I spend many of my days researching, and I often come across strange and fascinating tales that don’t quite fit in my books. Thus, Friday story time is born. Because really, does a great story need a reason? This week’s tidbit is one I considered for True Stories from the Edge: Rescues!, back in the day. It eventually lost out to a different Italian tale. Personally, though, I like the romance of this one better.

951 A.D.
Adelaide lay awake in her bed, listening to the rhythmic chip, chip against the stone. He was getting close. Would it be tonight that he finally broke through? She prayed that none of the guards outside the walls could hear the sounds of digging.

For months, Adelaide and her maid had lived as prisoners in a remote castle on the shores of Lake Garda in northern Italy. She wasn’t used to this sort of lonely life. As the daughter of Rudolph II, King of Burgundy, she had spent her days in plush audience chambers or grand dining halls. When she was two years old, she had been betrothed to a prince named Lothar. She married him at 16, and together they ruled Italy.

That life was over now. A jealous duke, Margrave Berengar of Ivrea, had poisoned her husband and seized the throne. Now Berengar was spending her treasury money, even selling her jewels.

Of course, Berengar had made it clear that there was one way for Adelaide to escape. She merely had to agree to marry his son, Adalbert. That would put all of Adelaide’s lands into Berengar’s control and cement his claim to the Italian throne.

With no intention of ever marrying Adelbert, Adelaide was putting her hope in another option. Her priest, one of the few people allowed to visit her in exile, had been building an underground tunnel for the last four months. Every night, she could feel him getting closer. Until finally, with Adelaide and her maid both scrabbling at the inside wall and the priest digging from the outside, the tunnel broke through. There was just enough room for the two women to squeeze out, race down the tight passageway, and escape into a waiting rowboat.

Adelaide found refuge with nobleman Adalbert Azzo of Canossa… until Berengar heard the news.

Furious, Berenger brought his troops bearing down on Canossa’s land, surrounding the castle and demanding Adelaide’s release. He was absolutely determined to hold onto the throne of Italy, and for his claim to be legitimate, he needed Adelaide under his control.

Inside, Adelaide was just as determined as ever to escape Berengar’s grasp. She would never ally herself with the man who had killed her husband. But she was also in a desperate situation, putting Canossa and his people at risk.

Marriage seemed the only way out.

But not marriage to the killer’s son. Instead, Adelaide sent a man to steal away from the castle and slip through Berengar’s troops. The man bore a message to Otto the Great, King of Germany. Adelaide knew that Otto wanted to control all of Germany, Burgundy, and Italy. And she offered him the only valuable thing she had — her hand in marriage. If Otto would bring his army to Italy, conquer the forces of Berengar, and rescue her from imprisonment, she would marry him. And with a single signature on the marriage papers, he would control all the lands of northern Italy.

Otto the Great said “I do” by bearing down on Italy with his powerful army – the largest in Europe at the time. In September 951, he scattered Berengar’s forces and sent the usurper scurrying into the Alps. For the second time in a single year, Adelaide was rescued from a castle and whisked away to safety.

Within a few weeks, Otto and Adelaide were officially married. She continued to rule her traditional lands on their behalf, and together the couple added to their holdings. By 962, eleven years after their marriage, they had five children and controlled all of Germany, Burgundy, and Italy. They traveled to Rome, where the pope crowned them emperor and empress of the reborn Holy Roman Empire.

I spend many of my days researching, and I often come across strange and fascinating tales that don’t quite fit in my books. Thus, Friday story time is born. Because really, does a great story need a reason? Here’s this week’s tidbit:

All day, the prisoners of Auschwitz stacked wood, lumber intended to expand the Nazi death camp in Poland. But the prisoners built the woodpile extra-carefully. In the center, they left just enough space for two men to lie side-by-side.

That afternoon, Alfred Wetzler and Rudolf Vrba slid into the opening and their fellow prisoners covered the entrance. The men hid for four days, while soldiers searched the surrounding woods.

Finally, the men slid out and escaped beneath the camp’s outer wires. They walked 80 miles to safety, using a map torn from a child’s atlas. Wetzler and Vrba later created a detailed report and a map of Auschwitz, allowing the Allies an inside view of the camp.

I spend many of my days researching, and I often come across strange and fascinating tales that don’t quite fit in my books. Thus, Friday story time is born. Because really, does a great story need a reason? Here’s this week’s tidbit:

Alvar Nunez Cabeza de Vaca was treasurer of a Spanish expedition in 1527. Heavily infected with gold-fever, the crew landed in Florida and declared the area a part of Spain. Then half the group — including Cabeza de Vaca — decided they couldn’t possibly wait to settle and plan. They took off into the rainforest in search of treasure.

The men faced hurricanes, bugs, and disease. Their efforts at diplomacy included capturing the local native leader, so neighbourly relations were somewhat fatal. Finally, after weeks spent lost in the swamp, a couple hundred men arrived back at the coast. Slaughtering and eating their remaining horses to regain their strength, they then patched together a few rafts and attempted to sail to Cuba.

By the time another storm swept them onto the beaches of what is now Texas, there were only 80 left alive. All were enslaved by local natives.

But the story grows stranger…

Cabeza de Vaca eventually escaped captivity, became a trader and faith healer, and travelled with native groups across the southern portion of the continent. After a chance meeting with other Spanish explorers, he returned to Spain in 1537. He served as a (likely corrupt) governor in Mexico and a judge in Seville, Spain.

He was one of only four men to survive the expedition.

I spend many of my days researching, and I often come across strange and fascinating tales that don’t quite fit in my books. Thus, Friday story time is born. Because really, does a great story need a reason? Here’s this week’s tidbit:

During World War II, Italian soldier Felice Benuzzi was stuck in a British prisoner-of-war camp in East Africa. After months of confinement, he grew bored. So he convinced two other prisoners to sneak past the guards and climb Mount Kenya with him.

Using home-made clothing, tents, and crampons, the three men evaded leopards and rhinos at the base of the mountain, then climbed all 16,300 feet to the summit and hoisted a homemade flag.

Having conquered a mountain that had beaten hundreds of experienced mountaineers, Benuzzi and his friends returned to their prison camp and turned themselves in.