Historical Britain Blog

Edmund Ironside, Hero or fool?

September 2nd, 2010 by Mercedes Rochelle | No Comments | Filed in General 11th Century topics, King Canute

Edmund Ironside’s foray into written history was as dynamic as it was brief. 1016 was a pivotal year for England, as we see the death of two kings and an awful lot of Danish activity. By the time King Aethelred the Unready died in April of that year, Canute was entrenched in Wessex, with London as his aim. Edmund was declared Aethelred’s successor and immediately set about to bring Wessex back to fold, so to speak. He was generally successful in both finding men willing to fight for him, and giving Canute a run for his money.

Things might have gone very well for Edmund except for his uncanny adhesion to the infamous Eadric of Mercia, or Eadric Streona, also known as Eadric the Grasper and the most rascally traitor in Anglo-Saxon history. Eadric was famous for changing sides at the most critical moment, usually with dire consequences. Why Edmund kept forgiving him and trusting him remains a mystery.

In October, the Battle of Assandun was the turning point. Up to that time, Edmund had won a couple of bloody battles against Canute, but at Assandun, Eadric is said to have cut off the head of a man who looked like the king and held it up, throwing the army into confusion and turning the battle against the English. Most historians believe that Eadric was in the pay of Canute at this time.

Edmund Ironside was soon on the run, and the Danes followed him up the Bristol channel into the Severn, where both sides paused at Olney Island. There was traitor Eadric, again at the side of King Edmund, who suggested that both chieftains resolve their dispute by single combat. Edmund, by far the larger and more powerful man, agreed as did Canute, who could not afford to lose face.

We can only assume that Eadric managed to secretly communicate his plan to Canute, as its result bore the hallmark of the wily man’s tactics. For, as one would have expected, King Edmund was the stronger fighter and soon hammered the Dane, breaking his shield and beating him down when Canute called a stop to the fight. ”Bravest of youths,” he cried out, “why should either of us risk his life for the sake of a crown?” Edmund paused, considering. “Let us be brothers by adoption,” the Dane continued, “and divide the kingdom, governing so that I may rule your affairs, and you mine.” (this came from Florence of Worcester)

And so it was. Apparently exhausted by all the warfare, Edmund Ironside agreed to partition the kingdom between them, with the understanding that one of them would inherit the whole on the other’s death. No mention was made of Edmund’s heirs (remember Eadgar Aetheling?). Canute got the north and Edmund held Wessex.

Unfortunately for Edmund Ironside, he did not survive the winter. Canute had taken up residence in London and the Saxon king died a couple of months later – some said from exhaustion. But others declared that he was killed by Eadric Streona and that Canute, on hearing of this despicable deed, ordered his execution on the spot.

Canute was certainly finished with the traitor. Got rid of him, I reckon.

Where did Earl Godwine Live?

August 24th, 2010 by Mercedes Rochelle | No Comments | Filed in Earl Godwine of Wessex

These great pre-Conquest Earls, who owned hundreds of estates all over England, must have favored a house or two. I keep wondering whether a farmer’s field, or a parking lot might be the very site of a lord’s favorite retreat in the country (in the city it would have been better defined). They had to live somewhere, and since stone castles came later, I guess they must have lived in big wooden structures which of course left no trace.

We know that Earl Godwine was probably the richest man in England after the king (or was he richer than the king?). But where did he live? Research about Godwine and Harold II keeps bringing up the name of Bosham, which is a town in West Sussex not far from Portsmouth and apparently their mainstay.

It is said that King Canute even had a house in Bosham (after all, he was friendly with Godwine), and that one of his daughters may have drowned in the mill race at Bosham and was buried in the Cathedral. It is said that Harold Godwineson’s body was buried there (though most people think he was buried at Waltham). Godwine’s eldest son Swegn murdered his cousin Beorn at Bosham, and Harold is said to have sailed from Bosham on his fateful trip to Normandy, when he fell into the clutches of Duke William. The Saxon church is depicted in the Bayeux Tapestry.

So there are certainly a lot of associations with Bosham. I was surprised to find, in A History of the County of Sussex: Volume 4 by L.F. Salzman, that the author was able to trace the Manor of Bosham all the way from the Norman Conquest to the Earl of Iveagh, who owned it when the book was written in 1953. Even William Marshall and clan had a hand in it.

And today, there is still a Manor of Bosham and a Manor of Bosham House, which allegedly stands on the spot of Canute’s residence. A visit here might be the closest we will get to Godwine’s stomping-grounds, although first you have to get through all the touristy references to Canute Trying to Command the Tide…yep, I forgot to mention that one!

