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When Rome fell to the sword, its death throes affected more than just the city and its immediate vicinity.  For centuries the Roman Empire had commanded great tranches of Europe, and with its light snuffed out, an age of darkness fell on the lands that had once basked in the Roman sun. Yet though the period between Rome’s fall and the Norman conquest of Britain was riven with conflict, it was not as dark an age as you might at first suppose. Turn the page to begin a journey into an age of drama, adventure, and exploration...

Contents

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6   	Darkness to light Are the stereotypes about the Early Middle Ages true?
8	 	Everything you wanted to know about the Dark Ages but were too afraid to ask Debunking misconceptions about the Dark Ages
14	Last days of the West The earth-shattering collapse of the Roman Empire and its implications for the territories it controlled
20	The Byzantine Empire The Eastern Roman Empire
26 	Rise of the holy empire The role of the Church
30   The Seven Kingdoms The Heptarchy of Anglo-Saxon England
38 	Blood and sea A timeline of the Viking Age
42 	Early Viking raids on Britain From Lindisfarne to full invasion
46 	When Vikings ruled the waves The terror of the Dark Age seas
54 	Lost kingdoms of the Vikings The story of Viking expansion
64 	Charlemagne A powerful ruler emerges
68	Kingdom of the Northmen How Normandy became a formidable power across Europe
72 	Alfred versus the Vikings The war for England
78 	The Danelaw What happened when the Vikings settled in England?
82 	Emperor of the North How King Cnut built a North Sea empire
90 	The queen who ruled kings How Emma of Normandy changed England’s fate
94 	The pious king with no heir Why Edward the Confessor threw England into chaos
98	The last Anglo-Saxon king Harold Godwinson’s short but eventful reign
102 	The last Viking king Harald Hardrada bids to seize the English throne
108 	William the Conqueror How and why the duke of Normandy became king
116 	Clash of crowns 1066 The complex and brutal conflict that shaped the rest of British history
126 	The Norman conquests How the ex-Vikings of Normandy carved out kingdoms across Europe and beyond

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Darkness

to

Light

Are the stereotypes about the Early Middle Ages really true, or a Renaissance-era fiction?

The Dark Ages. The name alone conjures an image of a bloody, brutal world; one where crude peasants dwell miserably in fetid huts until they’re burnt out of their rough villages by a cruel overlord or invading
horde. The Church looks on serenely, interested in nothing more than keeping its flock uneducated enough to lap up its doctrine – so different to the tenets of early Christianity – and keep paying their tithes. But was this really the case?
The term ‘Dark Ages’ is an invention of the 14th century Italian writer Petrarch, who saw in the art and culture of ancient Rome a time of greatness, while his own was an era of “varied and confusing storms”. Subsequent historians took his idea and ran with it. ‘The Dark Ages’ came to signify the entire medieval era, between the end of classical antiquity and its rebirth in the 15th century with the Renaissance.
And yet the Middle Ages wasn’t ‘dark’ at all, just different from the classical era, and today historians try to avoid using the term wherever possible. When the term is used, it’s to describe a very particular era – from the fall of the Western Roman Empire in 476 to the Norman Conquest of Britain in 1066 – in a very particular place: Western Europe. This encompasses Britain, Ireland, modern-day France, modern-day Germany, and parts of Scandinavia. These regions were the western edgelands of the Roman Empire, and when the Great Peace of Rome (the Pax Romana) was withdrawn from these lands they returned to their long history of northwestern cultures moving around and jockeying violently for supremacy. It’s the Romans who told history that the Britons, the Celts, the Saxons, the Franks, the Gauls, the Picts and the Norse were savages, and it’s this Roman-centric idea that informs the concept of a Dark Age, ‘dark’ here being a cipher for ‘not classical’. The cultures of these northwestern Europeans were in fact rich and vibrant and gave us many of the things we associate with the flowering of the High Middle Ages: Epic poetry, jurisprudence, parliamentary debate, stylised art, exceptional craftsmanship, knightly virtue, courtly love. It was during the Dark Ages – also known as the Migration Period – that Europeans first visited the shores of North America.
A key force in early medieval western Europe were the originally-Scandinavian Vikings. Their quest for wealth, for farmland, and for adventure, saw them traverse the remains of ancient Rome and reshape its northwestern remnants, along with themselves. They went into the Dark Ages as one of the savage hordes of classical nightmare, forged a North Sea empire, expanded its boundaries south and east, and ended this eventful era in the pan-European light of Norman civilisation.

