The Confession of Piers Gaveston (22 page)

In the gold-tinged gray light of dawn, Edward stood beside the bed buckling on his sword.

“I shall not say goodbye as I shall be back before you have even begun to miss me!”

I did not speak because, in truth, there was nothing to say; to disagree would only lead to more futile arguments.

Edward stroked my hair and lovingly arranged the fur coverlet to keep the morning chill at bay.

“You are my treasure and I swear no man or woman shall ever harm or take you from me!” Then he kissed me and, grinning broadly and squaring his shoulders, took up his satchel, and stepped confidently out into the dawn.

“I shall love you till my dying day!” he declared before he shut the door.

I still remember how bright and sure his smile was. He truly believed he would save me when in truth he had no more power than a kitten tied in a sack and thrown into the river to drown. We were both doomed, but only I could see that; Edward was blissfully blind. Only when the truth comes crashing down upon his head will he at last confront it.

SURRENDER
 

May 18, 1312

For ten days we have been under siege. Ten days since Edward left me though it seems more like ten years. There are days when I take to my bed and my mind takes flight. I writhe and cry out in delirium, and a blood-filled hourglass and a menacing, glinting broadsword stalk my dreams. Time blurs and becomes meaningless and jumbled. Were it not for Dragon, who faithfully attends me, I would have no notion of how many days have actually passed. And he assures me that it has been ten days since Edward left for York.

He shall never return to me. Lancaster has maneuvered his army so that it stands, a formidable barrier, betwixt Scarborough Castle and York, while Pembroke’s army lays direct siege to this castle, patiently awaiting the inevitable—my surrender.

We were ill-equipped to start with and time has not improved our position. Our provisions and morale are low. Guillaume constantly reminds me that Arnaud and Raimond ran away, while he has remained and hopes to be rewarded for it when I triumphantly resume my place at Edward’s side. And every night a few more of my supporters slink away, like rats deserting a sinking ship. But I bear them no malice. I have known all along that I am not worth fighting for.

Every siege must come to an end, and I have decided that tomorrow this one shall end. I have sent word to the Earl of Pembroke that I am ready to discuss terms. Now I must return to my bed. My flesh is on fire with fever and my head is a throbbing agony. Dragon waits now to help me back to bed. Often if I rise too quickly the walls begin to dip and sway and the floor rises up to meet me. So now I will lay down my pen until after I have seen Pembroke.

May 19, 1312

It is over. Pembroke has just left me. I was unable to meet him on my feet as I intended. Instead, I lay upon a velvet chaise, listless and aching, in my red wool tunic and black hose. Still, it was better than receiving him unkempt, unclad, and unshaven in my sickbed, I consoled myself.

“My Lord, I thank you for coming. I apologize for the manner in which I receive you. It is not indolence, I assure you, only illness.”

Pembroke eyed me warily. “Gaveston, these evasive tactics will avail you naught. You would do better to surrender now. You cannot last much longer; I know your provisions are nearly gone, your men are deserting you, and all the King’s attempts to raise an army have failed. He has even besought Robert the Bruce to shelter you in Scotland and promised the King of France and the Pope that he will relinquish all English claims to Gascony and give it to them if they will come to your aid, but they both refused. No one will fight for you Gaveston; you are alone against the world!”

“Verily, I know it well!” I sighed. “That is why I asked you to come, My Lord, to discuss terms; I would be done with this! I have neither the strength nor the inclination to see this further drawn out. Will you treat fairly with me and guarantee my personal safety until the time comes for me to plead my case before Parliament?”

Pembroke took a step closer and gingerly laid a hand upon my brow. “You really are ill!”

“I would not feign illness, My Lord. Like you, I have no patience for evasions and delays. I ask only that you safeguard my person until the time comes for me to stand trial and that what supporters I have left be allowed to re-provision this castle and remain here until summer’s end if they so desire it.”

“Agreed,” Pembroke nodded solemnly. “I swear no harm shall come to you while you are in my care.”

“Thank you, My Lord. I know you are a man of honor, and I am content.”

Pembroke stood over me, staring down at me for what seemed like a long time, and then he shook his head and sighed. “You look so young and vulnerable lying there; it is hard to believe you could be the cause of so much trouble!”

“I know you will not believe me,” I said softly, bitterly, “but I never meant to be. Do you know why I came back this last time?”

“Because you cannot keep away; the lure of the King’s bounty proved too strong for you to resist! What? You laugh?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes, My Lord,” I nodded, “I laugh because I meant to have gone away again before Edward even knew I had returned! It is over between Edward and I, even if he cannot see it, and it has been for some time! I came back only because I promised my wife I would be with her when our child was born. She is so young and sweet and good and deserves a husband far better than I, but she thinks she loves me! It was only by mischance that Edward and I met again. I told him that I meant to go away again, that I had not come back to him, but he didn’t believe me, he ignored me, and the next morning there was that proclamation on my breakfast tray, and I was trapped! Had I set foot outside the King’s protection I would have been set upon and killed! I sought the Earl of Richmond’s aid, but he would not help me! All I wanted was to leave! I want no more of Edward or his bounty! He can take it all and stuff a Christmas goose with it!”

