Rycheza Piast, August of Poland, 1070-1084, Duchess of Podlasia 1087-1092
I was born in the year of our lord 1070, the eldest child of the Most Beloved King Boleslaw, the Second, ruler of the Polish peoples, and Ragnhild Maria, daughter of King Harald Sigurdarsson, called “Hardraada”, of Norway. I was christened with the name Rycheza, in the honour of my great-grandmother, Richeza von Bonngau, Queen of Poland, and of my father’s aunt, Ryksa, Queen of Hungary. In the following years I was joined by eight sisters, two of whom died young; Smiechna (1071-72, A.D) and Aldona (1072-74,A.D), and also Gertruda (in 1073AD) Pechna (in the December of 1074,AD) Krystyna (in 1076AD) Thorborg (in 1082AD) and Gudrid (in 1085AD).
My father, King Boleslaw, called ‘the Great’, by the common peasantry, was a great warrior king, and was often away for months on end campaigning against the pagan chiefs, of the Pommeranians, the Yatviags, the Pechenegs, the Cumans, and the Alans.
For many years my father’s lack of a legitimate male heir greatly plagued the minds of the Polish nobles. Even more so was the constant desire of my uncle Wladyslaw Herman, Duke of Mazovia, to forcibly expel my father from the throne. It was only the timely interventions of my grandmother, the Queen Dowager Dobronega Maria, and father came to believe that as far as he remained successful on the field, then he would remain on his throne. Wladyslaw was best known for his matrimonial tangles, and so it was often that I would go with father to Plock, where Wladyslaw held his court, to attend a wedding. It pained me that one evil, cold-hearted man could take any women he chose for himself, and then dispose of them as soon as he tired of them, confining them to cold, uninviting monasteries, a life of solitude, or even death: but then what did the life of one little woman matter in the great scheme of things?
But alas, it was not so for me. Having no legitimate male heir, my father made me Augusta, his heiress, the successor to a king whom the common populace had already turned into a semi-divine being. However, I was under no illusions that I would be able to rule Poland effectively by my own merit; if I was to rule, it would no doubt be as the silent wife of some strong, foreign power. From a young age I recall foreign princes coming to Krakow, sometimes several summers in sequence, to press father for my hand in marriage, for themselves, or their eldest sons. Although I was never destined to become a great beauty, I was showered with flattery, and pressed to confirm my desire to learn some foreign tongue and marry a prince I had never seen.
Of these suitors, I believe only two were ever taken with any seriousness by my father. King Geza of Hungary, a first cousin of my father, wished to marry me to his eldest son, Kalman, and even proposed to divide Poland between myself, Wladyslaw Herman, and my bastard brother Prendota: Wladyslaw was to have Mazovia, Podlasia, Prussia, and most of eastern Poland, Predonta was to renounce his lands in Pommerania, and be compensated with rule of the lands of the Alans and Cumans, leaving Pommerania, western and central Poland, and the lands taken from the Pechenegs, as my dowry, giving Hungary access not only to the Baltic but also to the Black Sea. Father gave the union much thought, but the Polish nobles, many of whom had gained extensive lands in Prussia and in the lands once ruled by the Pechenengs, refused to accept a division of the land, and so Geza’s offers of a marriage between me and Kalman were curtly refused.
The Emperor Heinrich had for a long time been eager to check the continued growth of my father’s kingdom, and as time passed, and no son was born to my mother, he saw an opportunity present itself. He hoped that a personal union, in the person of the prince Karloman, and myself, could bring about an even grander German empire, stretching from the Mediterranean, to the Baltic, to the Black Sea, rivalling the eastern Empire in all aspects; it was even said the Emperor dreamed of uniting the two empires under his rule. Yet this union was also rejected, as the Poles would never accept German rule, and Heinrich demanded as conditions for the marriage the cessation of Silesia and Pommerania to Germany, so that should the personal union dissolve (as it would, should I fail to bear Karloman any surviving heirs) those lands should permanently become part of the Emperor’s personal demesne. Later, he attempted to propose a marriage between me and his right-hand man, a certain Bertrand, count of Venaissin, but nothing came of this.
