Piers Gaveston

“ Budd’s MS. here makes it doubtful whether this should not read “watchword,” “catchword,” or even “patchwork.” (Lit. Exec.)
But so hectic a life could hardly last. Although they ate their meals in the chicest restaurants, and their hotel was the largest and most replete with les conforts home in all the Gay City, Gaveston found himself beset with ennui. He felt very surely that a chapter in his life was drawing to a close; new interests would soon be clamorous for treatment. ”

“ Gaveston touched her ladyship’s hand with his lips.
Considerably younger than her husband, and only comparatively recently married, she too was one of those tantalizingly complex personalities which only an old landed aristocracy can evolve. Born in Latvia, and educated in a pensionnat hard by Warsaw, she was at once mondaine and mystic. ”

“ And Gaveston had triumphed, superbly. Somehow the evening and its experiences had made life more intricately beautiful, more complex in its manifold possibilities. Would he go back to the Albany by the Vigo Street entrance? Or would he rather walk abroad until dawn came, and then spend an hour in the cold, dim beauty of Covent Garden, [91] watching the great wheeled wains of cauliflowers passing spectral through the morning mists? ”

“ With a start Gaveston drew himself up in his chair. How tranquil it all was around Malmaison Lodge! Only from the Virginy creeper beneath his window-sill a ragged-robin chirped her tremulous aubade to a distant willow-warbler invisible among the reeds. The guests had stolen quietly away to their respective bedrooms, and [242] the short midsummer night had hurried past as silent and fleet-footed as his own reverie. He rose to face a new day, a new life....
The future held surprises still, no doubt, even in the unchanging City of the spires. ”

“ With a click the flag of his meter fell in symbolic surrender to this new arrival, and the motor, a throbbing anachronism, sped fussily away towards those rotund domes and soaring spires, whence, through the mellow streaming of October sunlight, came already the distant bombilation of crowding, multisonant bells....
All impatience, Gaveston waited there for his chosen conveyance, and glanced coldly at the unimaginative battalions of undergraduates around him, who, callous to all appropriacy, were noisily flinging themselves and their golf-clubs into humdrum [15] taxicabs. ”

“ Nothing was ever divulged about what happened during the first three weeks of that vacation. Gaveston was always discreet. But Monty Wytham, spending a few days at Heidelberg, had been surprised to see his college friend passing through the station in a special train, with blinds partially drawn, and wearing [183] in his button-hole a tiny rosette, like the légion d’honneur, but white.
There was no secrecy about the second half of that vacation. Gaveston knew he must now test the Great Heart of the People. ”

“ For a ffoulis it was easy to see life steadily and see it whole, but for a Minns or a Jones there seemed to be a curious difficulty in reconciling Dorian Gray with The Ritual Reason Why. It was a bagatelle for Gaveston to haste across the road from a protracted tea-party at Pembroke with the leading Oxford authority on dalmatics to a gay picnic supper at Christ Church, where dancing in pyjama costume would be varied with caviare and liqueurs. Each party would rightly acclaim him as the most enthusiastic and daring spirit present.
“He’s superbly High,” the one host would say as he left. ”

“ As term drew to its close, Gaveston saw that he had extracted all that either set could give him, and he planned a glorious symposium of both of his sets for the last day of term. John Jones warned him, in honest manly fashion, that he was attempting the impossible. But Gaveston’s mind was made up.
“No, John,” he argued. “This term must end in glowing magnificence—benedictionally—come what may. Life, as they say at Brasenose, must burn with a hard gem-like flame. Besides, it’s an Ember day.”
And John was persuaded to distribute the invitations in Keble. ”

“ These things made the barons and nobles of England extremely indignant, for Gaveston, besides being a corrupt and dissipated character, was, in fact, a foreigner by birth, being a native of Gascony, in France. His character seemed to grow worse with his exaltation, and he and Edward spent all their time in rioting and excess, and in perpetrating every species of iniquity.
The king goes away to be married. ”

