The Rise of Thomas Becket

 When you hear the name Thomas Becket, you naturally think of the Archbishop of Canterbury’s fatal dispute with King Henry II, his one time friend. In this post, we’ll take a brief look at Becket’s life before he rose to real prominence before concluding with a brief overview of his relationship with Henry II. Born in London, Becket’s parents were Gilbert and Matilda who were described by Gervase Of Canterbury as being “of middle rank in life.” Thomas was tall and handsome with, as you may expect, a sharp mind. From his mother in particular, religious devotion was driven into Becket and, as such, he was known to be charitable, aiding beggars with a “full heart.”

With a good education behind him, Becket was soon making a name for himself with the Archbishop of Canterbury, Theobald of Bec, recognising his obvious potential. Gervase of Canterbury says that Becket was on good and even close terms with Theobald and this statement is supported by the obvious trust the Archbishop placed in him. Becket was frequently sent to Rome and elsewhere on behalf of Theobald and the English church to conduct important business. Almost without fail, Becket brought his dealings to a successful conclusion.

Having trained in both Canon and Civil law, Becket was appointed Archdeacon of Canterbury in 1154. Not long after this latest development in his life, England would find itself with a new king. The previous year, young Henry, Duke of Normandy was made the designated heir to King Stephen after a long and painful struggle between Stephen and Henry’s mother Matilda. Stephen died in October 1154 with Henry arriving back on English shores in December of that year.

Henry was an impressive young man with boundless energy. To help govern his kingdom,he would need like minded individuals who were both vigorous as well as intelligent. Becket was one such individual and, with Theobald’s recommendation, Becket was appointed Chancellor of England. It was a shrewd move as Henry and Becket helped steer England out of the gloomy days of the reign of Stephen and into a “new spring time.” Law and order was restored to a recently corrupted land whilst the mercenaries who had been brought into the country by Stephen, a lingering reminder of the troubles, were removed swiftly. The country, it seemed, could look ahead to a new enlightened age.

There was one problem. Henry, a great law giver and determined to bring order to all four corners of his kingdom, knew the English church had been left in a bit of a state by Stephen with the clergy full of crooks and scoundrels. This would have to be dealt with in time. That time, Henry sensed, may have come when Archbishop Theobald died in 1161. Henry had the perfect candidate to succeed him; Chancellor Becket. Well versed in Church matters, hard working and conscientious, Becket was better placed than any other man in England to fill the now vacant see.

But Becket was reluctant. He had, in Gervase’ words, won great favour with Henry and wished to keep things that way. And, obviously, he was right to have those doubts. After he finally accepted the position, Becket’s and Henry’s relationship was altered forever. Becket, rightly or wrongly, would stand steadfast in his determination to protect the Church from Royal interference, famously to Henry’s fury. As a successful chancellor and Henry’s friend, Becket had been placed in charge of the King’s son and heir, another Henry. Once the feud between King and Archbishop broke out, Prince Henry was removed from Becket’s care.

The fiery feud between Henry and Becket has gone down in History, not least because of the disastrous scenes in Canterbury Cathedral in the last days of 1170 where Becket was murdered brutally by four knights acting, as they thought, on Henry’s orders. The King was horrified at Becket’s death, as was the rest of Christendom. From afar, the death of Becket still looks appallingly tragic. Henry II was a great king whilst Becket a man of equally great talent. Had their relationship remained harmonious, who knows what greatness they could have achieved together?

The Life of St Dunstan

 In 955, a young lad became King of the English. His name was Eadwig, aged about 15. Eadwig would accomplish little during his time as king, being best remembered for the scandal he created at his own coronation. Having been crowned, Eadwig, slipped away from the celebrations and off into his chambers and began frolicking with two noble women, a mother and a daughter. Naturally, this outrageous behaviour stirred much indignation, not least with Dunstan, the abbot of Glastonbury and one of the most distinguished churchmen of the day.

Dunstan, with little regard for Eadwig’s anger, “violently dragged the lascivious boy from the chamber…making him his enemy for ever.” The furious and probably embarrassed Eadwig had Dunstan banished from his kingdom with Dunstan forced to cross the channel to Flanders where he would reside for the next two years. Eadwig, however, was not popular and, by 957, he had lost control with the Mercians and Northumbrians rejecting his kingship outright and electing Eadwig’s brother Edgar as their king instead. England, so recently united, had once more become divided.

But Edgar, despite his tender years, had better judgement than Eadwig and one of his first decisions was to recall Dunstan from his exile. Within a short time, Dunstan was chosen as the new Bishop of Worcester, consecrated by Odo, Archbishop of Canterbury. Given the solemnity of the occasion, I think it’s safe to say Eadwig’s authority as king by that point was virtually nonexistent. Dunstan would then be granted the Bishopric of London.

