M J Porter – Page 10

I’m sharing a post about the family of Ealdorman Leofwine, Saxon England and the position of ealdormen/earls #nonfiction #fiction #histfic

I’m sharing a post about the family of Ealdorman Leofwine, Saxon England and the position of ealdormen/earls #non-fiction #fiction #histfic

Who was Ealdorman Leofwine?

Ealdorman Leofwine , was the ealdorman of the Hwicce (c.994-1023), one of the ancient tribal regions in Mercia, which was a part of England, at the time the story begins. It is possible he may have been related to Ælfwine, who is named, and dies at the Battle of Maldon (more below).

Ealdorman Leofwine and his descendants, who would hold positions of power until the Norman Conquest of 1066, are a unique family in this tumultuous period. No other family, apart from the ruling family of Wessex (and even then there was a minor hiccup caused by those pesky Danish kings) held a position of such power and influence and for such a long period of time, as far as is currently known. The position of ealdorman was not hereditary. It was a position in the gift of the king, and Saxon kings ruled with a varying number of ealdormen. To understand Leofwine’s significance, it’s important to understand this. Unlike an earl – a term we are all perhaps far more familiar with – but specifically a medieval earl in this regard – that position was both more often than not hereditary AND meant that the person involved ‘owned’ significant properties in the area they were earls over. This is not how the ealdormanic system worked in Saxon England, as it’s currently understood.

It is difficult to track many of the ealdormanic families of this period, and the previous century, but there are a few notable individuals, all who bucked the usual trend, which no doubt accounts for why we know who they are.

Perhaps most well-known is Ealdorman Athelstan Half-King, who was the ealdorman of East Anglia from about 934 to 955/6 when he fell from favour at court during the reign of King Eadwig and retired to Glastonbury Abbey. Before he did so, he ensured that his son, Æthelwald, was elevated to the position of ealdorman in his place. This was most unusual, but then, he came from a powerful family, fiercely loyal to the ruling House of Wessex, if not actually a member of them. Athelstan Half-King is believed to have been the son of Ealdorman Æthelfrith, a Mercian ealdorman when Lady Æthelflæd was the Lady of Mercia. Athelstan was one of four brothers. His older brother seems to have either briefly retained the ealdordom after their father’s death in Mercia, or been accorded it a few years later, but when he died, Athelstan Half-King didn’t become ealdorman of Mercia in his place. No, he remained in East Anglia while his two brothers, Eahric and Æthelwald, held ealdordoms in Wessex (Eahric) and Kent (Æthelwald). They didn’t become the ealdorman of Mercia either. The ealdordom passed to a different individual.

When Ealdorman Æthelwald of the East Angles died a few short years later (Athelstan Half-King’s son), his place was taken by Ealdorman Æthelwine, the youngest of Athelstan Half-King’s children. But, the family failed to hold on to the position, despite Ealdorman Æthelwine being married three times, and fathering three sons, one of whom died at the battle of Assandun in 1016. The next to hold the ealdordom of the East Angles after the death of Æthelwine was Leofsige, who was the ealdorman until he fell foul of the king in 1002. In the early 1000s Ulfcytel emerges and may have been married to one of the king’s daughters, but is never officially accorded the title of ealdorman. You can read about Ealdorman Athelstan Half-King in The Brunanburh Series.

Another famous ealdorman was Byrhtnoth of Essex, who died at the Battle of Maldon in 991. But Byrhtnoth was not the son of the previous ealdorman, and indeed, he married the daughter of a very wealthy man and in turn was raised to an ealdordom in Essex at exactly the same time that Ealdorman Athelstan Half-King was being forced to retire from his position in East Anglia. (Byrhtnoth’s wife’s sister had briefly been married to King Edmund (939-946, before his murder). While there are some arguments that Byrhtnoth was from a well regarded family, his appointment was not because of an hereditary claim. It’s known that he was father to a daughter, but not to a son. As such his family did not retain the ealdordom on his death. Indeed, it seems as though Essex and the East Anglian earlordoms were united for a time under Leofsige.

The argument has been put forth that the position of ealdorman may have come with properties that were the king’s to gift to the individual to enable them to carry out their duties in a particular area. The Saxons had a number of types of land tenure, bookland, was land of which the ‘owners’ held the ‘book’ or ‘the title deed.’ (There are some wonderful charters where landed people had to ask for the king to reissue a charter as theirs was lost, often in a fire. There is a wonderful example where King Edgar has to reissue a charter for his grandmother, as he’d lost it while it was in his care). Other land tenure was ‘loan land,’ that is land that could be loaned out, often for a set number of ‘lives.’ Ealdormen might then have held bookland that was hereditary, and not in the area they were ealdorman of, and loan land that was in the king’s to gift to them within the area that they were the appointed ealdorman.

Many will be familiar with the family of Earl Godwine and his sons (thanks to the influence of the Danes, the term ealdorman was replaced by earl, which was the anglicised version of jarl). Much work has been done on the land that the Godwine family held when the great Domesday survey was undertaken during the reign of William the Conqueror. It will quickly become apparent that while they had areas where they held a great deal of land, these were not necessarily the areas over which first Godwin and then his sons Tostig, Harold, Gyrth, Leofwine and Sweyn held the position of earl. Most notably, Tostig was earl of Northumbria from 1055-1065, and yet the family had almost no landed possessions there.

And this is where we return to Ealdorman Leofwine and his family. While everyone knows about Earl Godwine and his sons, they didn’t hold their position for as long as Ealdorman Leofwine and his family. Earl Godwine is first named as an earl in charter S951 dated to 1018. By that period, Leofwine of the Twice had already held a position of importance since 994. The families of both men would converge as the events of 1066 drew nearer, and indeed, Godwine’s son, Harold, was married to Ealdorman Leofwine’s great-granddaughter when he was briefly king of England.