“ In a word, the nobles were excited to the greatest pitch of rage and indignation against the favorite, and, after various struggles and contentions between them and the king, they at length broke out into an open revolt. The king at this time, with Gaveston and his wife, were at Newcastle, which is in the north of England. The barons fell upon him here with the intention of seizing Gaveston. Both the king and Gaveston, however, succeeded in making their escape. Gaveston fled to a castle, and shut himself up there. ”

“ Hertford too, where the winged nudity of cherubim upholds a high-flung Bridge of Sighs, they drew near the elephantine deities of the Indian Institute, and thence in the darkling distance, they could see before them the polychrome of Keble, and beyond, glowing faint and Venetian beneath the decrescent moon and a myriad plangent stars, the patterned diaper of the Parks Museum.
“It is too, too beautiful ...” whispered Gaveston, and his voice tailed away. ”

“ At a glance Gav saw that here at least no elaborate diplomacy would be needed: the characteristic ffoulis charm would suffice. The venerable Warden, for his [191] part, veteran though he was of a thousand such encounters, saw that at last he had met a duellist worthy of a finer Toledo steel than ever he could wield. He glanced out of his armoured window towards the towering dome of the Shelley Memorial, and his lips tightened.
Gaveston, twinkle-eyed, made the opening démarche.
“The Emperor, sir, is come to Canossa,” he said, a charming smile playing about his attractive lips. ”

“ What days of rich imaginings these were that now came for Gaveston in this Lenten term! How glad and mad and bad it all was! How crowded these weeks where bizarrerie vied with bizarrerie and whimsey with whimsey! ”

“ Profoundly as he believed in Nature, he did not discount the urban amenities. [16]
[16] These words might well have been inscribed as an epitaph on Mr. Budd’s watery tomb. (Lit. Exec.)
Eights Week came in due course, and Gav was busied with the reception of some offshoots of his family on the Penhaligon [145] side. His mother advised him of their coming in the postscript of a long letter from Mürren, where she was passing the summer. And Gaveston was not slow to close his Tussore collar, don the famous club tie of the Union Society, and engage a suite at the Mitre Inn. ”

“ Often enough they would talk, sometimes both would sit in profound silence, and not seldom, as term drew on, Gaveston would dictate to his friend his compositions for the Newdigate Prize Poem (the set subject was “University Reform,” the couplets heroic) , for the Chancellor’s Essay in Latin Prose (it was De Complice Oedipi this year) , for the Disputation in Middle Aramaic, the impromptu cuneiform inscriptions, for the French epigrams and the Postlethwaite Allocution, and many another blue riband of scholarship. ”

“ The king was alarmed. He, however, could [Pg 57] not think of giving his favorite up. So he said that he would return them an answer to the petition by-and-by, and he immediately began to pursue a more conciliatory course toward the nobles. But the effect of his attempts at conciliation was spoiled by Gaveston's behavior. He became more and more proud and ostentatious every day. He appeared in all public places, and every where he took precedence of the highest nobles of the land, and prided himself on outshining them in the pomp and parade which he displayed. ”

“ But Gaveston did not listen to what the fisherman had said. This was enough for him. All he knew was that his mother simply hated ortolans à la Milanaise. (“So cloying, Gav dearest,” he remembered her wistful expression when he had suggested them once in Monte—or was it Mentone—and how the scented wind from the terrace had stirred his golden locks: [83] he couldn’t have been more than four at the time.) No, this must be the test for Raoul du Val. If the fellow were really in love with poor Mums, he could not possibly eat ortolans à la Milanaise. ”

“ The not unattractive character of Gaveston, too, affectionate, gay, proud, quick-tempered, brave—with faults also, of deceit, vanity and vindictiveness—preserves the royal friendship from the sink of blind dotage upon an unworthy creature. ”

“ But once at Malmaison Lodge, Gaveston had to rush back to the station to meet Lady Blandula and Lady Jordan and Uncle Wilkinson who were to make up the house party....
Hard on the heels of each day followed another. Between the college balls which [232] Gav and his mother and Lady Blandula nightly graced, there seemed scarcely a few fleeting hours for river parties under the wine-red hawthorns of Islip or Newnham, and almost before anyone had realized it—the last day of all had come! ”