I think now I should take some time to describe my relationship to my bastard brother, Prendota. Although my father fathered several bastards, Prendota was the only one not to be packed off to a distant German monastery, or to die young. It was said my father especially cherished him as his first-born (albeit illegitimate) son, and out of the love he had borne the boy’s mother. Unlike my father’s other mistresses, Prendota’s mother was not a lowborn servant, but a Polish noblewoman related to the Rawicz and Lis families, who died soon after the boy’s birth. My mother, being a fiery Scandinavian princess, refused at first to raise the child, but sometime after 1082 he joined us at the court, where he received an extensive education, learning fluent Latin, and German, and also some Norse from my mother. From a young age Prendota was showered with lands and titles, becoming Duke of Pommerania (December 1074) Krakow (August 1078) and Alania (March 1084). Many believed that Prendota should succeed my father, or at least receive a large portion of the kingdom, but I do not know what Prendota’s personal wishes were. Although I bore him no dislike, and many good times were had between us, I had an innate fear of what might happen after my father’s death, and wondered what part Prendota would play in my future.
And it came to pass that in August of the year of our lord 1077 the good Pope Anselm of Lucca, an Italian, died, and none other than the Pole, Stanislaw, Archbishop of Krakow, was elected to succeed him. The new Pope, who had previously been an enemy of my good father, now sought to gain his support, and (in penance for past evils) as eager to do all that my father asked. And so it was not long after that it was proposed I marry Stefan Pawel, the eldest son of my uncle Wladyslaw Herman; the necessary dispensation was duly granted, and a formal precontract drawn up.
Stefan Pawel was the son of Wladyslaw Herman, and his first wife, Lucja Gozdawa, who had once been a ward of my father. I first met him in the winter of 1077, after which we met frequently, either at Krakow or Plock. Stefan grew into a strong and energetic man, and over the years he grew to trust me implicitly. Overly trusting of his friends, he was also overly vengeful against his enemies. I grew to take a cruel liking to the painful torture and cruel vengeance he exacted against these enemies, often the lowborn children of servants. Despite this, I still believe that he, at heart, was a kind man, but both my mother and father thought I was naïve if I truly believed him a man of any worth, other than dynastically.
By this marriage, my father hoped to pass over Wladysaw Herman in the succession, and maintain the rule of the Piast dynasty. On the other hand, Wladyslaw saw the marriage as the perfect opportunity for him to succeed my father, by marrying his heir to me, my father’s heiress.
On December 29th, in the year of our lord 1077, my grandmother Dobronega Maria, Duchess of Wallachia, died. Having never been particularly close to her, I did not mourn her death overmuch. Her death prompted my father to once more return to the battle field, attacking the prince of Galich. The successful completion of the Galich campaign led father to fight against the tribe of Pereyaslavl, and the King of Abkhazia.
Soon after my father returned from these campaigns, my mother, aged 33 summers, was once more with child, which we were secretly confident would be a girl, who I and my younger sisters decided to call Aldona Smiechna, in honour of our two deceased sisters. And so, it was a deep surprise to hear the announcement of the birth of the Prince Mieszko, called “Augustus”, Duke of Ceiszyn, and heir to the throne. Although I was told to rejoice his birth, I found it hard to rejoice at the birth of my nemesis, and I could not bear to even look at the day-old babe that had wrested my destiny from me, much like the biblical Jacob and Esau. The triumphant birth of a legitimate male heir, sidelining not only me but Prendota also, enticed father to push into Bohemia, ostensibly on the grounds that my good cousin, King Bretislaw, son of my father’s sister Swietoslawa, had imprisoned his mother, the forementioned Swietoslawa. Bretislaw was soundly defeated, and father forced him to accept Polish dominion over all of Bohemia; furthermore, the good lady Swietoslawa was installed as duchess for her lifetime, so that Bretislaw, henceforth only count of Cheb and Plzen, would only rule once more as duke after her death.
