An elusive queen

Here is a catch-up post for December; I initially posted it three years ago, but am counting on the fact that most of your memories are as unreliable as mine.
Richard I’s queen, Berengaria, died on December 23rd, 1230, at about age 60. She was buried at L’Epau, the abbey she founded during her long widowhood. As I’ve said at other times, I do not think history has been fair to Berengaria, faulting her for not being another Eleanor of Aquitaine and not giving her enough credit for the quiet courage she displayed on crusade and during her long struggle with her brother-in-law, John, who treated her rather shabbily after Richard’s death. A good example of how dismissive historians can be is a comment by Elizabeth Hallam, who has written her current entry in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. Ms. Hallam reports that chroniclers described her as beautiful and prudent, but then adds that Richard of Devizes’s snide comment that she was more prudent than pretty is more convincing. Yet Richard of Devizes never laid eyes upon Berengaria, whereas Ambroise, who was far more complimentary, did. So why does she give greater credence to Richard of Devizes? Because he was snarkier? I’ve said this before, too, that I see her as a young woman who was dealt a bad hand and played it as best she could. But she remains an elusive figure, an elegant ghost who did not share her secrets and left few footprints in the sands of history. At least she has a street named after her in Le Mans.