When Ealdorman Leofwine died, his son, Leofric, didn’t become ealdorman in his place. Leofric was a sheriff during the period between his father’s death and his own appointment. And indeed, Leofric’s son, Ælfgar was elevated to an earldom before his father’s death, and so was not initially the earl of Mercia. However, on this occasion, and because of a political situation that was rife with intrigue, Ælfgar did become the earl of Mercia after his father’s death, and after Ælfgar’s death, his young son also took the earldom of Mercia. The family survived the events of 1066, but they didn’t retain their hold on the earldom. The House of Leofwine were a family to not only rival that of Earl Godwine’s, as far as it’s known, but they were also the ONLY family to retain a position as an ealdorman/earl for over seventy years. And yet, very few know about them, and indeed, in many non-fiction books, they’re not even mentioned. And that was the perfect opportunity for me to write about the fabulous family, largely inspired by a non-fiction book, The Earls of Mercia: Lordship and Power in Late Anglo-Saxon England by Stephen Baxter.

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Who was Edmund, the man Cnut had to overwhelm to claim England’s kingship in the eleventh century?

Who was Edmund Ironside, son of Æthelred II?

It’s often forgotten, in the great swirl of events throughout the eleventh century, that England wasn’t conquered once, but instead three times, by King Swein in 1013, by his son in 1016, and then by William the Conqueror in 1066.

England only reclaimed its English king with the death of King Swein shortly after he claimed the kingship, when Æthelred II, the much-maligned, king of England was restored, it’s said, by his nobility, provided he did ‘a better job’ of it (I paraphrase). At this time, Cnut, Swein’s son, wasn’t deemed as suitable to replace his father, while Æthelred II had many sons who could succeed him. Æthelred was deemed ‘an old man’ by now (born probably in about 966-8), but he had surviving sons from his marriage to his first wife, named as Ælfgifu, and also from the better known Lady Emma. The oldest of these sons,Athelstan, died in 1014, having made a name for himself as an honourable man. His will survives. His next youngest brother had also perished a decade ago, meaning Edmund was the oldest surviving son. In the great swirl of events, people forget Edmund was proclaimed king on his father’s death in April 1016, and that he ruled for a good sixth months, before his own death in November.

See page for author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons, https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/69/Edmund_Ironside_-_MS_Royal_14_B_VI.jpg

The relationship between Edmund and his father is difficult to unpick. It doesn’t seem to have been congenial. Æthelred II is most often accused of having overmighty subjects (somewhat ironic when they invited him back to England after Swein’s death), and there was a particular thorny problem of Eadric Streona, married, it’s said, to one of Æthelred’s daughters, and a tricky character. Eadric is associated with Mercia. To counter his reach, Edmund, married into a Mercian family in 1015, the story being that he rescued the woman from captivity and then married her. As romantic as that might sound, this was sound political expediency. In the tenth century, King Athelstan was strongly associated with Mercia, being declared king of Mercia before becoming king of Wessex. Edgar, in the 950s, seems to have done something similar, being declared king of Mercia while his brother, Eadwig, was king of England, or perhaps only Wessex – there is much uncertainty about this. Eadwig would die young, allowing Edgar to build on his Mercian powerbase and claim England for himself.

As such, Edmund was following known precedent when he looked to Mercia for support when he must have feared that the eyes of the witan would favour his younger half-brother, Edward, for the kingship. No doubt, Edmund actually gained support because while England was at war with Cnut throughout 1016, he was a man grown and could fight for the English. Edward, much younger, would have been unable to do so.

And so to 1016. On the death of his father, Edmund was declared king, but Cnut also took the same title. Many battles later, Cnut and Edmund reached an accord, it’s said, after the English defeat at the unallocated battle of Assandun. England was ‘split,’ Edmund became king of Wessex, Cnut held the remainder and it could have possibly remained split if not for Edmund’s untimely death, perhaps from wounds taken in battle fighting against Cnut and his warriors, and in which, Eadric Streona had played his new king false, defecting to King Cnut’s side.

Edmund II, known as Ironside, left two children, perhaps twins, and these children were raised in exile, away from England and the reach of the Danish conquering force. They did still have a part to play in the future of England, and Edmund’s granddaughter became queen of Scotland in 1070, while his grandson was briefly declared king of England in the tumultuous events of 1066.

You can read the story of Cnut and Edmund in The Earls of Mercia series side story, Cnut: The Conqueror.

Here’s the blurb:

To gain what he wanted, what he felt he was owed, he would do anything, even if it meant breaking oaths to a woman he loved and the mother of his son.

Swein, King of Denmark, and briefly England, lies dead, his son ousted from England as King Æthelred returns from his exile in Normandy at the behest of his witan and the bishops. Æthelred might have relinquished his kingdom to Swein, the Danish conqueror, but with Swein dead, the men have no interest in supporting an untried youth whose name resounds with the murder of one of England’s greatest bishops. A youth known only for his savagery and joy of battle. A true Norseman who utilizes his weapons without thought.

But Cnut wants a kingdom and will do anything to gain one. As England’s ravaged by a civil war between the sons of two former kings, Edmund, son of King Æthelred, and Cnut, son of Swein, the men must make personal decisions in the heat of battle as they strive to reclaim their birthrights whilst doing all they can to stay alive.

books2read.com/Cnut

Cnut is a side story in the Earls of Mercia series, retelling the story of the last century of Saxon England through the eyes of the powerful Earls of Mercia, the only noble family, apart from the House of Wessex, to hold their position for nearly a century.

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I’m sharing a post about Britain in the Seventh Century, the setting for #PaganWarrior, the first book in the #GodsAndKings trilogy #histfic #PendaThePagan

Here’s the blurb

Britain. AD632.

Penda, a warrior of immense renown, has much to prove if he is to rule the Mercian kingdom of his dead father and prevent the neighbouring king of Northumbria from claiming it.

Unexpectedly allying with the British kings, Penda races to battle the alliance of the Northumbrian king, unsure if his brother stands with him or against him as they seek battle glory for themselves, and the right to rule gained through bloody conquest.

