Showing posts with label Anglo-Saxons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anglo-Saxons. Show all posts

Thursday, October 24, 2019

The Not-So-Subtle Way Earl Ælfgar Escaped Outlawry And Banishment



Ælfgar (also known as Algar) was the formidable son of Earl Leofric of Mercia and Godgifu. Of a like mind with the formidable House of Godwin, Ælfgar was a powerful vassal who did not shy away from clashing with his liege, King Edward the Confessor of England (r. 1042-1066). Although Ælfgar was already the heir to the earldom of Mercia, he was given the title of earl of East Anglia around 1053, after Harold Godwinson shed that earldom to take up his late father’s claims in Wessex. In 1055, Harold’s brother, Tostig Godwinson, became the earl of Northumbria. As Ælfgar’s father, Leofric, was still earl of Mercia at that time, an incredible amount of England was ruled by those two families. King Edward the Confessor, likely feeling suffocated by these powerful noble houses, was apparently desperate to free up one of these earldoms from the bloated vassal families. Presumably inspired by such fears, King Edward decided to outlaw Ælfgar in 1055. On this move, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle stated, “Ælfgar, Earl Leofric’s son, was outlawed without any guilt” (ASC 1055), and the Chronicle of Florence of Worcester similarly stated that Ælfgar was outlawed “without any just cause of offence” (AD 1055).

The House of Godwin had, within that very decade, provided a game plan for Ælfgar to follow. Edward the Confessor had exiled the Godwin clan around 1051, but they soon returned to England with their own personal army and navy, which prompted the king to restore their lands and power in 1052. Learning from this, Ælfgar fled to Ireland and recruited a mercenary fleet of eighteen ships. He then sailed this force to northern Wales, where he made an alliance with the local Welsh king, Gruffydd ap Llywelyn, who is often called Griffith by English sources.

After building this Irish-Welsh Coalition, Ælfgar and Gruffydd invaded England and marched their forces in the direction of Hereford. A certain Earl Ralph hurriedly pulled together an army and intercepted the invading forces before they could reach the city. Ralph’s troops, however, were in no fit state for a battle, and they reportedly fled from Ælfgar and Gruffydd almost as soon as the fighting began. In the chaos, the outlawed earl’s troops were said to have cut down between four and five hundred Englishmen, whereas the coalition from Ireland and Wales reportedly lost not a single man. With Earl Ralph’s force in tatters, Ælfgar and Gruffydd broke into Hereford and plundered the city. They did not stay in the city for long, but instead withdrew back into Wales to await the inevitable English backlash. Harold Godwinson did indeed arrive with an army, but he did not chase Ælfgar very far, and instead focused on reassuring and fortifying the city of Hereford. During this standoff, Edward the Confessor was convinced, as Ælfgar likely hoped, to restore the outlawed noble’s legal status and titles. King Gruffydd ap Llywelyn, losing his ally, apparently agreed to a precarious truce with the English—Yet, he would be back at war with England as early as 1056.

Within the decade, history would repeat itself. A second bout between Edward the Confessor and Ælfgar was set in motion in 1057, when Earl Leofric of Mercia died. As Ælfgar was Leofric’s son, he inherited the earldom of Mercia and became even more of a threat to the king.  King Edward the Confessor lashed out at Ælfgar as early as 1058, sentencing the nobleman to banishment. Ælfgar, for his part, stuck to the same plan as before, fleeing to Wales and forming an alliance, once again, with the Welsh king, Gruffydd ap Llywelyn. Yet, Wales was not the only region in which Ælfgar had been cultivating relationships. Instead of turning once more to Ireland for naval support, Ælfgar shocked his English countrymen by calling in a fleet directly from Norway. Florence of Worcester described the banished earl’s quick and effective comeback campaign, saying “supported by Griffyth, king of Wales, and aided by a Norwegian fleet, which unexpectedly came to his relief, he speedily recovered his earldom by force of arms” (Chronicle of Florence of Worcester, AD 1058).

