In 1134, Melisende, the Queen of Jerusalem, who had, as a child, been raised to be the Queen  of Jerusalem all by herself, was sharing the throne with Fulk, her husband, who did not like sharing.  So he tried to get rid of her, by accusing her of adultery with her cousin Hugh of Jaffa, which was not a thing that was actually happening. And when Hugh fled (on account of not wanting to be in a duel with a guy bigger than The Mountain in Game of Thrones), Fulk sent somebody to assassinate him, The assassination failed, but Hugh was badly hurt, and the Council of Jerusalem, which had been very happy with Melisende as queen, and thought Fulk was some snooty newcomer from France, supported a palace coup, and Fulk really did not have much power after that. We discuss the badnesses of Fulk, and explain why, although Melisende ruled for 30 years, she hasn't been discussed much until recently. (Spoiler alert: Victorians. As usual.)

Hugh de Lacy, one of the Anglo-Normans who was sent to bring order to Ireland (where the Anglo-Normans were having  a lot of trouble), was inspecting the military installation he was having built at Durrow (where St. Columba had previously built a monastery), when he was murdered by one of the Irish who wanted him dead, by being hit on the head with an ax. So there you are. There is your crime. We discuss this, yes we do, but really we are discussing Hugh de Lacy because he built Trim Castle, and Michelle really really really wanted to talk about Trim Castle. So she does. We learn a lot about Anglo-Norman castles, really. But Anne still wonders about where the best place to hide your murder ax might be, because under your tunic just does not sound right.

In 1199, when Richard the Lionheart died, there were two possible claimants to the throne of England -- his younger brother John, and his nephew Arthur. John was a bit over 30 years old; Arthur was about 12. John, the youngest surviving son of Henry II, was by Norman law the rightful heir. Arthur, the eldest son of Geoffrey, John's older brother, was by the laws of Brittany, the rightful heir. Also, John was in England and Arthur was in Brittany. Also, John was the person who was, well, John. Ruthless, is what he was.  You can guess who it is who won, especially since you've already heard of King John and Arthur of Brittany sort of fell through the cracks of history. Except that the French really like him, and wrote a bunch of plays, and the Victorians loved him bunches because he was so pathetic. Michelle explains all that.

By the 15th century, Nuremberg was making a reputation and a lot of money out of being the main saffron import location in Europe. So the town burgesses took it very seriously when spice merchants sold saffron that wasn't fully saffron, but had various other things added to it. Very seriously indeed. So seriously that it was possible to be, as Johnanes Ryneken was, in 1444, executed for being a very bad spice merchant indeed. Anne especially enjoyed this episode, because she got to talk ALL about saffron, but Michelle was Quite Annoyed at the lack of scholarly citations. Also there was all that German. But there were some historical novels! With saffron!

The de Mariscos were a family that continually got into trouble, on account of continually misbehaving. When William de Marisco was executed at the Tower of London in 1242, it was ostensibly for attempting to have the king murdered, but since he'd also been pirating from the Isle of Lundy, and murdering messengers, he was going to end up being executed at some point anyway. Besides explaining the de Mariscos, we have two rabbit holes! Anne is fascinated by the Isle of Lundy, and Michelle is fascinated by Matthew Paris, and really, there's a lot going on in this episode.

Snorri Sturluson, the great Icelandic poet and historian and lawspeaker of the Althing, got involved in Norwegian/Icelandic politics, and it ended very badly. For him, for one thing, as the king of Norway arranged for 70 men to stab Snorri in his basement, and for Iceland, which devolved into chieftain battles and eventually unified with Norway and the Norwegian king became the boss of everything. The Althing still exists, though, and Iceland is independent now, and Snorri is one of the most influential poets of the early middle ages. We explain all this. Anne still wonders why you need 70 people to stab somebody in his basement, and Michelle is shocked, shocked, I tell you, that there isn't any historical fiction about all this, though she is slightly mollified by the fact that there is now a Snorri ap, for Android and IOS. Well, then.

If you go and peruse the internet, you will discover many discussions of the medieval shame flute, an instrument created specifically to be fastened to a bad musician, in order to shame him. There are pictures. There is a lot of certainty about this. Alas, it wasn't there. Michelle went to find them, and, though there are a couple of torture museums which have examples, those are not medieval examples. In fact, do we think that there were ever any shame flutes, even after the middle ages? We do not. Because we think, really, when bad musicians come to your town, you can just make them leave. And then not hire them any more. Michelle found some pretty nifty postcards, though, with lots of shaming devices, and you can buy them.  And send them to your friends. 

At the end of the 12th century, the kings of Ireland had been fighting amongst themselves, and the high king got involved, and what with one thing and another Diarmait Mac Murchada, who had been the king of Leinster, and then had been ousted, and then had gotten in again, got ousted again, and then had the very bad idea of getting help from the Anglo-Normans. And they did help, didn't they, and then they took Ireland over.  This could have been foreseen by anybody who had been paying attention to how the Normans operated.  Diarmait, at any rate, got to be king again, though not for long, and then he got to live in infamy as a great traitor.  For the  Irish. The English liked him better. Michelle gets even more exercised than usual, because 1) colonialism, very bad, and 2) some scholars she found, also very bad. 

One day in London in 1565, Richard Walweyn was arrested for wearing the wrong pants, and put in jail until he could prove he owned some proper ones. And why were these the wrong pants? Cause they were puffed out, and he was a servant. Makes no sense, right? Nah. But in times of unease, people like to try to get everybody to wear the right clothes, eat the right things, buy the right stuff. Whatever those things are that year. We discuss sumptuary laws over time, we discuss the hell which would be More's Utopia, if you found yourself living in it, and Michelle, bless her heart, found Italian Traveling Earrings.

In 1315, the crops throughout Europe failed. And then they failed the year after that. And then the year after that. It was raining.  And it rained and rained and rained. After that , it rained some more. One of the greatest natural disasters of the middle ages was the Great Famine, in which so many people of Europe died that the population didn't reach the level it had been before the rain started until the 19th century. Naturally, the crime rate rose. That's a fact. However, the cannibalism and infanticide stories, though they were very well known, don't have any evidence. Despite Hansel and Gretel. So we figured there was a rise in theft, and a rise in piracy, but not widespread cannibalism.  Michelle found a very good book. And a very bad one.