In 959, Eadwig, still in his teens, died and Edgar, already proving himself capable as king, would now rule over the whole of England. Among the first decisions for Edgar to make was to choose a new Archbishop of Canterbury. Odo, “a man of talent, worth and virtues”, had died the previous year, whilst a successor, Aelfsige, had frozen to death whilst travelling to Rome to gain the Pope’s approval whilst yet another Byrhthelm had been selected but was soon deemed “little qualified for so high a dignity.” Fortunately for Edgar, there was an obvious candidate to put an end to this rather bizarre period of instability at Canterbury. Dunstan was chosen as Archbishop and, in 960, he made a successful trip to Rome to meet with the Pope, avoiding the fate of Aelfsige.

Under Edgar’s guidance, England and its church prospered for the next 16 years, ably supported by Dunstan and the other leading churchmen, as the country enjoyed a much needed period of calm. But it wasn’t all smooth sailing between Edgar and Dunstan. Edgar earned Dunstan’s wrath when he kidnapped a nun and raped her. Dunstan was outraged at Edgar’s disgusting behaviour, “vehemently reproving him”, demanding a 7 year penance of the king. Whilst Edgar was unquestionably a great king, there were fatal weaknesses in his character.

In 978, following the shocking death of Edward The Martyr, Dunstan found himself supervising the coronation of Aethelred, Edward’s half brother. Edward had been murdered by Aethelred’s mother, Elfrida, so her son could take the throne. It was a sorrowful tale and Dunstan strongly rebuked both Aethelred and Elfrida at the coronation warning them that their actions would bring upon them and the country many woes; “such evils shall come upon the English nation as they have never suffered.” Indeed, it is quite likely that Aethelred, a pawn to his mother’s machinations, may have had a disliking for Dunstan. As a little baby, Aethelred had been baptised by Dunstan as Edgar, Aethelred’s father, and Elfrida watched on. Unfortunately, Aethelred soiled the baptismal font causing Dunstan to cry out “By God and his mother, this will be a sorry fellow.” If this tale is true, Aethelred may have heard it and, after his coronation, he would surely have drawn the conclusion that Dunstan was not a man to upset. However, there is reason to doubt the baptism story as it seems unlikely Dunstan would insult baby Aethelred in front of the king and queen.

Dunstan died in 988 as England began to suffer from the evils that he had predicted. The Vikings returned to English shores during the early 980s and Aethelred, for all of his long reign, would fight a miserable and losing battle against them. Did Dunstan really know the full extent of the troubles that lay ahead for England as he crowned Aethelred? It is doubtful as the country, largely, had been at peace for a long time. More likely is that he detected a fundamental weakness in young Aethelred’s character, a similar weakness that he had seen in Eadwig when he frogmarched him out of his chambers. Dunstan was a stern faced man with little tolerance for the sins of kings. One of his successors as Archbishop of Canterbury, Sigeric, would have none of Dunstan’s resolve, advising Aethelred’s disastrous “Danegeld” policy. The king may have harboured longstanding resentment against Dunstan but he would have fared better if he had more men like Dunstan around him for the duration of his reign.

Forgiving Aethelred The Unready

 Somebody I’ve given a lot of thought to over the last couple of years is Aethelred The Unready. Poor Aethelred’s reign was dominated by the resurgent Viking raids which had calmed for an extended period of time before bursting into life again in the 990s. And Aethelred was, famously, completely incapable of dealing with such a terrible problem, unlike many of his distinctly more robust predecessors over the course of the previous century. But the question I frequently ask myself is “does Aethelred deserve to be heavily chastised or is his reputation as an inept ruler slightly harsh on him?”

Well, as I’ve already indicated, Aethelred was following in the footsteps of some seriously strong kings dating back to the time of Alfred The Great. By the time Aethelred became king in 978, there had only been two failed reigns of an English king in just over a century. These were Eadwig, an immature king who died young and Aethelred’s half brother, Edward The Martyr, who was murdered aged only 15, allowing Aethelred to become king. By law of averages, the country was due a disastrous reign and, unfortunately, it was Aethelred who was that disaster.

But, in my view, we must be careful about being overly critical of Aethelred. He lived in challenging times and he did try what he thought was best. The effort and endeavour to protect his English subjects from the monstrous Vikings was there but his methods were disjointed and, often, misguided. His payment of “Danegeld”, a tribute to the Vikings to cease their bloodshed, is easily construed as cowardice on Aethelred’s part but he frequently attempted to defeat his enemies in battle as well. Unfortunately, these campaigns often ended in fiasco with Aethelred entrusting the command to men who were unfit for purpose.