There will be a victor and a bloody loser, and a king will rise from the ashes of the great and terrible battle of Hædfeld.

books2read.com/PaganWarrior

Britain in the Seventh Century – a patchwork of kingdoms

One of the hardest processes when writing about this very early period of Britain is to get an idea of what the kingdoms might have looked like and to explain this to the reader. The seventh century is often seen as the period when the Heptarchy, the seven very well-known kingdoms of the Saxon period, emerged and formed, ultimately derived from potentially very many much smaller kingdoms, the names of which are only rarely still known.

The Heptarchy consisted of the kingdoms of Northumbria (itself derived from the uniting of Deira and Bernicia), Mercia, the kingdom of the East Angles, Wessex, Sussex, Kent, and Essex. In later centuries, these kingdoms would merge until only four main kingdoms remained, and then, from the early middle of the tenth century, England emerged. But the battle of Hædfeld with which Pagan Warrior concludes was a British-wide battle set as this process was formalising in the seventh century, and there are yet more kingdoms that must be mentioned which didn’t form part of Saxon England.

Scotland didn’t yet exist, but Dal Riata, Pictland and Alt Clut (sometimes called Strathclyde) did. Wales didn’t exist, although the kingdoms of Gwynedd, Deheubarth, Ceredigion and Powys did, The kingdom of Dumnonia (modern-day Cornwall), was also in existence and very much not part of Saxon England. Indeed, these kingdoms are often termed British, as opposed to Saxon. As someone woeful at geography – I purposefully don’t adopt the names of places from this period because it confuses me – I’m only too well aware of how much I’m asking from my reader as it is without adding weird place names to already strange sounding personal names, and yet it was necessary to add a whole host of strange names, which often, have no relation to the current names of counties, let alone kingdoms.

All of these different kingdoms, we’re told, were involved in some way in the battle of Hædfeld. Some of the kingdoms joined the alliance, spear-headed by Cadwallon of Gwynedd, Edwin’s foster-brother. Others joined that of Edwin of Northumbria. Almost all of them took one side or another in the mighty battle of Hædfeld fought in 632 or 633 (there is some confusion about the exact date) between the two sides. To ensure my readers have some idea of who’s who, I’ve termed all of the character’s as being ‘of’ their kingdom, although I’m unsure if that’s actually how they might have been named.

I was surprised by how many individuals could be named from the seventh century, particularly for the build-up to the battle of Hædfeld. The cast is not Game of Thrones huge, but it was larger than I expected. Not just Penda of the Hwicce, only later could he be termed of Mercia, and Cadwallon of Gwynedd in the British ‘alliance’, but also Cloten of Deheubarth, Clydog of Ceredigion, Eiludd of Powys, Clemen of Dumnonia, Domnall Brecc of Dal Riata, Beli of Alt Clut and Eanfrith of Bernicia. While on the Northumbrian led alliance were Edwin of Northumbria, alongside his children, Osfrith and Eadfrith, as well as Eowa of the Hwicce, Osric of Deira – Edwin’s cousin, Cynegils of Wessex, Sigeberht of the East Angles and Oswald of Bernicia – Edwin’s nephew. At least, that’s how I stack the two sides as the battle is about to commence. In later periods, it is sometimes a struggle to find who was king of where and when that might have been, so to find so many characters, even if it can seem a little overwhelming, was fantastic and ensured that the British-wide battle of Hædfeld could be retold in Pagan Warrior with a nod to each of these kings, and the part they might, or might not, have played in the events that played out on that fateful day in October 632 or 633.

Map of Britain in the 600s, User:Hel-hama, CC BY-SA 3.0 <http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/>, via Wikimedia Commons

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Who were the religious daughters of Edward the Elder?

The King’s Daughters is available with Kindle Unlimited, and is a novel of the many daughters of Edward the Elder who married into the ruling families in East and West Frankia, or who became holy women, or lived within a nunnery.

So, who were these daughters?

Edward the Elder was married three times, to an unknown woman- who was the mother of the future King Athelstan, to Lady Ælfflæd – who was the mother of the future, and short-lived King Ælfweard, and finally to Lady Eadgifu – who was the mother of the future kings Edmund and Eadred. But, while each woman was mother to a future kings, this story focuses on the daughters. And there were a lot of them, and their lives were either spent in making prestigious marriages, or as veiled women – whether professed religious, or merely lay women living in a nunnery or an isolated estate.

The story of The King’s Daughters is very much about the daughters of Edward and his second wife, and the marriages they made in Continental Europe, into the powerful families in East and West Frankia. And I’ve written a lengthy post about them which you can find here. But there were other daughters/sisters, and while their lives might be almost lost to us, it is interesting to discover what little is known of them.

Edith/Eadgyth/Ecgwynn/unnamed daughter of Edward the Elder, and his unnamed first wife (Ecgwynn?) c.890s–937?

m. Sihtric, king of York in 925, repudiated by 927 when Sihtric died

Edith^[i] is believed to be the biological sister of the future King Athelstan, and, therefore, the daughter of King Edward and his first wife, possibly named Ecgwynn. Edith is unnamed in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, but her marriage is mentioned in both the D and the C texts.

The C text records that in 924, ‘Athelstan was chosen as king by the Mercians, and consecrated at Kingston, and he gave his sister.’^[ii] And here the text, rather enigmatically, comes to a halt until 954.

The D text, is rather more helpful, under 925 stating that, ‘Here Athelstan and Sihtric, king of Northumbria, assembled at Tamworth on 30th January, and Athelstan gave him his sister.’^[iii]

This, therefore, refers to the union between Athelstan’s sister and Sihtric, a Norse king of Jorvik or York. The union is intriguing. It does seem to be the only occasion that a marriage union was enacted between the Viking raiders and the Wessex royal family.