Fortunately for King Edward the Confessor, the troublesome Earl Ælfgar died of vague causes around 1062. The earl’s frequent ally, King Gruffydd ap Llywelyn, followed Ælfgar into death a few years later. Around 1064, Gruffydd was assassinated by his own countrymen after his wars with the English had taken a turn for the worse.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Scene of the Battle of Hasting by James William Edmund Doyle (1822–1892), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • The Chronicle of Florence of Worcester translated by Thomas Forester. London: Petter and Galpin, originally published 1854.
  • The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle translated by Benjamin Thorpe in 1861 and republished by Cambridge University Press, 2012. 
  • https://www.oxforddnb.com/view/10.1093/ref:odnb/9780198614128.001.0001/odnb-9780198614128-e-178 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Godwine 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Harold-II  
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Leofric 
  • https://www.encyclopedia.com/people/history/british-and-irish-history-biographies/gruffydd-ap-llywelyn 
  • http://fmg.ac/Projects/MedLands/ENGLAND,%20AngloSaxon%20nobility.htm#AelfgarMerciadied1062 
  • http://www.historywebsite.co.uk/articles/Penn/history/Godiva.htm  

Sunday, June 23, 2019

Bishop Denewlf—From The Pigpen To The Pulpit



Denewlf was a contemporary of King Alfred the Great of Wessex (r. 879-899) and lived in an undisclosed forested region of Alfred’s kingdom. Although Denewlf was an incredibly bright fellow, he was far removed from any government or ecclesiastical officials who might recognize his potential. He came from a poor family and unfortunately had no access to education. Making do with what he had, Denewlf devoted himself to a herd of pigs and lived as a swineherd in his wooded homeland.

The life of Denewlf the Swineherd changed forever when he had a chance encounter with King Alfred the Great sometime between 871 and 878. As the story goes, Alfred and his forces entered the stretch of forest where Denewlf lived at a time when Viking raiders were making one of their many incursions into the territory of Wessex. While the king and his thanes were hiding from, or setting up an ambush for, the troublesome Vikings, they happened to stumble across Denewlf and his pigs. The sources are not clear on when exactly the meeting took place, but two years in particular are likely candidates. In 871, Alfred lost a battle against Vikings at Wilton, near the Wylye River. After that loss, Alfred resorted to guerrilla warfare for the rest of the year, until he could arrange a peace agreement with the Vikings. Otherwise, 878 was a probable time for a chance forest encounter. In that year, the Viking warlord Guthrum invaded Wessex and caught Alfred so off guard that the king had to flee to the marshes of Somerset with a small band of loyalists. From there, Alfred resumed his guerrilla tactics and rallied his forces to eventually defeat Guthrum before the end of the year.

Whichever year, 871, 878, or somewhere in between, Alfred and his warriors eventually found themselves at wherever Denewlf lived with his animals. What exactly happened when they first met is unclear—perhaps they conversed after realizing he was not a Viking, or maybe Alfred simply commandeered the poor man’s pigs to feed the war effort. Nevertheless, whatever the route to the conclusion, Alfred and Denewlf eventually had a conversation. While the two talked, Denewlf’s natural intelligence became apparent to Alfred. The king was able to look past the lack of wealth and the absence of education to see Denewlf as a pool of unrefined and untrained potential. Alfred could sympathize with the uneducated—he himself was reportedly unable to read his native language until he was twelve, and he would not be confident in translating Latin until 887. Perhaps seeing something of himself in the swineherd, Alfred saw to it that Denewlf received tutors. Denewlf apparently made near superhuman progress in his learning and was appointed bishop of Winchester in 879. The Chronicle of Florence of Worcester summarized the tale well:

“This man, if report may be trusted, was, during the early part of his life, not only illiterate but a swineherd. King Alfred, when yielding to the fury of his enemies he had taken refuge in a forest, chanced to light upon him as he was feeding his swine. Remarking his intelligence, the king caused him to be taught learning, and when he was sufficiently instructed made him bishop of Winchester; a thing that may almost be considered miraculous” (Florence of Worcester, AD 879).

Bishop Denewlf of Winchester ruled his bishopric for around three decades and outlived the king who raised him from the pigpen to the pulpit. According to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Bishop Denewlf died in 909.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (painting by Eugène Burnand (1850-1921).

Sources:
  • The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle translated by Benjamin Thorpe in 1861 and republished by Cambridge University Press, 2012.
  • Asser’s Life of King Alfred and Other Contemporary Sources translated, introduced and denoted by Simon Keynes and Michael Lapidge. New York: Penguin Classics, 2004. 
  • The Chronicle of Florence of Worcester translated by Thomas Forester. London: Petter and Galpin, originally published 1854.  

