Some thoughts about a great prince, medieval honor, a murdered queen, and one of my rants

A belated Happy May Day to my readers and a reminder to my fellow Game of Throners that there are just four days to go till more of our favorite characters die. I was astonished by some of the criticism by reviewers that HBO had somehow copped out by killing “only” six characters. With three more episodes still to go, they could hardly have staged a massacre at Winterfell, not unless they planned to devote the rest of the season to Cersei gloating about her victory. My only quibble with the episode was that it looked as if it had been filmed at midnight at the bottom of a mineshaft; in other words, it was dark (literally, not figuratively) even by GOT’s murky standards. Now….on to my Today in History post. It is a rerun, I freely admit, but surely the statute of limitations does not stretch past four or five years? So we venture back into the past.
May 2nd was an interesting day on the historical calendar. On May 2nd, 1230, William de Braose, grandson of Maude de Braose, who’d been starved to death in one of King John’s dungeons, was publicly hanged by Llywelyn Fawr, having been caught in the bedchamber of Llywelyn’s beloved wife, Joanna. I say “beloved” because there is no other explanation for what he did---he forgave her and eventually restored her to favor, even though doing so was a great political risk. In the MA, cuckolded husbands were figures of fun, especially older men married to younger women, as was the case with Llywelyn and Joanna. His risk was compounded by the fact that Joanna’s lover was, like her, Norman-French, so Llywelyn’s Welsh subjects were even more outraged by her behavior. If the skeptics need additional proof that Llywelyn loved his wife, upon her death, he established a Franciscan friary in her honor, a gesture right up there with Edward I’s Eleanor crosses for his deceased queen.
I hope I have not spoiled the suspense for new readers to Dragons. I also want to say that few speculations have offended me as much as the later suggestion by some English historians that Joanna had not committed adultery, that she was complicit in Llywelyn’s scheme to lure William de Braose to his death. I do not even know where to start with this lunacy. First of all, it is an outrageous insult to the Welsh, to a great prince, and to his wife. Moreover, there was no reason whatsoever for Llywelyn to have set de Braose up like that; not only was he on good political terms with de Braose at the time, his son Davydd was plight-trothed to de Braose’s young daughter, Isabella, and amazingly enough, the marriage proceeded even after de Braose’s execution. Lastly, anyone who could believe this would have to be woefully ignorant of medieval life and politics. A prince of Llywelyn’s stature and importance would never have impugned his wife’s honor like that, or his own honor, making him vulnerable to mockery and ridicule while ruining her reputation.
Okay, end of rant. May 2nd was also the date in 1536 when Anne Boleyn was arrested and taken to the Tower of London, which would, as we know, soon lead to her execution. Anne certainly had her share of flaws, probably one reason why she continues to fascinate people so many centuries after her death. But I doubt that anyone--certainly no historian that I am aware of—believes that she was guilty of adultery and incest. Henry had truly become a monster by then, willing to sacrifice several innocent men in order to rid himself of a wife he no longer wanted. I have always thought that the Lord Mayor was one of the most courageous men in Tudor England, for he dared to say publicly after Anne’s sham of a trial that no proof had been offered of her guilt.
Hmmm…I am still in rant mode, so here goes another one. The most ludicrous historical speculation I’ve ever encountered was an article written some years ago in which Henri, the Count of Champagne, nephew to the Lionheart and the French king, and husband to Isabella, Queen of Jerusalem, was accused of being the one behind the murder of Isabella’s former husband, Conrad of Montferrat. This author totally ignored the fact that not a single contemporary cast the slightest suspicion on Henri, who was very highly regarded both by the Franks and the Saracens. Thanks to the Duke of Burgundy and the Bishop of Beauvais, Richard was accused of the killing, as readers of Lionheart and Ransom will remember, and a reputable Saracen chronicler lay the blame at Saladin’s door. But no historians today believe that either man had any involvement in Conrad’s death, for it would have benefited neither one, and it is safe to say that people rarely if ever act against their own self-interest. One chronicler reported that Conrad had offended the deadly sect, the Assassins, by seizing one of their ships, and they retaliated when he refused to release the crew or cargo. Historians have always accepted that as a plausible explanation, especially given what we know of Conrad’s impetuous nature. So how, then, did Henri suddenly become the object of suspicion in the mind of one writer? Because no one had ever suggested it before, and no, I am not making that up; that was the gist of his argument. Apparently, the fact that no one had ever considered Henri as a suspect was enough for him to conclude that Henri was so cold-bloodedly ambitious that he’d commit murder and treason just on the chance that he might then step into Conrad’s shoes. That Henri was reluctant to marry Isabella initially and never called himself King of Jerusalem were shrugged off as inconvenient facts, I guess. This cockamamie theory was first advanced nearly fifty years ago, and would probably have flourished in the Age of the Internet where no conspiracy theory seems too implausible to find some believers. And now I really am done ranting for the night!