The organisation of Aethelred’s campaigns were a shambles. The Anglo Saxon Chronicles bemoans how the English army would often be at the opposite end of the country to wherever the Vikings were raiding. In short, Aethelred was no military genius and his strategies, both bribery and force, were dismal failures. But Aethelred is not the only one to blame for the troubles of his reign. “The Unready” of course translates to “ill advised” which is a big clue that Aethelred was surrounded by incompetence. One man who let Aethelred down on at least two occasions was Aelfric of Hampshire. This Earldoman had been trusted by Aethelred in 992 and 1002 to march on the Vikings but, on both occasions, failed to do his duty.

But Aethelred also failed to help himself. He attempted to bribe Danes to join his service, probably an indicator of his limited means and desperation. And, as was the case with Danegeld and the entire Danish force, individuals simply took the payment and promptly stabbed Aethelred in the back by returning swiftly to the Danish ranks. Danegeld didn’t prevent the Danish army from their raiding and individual bribery didn’t work either. In 1002, Aethelred’s patience snapped and he ordered the St Brice’s Day Massacre, a slaughter of Danes living in England.

It is very easy to criticise Aethelred from the relative comfort of the 21st Century but he did stand and try to fight. Unfortunately for him, he neither had the brainpower or the steadfast and loyal men required to fight such a fierce enemy. Aethelred’s reign was dogged by fear, tears, blood and fire and he was unable to stop the carnage, try as he might.

878-954: The Birth of England

 You may wonder the significance of the numbers in the title. They are, in fact, the most important years in English history. At Edington, fought on 6th May 878, the  throne of Wessex, held by a certain king Alfred, was vulnerable as the Vikings threatened to overrun Wessex as they had done other parts of England. Alfred, suffering from chronic illness, had been forced to flee through swamps and woods to seek refuge with a simple family where, legend has it, he failed to prevent the burning of the cakes, earning him the wrath of the housewife. Alfred would rally himself, gathered his army together once more and trounce the Danes at Edington, Wiltshire, forcing them into retreat. 

Alfred had preserved his kingdom and, over the coming decades, he, his son Edward The Elder and daughter Aethelflaed, gradually turned Wessex into a united England. In the face of Viking hostility and generations of English divisions, it was a staggering achievement. It would be left up to Alfred's grandsons, Aethelstan, Edmund I and Eadred to complete the job. Aethelstan, assisted by his half brother Edmund I, went a long way to securing England's future by destroying its Danish and Scottish enemies at Brunanburh; such was the rout that it was said that no greater slaughter had been seen.

Brunanburh was a hugely important victory in the early history of England but not quite decisive. Aethelstan died two years later and Edmund I succeeded to the English throne. The Danes returned and seized control of not only the north but began to swarm over Mercia as well. It was a critical moment that threatened to undo all the work of Edmund's predecessors but the king held his nerve and manfully overturned most of initial losses. Northumbria would remain problematic into the reign of Edmund's brother, Eadred, but it was brought under the crown's control in 954 and, after generations of trouble, it would remain English for good.

Explaining the popularity of Edward III

 On social media recently, I have been pondering the kingship of Edward III. Today, Edward remains one of England's most popular kings but the point that I have been making to anyone that would listen is that his reign has been overly glamorised and, in reality, not all that romantic at all. Through his wars in France and his great victories in battle to his founding of the Order of the Garter, Edward firmly established himself as a king of chivalry which modern readers still find themselves attracted to. But the reality of his reign was very different. Campaigning in medieval times was an extremely burdensome thing; it took a serious toll on a kingdom's man power through deaths in battle and inevitable outbreaks of disease that followed a medieval army. A life of campaigning could take a terrible toll on a man's health as evidenced by the long years of illness experienced by Edward's son, The Black Prince, which ultimately denied him the chance of succeeding his father.

Edward III's war, which became known as The Hundred Years War and continued on and off long after his death in 1377, also burdened England as a nation. A medieval army had to be financed and supported. In 1339, during one of his campaigns, Edward wrote to England, complaining of the lack of financial support he was being provided with.  Over the coming decades, this war would become increasingly expensive and, by the end of Edward's reign, England would have little to show for their efforts in the early stages of the Hundred Years War.. The crown was impoverished and poll taxes were levied which created tremendous resentment against an already seething peasantry class who eventually showed their anger during the Peasants Revolt of 1381 during the reign of Richard II.

When you consider the question, why is Edward III so popular, you soon realise that it has little to do with the realities of his reign and more to do with the mythology of his kingship that he added to with the Order of the Garter. In real terms, Edward declared war on France based on a false claim to the French crown, lost most of what he had won and left the nation vulnerable to a potential invasion. He angered the Peasants by suppressing their wages during the Black Death and, by the end of his reign, he couldn't even guarantee their safety from the French, Edward III's war created social disorder at home shortly after his reign and even after the Hundred Years War with the Wars of the Roses another direct consequence of Edward's decision.

