memoriae Amalasuinthae reginae.⁹⁴ This is the only time that we find in the text of the Variae the word “regina” applied to an Amal lady. But here this attribution has a specific political meaning. For Cassiodorus claimed that the former queen was entrusted to Justinian’s protection, referring here to a diplomatic event that took place around 532/3, which I discuss in Chapter 3. That Amalasuintha was “entrusted” to Justinian as regina is confirmed by the Book of the Popes, while Justinian never acknowledged the co-regency.⁹⁵ Cassiodorus’s intentional use of the royal title for Amalasuintha in a letter to the emperor almost two years after her death seems rather to indicate that Justinian was aware that her royal title preceded Athalaric’s death.

Procopius finally provides us with some insight. In the Gothic War he refers to Amalasuintha as the mother and the guardian of her child. At another point in the narrative, however, he specifies that in a time of difficulties she did not succumb to desperation but rather displayed royal stature (τὸ βασιλικὸν ἀξίωμα);⁹⁶ and sometime later she raised Theodahad to royal dignity.⁹⁷ In the Secret History the historian implies that Amalasuintha considered herself a queen before Athalaric’s death, and that this was known at the imperial palace.⁹⁸ He writes that Theodora was jealous of Amalasuintha because of her beauty and her noble ancestry, and also because she was a “woman” (γυνή) and a “queen” (βασιλίς).⁹⁹ Once again, the commonly accepted narrative that Amalasuintha won full power and royal title through usurpation on the day of Athalaric’s death seems inaccurate. Procopius’s political lexicon parallels the Latin sources (a point I return to in Chapter 5, where I discuss the representation of Amalasuintha as a Roman empress). For now it is enough to state that Amalasuintha enjoyed a position of power that was groundbreaking for a woman in the Gothic world and also among other post-Roman kingdoms, while it was not so unusual in the empire.

Domina Amalasuintha: A Woman in Power in the Gothic World

While Amalasuintha’s position as royal regent mother was unusual in the Gothic world, her rulership over a highly Romanized territory and her dwelling in Ravenna—which had been the residence of the last emperors—facilitated the development of her royal status. Because the “regency” had always entailed a de facto status, not an institutionalized position, and considering the inherent difficulties for a woman to rule over the Goths, Amalasuintha needed the royal title to exercise her government over Italy and to enter into diplomacy with the empire and the other kingdoms. Queenship was the only way for Theoderic to leave to his daughter the power to rule for her son, and the need for a “queen” must have been strong under these circumstances. Theoderic’s authority was strong enough to make this solution acceptable to even the most reluctant Goths.

Amalasuintha’s position as a woman in power was unique in the post-Roman courts of her generation, and we have to wait until the late sixth century to find cases in the West that are even partially similar (see the Epilogue). It was not remarkable, however, in the context of the history of the empire, which not long before had known two Augustae, Pulcheria and Aelia Eudocia, respectively the sister and the wife of Theodosius II. Recent cases of virgins and widows active in government on behalf of children included Pulcheria and Galla Placidia. Pulcheria proclaimed herself Augusta on 4 July 414; she was not married and exercised the function of tutor for her younger brother, Theodosius II. Galla Placidia, who is the case par excellence in the Roman West, was Augusta (by virtue of her marriage to Constantius III) when she started to rule for her son.

Italy was technically under the jurisdiction of the Theodosian Code; but it is unlikely that Amalasuintha could base her authority over Athalaric and the Goths on imperial laws, like that issued in 390, which empowered a widow to be the legal guardian of her children so long as she did not remarry.¹⁰⁰ While this law, referring to the Roman concept of tutela, had a legacy in the Bugundian and Visigothic laws, it is hard to imagine that it was applicable to royal succession at the Gothic court of Amalasuintha—and still less in later cases of regents in the post-Roman kingdoms. Still, with Roman models before her eyes, Amalasuintha created for herself a political role so strong that she was in a position, first after the death of her father and then after the premature loss of her son, to develop new solutions of power, including the exercise of the co-regency.