There is the suggestion that Edith may have become a nun on her return to Mercia. She is associated with the nunnery at Polesworth by traditions recorded at Bury in the twelfth century. Following the death of her husband, she is said to have returned to Mercia and ‘founded a nunnery at Polesworth, near the Mercian royal centre at Tamworth. There she remained a virgin, practising fastings and vigils, offering prayers and alms to the end of her life, and dying on July 15.’^[iv]

However, Thacker goes on to state that, ‘it must be admitted that it [the cult] was not a very successful one. Her feast day (15 July) occurs in only three relatively late (i.e. post-Conquest) calendars, and it is impossible to identify her in any of the surviving Anglo-Saxon litanies.’^[v]

^[i] Edith may be Anonymous (594) or Eadgyth (12) on PASE, in which case her death was c.937

^[ii] Swanton, M. ed. and trans. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000), p.105

^[iii] Ibid., p.105

^[iv] Thacker, A. ‘Dynastic Monasteries and Family Cults’, in Edward the Elder, 899–924, ed. Higham & Hill (Routledge, 2001), p.257

^[v] Thacker, A. ‘Dynastic Monasteries and Family Cults’, in Edward the Elder, 899–924, ed. Higham & Hill (Routledge, 2001), p.258

Æthelhild, daughter of Edward the Elder, and his second wife, Lady Ælfflæd

The birth order of Edward the Elder’s children is unknown. Therefore, we do not know why Æthelhild^[i] became a lay sister at Wilton Abbey. Could it be because it was her choice, her father’s, or mother’s, or that of her half-brother, Athelstan?

Wilton Abbey was strongly associated with the Wessex royal family. Her sister Eadflæd became a nun, and the two sisters were joined, not only by their mother but also by their much younger half-sister, Eadburh. Nothing further is known of Æthelhild. She’s not mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, or in any of the surviving charter evidence. We don’t know her date of birth, or her date of death.

William of Malmesbury’s Gesta Regum Anglorum tells us more.

He also had by the same wife six daughters; Eadflæd, Eadgifu, Æthelhild, Eadhild, Eadgyth, Ælfgifu. The first and third took a vow of virginity and spurned the pleasures of earthly marriage, Eadflæd took the veil and Æthelhild in lay attire; both lie at Wilton, buried next to their mother. Eadburh became a nun and lies at Winchester; Eadgifu was a famous beauty, and was given in marriage by her brother Æthelstan to Louis prince of Aquitaine.^[i]

^[i] Mynors, R.A.B. ed. and trans. completed by Thomson, R.M. and Winterbottom, M. Gesta Regvm Anglorvm, The History of the English Kings, William of Malmesbury, (Clarendon Press, 1998) p.199–201

Eadflæd, daughter of Edward the Elder, and his second wife, Lady Ælfflæd

Eadflæd^[iii] became a nun at Wilton Abbey. And she is named in a charter issued by Athelstan (S438, surviving in one manuscript) granting land to St Mary’s, Wilton dated 937, the year of the battle of Brunanburh. Provided the dating is secure, and the charter is authentic, this points to Eadflæd still being alive at this date. The absence of her sister’s name, Æthelhild, may mean she had predeceased her sister. Note should be made here of the distinction between the two types of religious women. It is believed that there were lay sisters and also those who wore the veil. Both could have been attached to a nunnery, although, aside from the Nunnaminster, no religious establishment is specifically termed as a monastery for women.

Eadburh, c.919–952 daughter of Edward the Elder and his third wife, Eadgifu

William of Malmesbury in his Gesta Pontificum Anglorum tells the story of Edward the Elder’s youngest daughter, Eadburh,^[v] being consigned to the Nunnaminster in infancy as she showed such signs of devotion:^[vi]

There had been a convent on this spot before, in which Eadburg [Eadburh], daughter of king Edward the Elder, had lived and died, but by then it was almost in ruins. When she was barely three, Eadburg had given a remarkable proof of her future holiness. Her father had wanted to find out whether his little girl would turn towards God or the world. He set out in the dining room the adornments of the different ways of life, on this side a chalice and the Gospels, on the other bangles and necklaces. The little girl was brought in by the nurse and sat on her father’s knees. He told her to choose which she wanted. With a fierce look she spat out the things of the world, and immediately crawling on hands and knees towards the Gospels and chalice adored them in girlish innocence … Her father honoured his offspring with more restrained kisses and said, ‘Go where heaven calls you, follow the bridegroom you have chosen and a blessing be upon your going.’ … Countless miracles during her life and after her death bear witness to the devotion of her heart and the integrity of her body.^[vii]

William later adds that ‘Some of the bones of Eadburg the happy are buried’,^[viii] at Pershore.

Aside from the later William of Malmesbury, Eadburh is the recipient to land in one charter, that of S446, dated to 939 and surviving in one manuscript. ‘King Athelstan to Eadburh, his sister; grant of 17 hides (mansae) at Droxford, Hants.’^[ix] Perhaps, Athelstan was ensuring his sister’s future with this charter. Maybe he knew he was dying. Perhaps this was a means of guaranteeing the survival of the religious establishment in which she lived.

^[i] I can find no reference to Æthelhild on PASE

^[ii] Mynors, R.A.B. ed. and trans. completed by Thomson, R.M. and Winterbottom, M. Gesta Regvm Anglorvm, The History of the English Kings, William of Malmesbury, (Clarendon Press, 1998), pp.199–201

^[iii] PASE Eadflæd (4)

^[iv] Mynors, R.A.B. ed. and trans. completed by Thomson, R.M. and Winterbottom, M. Gesta Regvm Anglorvm, The History of the English Kings, William of Malmesbury, (Clarendon Press, 1998), pp.199–201

^[v] Believed to be Eadburgh (8) on PASE

^[vi] Foot, S. Athelstan (Yale University Press, 2011), p.45 Priest, D. trans. Gesta Pontificum Anglorum, The Deeds of the Bishops of England, (The Boydell Press, 2002)

^[vii] Priest, D. trans. Gesta Pontificum Anglorum, The Deeds of the Bishops of England, (The Boydell Press, 2002), pp115–16

^[viii] Ibid., p.202

^[ix] Sawyer, P.H. (ed.), Anglo-Saxon charters: An annotated list and bibliography, rev. Kelly, S.E., Rushforth, R., (2022). http://www.esawyer.org.uk/ S446

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You can read about the many daughters of Edward the Elder in The King’s Daughter.

