Read Online Isabella and the Strange Death of Edward II by Paul Doherty - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Paul Doherty
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records. Mortimer and Beresford had been condemned for being responsible for Edward II’s death. The rest had fled. Berkeley had been questioned and he had adroitly side-stepped the issue: ‘I don’t know what really happened. I did my best but I wasn’t directly responsible. Only Gurney has the answer, he might know what happened to your father.’
Gurney, then, would have been able to clarify all doubts, corroborate or disprove Berkeley’s story. No wonder Lord Thomas helped Gurney and others to escape; he could pass the blame onto them whilst they were in no position to disprove his story. The Crown might have had its doubts about Berkeley, hence the seven-year delay in issuing a full pardon to him. However, in view of Berkeley’s public, not to mention his private defence, what could the King do but go after the one person who might know the full truth – Thomas Gurney? The pursuit of Gurney was motivatednot by revenge but by a desire to know the full facts about the fate of Edward II. Did Gurney talk before he died? Or was he too ill, too tired? Did he take his secret to the grave? Probably the latter: Edward III’s arrest of ‘William the Welshman’, as well as Fieschi’s letter, indicate that secret doubts remained.
Little wonder, therefore, that Edward III spent so much money and time on Gurney and very little on his father’s grave. The abbots of Gloucester, thanks to the growing fame of their abbey church, St Peter’s, with its royal tomb, transformed it with the some of the most magnificent perpendicular architecture of the Middle Ages. But there is scanty evidence that either Edward III or Isabella singled out St Peter’s, Gloucester, for patronage and lavish expenditure. Edward III wanted to erase all memory of his father. Moreover, why should the Crown spend sums on a royal tomb, which could have possibly housed the remains of some unfortunate look-alike?
In conclusion, the central question still remains: if Edward II escaped, what happened to him? Why didn’t he proclaim himself and become a rallying point for rebellion and dissent? A number of possibilities present themselves. First, Edward II may have been broken in body and spirit by the time he was released in July 1327. The chroniclers’ description of him during the deposition process illustrates a man at the end of his tether. There is considerable evidence that once he was taken from the custody of Henry of Lancaster, he was hurriedly moved around the country and probably abused, physically and mentally, by his new gaolers. The Dunheveds may have released a man whom they could scarcely acknowledge to be their King. Perhapsthere is some truth in ‘William the Welshman’s’ story? It is possible that Edward II, a broken man, wandered through Europe, rejected by many because of his appearance and lack of wits. He was, however, accepted by the papacy, furnished Fieschi with a good story and spent his last days as a hermit in the mountains of northern Italy.
A second possibility is that Edward II, during the Dunheveds’ ferocious attack upon Berkeley, was seriously injured or wounded and later died elsewhere. However, if the Dunheveds were harbouring him, some legends would have grown up, local folklore about a king dying and being buried. And it is unlikely that his liberators would have allowed his corpse to remain in an unmarked grave but would probably have converted it into a shrine, which would eventually have attracted public attention.
The third possibility is that Edward II escaped unscathed but that Mortimer’s men pursued him and the Dunheveds, in what the medieval knights called, ‘une lutte à l’outrance’ (‘a fight to the death’). Edward II and his adherents would have been massacred, killed on the spot. However, if this was the case, Mortimer would no doubt have had the corpse, wounded or not, taken back to Berkeley, dressed and embalmed for burial, then exhibited so as to stifle any protests or doubts.
Gurney, then, would have been able to clarify all doubts, corroborate or disprove Berkeley’s story. No wonder Lord Thomas helped Gurney and others to escape; he could pass the blame onto them whilst they were in no position to disprove his story. The Crown might have had its doubts about Berkeley, hence the seven-year delay in issuing a full pardon to him. However, in view of Berkeley’s public, not to mention his private defence, what could the King do but go after the one person who might know the full truth – Thomas Gurney? The pursuit of Gurney was motivatednot by revenge but by a desire to know the full facts about the fate of Edward II. Did Gurney talk before he died? Or was he too ill, too tired? Did he take his secret to the grave? Probably the latter: Edward III’s arrest of ‘William the Welshman’, as well as Fieschi’s letter, indicate that secret doubts remained.
Little wonder, therefore, that Edward III spent so much money and time on Gurney and very little on his father’s grave. The abbots of Gloucester, thanks to the growing fame of their abbey church, St Peter’s, with its royal tomb, transformed it with the some of the most magnificent perpendicular architecture of the Middle Ages. But there is scanty evidence that either Edward III or Isabella singled out St Peter’s, Gloucester, for patronage and lavish expenditure. Edward III wanted to erase all memory of his father. Moreover, why should the Crown spend sums on a royal tomb, which could have possibly housed the remains of some unfortunate look-alike?
In conclusion, the central question still remains: if Edward II escaped, what happened to him? Why didn’t he proclaim himself and become a rallying point for rebellion and dissent? A number of possibilities present themselves. First, Edward II may have been broken in body and spirit by the time he was released in July 1327. The chroniclers’ description of him during the deposition process illustrates a man at the end of his tether. There is considerable evidence that once he was taken from the custody of Henry of Lancaster, he was hurriedly moved around the country and probably abused, physically and mentally, by his new gaolers. The Dunheveds may have released a man whom they could scarcely acknowledge to be their King. Perhapsthere is some truth in ‘William the Welshman’s’ story? It is possible that Edward II, a broken man, wandered through Europe, rejected by many because of his appearance and lack of wits. He was, however, accepted by the papacy, furnished Fieschi with a good story and spent his last days as a hermit in the mountains of northern Italy.
A second possibility is that Edward II, during the Dunheveds’ ferocious attack upon Berkeley, was seriously injured or wounded and later died elsewhere. However, if the Dunheveds were harbouring him, some legends would have grown up, local folklore about a king dying and being buried. And it is unlikely that his liberators would have allowed his corpse to remain in an unmarked grave but would probably have converted it into a shrine, which would eventually have attracted public attention.
The third possibility is that Edward II escaped unscathed but that Mortimer’s men pursued him and the Dunheveds, in what the medieval knights called, ‘une lutte à l’outrance’ (‘a fight to the death’). Edward II and his adherents would have been massacred, killed on the spot. However, if this was the case, Mortimer would no doubt have had the corpse, wounded or not, taken back to Berkeley, dressed and embalmed for burial, then exhibited so as to stifle any protests or doubts.
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