In short, people like the idea of Edward III more than what he actually was. Historians continue to spread the idea that he was the "Perfect King"; he wasn't anything of the sort, During his reign, Edward held two foreign kings as prisoner in England, David II of Scotland and John II of France, the stories of both men, John in particular, contributing to Edward's reputation as a chivalrous king. I may sound miserly in my assessment of Edward III but I do think it is worth guarding against a king who helped to create real social disorder in England during the 14th and 15th centuries.

Why Was Edward II A Failure?

 On the surface, this looks a fairly easy question to answer. Edward II failed as king because he simply failed to show enough moderation when it came to his friendships with Piers Gaveston and Hugh Despenser The Younger. In 1311, Edward was presented with a list of complaints, known as the Ordinances, which sought to keep his reign and power in check. The list was fairly extensive but the central complaints were the king's relationship and emotional reliance on Piers Gaveston and his dismal handling of Scotland where Edward was being hopelessly outwitted by Robert The Bruce. But I think the Scottish failures as bad as they were, and worse was to come at Bannockburn in 1314, may have been overlooked had Edward II allowed himself to be manipulated by his personal favourites so, I suppose, the question is perhaps more why did Edward become so fixated on Piers Gaveston and then Hugh Despenser which ultimately brought about his own downfall in 1326?

Well, Edward was clearly a likeable enough man. In the backdrop of disapproving tuts and sneering words of medieval chroniclers, Edward could often be found conversing with ordinary men who were perhaps going about their menial and every day work. For a medieval king, this was hardly what was expected of them. Such behaviour was regarded as being beneath their royal dignity. Whatsmore, Edward thoroughly enjoyed other peasantry pursuits such as building, digging ditches and so forth. Again, this met with much disapproval.  Edward was not a conventional king.

Edward's father, Edward I, had raised Edward on the art of warfare, taking him on campaigns in Scotland. Young Edward could be found at the siege of Caerlaverock in 1300 so, judging by his upbringing, Edward should have been fully prepared for the difficult task of being king medieval king of England. But, during his rearing to be king, Edward began his friendship with Piers Gaveston which Edward I initially didn't mind but which grew to irritate him. As a young boy, Edward's mother, Eleanor died, to his father's dismal. Later in Edward's childhood, Edward I married again and he became close with his stepmother When you look over what we've seen so far, Edward seems to have been a person who built relationships easily and, when he became fond of some one, he became too attached to them.

This then is perhaps the crux of the issue. By nature, Edward was not a malicious man, certainly not compared to his father, although, during his long war against his nobles, Edward II certainly could show malice. His character was affable and genial, he bonded with people with relative ease and self serving people like Gaveston and Despenser could play on that to their great advantage whilst Edward failed to see through their selfishness. I don't think Edward's failings as king were necessarily because he was a bad man, per se but more because he just didn't have the stomach for the fight the way his father had. This is one of the problems with a monarchy passed between father and son. A king could trains his heir as much as he liked in the arts of kingship but if his son didn't have the gravitas then there was little he could do and it seems Edward I was aware of his heir's failings.

 

The Tragic Tale of Edward V

 

Edward V was, of course, one of the tragic “Princes In The Tower”, the victim, alongside his brother Richard, of his unscrupulous uncle, Richard III. Dominic Mancini describes Edward as a young lad who was wiser than his years. Edward had the countenance quite befitting of a king; sombre yet he retained a charm that, in the words of Mancini, he “never wearied the eyes of beholders (those who looked upon him). This then was a 12 year old boy who, despite his tender age, looked very regal.

Edward was a gifted child and excelled at the first class education that would be afforded to a prince who was heir to the throne no less. He had a particular aptitude for literature which made him a gifted and articulate speaker. The portrait that Mancini paints with his words of this lost king is of a boy who was bright, engaging and wise, all qualities one would hope for in a king.

Even during the increasingly dark days inside the Tower of London, after his uncle’s terrible coup, young Edward demonstrated a level of maturity other prisoners much older than he would scarcely have been able to retain. There were no tantrums or meltdowns, which he would have been quite entitled to have; no, instead, Edward maintained his dignity, perhaps for the sake of his younger brother, likely his courage was strengthened by his faith. All the same, it was a terrible predicament for a young boy to find himself in; his father was dead, he was separated from his mother and, as time passed, it would have become clear to Edward, who likely would have been alive and well aware of his uncle’s coronation, that the future was bleak for he and his brother.

Excuses have been made for Richard III over the centuries. To this day, people maintain there is no evidence that Edward V and his brother were murdered and they could have survived. These theories are bordering on crackpot. The only theory that comes close to certainty is that Edward V and his younger brother were put to death inside the walls of the Tower and, assuming this is correct, there is only one man who could have been responsible.

There are those who struggle to come to terms with Richard III being a murderer but he wouldn’t have been the first in English history to kill a family member in the sake of his own thirst for power. In the 10th century, Elfrida, queen of King Edgar, had her stepson killed so her biological son, Aethelred, could become king and Henry I is often accused of having his brother, William II, killed during a hunt so he could take the crown. There was precedence and Richard having, apparently, been a loyal brother to Edward IV, Edward’s father, is no proof of innocence either.