Wednesday, June 19, 2019

The Sad Death And Miraculous Sendoff Of King Kenelm Of Mercia



King Cenwulf of Mercia was said to have begun his reign around 795 or 796, and ruled until the time of his death, which was dated to 819 by most medieval sources, including the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Florence of Worcester (d. 1118) and Henry of Huntingdon (d. approx. 1160), but has since been pushed back to 821 in more modern estimates. Upon King Cenwulf’s death, he left a young son named Kenelm as his heir, a boy reportedly only seven years of age. Unfortunately, the child-king would not have a long or prosperous reign—he mysteriously disappeared mere months after his ascendance to the throne and never returned.

As the boy’s disappearance dragged on, many began to expect the worst. Tragically, the worries of the Mercians turned out to be well founded. After an unknown amount of time, a wanderer found the remains of a young boy in the woods of Clent, and they were soon identified as those of the missing king. Numerous miraculous tales sprung up about how the remains were found. According to Florence of Worcester, the body was discovered after “heaven revealed it by the testimony of a column of light” and “from it a milk-white dove soared to heaven on golden wings” (Chronicle of Florence of Worcester, AD 819). A vastly different tale was recorded in the Golden Legend (Volume IV, c. 1275), in which a similar white dove visited the Papal States and delivered a gold-lettered message to the pope, which supposedly read “In Clent in Cowbage, Kenelm, king born, Lieth under a thorn, his head off shorn” (Golden Legend Volume IV, Life of S. Kenelm). The odd tale continued with the pope delivering the message to his English bishops, who were allegedly able to follow a white cow to the site of the body. Whatever the manner of discovery, the young king’s remains were indeed found, and many believed that divine intervention played a role in the recovery process.

When the remains were located, the head reportedly was visible on the surface, but the rest of the body was buried under the earth. The flesh (or perhaps the bone) of the child-king’s head was reportedly “pure and milk-white as it was at his birth” (Chronicle of Florence of Worcester, AD 819). In the process of recovering the rest of the body, a large hole was excavated. According to the tale in the Golden Legend, the void in the earth filled like a well, and many medieval locals believed that the water collected there had healing properties.

 Although the boy-king’s body was discovered, the cause of his death remained a mystery. The suspicious disappearance, and the separation of the head from the rest of the remains (and perhaps cut marks) led many to believe that foul play was involved. Despite the reality that “heaven alone was witness” to the circumstances of Kenelm’s death (Chronicle of Florence of Worcester, AD 819), the people of Mercia began searching for murderers and assassins who might have wished the boy-king harm. Interestingly, the blame (rightly or wrongly) fell on the regent ruler of Mercia, Ascebert, and Kenelm’s older sister, Quendryth, who were accused of covertly assassinating the king for their own gain. Possibly benefiting from these rumors was a certain Ceolwulf, who became the king of Mercia in 821. Yet, King Ceolwulf I of Mercia soon ran afoul of his people and was deposed in 823.

As for the late Kenelm, the miraculous tales surrounding the discovery of his remains dramatically transformed his legacy. What could have been a gloomy story of a murdered child evolved into a legend of miracles and divine favor. He was soon recognized as a saint and became a highly venerated figure whose saintly feast day and pilgrimage sites were honored by countless medieval Christians.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (scene from A Chronicle of England, illustrated by James William Edmund Doyle (1822–1892), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • The Chronicle of Florence of Worcester translated by Thomas Forester. London: Petter and Galpin, originally published 1854.
  • The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle translated by Benjamin Thorpe in 1861 and republished by Cambridge University Press, 2012. 
  • https://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/basis/goldenlegend/GoldenLegend-Volume4.asp#Kenelm
  • https://archive.org/details/chroniclehenryh00foregoog/page/n179 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Cenwulf
  • https://www.ancient.eu/Kingdom_of_Mercia/  
     
     

Thursday, May 2, 2019

Emma Of Normandy—11th-Century England Incarnate



The Duchy of Normandy was born following the Treaty of St. Clair-sur-Epte in the year 911, when the Viking Hrolf (or Rollo) was bequeathed power in northern France by King Charles III “the Simple”. The new rulers of Normandy adopted parts of French culture, such as Christianity and the vernacular of France, yet they never completely assimilated. Instead, they became something that was not fully French and not fully Scandinavian—they were Norman.

Duke Hrolf’s grandson was Duke Richard I “the Fearless” (r. 942-996). In his day, the link between the Normans and Scandinavia was very much still alive. Richard I married a woman named Gunnor, who was reportedly a Dane. They had several children, the most important being the eventual heir, Richard II, as well as a daughter named Emma.