The Battle of Hastings did not take place at Hastings

August 11th, 2010 by Mercedes Rochelle | No Comments | Filed in General 11th Century topics

On my first trip to England I was terribly excited to tour the battlefield of Hastings, and we headed to the town of that name in our rented car. Mind you, this was in the early ’90s, before the internet and easy access to unlimited information. I had all my sketches of the battle itself, but I was kind of unclear as to exactly where it was fought. I figured I’d see signs pointing the way, or something…actually, I’m not sure just what I expected to find! What I didn’t expect was to find the town of Hastings, and no mention of a battlefield anywhere. What a panic!

Luckily, Brits and Americans DO share a common language, and a kind soul pointed us in the right direction. We eventually found our way to Battle, a little over 6 miles to the northwest of Hastings. Needless to say, it’s called Battle for a reason (it was originally called Senlac)! There is an abbey ruin on the site, aptly named Battle Abbey, the altar of which was built on the very spot that Harold Godwineson was killed. And behind the abbey we found the battlefield, appropriately marked with signboards depicting the stages of the battle.

When Duke William landed his fleet on the shores of Britain, he chose the bay of Pevensey, which was a welcoming haven with an old Roman fort, improved by Harold Godwineson and just recently emptied when the Saxon army marched north to Stamfordbridge. Intending to alarm the Saxons as well as live off the land, William marched his army east, laying waste all the way to Hastings, where he erected one of his portable fortifications near the little harbor. From there, he progressed northward toward Senlac, where he met the exhausted Saxons in their last stand.

Why is it called the battle of Hastings? Well, as recently as the 19th century it was referred to as the Battle of Senlac; apparently, the venerable historian Edward A. Freeman created quite a controversy by using (or inventing?) this name. But I can only assume that since the town’s name had changed to Battle (and you wouldn’t want to call it the Battle of Battle), Hastings was the next logical town to reference.

Canute’s London Palace

July 26th, 2010 by Mercedes Rochelle | 4 Comments | Filed in King Canute

see www.Archeurope.com

I found it! After much digging, I found what I was looking for: reference to Canute’s palace in London. Not only did I find the location, but I stumbled across a juicy tidbit that would fit perfectly into my story. That’s certainly the advantage of writing historic fiction: a legend is usually more interesting than a dry fact, so why not incorporate it?

It turns out that Alfred’s re-constructed London comprised a very small section on the Thames, from Billingsgate Quay (just downriver from London Bridge), up to the current Blackfriar’s bridge. There was an old palace between St. Pauls cathedral and the Thames, apparently up against the Roman wall. Here it is thought that the late Anglo-Saxon kings lived and did their government business. The location of the palace is the same as the old Baynard’s Castle, which was built on its foundation by a Norman knight.

According to The Gentleman’s magazine, Volume 139, this is the spot where Canute killed the traitor Eadric and had his body thrown out the window of the palace and into the Thames. Wow! What a scene that must have been!

Where did the King live before the Norman Conquest?

July 23rd, 2010 by Mercedes Rochelle | 2 Comments | Filed in King Canute

I’m writing this post as I research Anglo-Saxon London. I’d like to add some historical local color to my narrative, but aside from references to London Bridge and the Roman wall, I’m having a hard time finding mention of anything, anywhere – especially referring to a royal residence.

The three mile-long Roman walls surrounded what is roughly today’s city limits. What I didn’t know until yesterday was that after the Romans left Britain, Londinium declined and sat in ruins for about 400 years. During the dark ages, the Anglo-Saxons established a settlement about one mile west of the Roman walls, called Lundenwic. The town was at the mouth of the river Fleet (now underground), and served as a lively trading center until Alfred the Great re-established London within its old walls and fortified the city, calling it Lundenburh. This happened within a 10-year period after 886. Lundenwic was then pretty much abandoned and called Ealdwic or “old settlement” which evolved into Aldwych, its name today.

All this is very interesting, but it certainly doesn’t answer my question. However, I have bumped into references that Canute may have built a palace on Thorney Island, the site of the future Westminster Palace (Houses of Parliament). I’m a little confused, because this site is even further upriver from Aldwych, which was upriver from London Bridge. But at least it’s a start! Can’t imagine why Canute and Edward the Confessor would want a palace in a marsh, but I’ll keep digging.

St. Margaret, Widowed Queen

July 14th, 2010 by Mercedes Rochelle | 4 Comments | Filed in Malcolm Canmore

from Seton Armorial

In many ways, St. Margaret is a bit of an enigma to us. Sister of Eadgar Aetheling (see my last post), her family was driven onto the shores of Scotland while fleeing from Norman-occupied England. She is said to have immediately captivated the King of the Scots, who was determined to make her his wife despite her oft-repeated assertions that she was destined for the church.

