When the King of France was preparing to attack my territories for my role in having his son killed, i teamed up with the English and the King backed down and even gave me some more land which didn't go down well with the English who threatened to invade me themselves so i signed a treaty with the French to protect me but the English invaded anyway and took me captive.
As wars were coming thick and fast, my brother, Philip of Navarre, threw in his lot with the invading English army of the Duke of Lancaster for the next one and made war on the French and i was released and opened negotiations with both the French and English Kings, telling the English we should divide France between ourselves and telling the French King he could rule over parts of Navarre but the suspicious Kings no longer trusted me and the Kings of England and France agreed to jointly make war on Navarre's and i was overthrown.
I was making plans on regaining my territories when i came down with a bad cold and consulted a physician, who ordered me to be wrapped up from head to foot, in a linen cloth impregnated with brandy, so that 'i might be enclosed in it to the very neck as in a sack'.
It was over-night when this remedy was best administered and after the maid finished sewing me in, she placed the pan of hot coals under my bed to keep me warm.
Unfortunately, we need to remember that the karma is a raging arse and the maid given the job of sewing me into my sack that night wasn't the brightest and when she noticed an errant thread, she decided to burn it off with a hot coal and i went up like a fancy Molotov Cocktail.
On hearing of my demise, and the way that i died, the French and English took it as evidence of divine will and proof that God was on their side but as the war between them raged on for another 66 years, i think it was just evidence of crap medical advice and proof that material soaked in alcohol is incredibly flammable.
No comments:
Post a Comment