My first non-fiction title, The Royal Women Who Made England, is also now available in ebook and hardback and features these women and what we know about them.

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On this day in history, the Battle of Winwæd in 655 between the Mercians and the Northumbrians

The Battle of Winwæd, fought on 15th November 655, is the backdrop for the final book in the Gods and Kings trilogy, which follows three very famous battles, Hædfeld in 632/3, Maserfield in 642 and Winwæd in 655, only one of the battles being fought in the summer – which always surprises me. These three pitched battles saw Mercia and Northumbria vying for supremacy over the Saxon kingdoms of Britain, a narrative that has been interpreted as leading to Northumbria’s triumph, and indeed, its Golden Age.

But much of what happened from Hæ∂feld to Winwæd was a matter of family politics, muddled by the many marriages these kings may have made, and the horde of children they fathered who had opinions and aspirations of their own. Just as the War of the Roses many centuries later, this was a time when family loyalty meant little or nothing to some people, and everything to others.

The Mercian king, Penda, most famously known for being a pagan when the Saxon kingdoms were being converted to Christianity, achieved a great deal throughout his lifetime, regardless of the debate about how long he reigned for and when he can officially be known as King of Mercia, and he is the constant throughout these three battles. The bias of Bede, our main source for this period (even though he wrote in the following century) and his famous list of bretwaldas (wide-rulers) ignores Penda. In doing so people cast their eyes only on events in Northumbria, seeing Penda in the same light as Bede would have us do, as a pagan who continually thwarted the advances of the Christian doctrine either from the north (Celtic Christianity) or the south (Roman Christianity). In fact, Penda could reasonably be said to have achieved far more than the Northumbrian kings, Edwin, Oswald or Oswiu ever did – the men he battled against at Hædfeld, Maserfeld and Winwæd. It’s a great pity that he met his death in the way he did, allowing Bede to skewer his narrative even further, to make Oswiu, the Christian, the victor over Penda the pagan.

History can be cruel.

Yet recent historians cast Penda in a more complimentary light. D.P. Kirby calls him ‘without question the most powerful Mercian ruler so far to have emerged in the Midlands.’ Frank Stenton has gone further, ‘the most formidable king in England.’ Whilst N J Higham accords him ‘a pre-eminent reputation as a god-protected, warrior king.’ These aren’t hastily given words from men who’ve studied Saxon England to a much greater degree than I have.

The wording of Bede is vague when detailing this third and final battle of Penda’s against the Northumbrians. Bede could speak directly when he wanted to, or so it seems, but for some events, he applied a little haze of Northumbrian drizzle to obscure the facts, but on the fact that more men died in the flood waters than on the battlefield, he is clear.

Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People

http://legacy.fordham.edu/halsall/basis/bede-book2.asp

CHAPTER XXIV
KING PENDA BEING SLAIN, THE MERCIANS RECEIVED THE FAITH OF CHRIST, AND OSWY GAVE POSSESSIONS AND TERRITORIES TO GOD, FOR BUILDING MONASTERIES, IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT FOR THE VICTORY OBTAINED. [A.D. 655.]
AT this time, King Oswy was exposed to the fierce and intolerable irruptions of Penda, king of the Mercians, whom we have so often mentioned, and who had slain his brother; …….After this he gave battle with a very small army against superior forces: indeed, it is reported that the pagans had three times the number of men; for they had thirty legions, led on by most noted commanders. King Oswy and his son Aifrid met them with a very small army, as has been said, but confiding in the conduct of Christ; his other son, Egfrid, was then kept an hostage at the court of Queen Cynwise, in the province of the Mercians. King Oswald’s son Etheiwald, who ought to have assisted them, was on the enemy’s side, and led them on to fight against his country and uncle; though, during the battle, he withdrew, and awaited the event in a place of safety. The engagement beginning, the pagans were defeated, the thirty commanders, and those who had come to his assistance were put to flight, and almost all of them slain; among whom was Ethelbere, brother and successor to Anna, king of the East Angles, who had been the occasion of the war, and who was now killed, with all his soldiers. The battle was fought near the river Vinwed, which then, with the great rains, had not only filled its channel, hut overflowed its banks, so that many more were drowned in the flight than destroyed by the sword.

This narrative is largely copied in the other surviving sources, all much later than the events they describe.

Historia Brittonum

http://legacy.fordham.edu/halsall/basis/nennius-full.asp

Penda, son of Pybba, reigned ten years; he first separated the kingdom of Mercia from that of the North-men, and slew by treachery Anna, king of the East Anglians, and St. Oswald, king of the North-men. He fought the battle of Cocboy, in which fell Eawa, son of Pybba, his brother, king of the Mercians, and Oswald, king of the North-men, and he gained the victory by diabolical agency. He was not baptized, and never believed in God.

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (first written from the late 890s).

A.D. 655. This year Penda was slain at Wingfield, and thirty royal personages with him, some of whom were kings. One of them was Ethelhere, brother of Anna, king of the East-Angles. The Mercians after this became Christians. From the beginning of the world had now elapsed five thousand eight hundred and fifty winters, when Paeda, the son of Penda, assumed the government of the Mercians.

You can read ‘my’ interpretation of the Battle of Winwæd in Warrior King, and you can also allow the fabulous Matt Coles to narrate it for you. Check out The Gods and Kings Trilogy page for more information.

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I thought I’d share some of my frustrations with writing about the lives of the ‘lost women’ of the tenth century.

The Tenth Century in Saxon England is often seen as heralding the triumph of Wessex to form England and to drive the Viking raiders far from England’s shores. That is both right and wrong, but it does mean that the names of the kings of the House of Wessex are well-known (comparatively speaking). The same can’t be said for the women who were wives, daughters and mothers of these kings. We can debate why this is but it doesn’t solve the problem of who these women were. For some of them, we don’t even know their names. We don’t know the name of King Athelstan’s mother, which astounds me. Equally, some of his half-sisters are quickly ‘lost’ in Continental Europe. Much of this is because they didn’t create huge dynasties to revere them after their death (apart from perhaps Eadgyth, who married Otto of the East Franks and whose sudden death deeply affected her husband). Of course, this problem is also compounded by the few surviving contemporary records.