Apparently, circumstances pressured Margaret to change her mind – not the least of which was the obvious need of her brother for foreign support of his claim to the English throne. But I suspect the main reason she decided to marry Malcolm was the condition of the Scottish Columban church. They observed the Sabbath on Saturday and worked on Sunday; they refused to receive the Sacrament and didn’t recognize the authority of the Pope. Once Queen of Scotland, Margaret took it upon herself to personally oversee the reformation of the Church, and she did so with ruthless persistence.

A grateful Cath0lic church remembered her as a perfect, flawless example of Christian piety and duly canonized her in 1250. What I find interesting is that I believe a canonized female saint must be either a virgin or a widow (please correct me if I am wrong!). Margaret met that particular condition by a mere three days. While she lay on her deathbed, husband Malcolm was off on another raid in Northumbria, where he met his end at the siege of Alnwick.

On receiving news of Malcolm’s death, she is said to have thanked God for “giving her this anguish” at her last hour, then expired, leaving the survivors a difficult task of spiriting away her body while Edinburgh castle was under siege by Malcolm’s half-brother Donald Bane. (More of that in my novel.)

Eventually, Malclom and Margaret were buried in Dunfermline Abbey, but she was disturbed again in 1560, when Scottish Calvinist iconoclasts were said to have desecrated the grave and stolen her head. It is thought that Mary Queen of Scots possessed this reliquary for a while, then the head was toted around Europe and lost during the French Revolution.

Eadgar Aetheling, Ill-fated heir

July 2nd, 2010 by Mercedes Rochelle | 4 Comments | Filed in Malcolm Canmore

Eadgar Aetheling was a Saxon prince and grandson of Edmund Ironside, who was briefly king of England in 1016. He was born in Hungary where his father lived in exile, and in 1057 the family moved back to England at the invitation of the childless Edward the Confessor. His father, Edward the Exile died a few months later, and the children were raised at court.

When Edward the Confessor died in 1066, Eadgar Aetheling was the only surviving heir of the royal house, but his youth made him an unacceptable choice for a crown that had so many powerful claimants. After Harold Godwineson was elected King by the Witan, Eadgar apparently tarried at the court, because after the Battle of Hastings, the surviving Saxon elite rallied around him as the true heir. They even went so far as to elect him King, but as soon as William of Normandy crossed the Thames, Eadgar’s supporters abandoned their Saxon king and submitted to the Norman conqueror.

Needless to say, William kept Eadgar Aetheling as hostage, but at the first opportunity, Eadgar fled England with his family and embarked for Hungary. However, a great storm drove their ship into the Firth of Forth, where they landed on the north shore near Queensferry and took refuge with Malcolm III, King of Scotland.

This was a lucky accident for Eadgar, because Malcolm fell in love with his sister Margaret and eventually married her, thus obliging the Scottish King to provide shelter and aid for Eadgar’s future incursions into England. In 1069, Eadgar was the titular head of a rebellion in Northumbria that achieved early success, and even wrested the city of York from the Normans. However, William came north with a vengeance and broke up the rebellion, bought off Eadgar’s Danish allies, and drove the Aetheling back to Scotland for protection.

Although Eadgar stayed in Scotland until 1072, William eventually forced the issue by invading Scotland and demanding the submission of Malcolm. Malcolm reluctantly complied, but one of the terms may well have been the expulsion of Eadgar, since the Aetheling crossed over to Flanders. He was back and forth for a couple of years, bringing trouble in his wake, until Malcolm finally persuaded the Aetheling to make his peace with William and give up any claim to the throne.

Although his tenure in England was anti-clamactic, Eadgar did gain a measure of respect on diplomatic missions between Malcolm and William’s heir, William Rufus. He befriended Robert Curthose, the Conqueror’s other son, went on Crusade, and lived into the reign of Henry I. It is thought that he lived until 1125, which would have put him at the ripe old age of 75.

Origin of Earl Godwine

June 17th, 2010 by Mercedes Rochelle | No Comments | Filed in Earl Godwine of Wessex

Earl Godwine is one of the delicious mysteries of the eleventh century. Having risen to one of Saxon England’s most powerful positions, as well as father to both a queen and a king, it is a wonder that his origins are so confused.

The most popular story is that he was a shepherd, or son of a ceorl, who discovered a Viking Earl wandering lost in the forest after a great battle. Earl Ulf offered him a gold ring as payment for escort back to his ship, but Godwine decided to forgo the reward and help the Viking as a favor, hoping to earn his fortune in the Earl’s service. Somewhere along the way he caught the attention of King Canute, who made use of him and eventually raised Godwine up as Earl of Wessex.