When Richard II became duke in 996, friendly relations between the Normans and their Scandinavian cousins continued. To the annoyance of Æthelred the Unready (the king of England since 978), Viking raiders who needed a break from pillaging in Britain, or wanted to offload some looted cargo, could quickly find friendly ports by sailing to Normandy. The Anglo-Saxons of England were aware of this and noted it in their records—as in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle entry for the year 1000, where the chronicler explained a lull in otherwise annual Viking raids with the statement, “the hostile fleet was this summer gone to Richard’s dominions” (ASC 1000).

Naturally, the Anglo-Saxons did not appreciate Normandy’s enabling of Viking attacks on Britain, and the king and the duke likely exchanged heated letters to each other through ambassadors. Yet, in 1002, an interesting agreement was reached between the Normans and the Anglo-Saxons—Emma, the young sister of Richard II, would wed King Æthelred the Unready of England.

Born between 985 and 990, Emma would have been in her early teens, possibly as young as twelve, when she was shipped off to England by her brother. Emma, however, did not go alone. She brought with her a sizable retinue of Normans, which at times could look like a private army. Most memorably, her Norman followers caused a stir in 1003, when “Exeter was taken by storm, through the French count Hugo, whom the lady [Emma] had appointed her reeve” (Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 1003). In addition to her Norman retinue, Emma was given large swaths of land (and tax exemptions) by Æthelred the Unready, which would eventually turn the savvy Emma into England’s richest woman. Despite being sent to a war-torn land and forced to marry a man around twenty years older than herself, she was living in luxury.

The marriage between Emma of Normandy and Æthelred the unready was presumably a match meant to reduce the Scandinavian threat to England—with Emma serving as a queen of England, her brother, Duke Richard II of Normandy, would be less eager to help Britain-bound Vikings. Around the same time that the marriage occurred, Æthelred also made a large tribute payment to a group of Scandinavian raiders in order to buy peace. Yet, despite extending these two olive branches, Æthelred himself devastated any chance of ending his Viking problem before the year was even over. In 1002, right after sending tribute money to the raiders and marrying Emma, Æthelred launched the so-called St. Brice’s Day Massacre, in which “the king commanded all the Danish men who were in England to be slain” (Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 1002). For Emma, with a Norman father and a Danish mother, it must have been an awkward time.

In response to the massacre, Danish fleets sent by King Sweyn (or Svein) Forkbeard began relentlessly attacking England, invading almost on an annual basis. Despite this, Queen Emma made the best of her situation. For the sake of the Anglo-Saxons, she adopted the name, Ælfgifu—which curiously was also the name of Æthelred’s previous wife (Ælfgifu of York). Between hearing reports of Viking raids and Sweyn Forkbeard sightings, Æthelred the Unready and Emma managed to have three children together, two sons (Alfred and Edward), as well as a daughter (Goda). Neither of Emma’s sons, however, were Æthelred’s heir apparent. Instead, a man named Edmund Ironside, born from Æthelred’s previous wife, was the nominated successor to the kingdom.

After years of warfare, Sweyn Forkbeard’s wrath proved too much for Æthelred the Unready. By 1013, rampaging Danish warriors forced Æthelred and Emma to flee across the English Channel. While the refugee royals escaped to Emma’s homeland of Normandy, Sweyn Forkbeard and the Danes claimed the throne of England. Sweyn Forkbeard, however, died the very next year and was succeeded by his untested son, Canute. With England and Denmark both showing questionable loyalty to Canute, Æthelred the Unready and Emma were able to return to Britain and claim the English throne in 1014. Yet, Canute—who would later be given the epithet “the Great”—was not one to be underestimated. With an army of loyalists, Canute quickly began marauding through England and encouraging local lords to defect. The warfare lasted until King Æthelred’s death in 1016 and continued into the reign of his successor, Edmund Ironside. The new king was not called “Ironside” for nothing, and, with him at the head off England’s forces, the Danish assault was ground down to a stalemate. Yet, Edmund, too, died in 1016 and Canute subsequently became the king of England.

