It was my very good fortune in the spring of 1977 while an undergraduate at Tufts to attend a medieval conference at Northeastern University at which Charles T. Wood was the keynote speaker. Along with the rest of the audience I was charmed by his unique blend of wit and erudition, inspired--and perhaps a bit daunted--by his ability to unravel the tangled threads of a medieval mystery. A few months later I embarked upon my graduate career at Emory University where it was again my great good fortune to work with another charming rogue who blended wit and erudition--albeit with a substantial additional measure of irrascibility--the late George Peddy Cuttino. While I was working on my dissertation on Piers Gaveston, Professor Cuttino was involved in producing a classic piece of history in the comic mode, "Where is Edward II?"[1] Do you know, by the way, that in order to pass my Latin competency exam, GPC made me translate the infamous Fieschi letter about Edward II's escape from captivity? Yes. I almost failed when I mistranslated roba, and had Edward II fleeing Berkeley Castle in a dress. Of course, most people would agree that this was a rather innocent and understandable confusion on my part given the king's sexual proclivities, and so when the laughter died down about Edward's escape in drag, I passed. When I finally finished my dissertation, Charlie Wood, appropriately enough the author of "Kings, Queens, and Queans," was gracious enough to serve as outside reader, and I would like to acknowledge today my gratitude not only for this, but also for the many draft manuscripts he has vetted for me along the way from there to here. His generosity to younger scholars has been a great inspiration to me, and I'm sure to many others in this room. In about 1985 or '86 I agreed to serve as editor for a Festschrift for Professor Cuttino, and Charlie agreed to write. In fact, if memory serves he even came up with the title "Documenting the Past" over lunch one day in London. His contribution to the Festschrift, "Where is John the Posthumous,"[2] is an elegant essay by turns comical and serious, which instructs while entertaining. Which brings me to my task today.

When I was asked to participate in this symposium of History in the Comic Mode, I naturally thought of a paper title at once, "Where is ..." Who? Edward II was already gone. Charlie himself had done John the Posthumous. There's a whole industry devoted to this Waldo character. Nope. It just didn't work. And so I turned to Plan B, "Edward II: Piers Gaveston's Younger Brother."

In 1994 Pierre Chaplais threw a wicked curve at scholars of the reign of Edward II, and more broadly those who study homosexuality and gender issues in the middle ages. Attempting to debunk the accepted notion that Edward and Gaveston were homosexual lovers, Chaplais argued that in fact they had entered into a compact of adoptive brotherhood.[3] The idea has been received with derision in some quarters, but generally with cautious circumspection.[4] Members of the Society of the White Hart such as Jim Gillespie, Chris Given-Wilson, and myself have noted in reviews that while Chaplais' theory is plausible, and may even be capable of proof, so far no real proof has been adduced, merely speculation and intriguing but circumstantial hints made more compelling by Chaplais masterful command of paleography and diplomatic. Today, in the comic mode of Cuttino and Wood, and with tongue firmly planted in cheek, I wish to offer a new scenario for you consideration.

No one is sure of the exact date of birth of Piers Gaveston. In Trokelowe's chronicle he and Edward II are refered to as coetani,[5] but these sorts of generalizations are notoriously untrustworthy. We know that the future Edward II was born at Caernarvon on 25 April 1284, and since Gaveston's mother Claramonde de Marsan had died not later than February 1288,[6] we know that Gaveston could not have been much younger than his future lord. In fact, a good deal of evidence points towards Gaveston being older that Edward of Caernarvon. But how much older? How about eleven years? On 30 June 1272 Edward I was on his way back to England from the Crusades. On that date he sealed an agreement with Claramonde in which she acknowledged a debt of 20,000 sous de morlans, which she had received from the king in return for the strategically important castle of Louvigny. Did he also transact other business with the lady of Marsan? Could she, nine months later in the spring of 1273, have given birth to an illegitimate son? The circumstantial evidence is intriguing.

Piers Gaveston does not appear in the English records until 1297 when he is found campaigning with his father Arnaud de Gabaston in Flanders. Arnaud himself had been in royal service since 1282, sometimes accompanied by his sons Arnaud-Guillaume de Marsan and Guillaume-Arnaud de Gabaston, the latter acknowledged in the sources as illegitimate. This "bastard of Gaveston" never appears in the same place as Piers Gaveston throughout his life, and he is said to have died in 1312. Could this in fact be the same person with two identities, one Gascon, one English? In any case, Piers soon found himself in the household of the prince of Wales, as the only puer in custodia without a magister, clearly an indication of his superior years. While still in the prince's household Gaveston's father Arnaud died in 1302. Is it not also intriguing that a relatively humble Gascon knight should have been entombed in a spledid memorial within Winchester Cathedral?

In any case, without going through the minutiae of Gaveston's life at court, suffice it to say that he and Edward of Caernarvon soon became inseperable. In order to remedy this situation Edward I sent Piers into exile in 1307, albeit on very lenient terms. In due course he was recalled by Edward II and elevated to the peerage with the earldom of Cornwall. Chaplais makes much of the fact that the charter of enfeoffment was dated 6 August 1307, a date on which the Feast of the Transfiguration was sometimes celebrated.[7] He interprets this as a reference of the transfiguration of Gaveston from humble knight to lofty earl. But could not the transfiguration actually be of an even greater sort, the recognition that royal blood flowed through the veins of the son of Edward I and Claramonde de Marsan? Chaplais is also at pains to explain the decoration of the charter of enfeoffment which associates Gaveston's arms with those of the house of Clare, into which he would shortly marry, and the royal arms.[8] But overarching all was the eagle that was Gaveston. Illegitimate, but of royal descent, and the older brother of the reigning king. Needless to say, if we accept the possibility of Edward I having sired Gaveston, there is no longer any difficulty in understanding why the Vita Edwardi Secundi reports that Edward II "had always called him his brother."[9] Indeed, virtually every aspect of Edward's treatment of his favorite becomes easier to comprehend once we accept the true nature of the brotherhood that existed between the two men.

We may have to follow Chaplais in rejecting a homosexual relationship for Piers Gaveston and Edward II if indeed they were natural half-brothers. But that raises another equally fascinating possibility. Despite some very serious chronological, and therefore biological, problems, Hollywood would like us to believe--and my students certainly do--that William Wallace was the father of Edward III. Let me leave you with two final thoughts: Edward II: Piers Gaveston's younger brother. Edward III: Piers Gaveston's posthumous son.