Although this story says a lot about Godwine’s abilities, usefulness, or persuasiveness, I can’t help but think it highly unlikely that Canute would notice him at all if he was only the son of a ceorl – much less raise him up to the highest rank in the land after king.

However, there is another explanation that makes more sense. In some early documents, it is said that Godwine’s father was named Wulfnoth Cild, who was a Thane in the service of King Aethelred the Unready. Wulfnoth had command of the Saxon Fleet, and in 1009 he was accused of some unspecified treason. Because of this, Wulfnoth deserted with 20 ships, and resorted to piracy on the Sussex coast. The king sent his uncle Bithric after him with the rest of the Saxon navy, but the ships foundered in a great storm and Wulfnoth finished them off by burning the fleet. The destruction of the King’s ships left the way open for that year’s Viking invasion, or, as some suggested, Wulfnoth joined the intruders as part of his revenge.

Either way, Wulfnoth was in disgrace. But could it be possible that King Canute raised up the son in recognition of the father’s aid? If Wulfnoth was a Thegn, then Godwine’s advancement would seem much less incredible. No one knows for sure.

Earl Siward of Northumbria and Malcolm

May 20th, 2010 by Mercedes Rochelle | 2 Comments | Filed in Malcolm Canmore

After Alfred the Great established the Danelaw north of Watling Street, the Norse transformed themselves from raiders of Britain into settlers of north Britain…mostly. As a result, the Viking chieftans ruled Northumbria for generations.

It is said that Siward might have come over with Canute, although others say his family had been in Britain for a few generations already. I like the Scandinavian legend that he was descended from a white bear and a lady. No wonder they called him “Siward the Strong”! Nonetheless, it is undisputed that Canute made him Earl of York sometime around 1031, and he ruled Northumbria until he died.

I have read that he was somehow related by marriage to Malcolm III, which made him either an uncle or cousin. When Macbeth killed Duncan and Prince Malcolm fled to England, it is believed he was taken in by Siward, who surely had it in his best interests to protect and nurture his future Royal neighbor. As events played out, Siward invaded Scotland on Malcolm’s behalf in 1054, and together they won a great battle at Dunsinane which sent Macbeth into exile and established Malcolm as King of Cumbria, for starters. Siward’s eldest son Osbeorn was killed in this battle.

Malcolm III became king of all Scotland after he eliminated both Macbeth and his stepson Lulach by the end of 1057. Alas, Siward did not live to see Malcolm’s victory. In 1055 he was stricken by dysentery, and as he lay on his sickbed, he bemoaned that after surviving so many battles he was forced to die like a cow. Siward insisted that he be dressed in his armor, put on a helmet and took to hand an axe and shield so he could at least die like a warrior. And so he passed from this world, leaving only a 10 year-old son Waltheof to survive him.

After the Norman Conquest, Malcolm was destined to meet Waltheof as a grown man and Earl of Northumbria, but was unable to return Siward’s favor and help Waltheof in his struggles against William the Conqueror. Poor Waltheof was the last of the so-called Anglo Saxon earls, and had the dubious distinction of being the only English aristocrat to be executed in William’s reign.

Macbeth & Thorfinn of Orkney

May 5th, 2010 by Mercedes Rochelle | 5 Comments | Filed in Macbeth

The relationship between Macbeth and Thorfinn Sigurdsson, Earl of Orkney is more than accidental. Thorfinn – known to historians as The Black – was grandson of King Malcolm II and may have been raised in Malcolm’s household. However, he quickly became enemies with Malcolm’s son Duncan I, who tried to claim the earldom of Caithness on his accession to the throne. Thorfinn bitterly contested Duncan’s claims, and met him in battle at least twice, defeating the King’s forces both times.

Macbeth had a claim to the throne through his wife Grouch, and it is thought that Thorfinn and Macbeth became allies against Duncan. Shortly after the King’s second defeat at Torfness, it is written that Duncan met Macbeth in battle at Pitgaveny on Aug. 15, 1040 and was killed on the battlefield. This is a far cry from being murdered in his bed!

It is possible that after Duncan’s death, Thorfinn and Macbeth managed Scotland jointly, for it is said that at the height of his power, Thorfinn ruled 9 northern earldoms. Historians have written that Macbeth and Thorfinn went to Rome on Pilgrimage together. Some actually believe they were the same person, although I think this is a stretch. Nonetheless, you can read a lively story to this effect in Dorothy Dunnett’s King Hereafter.

It’s possible that Earl Thorfinn Raven-feeder came to Macbeth’s aid during the battle of Dunsinane. He is said to have sailed up the Tay in support of Macbeth, and probably aided the King’s escape from the battle, leaving Malcolm III victor on the field. I write about this at length in my book, Thou Shalt ‘Get Kings.