Pembroke stared at me long and hard then nodded slowly. “I believe you. I never thought the day would come when I would say this, but I believe you. I can make you no promises, Gaveston, but I will recommend that you be allowed to depart the realm, but …”

“I know, My Lord, I have come and gone so many times that my words no longer ring true, but I thank you just the same. It means much to me to know that you believe me.” Using my elbows, I levered myself up into a sitting position. “Shall I come with you now?”

Pembroke shook his head and gestured for me to lie back. “Rest now, and try to recover your strength, you will have great need of it in the days to come. But you need have no fears regarding your safety. I give you my word that I shall protect you; I swear upon my honor, my life, and all that I possess.”

“Thank you, My Lord, truly it is more than I deserve!”

“I am a fair man, Gaveston, but not a cruel one,” he said and then apprised me of his intentions. He would convey me to Wallingford and there place me under heavy guard until the time arrived for Parliament to adjudge my fate. My men must either remain in this castle or go their own way as none of them would be allowed to accompany me. “But you may bring your dog,” he offered, nodding to Blanche napping at my feet. “We shall leave tomorrow if you are able. Have you sufficient provisions to afford you a proper dinner? Very well,” he nodded when I answered in the affirmative, “I shall bid you good evening then.”

He lingered for a moment, gazing down at me, his brow furrowed thoughtfully, quizzically, then he sighed, shook his head once more, and left me.

Truly the terms are more generous than I ever hoped or expected! Perhaps there is a small glimmer of hope left for me after all! Pembroke’s wisdom and integrity are greatly respected, and if he believes me … but I dare not let my hopes ascend too high, for if nothing should come of them then the harder and greater the fall. Until then I must go on as best I can. I am thankful it is ended. I am tired of running, it is time for me to go out and meet my destiny. I must face life, even if it means death!

IN THE DUNGEON OF WARWICK CASTLE
 

I keep hearing Blanche’s whimper and the sickening snap of her delicate bones when The Black Dog broke her neck, grasping it viciously and twisting it, savagely, a smile upon his lips and his eyes upon me all the while.

I know, I have strayed too far afield. Forgive me; it is not my intention to confuse. But there is so little time left, and my mind and body are in torment! If I ramble, or my thoughts appear disordered, there are reasons, and, as so many have before, I hope you will indulge me.

Warwick has just had the supreme pleasure of informing me that today, the 19
^th
of June, 1312, will be my last. I die tonight on Blacklow Hill. My head shall be stricken from my body. The Welshman delegated to perform the task has powerful arms, the broadsword is newly sharpened, and I have a little neck, so no one afterwards will be able to say that I suffered unduly. This is about Justice, after all, not revenge!

No beam of sunlight reaches me here in the dank, dark bowels of Warwick Castle. I am sorry for that; I would have liked to see the sun one last time. But now I must tell how I came to be here in “The Black Dog’s” dungeon, for when last I wrote I was bound for Wallingford in the protective and courteous custody of the Earl of Pembroke.

I left Scarborough Castle in a litter. Pembroke had seen for himself that though I felt better at times I was never truly well. As we descended the stairs from my bedchamber I became lightheaded. Pembroke himself reached out to steady me and sat down beside me on the stairs and waited patiently for my faintness to pass.

I must say this now, Edward, lest Warwick’s eagerness for my death brings this chronicle to an abrupt end. Do not hold the Earl of Pembroke accountable for what has befallen me, and though he pledged all upon my safety, do not punish him. He was kind to me, Edward, and treated me far better than I had any right to expect from a man who is my sworn enemy. Make a friend of him, Edward; trust in his advice, he will not fail you. And please tell him, for me, that I am grateful beyond words for the countless little kindnesses he showed me while I was in his care. I hope you will honor my request; after all, it is my last.

We traveled slowly, over the course of many days. Some days I was too ill to travel at all, even in the litter, and we lingered at various abbeys and castles along the way. Some days I was well enough to sit a horse, though Pembroke always kept me close and a sharp eye upon me lest I become faint and fall. But mostly I lay hidden behind the velvet curtains of the litter with Blanche beside me.

She was such a comfort to me, Edward! If only I could go back to the day I departed Scarborough and entrust her to Dragon’s care! My selfishness has wrought the death of one whose love and loyalty I never for an instant doubted! Of all the gifts you ever gave me, Edward, none ever meant more to me than Blanche. And she is the only one that cannot be replaced. Twice I have had my earldom taken and restored to me, but it is not in your power, O Gracious Majesty, to give me back my dog!