But this post was not supposed to be about Richard III. My distaste for him should be apparent. This post was written for Edward V. A young king lost to us who could have altered the course of English history for the better. Edward would likely have grown to be an astute and accomplished king, more mature than his rather sloppy father. His death would, in 2 short years, usher in a changing of the guard as Richard III paid for his sins with his defeat and death at Bosworth at the hands of Henry Tudor. England now had a new dynasty that would prove to be nothing short of oddball, a stark contrast to what Edward V would have been.

Henry VIII: A King of Mass Destruction

 Throughout his 37 and a half year reign, Henry VIII rode roughshod over just about anyone who stood in his way (or whom he regarded to stand in his way). A petulant, spoiled brat of a king who also happened to be a tyrannical monster. Most people are aware of the dreadful damage he inflicted on his wives, his ministers and the general population. From the beheading of two of his wives, one nothing more than a naive young girl to truly malicious executions including that of Richard Roose. Richard had been accused of attempting to poison John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester.

Henry was extremely paranoid (a trait that ran through the remarkable Tudor family with even Elizabeth I susceptible, especially in her later years) and he particularly dreaded being poisoned so such an accusation being levelled against Roose was triggered the king’s deepest fears and, with it, brought out the absolute malice of his character. Richard Roose was boiled alive; an absolutely sickening form of execution that is every bit as horrible as it sounds.

But there was another execution that I recently learned of that horrified me even more, ordered by this monstrous man. This was of a 15 year old boy whose parents were both dead. Alone in the world, this young began to listen to the preachings of a heretic and became invested in them. When this preacher was convicted of heresy, the 15 year old orphan would go the same way. He was burned at the stake. I repeat, a 15 year old boy. This was Henry VIII’s England. Thousands upon thousands had their heads chopped off, were burned at the stake, hanged, drawn or quartered or, as with Roose, died by some other horrible means. Traditional estimates of the number of executions ordered by Henry VIII are given at 72,000 although that figure has been challenged. This was the reward for people who dared to challenge Henry in any way or, as the case may be, to not challenge or even pose a threat to him at all.

The cowardice of Henry’s nature didn’t just cause a catastrophic loss of human life. It did untold damage to the very history of this nation. Famously, to get his divorce from Catherine of Aragon, Henry broke with Rome and made himself the Supreme Head of the Church in England. He then waged a most unholy and impious war to prove his “supremacy”. Monasteries and other religious houses were effectively destroyed and the king helped himself to vast lands, properties and other riches. What this resulted in, disastrously, was the loss of the remains of some of English history’s greatest figures.

At Canterbury, the shrine of Thomas Becket was destroyed and his remains burned. For centuries, the shrine had served as a focal point for pilgrims from far and wide, not just in England. Becket, of course, had stood strong against what the interference of church matters by Henry II and, no doubt, Henry VIII would have been little impressed by this act of defiance against the power of the crown and so the shrine, and Becket, would be lost forever.

At Reading Abbey, in Berkshire, lay the remains of the great king Henry I, son of William The Conqueror. The abbey fell victim to Henry’s onslaught as did Faversham Abbey in Kent where King Stephen, nephew of Henry I, lay along with his wife Matilda of Boulogne. There is some hope that the remains of both Henry I and King Stephen may be found one day. And there is also lingering hope that the remains of the great Anglo Saxon kings Alfred The Great and Edward The Elder, buried at Hyde Abbey and also lost in the Reformation, may also be rediscovered in time. In modern times, a documentary was filmed where the pelvic bone belonging to either Alfred or his son Edward was unearthed and identified. At Malmesbury, the tomb of Edward’s equally brilliant son, Aethelstan, built in the 15th century, survived the purge and can still be seen although, again, the remains were lost, likewise with Aethelflaed, Lady of the Mercians, one of the great early female trailblazers.

This then is Henry VIII’s legacy. Whilst he threw his toys out of the pram when he didn’t get his own way and made everyone else pay, he inadvertently undermined the crown that he wore on his head. The England that he now ruled over had owed its very existence to the likes of Alfred, Edward The Elder, Aethelstan and Aethelflaed, the very people he was solely responsible for losing, most probably for ever. Yes, he may have viewed the houses they lay in and the tombs themselves as the symbol of everything he had come to hate but what he had also done was spit in the face of English royalty. This was more than ironic for a man who was nothing more than an Edward III or Henry V wannabe. What is particularly sad is that Henry VIII now attracts more attention because of his destructive ways than, for example, a noble king like Alfred The Great. That seems to be the way of the world.

