I. 7. Husbands, Wives and Lovers
The youngest of us three Poraj sons was now married. That meant there was no longer any reason for Mama to stay in Kalisz. I asked her to come back to Poznan. It had been her first home, it was where she belonged. Besides, I had work for her to do.
The Mazoviecki children had grown up. It was time for them to get married and have their own families. Easier said than done, as I discovered.
“Nobody will have them,” I explained to Mama. “I’ve asked several good people and none of them will have them. What do they think they are, lepers?”
“Your father promised Lord Mazoviecki that he would provide for his children as befitting their -- well, their former station,” she said.
“You’ll have to see to it, Mama, I’ve already tried, and there are other more pressing things for me to do than play match-maker.”
“Leave it to me.”
She was as good as her word. After conferring with the Spymaster and with Archbishop Gniezdno, she wrote five or six letters.
“Count Poppo?” I searched my memory. “Who on earth is that?”
“A fine young man, except for his name, from the very noble house of von Weimar. He rules in sunny Krain between the Alps and the Adriatic Sea. Anastazja was delighted with the idea.”
“And Anna is going to marry Wistan of Godwin? Is that the Godwins of England?”
“Wistan’s father is Count of Oxford. Wistan’s not the heir, but one never knows.”
“The Godwins of England, I can’t believe it. I thought Anna didn’t want to leave Poland?”
“When your choice is either emigrate or die an old maid, there’s nothing more to be said.”
“And little Bedzimir?”
“Little grown up Bedzimir is going to a little barony in Italy. Carola di Cervia will inherit, the Baron is poorly and not expected to last another year. He didn’t even insist on a matrilineal contract.”
“Thank you, Mama, thank you! But now I have another mission for you. It’s Dobrogost.”
The son of Jakub, the former Marshal, had also come of age. We knew each other well. His being a dwarf in no way diminished him in the eyes of anyone in the family. But close contact with his liege had only produced feelings of envy and hurt. After my accession, these had mushroomed into outright rivalry. His presence at Court was intolerable for both of us. He had to go.
“Leave it to me,” Mama said once again. Two weeks later, Dobrogost was packed and out the door.
“Manresa?”
“It’s in Spain,” Mama answered.
“Do they know about his... size?”
“Of course. It’s all right. But on condition of a matrilineal clause. Dobby still gets to be addressed as Baron. Now do I have leave to spend time with my grand-daughter?”
I embraced my mother. Stanislawa had given birth to a beautiful little girl. We named her Helena. No harelip! In addition, civilization was being brought to the new counties of my domain, and the Steward was (slowly) bringing more gold into our coffers.
The King gave a New Year’s Banquet in 1094. We were of course invited. After all the kindness and generosity he had already shown us, it was difficult to imagine that our situation could improve. But improve it did. I spent many an hour in his company, in leisure and in affairs of the Realm. At the end of a prolonged visit, I couldn’t help but look on His Majesty as a true mentor. As for the King, he declared himself my friend.
It was some months later when the wheel of Fortune began to turn the other way.
My Chancellor had passed away. My brother Count Bruno had given proof of remarkable talent in the business of government. I named him Chancellor of Greater Poland. It was thanks to him that I began to understand.
“Is everything all right with you and Stanislawa?” he asked one day.
The most dreaded, and perchance most often heard, rhetorical question. He said it in private, of course. But how many people had already noticed the change in behaviour? Stanislawa would go to Volhynia once in a while, but that was not what was amiss. It was something more serious.
I had my suspicions. But there was no concrete evidence. I was paralysed with both anger and humiliation. I hinted to Stanislawa that I knew what was going on. She replied that she would never dream of doing anything so demeaning. Then she laughed in my face.
By this time the army was ready for another campaign. The Pomeranian territory of Szczecin was the next logical target of conquest. I called up all our men. The Pomeranians could muster as many men as we could. They had the advantage of their homeland and our foreseeable attrition. The horn of battle was sounded anyway. Wasn’t I Duke Laurentius, the brilliant Organiser? I would conquer the territory not so much by head-on battle as by leading the enemy into traps and crushing them.
As it happened, Fortune’s wheel turned my way again.
The arrival of the Royal Cavalry spelt utter defeat for the heathen Pomeranians. Their High Chief, however, still had one trick up his sleeve.
With their declaration of conversion to the banner of the one and only Redeemer, and an impertinent summons to cease hostilities in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, we were obliged to abandon our war of conquest.
I returned to Court in a sullen mood. To my surprise, Stanislawa was waiting for me. She was full of apology and tenderness. Her apparent change of attitude conquered my pride. She stayed with me the whole winter of 1097 - 1098. At Christmas she was certain she was with child again.
Stanislawa travelled to Volhynia at the end of January. Thus it happened that I was alone with Mama when she quietly sank into her final sleep. Alone, that is, except for Adèle, Laurentius, Éric and Helena. Mama was now where she wanted to be.
The beginning of March brought not only the promise of spring but troubling rumours.
The whispers, the attitudes, the gift of a duchy, the absences, the shadow of plotted murder. Suddenly, it hit me. Boleslaw. My wife had become the mistress of the King.
