Ortolans at Midnight

Jane Seymour awoke from a deep sleep at about midnight with a mighty craving for ortolans: pretty little songbirds, drowned in brandy, simmered and eaten whole (guts and all) heads held in a napkin. She had just given birth to young Edward and so granted Henry the long-awaited son he had divorced and beheaded for.

The physical anguish she had experienced was eclipsed by hours of unremembered slumber; but it was finished now: Henry and all of England made merry. He had gone hunting to celebrate, promising she should have anything her heart desired while he was away, ever so shortly. And her heart desired ORTOLANS. She was so ravenous the pit in her throat turned in her stomach; she felt she could eat twenty or thirty of them at least, so she rang for her ladies-in-waiting and sent immediate word to fire up the kitchens.

Commotion in the kitchens over the logistics of the thing. Ortolans at midnight! How could this be achieved? The only ones that can be found are old and unused; none of the kitchen-boys can tell when we got them. Much commotion, but King Henry had ordered the staff of the palace to take any of Queen Jane’s requests as if it were a command from him. So be it: ortolans at midnight!

Again Jane Seymour rang, impatient with the long delay, when at last the steaming mass of songbirds was presented in a silver charger. She slurpily and noisily dispatched them all, consuming everything but the heads.

By morning, Lady Jane Seymour, third wife to King Henry the VIII, was found lifeless in bed.