King Edgar and his Earls: A Brief Overview

Ahead of an in-depth look at government in the reigns of King Edgar and his son, Æthelred the 'Unready', here's a brief overview of tenth-century politics:

In 937 King Athelstan was declared king of not only England but of the Scots and Irish too. For whatever reason - and there's been surprisingly little conjecture about this - he never married. It is usually suggested that he agreed not to marry so that the throne would pass to his half-brothers. Upon his death the throne passed very quickly to those two brothers and then, in 955, to his young nephew Eadwig who reigned for only four years and was succeeded by his brother, Edgar 'the peaceable'.

Athelstan's half-brother Eadred had subdued the Viking kingdom of York, chasing Erik Bloodaxe to his death atop Stainmore, and Edgar was able to rule a kingdom which was free from Viking attack and, ostensibly, united.

But Edgar's succession had only been possible by initially splitting the kingdom, with the old kingdom of Mercia allying itself to him against his brother in Wessex. Nature abhors a vacuum; so too, it seems, does human nature. Anglo-Saxon history now becomes one not of warring kingdoms and marauding invaders, but in-fighting, back-stabbing, and courtly intrigue.

Putting aside the unfortunate but very timely (for some) death of Eadwig at the age of just 19, Edgar's court soon filled up with men seeking favour, power, wealth and influence. Edgar was young - 14 or 15 - and seemingly pious; one of the first acts of his reign was to recall the exiled abbot, Dunstan, who had been banished by Eadwig. The story famously goes that Dunstan caught Eadwig frolicking in bed on his coronation day with his wife and her mother. It wasn't long before Dunstan became bishop of Worcester - he eventually became archbishop of Canterbury - and Edgar supported him and the bishops  Æthelwold and Oswald in their reform of the monasteries as they attempted to establish uniform adherence to the Rule of St Benedict. 

The old kingdoms had transmuted into earldoms and the earls of Mercia, East Anglia and Northumbria became the first 'over-mighty barons'. The old kingdoms might have vanished but tribal sensibilities and border disputes had not (the Mercians, particularly, had rallied behind a nationalist flag when they rose up in support of Edgar).

The Churchmen had the chroniclers on their side, but there is some evidence which points to their feathering their own nests, taking land unlawfully, and there is an account of Archbishop Oswald feasting royally in his abbey at Ramsey while outside, folk starved, unable to pay the food rents owed to the Church.

Ramsey Abbey Gatehouse - David Deardon
(nothing remains of the Anglo-Saxon abbey). Attribution

The earls of East Anglia were members of what amounted to a dynasty, descended from a man whose epithet "Half-king" tells all we need to know about his power.

The earl of Mercia, Ælfhere, was a minor member of the royal family and equally well-connected. Notoriously tempestuous, he took exception to the bishop of Worcester's increasingly frequent attempts to establish centres of power and authority within his earldom. That same bishop, Oswald, also illegally held in duality the archbishopric of York, and thus trod on the toes of the earl of Northumbria, too. That earl, Oslac, was banished in 975, although we are not told why.

Bickering was kept to a minimum by Edgar. Strong, cocksure, he played the factions against one another and inspired devotion from them all. He recognised the Danelaw, he built up the fleet, and was famously rowed along the River Dee by several kings who bowed in homage to him.

But he, too, died young, although not childless. He left two sons - a third had died in infancy - but his marital history is rather difficult to unravel. Some say he had three wives, some two, but what is clear is that his surviving sons were half, not full brothers. One, Edward, was the son of - in my view - Wulfthryth, whose status was unclear and who was the subject of much gossip by the later chroniclers, some of whom thought she was a nun who had been seduced by the king. The other son was Æthelred, born to Edgar's anointed queen, Ælfthryth.

A charter from Edgar's reign shows clearly that Ælfthryth's elder son, who died in infancy, had taken precedence over Edward, but it was Edward who initially succeeded his father, reigning for three years, although he was not universally loved, or supported. 