At the little village of Deddington we stopped for the night. Pembroke reined his horse in alongside mine and, laying a hand upon my shoulder, said: “You are weary and need rest. There is a little village near here, Deddington, it is called, it is a pleasant place, and you will be comfortable.”

He saw me settled at the rectory. We dined together. Then, as it was but a short jaunt to Bampton where his wife was staying, he decided to go and pass the night with her. And he bid me good night, never knowing that it was actually goodbye.

I know how your mind works, Edward, so I’ll say it plain, lest you spend the rest of your life wondering. He was never my lover. But never think for a moment that I did not want him to be! We had conversations, Edward, real conversations! Not endless musings and delighted exclamations about my beauty, or suspicious scoldings and ranting rages about my infidelities and affection for my nursemaid, wife, and dog! No, Edward, music, art, poetry, philosophy, medicine, nature, religion, statecraft, finance, war, and history were the things that occupied our minds and tongues, not lust and lascivious kisses! He was surprised to find me so well read. And I made him laugh! He did not want to, but first a small smile betrayed him and then a chuckle escaped him! I did it; I made him laugh and smile at me!

He often sat with me when I was ill. He talked to me and placed cold compresses upon my brow even though the Earl of Warenne urged him to “let the fever take him; it will save us all a great deal of bother!” And on nights when I was well but sleep still eluded me, he came to me and we talked and played chess or cards.

I was never put into a dungeon. I was always given a proper bedchamber, comfortable but secure, with a pair of guards outside the door and below the window, and Pembroke’s own valet was ordered to attend me. At the abbeys and castles where we lodged Pembroke often sat or walked with me in the gardens; it would calm me, he thought, and could not fail to do me good. And he would let no one, not soldiers, servants, or the commonfolk, mistreat or disrespect me. And though I was his prisoner, he would not suffer me to be chained, no matter how much others insisted upon it.

I will not lie to you, Edward, not now when I feel Death looking over my shoulder. I wanted him, as sick, wretched, and weary of life as I am, I wanted him; I wanted him to love me!

I’ve had so many lovers, Edward. The wine merchant who adored me beyond measure until the first tiny curls began to sprout from my crotch. The furrier who liked to take me upon a blanket of his finest sable, then afterwards, so ashamed of his lust was he, that he would fling a handful of coins at me and order me out even though we both knew that scarcely a week would pass before he would have me back again. The lawyer who had me serve as clerk in his four-poster bed, taking dictation while using his back as a desk. The randy Scottish widow who liked to bathe me, kneeling on the hearth with a lost look in her eyes as she reminisced about her dead son, who, had he survived the fever, would have been exactly my age, while her hand dipped beneath the water, upon which crushed lavender bobbed. Amerigo dei Frescobaldi, the Florentine banker, classed as a nefarious foreign moneylender by the Lords Ordainers, we coupled on the coin-strewn floor of his counting house. The lord and lady who brought me into their bed to amuse them both then ended up quarreling like cats, rolling on the floor and pulling each other’s hair, because each thought I enjoyed pleasuring the other more, when in truth I disliked them both in equal measure. The bishop who decided it was time to be rid of me because the fear of discovery made his knees tremble. I found being his “guilty pleasure,” as he called me, so profitable that I leaned back in my chair and pouted: “I am jealous of this fear; I used to be the only one who could make your knees tremble!” And, slipping off my shoe, I eased my foot beneath his cassock and made him smile. The amiable and elegant earl who spanked “the practiced tart of seventeen” yet sought his favors six years later when he reigned as Regent and Royal Favorite. I thought his affection genuine, yet he abandoned me when I needed him most of all. The King who loved me more than life itself, yet never truly knew or understood me; he was too blinded by my beauty to actually see me. And all the gullible fools who bought my virginity; so many times I’ve gasped in feigned delight: “Oh! I’ve never done this before!” And the women who vied to be the one to wean me from masculine caresses; they never understood that it was only the coins, not the caresser, I cared for. And all the lovers whose savage, single-minded thrusts left me sore and made me bleed, and the hours I spent afterwards lying on my stomach waiting for sleep while Agnes massaged me and a clyster made from her special recipe nestled inside me, slowly melting from my body’s warmth, soothing the irritation, and bringing me blessed relief.

And there have been so many others, countless others, so many whom I could name, but I will not. My time grows short, and I am weary of this game. So look for the rest of your life at every man and woman who crosses your path, Edward, and wonder if they had me; that is my gift to you!