For Queen Emma, the death of her husband and the rise of Canute was not the end of her political career, but a new beginning. The victorious king fancied Emma (as well as her ties to the Normans) and quickly began courting her. Like the late Æthelred, Canute had a previous wife (who bore him a son named Harold Harefoot), but Canute set the woman aside so that he could marry Emma. Canute and Emma reportedly got along quite well and were married as early as 1017. Children arrived quickly after their marriage—a son named Hardecanute was born around 1018 or 1019, and they also had a daughter named Gunnhild. Unlike in her previous marriage, this time Emma supposedly was given reassurances from Canute that it would be her children (not those of his previous wife) that would succeed to the throne. The agreement, however, extended only to Emma’s children fathered by Canute. Those fathered by the late Æthelred were sent into exile and lived in Normandy with their uncle, Duke Richard II.

Queen Emma’s life with Canute the Great was a wild ride. After seeing to things in England, Canute sailed back to Denmark and asserted his claim over the kingdom between 1018 and 1019. Later, as if England and Denmark were not enough, he usurped power in Norway by deposing King Olaf II Haraldsson (Saint Olaf) in 1028. During this time, Queen Emma was reportedly a trusted advisor to King Canute and also was greatly influential in the life of her son, Hardecanute, even after the boy was sent to be tutored in Denmark and later named the governor or minor king of the region around 1028.

Unfortunately, King Canute the Great died unexpectedly in 1035 and, despite the late king’s supposed assurances to the contrary, Emma’s son, Hardecanute, was not guaranteed succession in England. The aforementioned Harold Harefoot had for years been recruiting a powerful coalition of English thanes and earls while his half-brother, Hardecanute, was away in Denmark. When Canute died, Harold contested the succession and had on his side the majority of England’s lords, of which Earl Leofric of Mercia was his most vocal supporter. In protest, Queen Emma delved into a battle of politics and intrigue to fight for Hardecanute’s claim on England. She recruited the powerful Earl Godwine of Wessex to her side and they managed to keep Harold Harefoot contained to the rank of co-king or regent for a time. While engaged in her political battles with Harold, Queen Emma had some autonomy and was described as being well-guarded “at Winchester with her son’s [Hardecanute’s] ‘hûscarls’” (Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 1036). Yet her position was precarious, and her foe was a worthy adversary in court intrigue.

Earl Godwine was eventually swayed over to the faction of Harold Harefoot and England became an increasingly dangerous place for Emma and her family. Although her son, Hardecanute, had easily claimed the throne of Denmark, Harold was simultaneously tightening his control over English politics. A breaking point was reached in 1036, when Alfred (Emma’s son by Æthelred) returned to England. At that time, Harold Harefoot had such power in the realm that Alfred was quickly arrested, mutilated, and left to die—the gruesome act was reportedly carried out by Emma’s former ally, Earl Godwine. There was no longer any need for Harold Harefoot to pretend to be a co-ruler or regent. In 1037, he proclaimed himself the sole king of England and forced Emma into exile.

Interestingly, Emma chose not to join her son Hardecanute in Denmark, or to visit her other son, Edward, in Normandy. Instead, she reportedly sailed to Flanders, where a certain Count Baldwin gave her shelter. In late 1039, the filial Hardecanute went to meet his mother in Flanders, bringing with him a fleet of around sixty ships. Yet, before Hardecanute and Emma could reroute their fleet back to England, Harold Harefoot died in March 1040. With the throne vacant, Hardecanute was able to become king of England without bloodshed. Nevertheless, he had unfinished business with his late half-brother, so Hardecanute reportedly exhumed Harold’s body and had the remains unceremoniously tossed into a wetland.

With Hardecanute in power, the long-exiled Edward (son of Æthelred and Emma) was allowed to return to England in 1041. He arrived just in time, for Hardecanute reportedly drank himself to death in 1042. With his half-brother dead, Edward “the Confessor” became the new king. Emma, now living once again in Winchester, likely hoped that she could rekindle that mother-son spark with her long-neglected child.  Yet, Emma’s marriage to the Danish king, the more than twenty years absence from Edward’s life, as well as her clear favoritism toward Hardecanute, undoubtedly caused some strain in the relationship between King Edward and his mother. It has also been claimed that Emma withheld support from Edward during his succession to the throne, or possibly backed another candidate. Whatever the case, King Edward was clearly unhappy with his mother’s behavior. In 1043, according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, King Edward “and earl Leofric, and earl Godwine, and earl Siward, with their attendants, rode from Gloucester to Winchester unawares upon the lady [Emma], and they bereaved her of all the treasures which she owned, which were not to be told; because she had before been very hard to the king her son, inasmuch as she had done less for him than he would, before he was king, and also since then” (ASC 1043).