The factions divided, with the Church and the East Anglians supporting the firstborn son, Edward, while Ælfhere of Mercia supported the queen, whose son had been born 'in the purple'. What followed has been labelled the 'anti-monastic reaction' but was essentially a politically-driven righting of perceived wrongs.

And there it might have ended, with squabbling and a few land-grabs. But someone, and many pointed fingers at the queen, decided to remove Edward from the scene. Permanently.

And so the years of 'peace' had seen the growth of politics, self-serving nobles and the development of sharp elbows in the corridors of power. Now, the king of England was  Æthelred. He was young, he was badly-counselled, (as Christopher Brooke puts it, "Dissidence and half-suppressed revolt ... in Æthelred's time now walked openly") and the Vikings were getting ready to sail again. So many young, strong, and politically astute Anglo-Saxon kings had died young, while Æthelred was to live long enough to see all their hard work unravel, in spectacular fashion.

Next time: Government in the reigns of Edgar and Æthelred II

If you want more about Ælfhere, and the Mercians generally, today (30 April 2019) my history of Mercia is available in the US. [Update: the paperback edition is due out later in 2020]

My novel about Ælfhere is available in Kindle, paperback and hardback editions.

Digging for Stories

Where do stories come from?

"An English civil war flag, captured by royalist Bernard Brocas to prove that his love for the daughter of parliamentarian Lord Sandys had not altered his loyalty to the king, is to be auctioned in April (2005). Taunted by the loyalist faction, Brocas swore an oath that he would give proof of his allegiance by winning a standard in the field. His chance came at the first battle of Newbury in September 1643. He captured a green silk damask banner with the motto "Constanter et Fiderliter" (Steadily and faithfully), but was later found dead beside the banner. Bonhams, which is handling the sale on behalf of a family descendant, expects the flag to fetch up to £5,000."

image - the telegraph

Well, there was a story waiting to be written - a tragic love story set against the backdrop of the civil war. I kept the cutting, intending to write the book, but I got distracted by other tales, other characters who clamoured for my attention.

Years ago, as an undergraduate with more summer holiday than ideas to occupy my time, I watched a documentary about the Ashburnham estate in Sussex. It wasn't a particularly inspiring story and I can't remember the main thread of the examination, but when the narrator told how one of the family commissioned the family crypt to be built, and that the last of the family line took the last available space in that crypt, my interested was ignited. I scribbled notes, I was going to write a book ...

A drawing by John Preston Neale of Ashburnham Place in 1828 showing the lake in front

... I didn't. I got a job, got married, had three children and changed career path.

But then one day I found the time to write. And it was another one-liner that came back to me. My wonderful tutor, Ann Williams, was talking about the background to the module for that term, which was 10th century Wessex. She talked about the preceding years, explaining what had led to the supremacy of Wessex and she spoke about Ethelred of Mercia. "No-one knows where he came from," she said. And I was captivated. I was going to write a book ...

... And I did. Although it turned out to be not the story of Ethelred so much as that of his wife, Aethelflaed, Lady of the Mercians.

Still I can't resist filing away little snippets; press cuttings, single sentences, anything that might one day make a fine story or novel.

Recently I was reading a book about myths and legends, and all things ghostly, and discovered that in 1820 the skeletal remains of a lady were found bricked up within one of the walls of the Captain's Tower of Carlisle Castle. "Three valuable rings remained on her fingers and she was still partially clothed in scraps of a tartan dress. It is unknown who she is, but evidence indicated that when she was walled up, she was still alive."

Even a friend of a friend's facebook lament:

"I apologise for last night. The lady you spoke to had one too many Calpols and was feeling ill at ease. I would text you but she felt the need to delete everything on my phone." Although in this case, I wonder if we don't already have the story in those 36 words. 

Sometimes novels start with a plot, a situation, a story to be told. At other times, they begin with a brief revelation, a tiny snapshot of another life that draws the novelist, particularly the historical novelist, down a path of discovery, collecting more and more pictures and vignettes until the whole album is ready to be laid open for other people to look at.

I'd love to hear from people who've been similarly pricked, provoked, or persuaded to write, from a single episode, sentence or fact. Please leave comments below: