This is
episode 8 in a series of posts researching the mystery of the dramatic life of
Sir Thomas Malory, author of Le Morte
d’Arthur. Episode 1 can be found here.
The city is
under occupation; the occupiers are quartered in the castle north of the city.
Their discipline and morale isn’t what it was, a common problem of occupying
armies whose job is to hold and police rather than conquer. On a spring evening in May, a group of
men-at-arms, nearly all esquires but fully equipped with white plate armor,
tend their weapons and harness. Many are
younger sons or brothers of those who fought in the great campaigns of the late
king which enriched and sometimes ennobled their fathers or brothers. This is different. This is strange.
There’s a
witch under guard in one of the towers.
Sometimes they talk about her, sometimes they don’t. It’s a very good thing that she was finally
captured and is now being examined. It’s
known she has satanic powers but also that she is a virgin who prays to saints
and orders even her gaolers to stop swearing.
There’s a laugh: tell an Englishman
to leave off swearing. Even their
enemies nickname them “goddams” for their rugged speech.
Tonight
they’re not talking about the witch.
It’s Sunday evening and they’re telling bawdy stories when the great
Earl of Warwick, Richard Beauchamp, enters the room. The rain on his ermine tipped cloak glitters
like stars in the candle light. Two
other senior commanders are with him, the younger, imperious Sir Humphrey
Stafford and Count Jean de Luxemburg-Ligny, as well as two sallow faced
Burgundian bishops. Warwick says he
needs two men and looks around. The
second one he gives the nod is one of the senior ones. He fought in the late king’s campaigns and
sometimes tells good stories about them.
His name is Thomas and he’s also
from Warwickshire and devoted to the Earl who trusts him in return. The Earl instructs them not to bother putting
on armor but to bring weapons and a cloak.
The party
crosses the courtyard to the prison tower where the witch is held. The rain is soaking. A guard opens a narrow door to let them in
and they climb the close winding stairs to the second level where a gaoler
admits them to the witch’s cell. She
stands very straight against the far wall.
She wears a plain dress of gray homespun and holds a rotting blanket
about her shoulders. The cell, like most
cells, smells a little of shit and urine and rushes that need to be changed. The witch is very white, her hair is ragged
and she is shivering though it’s not so cold.
Thomas is shivering, too. He
wonders why the Earl wanted two additional men-at-arms to attend him. Is it something about the witch?
“They say
you’re sick,” the Earl of Warwick declares in French.
“Is it a
surprise?” the witch answers.
Count Jean
explodes at her, telling her it is no one’s fault but her own that she finds
herself come to such a dolorous condition.
She should beware: she is wasting
the time of many great lords which will lead to her great sorrow. The deep lines at the corners of his mouth
betray his anger and stress.
The witch,
just a girl, is not intimidated. “I am
abused by these English. They are not
knightly. A knight should protect a
maid, not threaten her, spit in her food, threaten her with violation.” She turns to glare at Sir Humphrey.
“You surly bitch,
I’ll kill you myself.” Sir Humphrey
lunges at her, drawing his dagger. The
others move to stop him, but it is Thomas who catches Humphrey’s arm before he
can strike. Humphrey shrugs him off but
Thomas only releases Humphrey’s arm when Warwick nods.
“How dare
you lay hands on me?” Sir Humphrey says.
Warwick
addresses the witch. “You are to come to
trial, Joan of Domremy, and you are not to be harmed before.” Warwick makes a point of looking at both Sir
Humphrey and Count Jean. When he glances
at Thomas, Thomas realizes this why he was brought, not for fear of the witch
but for her safety.
“Your guards
will be changed,” Warwick tells her. “Your
sickness will be tended.”
Thomas
follows the others out. He is conflicted
and sick at heart. She probably is a
witch but she spoke the truth. Perhaps
there was more chivalry in that unarmed maid than any other in that dolorous
cell.
…
Of course,
it may not have happened that way at all.
We do know that Joan of Arc received such a visit on May 13, 1331 and
that she was verbally abused by Count Jean and that Sir Humphrey Stafford began
to draw his dagger to stab her. Thomas
Malory may or may not have been one of the men-at-arms in the party. However, Sir Humphrey Stafford, later Earl
then Duke of Buckingham was to prove Malory’s nemesis in years to come and it
may have developed as a consequence of Malory’s loyalty to the Beauchamp family
and particularly Richard Beauchamp whom he served under.
The first
criminal accusation against Sir Thomas Malory was 12 years later in October, 1443. He and his brother-in-law Eustace Burneby
were accused of swearing at, wounding and imprisoning one Thomas Smith of
Spratton, a small town 24 miles east south-east of Newbold Revel. They were also accused of taking £40. (Why is it always £40 in such accusations?) The sheriff sent two men to fetch them but
they were not tried. As Christina
Hardyment, who recounts the story, suggests, perhaps some settlement was made
out of court. No more is known.
However, as
it’s the first recorded accusation against Malory, the context merits careful
examination. Richard Beauchamp, the
Earl of Warwick, exercised unusual hegemony over Warwickshire. Usually, the county lived under a balance of
power between the Dukes of Lancaster and the Earl of Warwick. But Henry VI who was Duke of Lancaster as
well as King at that time was a less than forceful presence in the county which
allowed Warwick to dominate. Warwick
died in 1339 and was succeeded by his son Henry who at 14 was still in his
minority which created a power vacuum into which stepped Sir Humphrey Stafford,
the Earl of Buckingham. According to
Christine Carpenter, Locality and
Polity: A Study of Warwickshire Landed
Society 1401-1499, Stafford already exercised considerable control in the
south of Warwickshire and aspired to control in the north. If Malory was a faithful retainer of the
Beauchamps it is easy to imagine that the changing political environment would
have brought him into conflict with those seeking to rise with Stafford’s
ambitions. Further, a common strategy
for establishing control was placement of one’s supporters in judicial
positions, as the Paston letters prove.
This Stafford did. Malory’s
conflict with Thomas Smith may have been an example of Stafford testing his
strength against a loyal Beauchamp supporter and the decision not to prosecute
reflected that his strength was not yet ripe.
That time would come later.
Perhaps Sir
Malory was bewitched in that cell in 1430 as my small fiction suggests.
(To my
knowledge Hardyment is the first to note the possibility of Malory’s presence
in that cell in the castle of Rouen on May 13, 1331.)
Episode 9 is here.
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