In Edward’s systematic undermining of his mother in 1043, he stripped away much of her land, her wealth and her influence, even momentarily excluding her from his court. The two were eventually somewhat reconciled, but Emma never regained the power she once had. With her political heyday unmistakably over, Emma of Normandy learned to live a quiet life and died in 1052. Edward the Confessor continued to rule in England until he died without an heir in 1066. In the political chaos after Edward’s death, with Norwegians, Anglo-Saxons, and Normans battling for the throne of England, it would be Emma’s great-nephew, William the Conqueror, who would emerge victorious.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Depiction of Queen Emma from a manuscript in the Cambridge University Library, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

Wednesday, January 9, 2019

The Promising Life And Bizarre Death Of King Edmund I Of England



Edmund I was the half-brother and successor of King Æthelstan (r. 925-939). It was a tough act to follow, as Æthelstan was the first king of Wessex to claim authority over the whole of England. Yet, instead of being lost in his brother’s long shadow, Edmund I learned from Æthelstan’s success. He even played a leading role in one of the key events in Æthelstan’s reign—the Battle of Brunanburh (c. 937), in which the forces of England triumphed over a coalition of Britons from Strathclyde, Scandinavians from Ireland and York, as well as the army of Scotland, led personally by King Constantine II. King Æthelstan died only two years after that decisive battle, passing the baton of rule to his eighteen-year-old brother, Edmund.

Although Edmund ascended to the throne of a unified England, he would quickly discover that the north had not lost the will to fight. As soon as news of Æthelstan’s death spread, a man named Olaf Guthfrithson usurped power in Northumbria. The upstart Northumbrian king, however, died in 942. Nevertheless, King Edmund’s problems were not over yet. Although one troublesome Olaf had died, a different Olaf was still causing problems for Edmund. Olaf Sihtricson was the son of a former king of Northumbria. He attempted to wrest his family’s domain back from Edmund and, by 943, went on the offensive by capturing Tamworth. Yet, before the end of the year, Edmund launched his own campaign and had the Northumbrian rebels on the run. Olaf Sihtricson was nearly captured at Leicester and he reportedly allowed himself to be baptized in an attempt to placate King Edmund. The show of religious assimilation supposedly put Olaf and Edmund on friendly terms, but friendship did not stop King Edmund from deposing Olaf Sihtricson and reclaiming Northumbria for England by 944. King Edmund continued his string of victories by conquering Strathclyde in 945.

King Edmund also showed promise in international politics. He gave the freshly conquered region of Strathclyde to King Malcolm I of Scotland in exchange for a military alliance in 945. That same year, Edmund also meddled in French affairs by helping negotiate the release of his nephew, Louis IV of France (r. 936-954), who had been imprisoned by a powerful duke. With a growing network of powerful friends to match his expanding lands, young Edmund seemed to be on the precipice of a golden age. Yet, in 946, Edmund was suddenly and bizarrely cut down at the height of his power.

On May 26, 946, King Edmund was celebrating the feast of Saint Augustine at his estate in Pucklechurch, Gloucestershire. The king had guests over for the event, but one particular attendee present for the festivities had not been invited. His name was Liofa or Leofa, and he had been outlawed or exiled by the king at some time in the past. For unknown reasons, the outlaw decided to crash King Edmund’s party. The medieval sources gave little information as to why he was there and it is vague whether or not Liofa’s actions that day were premeditated or spontaneous. Whatever the case, the king and the outlaw fatefully crossed paths during the celebration. After being discovered, Liofa pulled out a blade and attacked King Edmund. Despite having won many battles and conquered several kingdoms, Edmund could not win in his final struggle against the single outlaw, Liofa. At only twenty-five years of age, King Edmund I was randomly stabbed to death and the crown passed to his brother, Eadred.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Source:
  • The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle translated by Benjamin Thorpe in 1861 and republished by Cambridge University Press, 2012.
  • https://www.britroyals.com/kings.asp?id=edmund 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Edmund-I 
  • http://www.nndb.com/people/761/000093482/ 
  • http://www.englishmonarchs.co.uk/saxon_9.htm 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Athelstan 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Olaf-Guthfrithson 
  • https://www.britannica.com/place/Strathclyde 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Constantine-II-king-of-Scotland 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Louis-IV-king-of-France