“ Gaveston's conduct became so overbearing, that a regular British cry of "Turn him out!" resounded from one end of the kingdom to the other. Englishmen seldom do things by halves, and having once raised a shout, they did not desist from it, but to the howl of "Turn him out," they added a demand for the sovereign to "Throw him over!" With this requisition Edward reluctantly complied, and Gaveston was expelled from England; but only to be made Governor of Ireland, until the king could get the permission of the barons to allow the favourite to come back again. ”

“ At once Gaveston rose from his seat and stood by the fireplace. His address was a masterpiece of editorial tact.
“You’re right, Mr. Arundel,” he began; and this revival of an all but forgotten name at such an auspicious moment was recognized as possessing the true ffoulis cachet. [160] “You’re right. Our foreign policy shall centre round the Balkans: they need a rallying point. You’re right too, O’Neill: we shall insist on the importance of Art for the Masses. You shall write an article on Morris Dancing and we shall publish at least two poems in every number. ”

“ Now, this same Gaveston was handsome enough, but was a reckless, insolent, audacious fellow. He was detested by the proud English Lords: not only because he had such power over the King and made the Court such a dissipated place, but also, because he could ride better than they at tournaments, and was used, in his impudence, to cut very bad jokes on them; calling one, the old hog; another, the stage-player; another, the Jew; another, the black dog of Ardenne. ”

“ Gaveston, who really possessed much talent and learning, and might have made a distinguished and useful man, had he been employed by an able monarch, who would have called out his better, and kept in check his worst qualities, discharged his duties in Ireland as governor with vigour, repressed a rebellion there, and promoted order. ”

“ At last it was there, that fateful Thursday when Gaveston would have to face the examiners in Divinity Moderations and place the crown on his academic career.
“You’ll all come to my viva, of course,” Gav had said to the assembled house party at Malmaison Lodge. “David will give you the tickets. It’s at six o’clock (do be punctual, Mums!) —and it’ll all be over in time for us to change before dinner here at seven.”
“You’re sure it won’t last too long, Gav darling. You mustn’t tire yourself,” Lady Penhaligon’s voice was heard above the delighted murmurs of assent. ”

“ Gaveston relished to the full the fascination of the famous peer.
“Take an olive,” murmured Vivian, putting away his tiny gold-mounted lip-salve, “and tell me how our Alma Mater is standing the ravages of this twentieth century.”
Gaveston took one, and told him. He had by now gathered that his new friend had already gone down some not inconsiderable [129] time. Lord Vivian hardly looked so youthful as he had in that uncertain vaporous light underneath Jermyn Street, but still—the bortsch was excellent, and the skilful host had ordered a cuve of champagne, Veuve Amiot of course. ”

“ His wits rallied, and he recovered himself. “I hope, Sir Nicholas,” he winged the words down the long table, “you won’t swap a defaced Ireland for a second-hand St. Helena.”
It was a characteristic lightning-flash, and a thunder-clap of delighted laughter broke from all, not least from Sir Nicholas himself; he appreciated the subtle compliment. [213] The Jordans gazed proudly at their promising débutant. Miss Tropes made a hurried note. Seldom had even Gaveston himself felt so sure of himself or so proud of the great ffoulis heritage of wit. ”

“ But Gaveston was firm.
“Dumbee bellee muchee betteree,” he had insisted.
The ffoulises were all linguists.
He returned to Oxford convinced of the immediate importance of pressing his campaign. Munich and Haggerston had been equally encouraging. The fifth number of The Mongoose was already in the press. It contained a signed interview with a well-known Chinatown bruiser, and an unpublished photograph of The King. On the day before publication the bolt fell. Jade-eyed jealousy had dogged [187] the footsteps of success. Two powers had clashed. ”

“ For, after all was said and done, the great secret of Wallace was to be surprised at nothing. And Gaveston never was. It [33] was with him an instinct (atavistic, he supposed) .
So, even on his first night in Hall, he had finished the four solid but wholesome courses of the College dinner (“commons” weren’t they called?) long before any at the freshmen’s table. ”