Two medieval tragedies

One of the most tragic events of the MA occurred on March 16, 1190, when the Jews of York, trapped in the castle by a rampaging mob, chose to commit mass suicide rather than be torn to pieces when the castle fell. A small number chose to gamble on the good faith of the besiegers, promising to convert if their lives were spared. It was agreed, but when they ventured out, they were brutally murdered. For those who want more information about this horrific slaughter, read Lionheart, Chapter Seven. There is also a novel called The King’s Persons by Joanne Greenburg. The massacre in York has been called a medieval Masada, and we will soon get to watch a miniseries about the actual Masada when The Dovekeepers, based upon the powerful novel by Alice Hoffman, debuts on March 30th, at least in the US; I am not sure when it premieres elsewhere.
March 16th was also the day that Richard III’s queen, Anne Neville, died in 1485. She was twenty-eight and in a little more than five months, Richard would follow her to the grave. Of course she was buried with royal honors at Westminster Abbey and Richard would be tossed into a hastily dug hole with scant ceremony, his hands still bound. This injustice will finally be rectified, of course, on March 26th, when his remains will be re-interred at Leicester Cathedral. Meanwhile, here is a brief scene from Sunne, page 1133-1134.
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“I do not mind so much any more, Richard, truly. The anger…it’s all gone now, even the fear. I am so tired, love, so tired…Sometimes I even think I’d welcome it, being at peace…and with Ned. I mind only leaving you, but I think I understand even that, think Ned does need me more….”
Richard’s head was bowed; she could no longer see his face, but she felt his tears on her hand. She tugged weakly at his sleeve, willing him to look up.
“Richard, listen, my love…please. I feel very close to God, in a way I never felt before, as if He’s with me now…just like Ned. And I know—I truly do know—that the Almighty is not a jealous God at all but one of forgiveness. Does not Scriptures say the Lord is full of compassion and mercy, and saveth in time of affliction? My darling, if only I could help you to see that…Richard, promise me you’ll try to believe that, to believe in God’s love, God’s forgiveness….”
Richard nodded and Anne had to be content with that, sank back exhausted against the pillow. She wanted only to sleep, to drift down into oblivion. Ned came so often to her in dreams, waited for her. She struggled to stave off sleep a few moments more, for Richard’s sake, and then felt him lifting her up, brushing her hair back from her neck, and she opened her eyes, saw that he’d taken from his own throat the silver pilgrim cross he’d worn since boyhood. He fumbled with the catch and it took several tries before he could fasten it securely about her neck. It was tarnished, dulled with age, but warm against her skin, as if it still held heat drawn from his body.
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