First Murder Mystery Buried Inside Le Morte D'Arthur

by Minnie Apolis

Discussions of the first English-language mystery novel usually center around authors in the era of the 1850s to 1880s, with names like Wilkie Collins, Charles Dickens, Edgar Allen Poe, Robert Louis Stevenson, and several other mostly obscure names.

But it turns out that the oldest English-language novel (often called a proto-novel instead) also has an episode that is clearly a murder mystery. Sir Thomas Malory wrote the perennial best-seller about the days of King Arthur in Le Morte D'Arthur, published in 1485 by the printer William Caxton. More of the public knows it as a rather loose collection of tales of romance, battle, tragedy, pageantry, knighthood, and pure fable. Whether there is any actual history in any of its conglomeration of tales is still being debated.

Nevertheless this brings us to the main topic, the murder mystery. Buried way back in Book XVIII (18), Chapters Three through Eight, is this briefly told account of a death of a dinner guest.

Queen Guinevere holds a celebratory dinner for the knights of the Round Table who had come home after the Grail quest had been fulfilled. The guest list included Sir Gawain, Sir Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, Sir Gareth, Sir Mordred, Sir Bors, Sir Galihodin, Sir Ector, Sir Lionel, Sir Palomides, his brother Safere, Sir La Cote Mal Taile, Sir Persant, Sir Ironside, Sir Brandiles, Sir Kay, Sir Mador, Sir Patrise, Aliduk of Ireland, Sir Astamore, and Sir Pinel le Savage. (Notable by his absence was the Queen's beloved Sir Lancelot, who was once again out of favor.) This feast is not held at the Round Table, but “in a privy place by themselves.”

The Queen spared no expense laying out a good table, with venison and assorted meats, and “all manner of dainties.”

The unfortunate Sir Patrise, a cousin of Sir Mador, ate a poisoned apple and fell down dead. When Sir Parise ate this apple, “he swelled so till be brast (burst), and there Sir Patrise fell down suddenly dead among them.” That of course threw a pall over the whole banquet.

The knights jumped up angrily. And who was accused of the murder but the Queen herself. Considering that the Queen had arranged for this dinner, invited all the guests, and provided all the edibles, it looked very black for her.

The apparent target of the poisoned apple was Sir Gawain, who was known to be fond of fruit at dinner.

The Queen could muster no excuse when accused by the knights, nor when questioned by her husband, King Arthur. Sir Mador made the formal accusation of treason and swore to be avenged of the death of his cousin, Patrise. (All capital offenses at this time were called treason. No distinctions were made by type or motive, this being before the age of lawyers.)

And the legal system being as primitive as it was, instead of a trial, Queen Guinevere's fate was determined by a joust. Some knight would have to take her part and fight in one-on-one combat if she was to escape being burned at the stake.

None of the knights who attended the banquet would take her part. A joust was set for fifteen days hence. Sir Bors was assigned the job of defending the Queen's honor by default, but King Arthur hoped that Sir Lancelot would yet appear. Bors preferred not to endure the wrath of the other knights.

Bors reached Sir Lancelot, who was resting in the company of a hermit named Brasias. Lancelot promises to come but not till the hour of the joust.

The day arrives, Lancelot defeats Sir Mador and successfully defends the Queen's honor, thereby preventing her death at the stake. The Queen stands legally excused. Lancelot's identity is revealed, “and there was made great joy and mirths in the court.”

Finally, the truth comes out about who the real murderer was, and his motive. It just so happened that one of the ladies of the lake sauntered into the court, the one called Nimue. Nimue was wife to Sir Pelleas, and had been the object of a romantic obsession on the part of Merlin. Nimue could only get rid of him by making him prisoner inside a tree or rock (accounts differ), where Merlin remained forever. Do we have to define her further as a sorceress, witch, or practitioner of the dark arts?

At any rate, Nimue saunters in to the court and when she hears of this false accusation of the Queen, declares right off that the Queen was never guilty of this crime. She then goes on to name the murderer: Sir Pinel. Motive: to avenge the death of his cousin, Sir Lamorak. One imagines her questioning the perp a la Perry Mason in a courtroom scene: Isn't it true that you harbored a grudge over the death of your cousin Lamorak? Isn't it true that you swore vengeance? Isn't it true that you purchased a poison from the local apothecary shop in Londinium the night before the banquet?

What means Nimue used to ascertain this information is not disclosed, but as a practitioner of various arts of sorcery she might have scryed a dark mirror, tossed rune stones, had a vision, or via some other unnamed craft.

While this murder mystery had its literary significance, it is rather unsatisfying as a mystery story. We are told that Sir Pinel's cousin was killed by Sir Gawain when the guest list is given. And furthermore, Malory writes “therefore for pure envy and hate Sir Pinel enpoisoned certain apples for to enpoison Sir Gawaine” even before the accusation and trial of Queen Guinevere. Obviously as an author Malory should have retained that information until Nimue unveiled the identity of the murderer. What seems so obvious to modern audiences was lost on Sir Thomas Malory back then. It isn't like we'd seriously believe that Guinevere was capable of murder.

Of the other candidates for authors of early mysteries, my personal favorite is Wilkie Collins, author of The Moonstone (1868) and The Woman in White (1859). I obtained both several years ago from Dover reprints, and feel that they could well be updated for modern audiences without too many changes.

Dickens of course wrote the unfinished Mystery of Edwin Drood; his earlier Bleak House (1853) also features the murder of a blackmailer, with a police inspector who tries to track down the killer. Unfortunately the murder is buried about three-quarters of the way into the novel, and we fully understand the identity and motive of the killer.

Edgar Allen Poe wrote several mysteries including the first detective story, but usually as short stories, before his death in 1849. Thomas Hardy's Tess of the d'Urbervilles has Tess murder the man who has ruined her life twice, but that is at the end of the lengthy novel about her travails.

But I feel that even with the deficiencies of Malory's style, that he is still the author of the first murder mystery story.