At least in the 530s, our sources make it clear that Amalasuintha had the authority to make decisions about the politics of the kingdom, and even to negotiate with Justinian. In late 533, when Athalaric was nearing the age of majority, Cassiodorus praised Amalasuintha as the ruler of the kingdom. Her military policy, which originated from the very beginning of her son’s reign, proved her worthy of her Amal ancestry: “But under this queen (domina), all of whose kindred is royal, with God’s help our army will terrify foreign powers. By prudent and nicely calculated policy, it is neither worn down by continual fighting, nor, again, is it enervated by prolonged peace.”¹⁰¹ These lines caught the attention of Herwig Wolfram, who commented: “Her ancestors … make Amalasuintha the commander of the Gothic army, indeed a Gothic ‘queen of the army.’ Thus after the death of Athalaric in 534 his mother could step forward as queen and rule freely over the kingdom; the enormous increase of her power since 526 had given her all the means for acting so.”¹⁰² Only one year later she could devise the consortium regni, which many Goths viewed as the final outrage of an ambitious woman.

Amalasuintha’s role in the kingdom is amply attested for the later period. In a praeceptum of Pope Felix IV dated August 530 (one of the years for which the Variae are silent) the pope addressed the two rulers as domini nostri regnantes.¹⁰³ Cassiodorus does the same by using the expression communes domini in his letter-panegyric of late 533,¹⁰⁴ and he also makes frequent references to Athalaric and Amalasuintha as domini/regnantes and principes in letters written in 533–534.¹⁰⁵ In addition, he highlights the activity of Amalasuintha in the government and her beneficial caritas by putting it in opposition to the passive role of Athalaric: “The king is on holiday, and his mother’s affection holds rule (matris regnat affectio); thereby, she so acts in everything that we may feel the protection of a universal love (generalis caritas). He to whom all things are subject accords this lady a glorious obedience…. But we must ascribe this wonder to the characters of them both; for such is his mother’s intelligence (genius maternus), whom even a foreign prince should rightfully obey.”¹⁰⁶ Jordanes confirms the views of the Cassiodoran letter in the Romana, where he makes a similar statement: “Although living as a minor (pueriliter) for eight years, he was passing the time (degebat) with his mother Amalasuintha ruling.”¹⁰⁷ When, in late 534, Theodahad’s promotion was announced, both he and Amalasuintha made reference to this previous time, when she made decisions alone and carried the weight of the kingdom upon her shoulders. Amalasuintha “previously bore the burden of the state in solitary cogitation (solitaria cogitatione)” and “ruled alone (imperavit sola) with her little child.”¹⁰⁸

The Eastern sources confirm the active role of Amalasuintha that we understand from the Western authors. Count Marcellinus refers to her as the regina creatrix of Theodahad, while the Constitutio Pragmatica confirms that Amalasuintha, like Athalaric, intervened on behalf of the Romans. In this document her name is associated with her son rather than with Theodahad.¹⁰⁹ This is because she had ruled for many years beside Athalaric, while it is unlikely that anything significant was done on behalf of the Romans during the few short weeks of the co-regency, which the emperor never approved.

In the thirty-five years that separate the settling of the Goths in Italy from Amalasuintha’s regency, much had changed at the Gothic court. Amalasuintha built her position as a female ruler of the kingdom of Italy progressively, responding to the political realities of the Gothic court. She was definitely more than a royal Gothic viduvo (widow);¹¹⁰ she was more than a qens (γυνή), and more than a mother (aiþei, μήτηρ) living at the court.¹¹¹ She was the “royal mother” (regia mater), the “regent” (ἐπίτροπος, regens), the tutor and the counselor; she was the Gothic ragineis who, as domina regnans and most likely as regina, ruled for her son during the entire length of his reign.