But do not punish or despise Pembroke because I desired him. Blame me, Edward, as beautiful as I am, blame me! Realize for the first time in your life that beauty is not grounds for absolution; it does not stand as a surety for love, truth, honesty, constancy, or anything at all. It is just one more roll of Destiny’s dice that determines whether we come into this world beautiful, grotesque, or simply plain, and we never know until it is too late whether we have won or lost the game; whether our appearance is a blessing or a curse. Which is worse, I have often wondered, to go through life never being wanted at all, or to be wanted for all the wrong reasons? Well the time to ponder philosophy has passed, and I have let my thoughts stray from my story when I need to tell how I came to be in this wretched place.

After Pembroke left me at Deddington Rectory I lay upon my bed. When sleep finally came it was fitful and filled with terrors—the hourglass and broadsword, the stake in the heart of the crackling orange flames, the priest’s voice thundering “Thou shall not suffer a witch to live!”, Warwick’s snarling face, a low growl issuing from deep within his throat, and Lancaster’s malevolent glare of soul-devouring hate. And then I realized that I was not dreaming. Exhaustion and fever had lulled me into a peculiar state where my mind seemed to float just beneath the waters of sleep, bobbing to the surface one moment and below the next. But these were no dream figures standing at the foot of my bed! They were real! And it was not Warwick who growled, but Blanche, crouched protectively at my feet, teeth bared.

“Traitor!” Warwick roared. “Get up! You are taken!”

Blanche began to bark and it was then that he took hold of her neck. It all happened so quickly, that savage, sickening snap of bones and the single shrill yelp abruptly become a whimper. He left her lying dead, white and limp, across my feet.

“The Black Dog has come to keep his promise that you shall feel his bite!” Warwick barked as he motioned for two of his men to seize me and drag me naked from my bed.

“I told you to get up!” Warwick snarled, sweeping disdainful eyes over my body. Suddenly he stepped forward and drove his fist hard into my stomach. I fell to my knees, gasping, bent double and breathless with pain.

“You try my patience, Gaveston! Did you not hear me tell you to get up? Make haste, man, and dress yourself or we shall take you as you are! Perhaps the good people of England would like to see the charms that have enslaved their foolish King?”

I staggered over to the chair where my satchel sat with the clothes I had worn that day draped over it. I had barely slipped my linen shirt over my head before Warwick grumbled: “No doubt you are accustomed to this leisurely manner of dressing, Gaveston, but we have neither the time nor the patience for it! Take him!” No sooner had the words left his lips than there was a guard on either side of me, gripping my arms.

“My Lord, I protest, I am the Earl of Pembroke’s prisoner not yours!” But my words fell on deaf ears; Warwick simply turned his back and strode from the room with the gloating, jubilant Lancaster trailing after him.

As I was hustled out into the night, barefoot and wearing nothing but my shirt, I noticed another guard—Geoffrey, I later learned his name was—stuff my clothes and boots into my satchel and swing it over his shoulder. For this I have much cause to be grateful. Today my possessions were restored to me so that I may die decently clad. And, since this book was inside, I am able to finish what I began. Geoffrey has promised to deliver it to Agnes and ask her to see it safely into Edward’s hands. And if he keeps his promise, Edward, for better or worse, you shall read these words. And perhaps in death you shall come to understand me as you never did in life, for this body you love so shall rot, ripen with a noxious stink, and no longer dazzle your eyes!

They loaded me with such a surfeit of chains it would have been a hard burden for a broader built man in the full bloom of health to bear. “Just as His Majesty loaded you with jewels,” they chortled. “Imagine them gold, Gaveston, it will help you bear the weight better!”

I was not allowed to mount a horse but made to walk instead. Soon the sun rose, blazing hot and scorching bright. And the curious came to throng the roadside to see the King’s Favorite scantily clad, walking barefoot and in chains behind Warwick and Lancaster, sitting tall and proud, haughty and triumphant, in their saddles, their silver armor shining in the hot June sun. The people cheered them, blessed them and threw flowers, while they cursed, spat, and laughed at me.

Once Lancaster looked back and cautioned: “Stay on your feet, Gaveston; if you fall we will not stop for you!” And I knew he spoke the truth.

The hard dirt road was so hot it burned my feet, and it was badly strewn with ruts and rocks. Again and again, I stumbled and gasped as sharp stones stabbed the soles of my feet. When I looked back over my shoulder I saw the footprints I left behind me were red.

As we traveled, word spread and the crowds swelled. They made up songs to “let the glorious news be spread! The land, sea, stars, and all mankind rejoice in his fall! There will be peace and rejoicing throughout the realm when evil Piers, with all his charms, is dead!” Others blew their hunting horns and raised their tankards in toasts “now that the peacock has lost his splendor!”

One bold matron darted forward and lifted my shirt, saying she wanted to see the cock and balls that were the King’s favorite toys. And, not satisfied with this glimpse, she tore a long, ragged strip from the hem to keep as a souvenir. I was powerless to stop her, and the others who followed her, as my hands were chained behind my back.