The youngest of us three Poraj sons was now married. That meant there was no longer any reason for Mama to stay in Kalisz. I asked her to come back to Poznan. It had been her first home, it was where she belonged. Besides, I had work for her to do.
The Mazoviecki children had grown up. It was time for them to get married and have their own families. Easier said than done, as I discovered.
“Nobody will have them,” I explained to Mama. “I’ve asked several good people and none of them will have them. What do they think they are, lepers?”
“Your father promised Lord Mazoviecki that he would provide for his children as befitting their -- well, their former station,” she said.
“You’ll have to see to it, Mama, I’ve already tried, and there are other more pressing things for me to do than play match-maker.”
“Leave it to me.”
She was as good as her word. After conferring with the Spymaster and with Archbishop Gniezdno, she wrote five or six letters.
“Count Poppo?” I searched my memory. “Who on earth is that?”
“A fine young man, except for his name, from the very noble house of von Weimar. He rules in sunny Krain between the Alps and the Adriatic Sea. Anastazja was delighted with the idea.”
“And Anna is going to marry Wistan of Godwin? Is that the Godwins of England?”
“Wistan’s father is Count of Oxford. Wistan’s not the heir, but one never knows.”
“The Godwins of England, I can’t believe it. I thought Anna didn’t want to leave Poland?”
“When your choice is either emigrate or die an old maid, there’s nothing more to be said.”
“And little Bedzimir?”
“Little grown up Bedzimir is going to a little barony in Italy. Carola di Cervia will inherit, the Baron is poorly and not expected to last another year. He didn’t even insist on a matrilineal contract.”
“Thank you, Mama, thank you! But now I have another mission for you. It’s Dobrogost.”
The son of Jakub, the former Marshal, had also come of age. We knew each other well. His being a dwarf in no way diminished him in the eyes of anyone in the family. But close contact with his liege had only produced feelings of envy and hurt. After my accession, these had mushroomed into outright rivalry. His presence at Court was intolerable for both of us. He had to go.
“Leave it to me,” Mama said once again. Two weeks later, Dobrogost was packed and out the door.
“Manresa?”
“It’s in Spain,” Mama answered.
“Do they know about his... size?”
“Of course. It’s all right. But on condition of a matrilineal clause. Dobby still gets to be addressed as Baron. Now do I have leave to spend time with my grand-daughter?”
I embraced my mother. Stanislawa had given birth to a beautiful little girl. We named her Helena. No harelip! In addition, civilization was being brought to the new counties of my domain, and the Steward was (slowly) bringing more gold into our coffers.
******
The King gave a New Year’s Banquet in 1094. We were of course invited. After all the kindness and generosity he had already shown us, it was difficult to imagine that our situation could improve. But improve it did. I spent many an hour in his company, in leisure and in affairs of the Realm. At the end of a prolonged visit, I couldn’t help but look on His Majesty as a true mentor. As for the King, he declared himself my friend.
It was some months later when the wheel of Fortune began to turn the other way.
My Chancellor had passed away. My brother Count Bruno had given proof of remarkable talent in the business of government. I named him Chancellor of Greater Poland. It was thanks to him that I began to understand.
“Is everything all right with you and Stanislawa?” he asked one day.
The most dreaded, and perchance most often heard, rhetorical question. He said it in private, of course. But how many people had already noticed the change in behaviour? Stanislawa would go to Volhynia once in a while, but that was not what was amiss. It was something more serious.
I had my suspicions. But there was no concrete evidence. I was paralysed with both anger and humiliation. I hinted to Stanislawa that I knew what was going on. She replied that she would never dream of doing anything so demeaning. Then she laughed in my face.
By this time the army was ready for another campaign. The Pomeranian territory of Szczecin was the next logical target of conquest. I called up all our men. The Pomeranians could muster as many men as we could. They had the advantage of their homeland and our foreseeable attrition. The horn of battle was sounded anyway. Wasn’t I Duke Laurentius, the brilliant Organiser? I would conquer the territory not so much by head-on battle as by leading the enemy into traps and crushing them.
As it happened, Fortune’s wheel turned my way again.
The arrival of the Royal Cavalry spelt utter defeat for the heathen Pomeranians. Their High Chief, however, still had one trick up his sleeve.
With their declaration of conversion to the banner of the one and only Redeemer, and an impertinent summons to cease hostilities in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, we were obliged to abandon our war of conquest.
I returned to Court in a sullen mood. To my surprise, Stanislawa was waiting for me. She was full of apology and tenderness. Her apparent change of attitude conquered my pride. She stayed with me the whole winter of 1097 - 1098. At Christmas she was certain she was with child again.
Stanislawa travelled to Volhynia at the end of January. Thus it happened that I was alone with Mama when she quietly sank into her final sleep. Alone, that is, except for Adèle, Laurentius, Éric and Helena. Mama was now where she wanted to be.
The beginning of March brought not only the promise of spring but troubling rumours.
The whispers, the attitudes, the gift of a duchy, the absences, the shadow of plotted murder. Suddenly, it hit me. Boleslaw. My wife had become the mistress of the King.
******