Henry I: An Assessment

 Henry I, a son of William The Conqueror, ruled England from 1100 to 1135. He ruled England for a substantial period of time, 35 years in the early 12th century, but what type of king was he? Well, unsurprisingly for a son of William The Conqueror, he was ruthless. Having become well established on the English throne, he would go on to seize control of the Duchy of Normandy at the expense of his eldest brother, Robert Curthose, whom he defeated at the Battle of Tinchebray in 1106. Robert thus became Henry’s prisoner for the remainder of his long life, living into his 80s and dying only the year before Henry himself. Henry used all his political nous to ensure that Robert’s reputation was muddied by protesting his own innocence to the pope. Paschal II was initially displeased with Henry’s actions but was easily won over by Henry’s persuasions that Robert had ruled over Normandy in the fashion of a tyrant.

Having taken Normandy, Henry would still have a fight on his hands to retain hold of the Duchy, which he intended to pass to his son and heir William Aetheling, in the face of the rival claims of Robert’s son, William Clito, who was supported by the French king, Louis The Fat. Henry showed his military acumen when he defeated his rivals at Bremule in 1119. Henry’s plans, however, were drastically altered when William Aetheling drowned the following year which altered not only the future of England but Normandy also. After recovering somewhat from the shock of the death of his one legitimate son, of which he was devastated, Henry would have to think on his feet. More on that in a moment.

Henry seizing power in Normandy was questionable as was his taking the crown in England. His and Robert’s brother, William II, was the third born son of William The Conqueror. Robert was the eldest, the second, Richard, died in a hunting accident in 1070 with Henry being the youngest. On becoming king of England in 1066, William The Conqueror retained control of Normandy and, towards the end of his life, he now had to think of how both England and Normandy would be ruled. He decided Robert, who had rebelled seriously against his father, should take Normandy whilst England would go to William. Henry would have to make do with a financial payment. Robert wasn’t overly happy with this and attempted to oust William II as king but failed. Henry, meanwhile, lurked in the background. His prospects for power looked fairly bleak for a time but his opportunity came in 1100. Robert was away on Crusade and William II was mysteriously killed, like Richard, whilst hunting in the New Forest. Henry showed his ruthlessness by having himself crowned 3 days after William’s death before anyone could stop him. Was he behind the “accident”? The evidence is inconclusive but, circumstantially at least, it looks suspicious. Henry knew he would have Robert to deal with when he returned but that was inconsequential. He had, after all, gone from a powerless younger son to having the opportunity, as time would show, to take his father’s entire inheritance.

From what we’ve discussed so far, Henry looks like the archetypal medieval king. Quick thinking, power hungry and ambitious. And that he was. But he was also a man with his fair share of shortcomings. Two of those shortcomings were a common theme with medieval kings of England. Food and women. In 1135, Henry died from a fever brought on, famously, by him eating an excessive amount of lampreys, a type of eel. His doctors had specifically warned him not to do so but the advice seems to have fallen on deaf ears.

At the time of his death, Henry may have felt he had gone some way of dealing with the dilemma of the succession that had been brought on by the death of William Aetheling. Henry had only produced two children with his queen, the other being a girl, named Matilda. But he had also produced about 24 illegitimate children with mistresses. A shocking number which suggests, although this is speculation, that Henry perhaps could have been more attentive to the thought of the succession. With both his one male heir and queen dead, Henry now had a problem he had to solve. He needed another son but, despite marrying a young woman in order to produce one, another son was not forthcoming.

Henry considered making one of his illegitimate sons his heir but instead settled on his daughter, Matilda, who had been married to the Holy Roman Emperor earning her the title “Empress”. Henry knew that this was a risk as female rule was still a fairly alien concept in 12th century England and he knew any plans for a long dynasty hung in the balance. The king made his barons swear loyalty to Matilda three times, meaning he certainly didn’t trust them to accept her as their new monarch when he died.

Although it is impossible to say for certain, I think Henry’s behaviour contributed to the troubles that followed his death. Had he avoided the temptation of lampreys, he may have lived a little longer, although he was already a good age in medieval terms, and perhaps made a stronger case for Matilda’s succession. Matilda already had two sons with a third yet to come. If Henry had lived perhaps a few years more, he could point out to his nobles the strapping young boys who were the real future of the English crown. As it was, one of them would become king in 1154 as Henry II. When Henry I died, the future Henry II was only a toddler and still had to survive the perils of infancy in the Middle Ages and so too much stock couldn’t be placed on him at that time. However, once he got to the age of 6 or 7, he would have begun to look like a potential future king. Henry I’s death was avoidable. Although the death of William Aetheling was a severe blow, it didn’t need to be an irreparable one as I’ve evidenced. Of course, Henry I may have died of some other ailment if the lampreys didn’t get him so this is all conjecture.