Even those sources which do survive are not easy to access. Language barriers are a huge problem. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles have been studied and translated into easily accessible volumes, but alas, only Ealhswith, wife of King Alfred, Æthelflæd of Mercia, her daughter Ælfwynn, and two unnamed sisters of Athelstan are actually mentioned in the ASC. We can find more names in Æthelweard’s Latin translation of the ASC known as the Chronicon but it is still not an exhaustive list of his own relatives. Æthelweard claimed descent from King Alfred’s brother, Æthelred I.

This situation doesn’t just apply to the tenth-century. The online resource, The Prosopography of Anglo-Saxon England (PASE), has a database of 33,981 male names listed for the entire period of Saxon England. Only 1460 female names are listed. As such, we know much more about the male members of Saxon England, than we do the females.

And, these women have received very little study. While there are academic books about the much better known eleventh-century queens, Emma of Normandy and Edith, the wife of Edward the Confessor, it’s not been possible to pick up a single title and learn about these lost women, aside from Elizabeth Norton’s monograph on Lady Elfrdia.

To begin with, I wished to fictionalise the life of Lady Elfrida, wife of King Edgar, thanks to the work by Elizabeth Norton. I then turned my mind to other women of the tenth century and, indeed, even to Lady Estrid, the sister of King Cnut. Time and again, I found that so little information had survived, the majority of it only a reference in relation to male members of the family, that much of their lives had to be reconstructed based on what is documented as happening at the time. There was certainly no tangible way to connect with these women, other than a possible surviving piece of embroidery which might have been stitched by King Edward the Elder’s second wife, and if not by her hand, then at her command, and which was found inside the tomb of St Cuthbert when it was opened in the early nineteenth century (1827).

I can’t help feeling this is how Æthelweard felt when he wrote his Chronicon. The passage of time has not made it any easier to uncover the names of the women, let alone their personalities.

https://amzn.to/421prHt

I have now written a non-fiction account of this period, and it is now available from Pen and Sword books – The Royal Women Who Made England. I hope, alongside the fictionalised accounts of their lives, that this will inspire more interest in them.

The Royal Women Who Made England cover image.

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I’m reading the beginning of A Conspiracy of Kings #LadyÆlfwynn

I’m reading the beginning from A Conspiracy of Kings. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy listening below. Just click on the image. This does contain spoilers if you’ve not yet read book 1, The Lady of Mercia’s Daughter.

Find out who the historical Ælfwynn was here.

Buy A Conspiracy of Kings here.

(Also available with Kindle Unlimited.)

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Who was the Lady of Mercia, Æthelflæd? #non-fiction #Mercia

Who was Lady Æthelflæd, and what do we know about her from the contemporary sources?

Æthelflæd,^[i] said to be the oldest of the children of King Alfred, and his wife, Lady Eahlswith, was born around 866, the exact details are unknown, although the date of her death is well attested as 12 June 918.^[ii]

She was married to Lord Æthelred of the Mercians at some point during the 880s, although an exact date cannot be given. The first mention of this union occurs in a charter dated to 887,^[iii] although the date may not be reliable. There is also little information about who Lord Æthelred might have been, and his subsequent military successes should not be dismissed, as they often are. Lord Æthelred is assumed to have been a nobleman from Mercia, and one with enough of a reputation to secure the marriage alliance with the Wessex royal family (and it must be assumed, unrelated to her mother’s birth family, and also her father’s family through his sister’s union to Burgred).

Their marriage was a success, and yet there was only one child, a daughter, Ælfwynn, born to the union, perhaps quite soon after the marriage occurred.

During her lifetime, Æthelflæd’s name appears on fifteen surviving charters. These are a real collection, some promulgated by her father, her brother, her husband and then, in her name alone. The earliest to feature her name is S223 dated to 884×9, so between 884 and 889, which survives in two manuscripts, and discussed the building of the burh at Worcester. In her final charters, she’s the sole promulgator, her husband no doubt having already died. It is believed he died in 911. S224 and S225 date to 914 and 915. S225 names Æthelflæd as the ruler of Mercia, something which The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle mirrors in some versions.

In 912, the C text records, ‘Here, on the eve of the Invention of the Holy Cross, Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians came to Scergeat and built a stronghold there, and the same year, that at Bridgnorth.’^[xxvii]

In 913, the C text further records, ‘Here, God helping, Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians, went with all the Mercians to Tamworth, and then built the stronghold there early in the summer, and afterwards before Lammas that at Stafford.’^[xxviii]

In 917, the C text writes, ‘Here, before Lammas, God helping, Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians took possession of the stronghold which is called Derby, together with all that belonged to it.’^[xxxi]

Æthelflæd’s death is recorded in the A and C editions of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and also in the E version of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, even if only in passing. ‘Here Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians, passed away.’^[xxxii]

A text states: ‘and then when he (Edward) was settled in the seat there, his sister Æthelflæd at Tamworth, died 12 days before midsummer … and all the nation of the land of Mercia which was earlier subject to Æthelflæd turned to him.’

The C text of 918 offers:

Here in the early part of this year, with God’s help, she [Æthelflæd] peaceably got in her control the stronghold at Leicester and the most part of the raiding-armies that belonged to it were subjected. And also the York-folk had promised her – and some of them granted so by pledge, some confirmed with oaths – that they would be at her disposition. But very quickly after they had done that, she departed, twelve days before midsummer, inside Tamworth, the eighth year that she held control of Mercia, with rightful lordship; and her body lies inside Gloucester in the east side-chapel of St Peter’s Church.^[xxxiii]

It seems highly probable that Æthelflæd’s death, when it came, was unexpected, occurring in the middle of an advance into the Danelaw and the Five Boroughs (Derby, Nottingham, Lincoln, Stamford, Leicester). It was left to her daughter, and also her brother, to continue her work, and you can read their story in The Lady of Mercia’s Daughter and A Conspiracy of Kings.

Or you can read about the historical women in my non-fiction title, The Royal Women Who Made England.

You can can read all about her daughter, the historical Ælfwynn here.

https://amzn.to/3JnZoDC

^[i] PASE Æthelflæd (4)

^[ii] Swanton, M. ed. and trans. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000), AD 918

^[iii] S217, surviving in two manuscripts

^[xviii] Baker, N. and Holt, R. ‘The city of Worcester in the tenth century’, in St Oswald of Worcester: Life and InfluenceBrooks, N. and Cubitt, C. ed, (Leicester University Press, 1996), pp.134–5

^[xix] Sawyer, P.H. (ed.), Anglo-Saxon charters: An annotated list and bibliography, rev. Kelly, S.E., Rushforth, R., (2022). http://www.esawyer.org.uk/, S1446

^[xxi] Sawyer, P.H. (ed.), Anglo-Saxon charters: An annotated list and bibliography, rev. Kelly, S.E., Rushforth, R., (2022). http://www.esawyer.org.uk/, S1282

^[xxii] Hart, C.R. The Early Charters of Northern England and the North Midlands (Leicester University Press, 1975), p.102 (100)

^[xxvi] Swanton, M. ed. and trans. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000) Ibid., p.94

^[xxvii] Ibid., p.96

^[xxviii] Ibid., p.96

^[xxix] Ibid., p.97

^[xxx] Ibid., p.100

^[xxxi] Ibid., p.101

^[xxxii] Ibid., p.103

^[xxxiii] Ibid., p.105

^[xxxv] See Stafford, P. After Alfred. Anglo-Saxon Chronicles and Chroniclers 900–1150, (Oxford University Press, 2020), for a full discussion of the Æthelflæd and Edward Chronicles.

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#TheLastKing, the first book in The Mercian Ninth Century, #excerpt

Here’s the blurb

They sent three hundred warriors to kill one man. It wasn’t enough.

Mercia lies broken but not beaten, her alliance with Wessex in tatters. Coelwulf, a fierce and bloody warrior, hears whispers that Mercia has been betrayed from his home in the west. He fears no man, especially not the Vikings sent to hunt him down.

To discover the truth of the rumours he hears, Coelwulf must travel to the heart of Mercia, and what he finds there will determine the fate of Mercia, as well as his own.

Here’s an excerpt

AD874

I taste it on my lips, and over the salt of my sweat.

And I scowl. It’s not a flavour I wish to get used to. All the same, I know what it is without a second thought.

My seax glistens slickly in the dull light, the gleaming claret reminding me more of an exotic wine from the south than the lifeblood it truly is. The double headed-eagle impeccably depicted on the handle seems to wink at me, as the eyes fill with the ruby mixture.

Not that I focus on it for more than the time it takes me to blink.

This horde feels as though it’ll never stop, and I’m determined to end the lives of as many of them as possible. Such slaughter doesn’t bring me joy, but this is my skill. I wield it because I must.

My weapon, so sharp it cuts through byrnies as though they’re no more than spider webs, is busy today.

They come against my force, as small as it is, and they mean to annihilate us. But we will not go without making our sacrifices to their god of war.

My seax sweeps effortlessly along the abruptly exposed throat of my enemy, the realisation of what’s befallen him only reaching his eyes as he falls to the ground. I step over him, already sighting my next enemy.

This one swirls an axe in his left hand, as I reveal my bloodied teeth. His entire body recoils, almost a backward step. Before he can consider his move, I’ve sliced through his belly, the gut threatening to spill at my feet. I dismiss him and move onto the next man.

The ground beneath my feet squelches with each step, slick, more like a flooded river than the solid ground it should be.

It’s awash with the dead and wounded, the long shield wall that tried to defeat us long since disintegrated to small spots of desperate one to one fighting. This is my favourite part of any battle.

I turn, noting the angle of the sun, the brush of the breeze against my slick body, breathing deeply through my nose. This is not my first battle. Far from it.

I hear the cries of those boys who thought themselves men, and equally of those men who’ve found they are but boys when their lives are threatened.

I scorn them. They’re not worthy of my attention.

Quickly, I reach for my weapons belt, keen to know that all is where it should be. My hand brushes over the sharpened edges and deadly blades that make a home there. For now.

Satisfied, I pick my next target, a tight knot of men fighting not five steps away, and move forward.

I don’t hurry. Not this time. Neither, as I’ve seen others do, do I check the weight of my weapon, or test the strength of my arm as I consider my next move. Instinctively I know that all is well.

They’ll not fail me. They haven’t before.

If you’ve not yet discovered The Mercian Kingdom: The Ninth Century series, then you’ve in for a treat, as long as you’re not easily offended by foul language and violence – and if you are, there are Cleaner versions available on Amazon Kindle.

If you’ve been reading the Icel books, then you will find a friend in this series, set in the 870s in a Mercia under assault by the Viking raiders.

And don’t forget to check out the short story collection, Coelwulf’s Company, tales from before The Last King.

The Last King books are available in ebook, paperback and hardback, and The Last King (book 1 ) is also available in audio.

Check out all the details for The Mercian Kingdom: The Ninth Century.

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On this day in history (nearly), the death of Athelstan, the King of the English.

On the 27th October 939, the death of Athelstan, the first king of the English, at Gloucester. The symmetry of the death of King Athelstan and King Alfred, his grandfather, is noted in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle A text, ‘40 years all but a day after King Alfred passed away’.^[i]

^[i] Swanton, M. ed. and trans. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000), p.110

We don’t know for sure who Athelstan’s mother was, it’s believed she might have been called Ecgwynn. We don’t know, for certain, the name of his full sister, but it’s believed she might have been named Edith or Ecgwynn after her mother. What is known is that his father was Edward, the son of King Alfred, and known to us today as Edward the Elder. Athelstan is rare in that he is one of only two Saxon kings for whom a contemporary image is available. (The other is Edgar, who would have been his nephew)

It must be supposed that Athelstan was born sometime in the late 890s. And according to a later source written by William of Malmesbury in the 1100s (so over two hundred years later), was raised at the court of his aunt, Æthelflæd of Mercia. David Dumville has questioned the truth of this, but to many, this has simply become accepted as fact.

‘he [Alfred] arranged for the boy’s education at the court of his daughter, Æthelflæd and Æthelred his son in law, where he was brought up with great care by his aunt and the eminent ealdorman for the throne that seemed to await him.’^[i]

^[i] Mynors, R.A.B. ed and trans, completed by Thomson, R.M. and Winterbottom, M. Gesta Regvm Anglorvm, The History of the English Kings, William of Malmesbury, (Clarendon Press, 1998), p.211 Book II.133

Why then might this have happened? Edward became king on the death of his father, Alfred, and either remarried at that time, or just before. Edward’s second wife (if indeed, he was actually married to Athelstan’s mother, which again, some doubt), Lady Ælfflæd is believed to have been the daughter of an ealdorman and produced a hefty number of children for Edward. Perhaps then, Athelstan and his unnamed sister, were an unwelcome reminder of the king’s first wife, or perhaps, as has been suggested, Alfred intended for Athelstan to succeed in Mercia after the death of Æthelflæd, and her husband, Æthelred, for that union produced one child, a daughter named Ælfwynn.

Frontispiece of Bede’s *Life of St Cuthbert*, showing King Æthelstan (924–39) presenting a copy of the book to the saint himself. 29.2 x 20cm (11 1/2 x 7 7/8″). Originally from MS 183, f.1v at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. (Wikimedia Commons)

What is known is that following the death of King Edward in 924, Athelstan was acknowledged as the king of Mercia; his half-brother, Ælfweard was proclaimed king in Wessex for a very short period.

‘Here King Edward died at Farndon in Mercia; and very soon, 16 days after, his son Ælfweard died at Oxford; and their bodies lie at Winchester. And Athelstan was chosen as king by the Mercians and consecrated at Kingston.’^[i]

^[i] Swanton, M. trans and edit The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000), D text p.105

But Ælfweard’s reign was short-lived and Athelstan was eventually proclaimed king of Wessex, as well as Mercia, and then, in time, as the king of the English, although his acceptance by the Wessex witan has been seen as very grudgingly given.

Whatever the exact details of the beginning of his kingship, Athelstan was consecrated in September 925, and the words of the ceremony are believed to survive (there is an argument as to whether the ceremony was written for his father or for him), and during the ceremony Athelstan was proclaimed as king not with the placement of a warrior helm on his head, but instead, with a crown, the first known occurrence of this in England.

Here’s my reimagining of the ceremony in King of Kings,

Athelstan, Kingston upon Thames, September AD925

‘This means that only a year after my father’s untimely death, the kingdoms of Mercia, those parts of the East Anglian kingdom that my father lately reclaimed, Wessex and Kent, are reunited again under one ruler. The Saxons, or rather, the English, have just one king. And this is my moment of divine glory, when, before the men and women of the Mercian and Wessex witan, I’ll be proclaimed as king over all.

A prayer is intoned by the archbishop of Canterbury, Athelm, appealing to God to endow me with the qualities of the Old Testament kings: Abraham, Moses, Joshua, David and Solomon. As such, I must be faithful, meek, and full of fortitude and humility while also possessing wisdom. I hope I’ll live up to these lofty expectations.

I’m anointed with the holy oil and then given a thick gold ring with a flashing ruby to prove that I accept my role as protector of the one true faith. A finely balanced sword is placed in my hands, the work of a master blacksmith, with which I’m to defend widows and orphans and through which I can restore things left desolated by my foes, and my foes are the Norse.

Further, I’m given a golden sceptre, fashioned from gold as mellow as the sunset, with which to protect the Holy Church, and a silver rod to help me understand how to soothe the righteous and terrify the reprobate, help any who stray from the Church’s teachings and welcome back any who have fallen outside the laws of the Church.

With each item added to my person, I feel the weight of kingship settle on me more fully. I may have been the king of Mercia for over a year now, the king of Wessex and Kent for slightly less time, but this is the confirmation of all I’ve done before and all I’ll be in the future.

It’s a responsibility I’m gratified to take, but a responsibility all the same. From this day forward, every decision I make, no matter how trivial, will impact someone I now rule over.

*******

And I? I’m the king, as my archbishop, Athelm of Canterbury, proclaims to rousing cheers from all within the heavily decorated church at Kingston upon Thames, a place just inside the boundaries of Wessex but not far from Mercia. It’s festooned with bright flowers and all the wealth this church owns. Gold and silver glitter from every recess, reflecting the glow of the hundreds of candles.

I’m more than my father, Edward, was and I’m more than my grandfather, Alfred, was. I’m the king of a people, not a petty kingdom, or two petty kingdoms, with Kent and the kingdom of the East Angles attached.

It’s done. I’m the anointed king of the English, the first to own such a title. I’ll protect my united kingdom, and with God’s wishes, I’ll extend its boundaries yet further, clawing back the land from the Five Boroughs and bringing the kingdom of the Northumbrians, and even the independent realm of Bamburgh, under my command.’

And Athelstan’s life is one of vast events. His reach extended far beyond the confines of England, or even the British Isles, his step-sisters making political unions in East and West Frankia, and his nephew becoming king of the West Franks. But he is perhaps best known for his victory at Brunanburh, over a coalition of the Scots and the Dublin Norse, and it is the tale of this great battle, and the events both before and afterwards, that I retell in the Brunanburh Series.

His death, on 27th October 939, can arguably be stated to have reset the gains made after Brunanburh, and set the creation of ‘England’ back, as his much younger step-brother battled to hold onto his brother’s gains, but for now, it is Athelstan and his triumphs which much be remembered, and not what happened after his untimely death.