In October 1085, my mother, who had accompanied my father on campaign, bore her eighth daughter, Gudrid, in Praha. During the fighting in Bohemia, my good cousin, Bedrich, count of Usti nad Labem, a brother of Count Bretislaw, was severely wounded, and died of these wounds in early 1086. His widow was none other than Dobronega, eldest daughter of my good uncle Wladyslaw Herman, and a full sister of my betrothed husband Stefan Pawel. Pregnant with Bedrich’s child, she refused to return to her father, and came instead to our court, where at once my kind brother Prendota, now aged 14, petitioned father for her hand. This union gained widespread approval; failing Mieszko and his heirs, and my heirs, the crown would devolve upon Prendota’s heirs, who like mine, would have the brothers Boleslaw and Wladyslaw as grandsires. Furthermore, Prendota was given the royal name of Kazimierz, becoming “Kazimierz Prendota”, Duke of Pommerania, Krakow, and Alania, which in the eyes of some further strengthened his claim to succeed (it had once came to pass that a certain Bezprym, had not been allowed to succeed his father because of his common name, and the throne had devolved upon a younger brother, with a traditional Piast name, from whom I claim descent). Following the birth of Bedrich’s posthumous son on the 24th of July, 1086, who was given the apocryphal name Tobias, Dobronega (aged 19) was soon with child from her eager 14 year old husband.
I at once went to father, and implored with him for my own marriage with Stefan Pawel to be made firm and good, and he duly consented, as soon as the Christmas festivities were over. And it was so, that on the 12th of February 1087 me and Stefan were joined in matrimony, in a splendid ceremony, attended by all the princes of the Wends, of the Czechs, of the Huns, of the Croats, and of course, of the Poles. In March, my good father Wladyslaw took to bed his sixth wife, Clare of Zaringen, the heiress of the Margrave Herman of Verona and Karnten, and his daughter Danuta was bestowed on Pimen Trpimirovic, count of Varazdin (a Croat prince, who had been present at my marriage), the son of Duke Zvonimir of Slavonia, and the Hun princess Ilona, whose mother Ryksa was the aunt of my own good father Boleslaw. Wladyslaw also fulfilled early promise, and bestowed the duchy of Podlasia upon Stefan.
The next few years passed by quickly. On November 29th 1087 I bore my first child, a daughter, Helena, who was joined by a male heir, Wladyslaw, on October 9th 1088. On May 28th 1088 my mother, aged 37, bore a daughter, Danuta, who was unfortunately clubfooted; I at once proposed a marriage between my son Wladyslaw and my infant sister, Danuta, to further strengthen his claims on the throne. I also proposed a union between my daughter Helena and the prince, Mieszko, so that my heirs might one day rule, but father refused this union, and betrothed Mieszko to Gisela of Zaringen, the young sister of Clare, wife of my good uncle Wladyslaw; father hoped that through this union he might be able to counter Wladyslaw’s claims on the duchies of Verona, Veneto, and Karnten (Carinthia), and perhaps even exchange these lands for other German lands closer to the Polish border.
Meanwhile, my good cousin Dobronega bore my brother, the Duke Kazimierz Prendota, a son, called Prendota, in November 1087, but no sooner had the messenger arrived telling us of his birth that another came telling us of his untimely death. Dobronega was soon again with child, and bore two more sons, Dobieslaw (May 1089, died 1090) and Marcin (in 1090).
And so I sit here, fulfilling a pact made years ago between me and all my sisters, that we should all leave a testament, for our posterity. Alas, my good lord the Duke calls me; he fears such strenuous study might harm the life of the babe in my womb, Adieu.
This evening my lady went into labour, and the life-cord strangled the babe as she passed it out of her womb, and so I, Beata the Strong, was left to care for her as the life drained out of her, as it had done from her babe. As she lay on her deathbed, she spent her last lucid memories telling me to write this down in her chronicle, for her posterity, and all else to see: the children of Rycheza will rule Poland yet!