In purely kingship terms, Henry was undoubtedly a very strong ruler. He passed a charter of liberties which would be cited by the barons who forced Magna Carta under the nose of King John. Offenders in Henry’s realm could expect heavy punishment such as mutilation. Henry was particularly strict on coin clipping. As it was, England was a country that enjoyed law and order during Henry’s time and he could concentrate on fighting his enemies across the channel. Henry I was very much a king who had his flaws but, likewise, he also had qualities that could have seen him rank among the very best of medieval kings. Unfortunately it was the Anarchy that followed his reign, of which Henry contributed too, that has tarnished his legacy somewhat.

Edward The Elder

 Most people have heard of Alfred The Great and Alfred’s grandson, Aethelstan, was the famous victor at Brunanburh, one of the most consequential battles in English history. However, sandwiched in between the reigns of these two kings was a man who has often been overlooked, a king of great capability whose own rule would help lay the foundations for the successes of the reigns of his sons, Aethelstan, Edmund I and Eadred. This king is known to history as Edward The Elder, the son and successor of Alfred The Great.

Edward’s father loved learning and promoted education far and wide with the belief that an educated population, and not just the rich, would stand the country in good stead. Accordingly, Alfred ensured that his children, both sons and daughters, were taught both well and extensively. Alfred’s chronicler, Asser, who knew the king personally, describes the education of Edward and his siblings. Of the education of Aethelweard, Edward’s youngest sibling, Asser wrote “Æthelward, the youngest, by the divine counsel and by the admirable foresight of the king, was entrusted to the schools of literary training, where, with the children of almost all the nobility of the country, and many also who were not noble, he was under the diligent care of the teachers. Books in both languages, namely, Latin and Saxon, were diligently read in the school. They also learned to write; so that before they were of an age to practise human arts, namely, hunting and other pursuits which befit noblemen, they became studious and clever in the liberal arts.”

Edward was not as fond of learning as his father but the education that Alfred was providing for Edward was certainly standing him in good stead. Edward was described as being humble, affable and gentle towards all whilst remaining fully obedient to his father, not always the case in those days. Asser goes on to write this of Edward and his siblings

” Nor, among the other pursuits which appertain to this life and are fit for noble youths, are they suffered to pass their time idly and unprofitably without liberal training; for they have carefully learned the Psalms and Saxon books, especially Saxon poems, and are in the habit of making frequent use of books.”

But in the age of the Viking wars, there would be much more to do for Edward than simply reading books. Alfred had fought, with considerable success, to repel Viking onslaughts but the king knew he couldn’t go on forever. Dogged throughout his adult life by Crohn’s disease, Alfred had to ensure that Edward was prepared for the challenges that would come for him when it was his turn to be king. This meant trusting Edward to not only join him on his campaigns but also help to lead them. By the early 890s, Edward was in his mid to late teens and at the Battle of Farnham, he demonstrated that, already, he was prepared for kingship.

The Vikings had launched yet another campaign of raiding and plundering and were returning to Essex with the spoils they had seized when they were intercepted by one half of the Wessex royal army. Alfred had split his forces into two and it was the half led by Edward who intercepted the raiders at Farnham. Edward and his men charged at the enemy and drove them into flight, retaking the riches that had been stolen. Edward was not content with that and went in pursuit of the Vikings but soon found his army dwindling in numbers as many of the men had served their time. For the young Edward, this would have been frustrating but his bravery and obvious leadership skills must surely have pleased his father.

In around 894, Edward’s wife, Ecgwynn, gave birth to a son. He was named Aethelstan and would grow to be another extraordinary king. Shortly before his death in 899, Alfred presented his little grandson with a new sword and belt, remarking how he recognised greatness in the boy. These may sound like the words of a doting grandfather but I think they are less of a reflection of what Alfred saw in Aethelstan’s potential and, instead, it was more a commentary of Alfred’s faith in Aethelstan’s father. Alfred knew as well as anyone that life in this age could be fleeting and there was no guarantee that Aethelstan would ever become king but Alfred knew that, in Edward, the young boy had the perfect role model. Edward would be a brilliant king, brave, energetic, daring and a brilliant administrator. The kingdom that Edward would leave for Aethelstan on his own death in 924 would be far more extensive than the one he inherited from Alfred. Alfred’s greatest legacy was how he had reared his children, in particular Edward and Aethelflaed, the girl who had married the ruler of Mercia and who would do so much to help the House of Wessex unite what we now call England. After 28 long years of reigning, filled with ill health and war, Alfred The Great died. Although there was still much to be done for Edward and his successors, Alfred was surely at peace with himself when he died. However, a figure from Alfred’s past would cause Edward problems in the early years of his reign.

This came in the shape of his cousin, Aethelwold. Aethelwold was the son of Aethelred I who was Alfred’s brother. Aethelred died in 871 when Aethelwold and his own sibling were very small children. In this age of Viking raids, the common sense approach was taken that it simply would not do to have a little boy as king. In the centuries to come, young children and even babies would become monarchs and often this led to nothing but trouble. The situation demanded that a fully grown man take the crown. Alfred, who’d learnt much from campaigning alongside Aethelred, was in his 20s and obviously a much more suitable candidate to be king. But, 3 decades on, Aethelwold was now a fully grown man. It is a question to ponder whether Alfred foresaw this situation arising. Either way, the real problem that Edward had was that Aethelwold’s claim was perfectly legitimate. His father had been higher up the succession then Alfred therefore that made Aethelwold’s claim technically a stronger one then Edward’s.

However, the line of succession was nothing like as rigid as it would become after the Norman Conquest and Edward would keep hold of the throne. And it was a good job he did too. Aethelwold, during his revolt to try and oust Edward, didn’t exactly show the best judgement. First, he kidnapped a woman who had sworn to become a nun and effectively held her hostage before turning to the Vikings for support as he struggled to gain support from other quarters. Aethelwold’s revolt was clearly a dangerous one for Edward but Aethelwold was killed in battle in 902.

With his cousin out of the way, Edward could concentrate on other matters.

Throughout his reign, Edward would show he could use both diplomatic and military methods to secure peace for his kingdom. In 906, Edward made peace with the Vikings which the ASC describes as being done through necessity which would suggest there had been a definite increase in harassment of the Anglo Saxon kingdoms at that time and it was no surprise that the peace didn’t last. Edward sent a combined army of men from Wessex and Mercia northwards and battered the Vikings at Tettenhall, causing the invaders significant damage, killing a number of their leaders. It was a seismic victory and helped subdue the enemies of the north.

Not long after this battle, Edward’s brother in law, Aethelred of Mercia died. Edward’s son, Aethelstan, had been sent to the court of Aethelred and Aethelflaed where they kept a close eye on his upbringing and evidently done a good job. Aethelred’s passing meant that his remarkable wife, Aethelflaed, Edward’s sister, now became “the Lady of the Mercians” and this remarkable woman would play a huge role in the coming years until her own death in 918. Following Aethelred’s passing, Edward took under his control London, which had been recaptured from the Vikings and given to Aethelred by Alfred, and Oxford. In the coming months and years, Edward built defensive strongholds across the south including at Hertford and Witham in 912. In 915, he strengthened Buckinghamshire and, in the following year, Maldon. William of Malmesbury says this of Edward’s work;” He devised a mode of frustrating the incursions of the Danes, for he repaired many ancient cities, or built new ones, in places calculated for his purpose and filled them with a military force to protect its inhabitants and repel the enemy. Nor was his design unsuccessful.” Building and repairing defensive fortifications may look like a common sense step to take in days such as these, and indeed it was, but everything Edward done was meticulous in its planning

All the while, Edward’s sister proved to be no less tireless in protecting her people. Aethelflaed built forts at Tamworth, Warwick and Stafford. In 916, Aethelflaed’s army stormed into Wales, destroying a castle there and taking hostage the wife of a Welsh king. She captured towns and cities across the Midlands including Derby and Leicester. Some of this had been accomplished by Aethelflaed’s guile, others through more forceful measures. Aethelflaed died in 918. On his sister’s passing, Edward rode to Tamworth where loyalty was sworn to him immediately and the Welsh kings also came into line. With Aethelflaed’s death, Edward had become considerably more powerful as Mercia came under his control but he would surely have recognised the brilliance of his sister and must surely have been sorrowful at her death.

Over the next two years, Edward’s eyes remained firmly fixated on the north. In 919, he positioned himself in Manchester and the following he was in the Peak District, building forts as he went. In 920, Edward’s position as the dominant man in the British Isles was confirmed as King Constantine II of Scotland and the men of Northumbria, English and Dane alike, all paid homage to him. As Aethelstan would find out and put right, this was not guaranteed to last but Edward had certainly exceeded the power of his father and it was becoming clear that he would not leave merely the throne of Wessex for his son but, in reality, the kingdom of England.

Edward died in 924. What is telling of the nature of Edward is the fact he died only a few days after subduing a rebellion at Chester. This was testament to the will of the man. Boundless energy, relentless against his enemies and a fierce determination to protect his subjects. He, with the help of Aethelflaed, expanded his power beyond measure and his son would follow in his footsteps. Edward had the good fortune to be born into one of the most brilliant families in English history and, my goodness, did he live up to and enhance that family’s reputation. It was during his reign that England began to emerge as a fledgling nation. Of course, there was still work to be done but Edward’s sons, Aethelstan, Edmund and Eadred were all very capable successors.

There is only one final point to mull over. Why has this extraordinary man been so overlooked? If you mention the name Edward The Elder to almost anyone ,the chances are, all you’ll get is a blank stare gazing back at you. Really, this is a travesty. There is a case to be made that Edward is the greatest king in English history. And, yes, he is an ENGLISH king. In fact, he is, essentially, the founder of the English monarchy.