Saint Valentine’s Day
Part 1

It was another dreary, lonely day for Charles. As he labored through the hours in his lofty stone enclosure, he could hear the noise and bustle of life in the streets far below. The churn of the daily would go on without his help or intrigue. All who attended to their quotidian lives gave, at most, a passing thought to the looming stonework edifice that was his new home. Charles could hear it all…and he could smell it. The fragrant waft of the bakery collided with the pungent odor of thunder jugs being carelessly discharged out countless windows. Occasionally those found a mark on an unsuspecting pedestrian and he guessed that the curse words and bawdy laughter betrayed the shower of raw sewage.

High above the city of London sat Charles, the Duke of Orleans, in the infamous tower. He was only 21 years of age. He was of French aristocracy and had the misfortune of being caught up in a familial conflict between his father, Louis I and his crazy uncle, Charles the Mad. His father controlled the House of Orleans and his Uncle, the House of Burgundy. The rivalry turned to civil war when Louis I was assassinated, presumably by his first cousin John the Fearless, the Duke of Burgundy.

During this time the young Charles wed. It was an arranged marriage to the 11-year-old Bonne of Armagnac. Her father, Bernard VII, was the Count of Armagnac and the soon-to-be Constable of France. Under his leadership they went to war against the House of Burgundy. Within four years Charles would be captured and sent to the Tower of London for imprisonment. He would remain in captivity for 25 years.

But Charles did not yet know that. He walked about the prison yearning for his 15 year old Bonne. He missed her. And because he was a noble, he was allowed a quill and a scrap of parchment. From that dismal circumstance he set to work to write what historians believe to be the very first Valentine’s card. The year was 1415. The poem read thus:
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My very gentle Valentine,
Since for me you were born too soon,
And I for you was born too late.
God forgives him who has estranged
Me from you for the whole year.
I am already sick of love,
My very gentle Valentine.

They would never reunite. Bonne died sometime around 1430. It is a heartbreaking tale and not one to set the mood for St. Valentine’s Day. But we’re not quite finished. The true story of how this day came about is worth the telling and has for us a lesson much larger than chocolates and bouquets.  See you here tomorrow…