Left
Western Europe was more volatile after the end of the Pax Romana due to territorial disputes

Above
In western Europe during the Early Middle Ages more people lived and worked in the countryside than in towns and cities
right
The Early Middle Ages is stereotyped as a time of despair and darkness

“It’s the Romans who told history that the Britons, the Celts, the Saxons, the Franks, the Gauls, the Picts and the Norse were savages”

The so-called Dark Ages were local to western Europe. At the same time elsewhere in the world, the Middle East and southern Spain were experiencing the scientific revolution of the Islamic Golden Age, Japan and China were enjoying the cultural flowering of the Heian period and the Tang dynasty, the wealthy African empires of Mali, Ghana and Songhay were flourishing, and the Byzantines were stealing the secrets of silk from the Far East.

Images; Adobe Stock;  ALamy

Everything you wanted

to know about

Dark

The

Ages

But were too afraid to ask

What were the Dark Ages exactly?

The ‘Dark Ages’ is a term that is now widely considered to be archaic and inaccurate. It has long been believed that Europe went backwards technologically, culturally and socially after the fall of the Western Roman Empire in the 5th century, hence why this era has been labelled ‘dark’. Another reason for this unflattering nickname is because of the lack of documentation from this time. However, new research has exposed this interpretation of the era as barbaric and uncivilised as being entirely unfair. Historians now prefer to label it the Early Middle Ages or Early Medieval era, leaving behind the incorrect connotations of darkness. Some see the Dark Ages as ending with the advent of the Medieval Warm Period in the year 900, but others see it as having lasted until the Norman Conquest of Britain in 1066 as we have done here.

The known world didn’t just fall to its knees immediately after the fall of the Roman Empire. Here’s what really happened in the Dark Ages

How quickly did the Roman Empire crumble?

The saying goes that Rome wasn’t built in a day, and it definitely didn’t fall in a day either. The one-time capital of the Roman Empire was assaulted numerous times and its fall was a gradual economic and social degradation of a once all-conquering force, not a single one-off catastrophic event. The closest there is to one single key moment is the sacking of Rome in 410 by the Visigoths, when the Eternal City was plundered by the foreign invaders. At this time, the empire had already been split into two and Constantinople was now the most prosperous of the Roman cities. The Western Roman Empire limped on until 476 when the final emperor, Romulus Augustus, was forced to abdicate by Odoacer, who would become the first Gothic king of Italy. Meanwhile, the Eastern Roman Empire, or Byzantine Empire, flourished until 1453 but did not make many significant territorial gains in Europe and instead branched out into Asia Minor and North Africa. Meanwhile, western and central Europe were now divided and dominated by warring factions such as the Visigoths, Slavs, Ostrogoths, Vandals, Angles and Saxons. To many historians, this signalled the beginning of the Dark Ages, but was it as ‘dark’ as we’ve been led to believe?

Images; Adobe Stock;  Getty

Did the Catholic Church prevent any advancement of knowledge?

The fall of the Roman Empire and the contraction of Celtic lands paved the way for Christianity to dominate Europe. Paganism was still common, but where the Church was dominant, it took control of not just religion but also philosophy, morals, politics, art and education, and has long been criticised for stunting the progression of knowledge in the era with its strict rules on learning. Bishops and priests only taught the upper class how to read and write Latin, and so the main flaw in this system was that the lower-class peasants, and nearly all women, were turned away from any educational opportunities, not that no one at all was being taught.
In the 9th century, Charlemagne, ruler of the Carolingian Empire, decreed that every cathedral should have its own school of learning, as he realised education was the key to power. Ultimately, the Church didn’t prevent the advancement of knowledge, it just persuaded people to play by its rules, which slowed but did not nullify the progression of thought. There was some tension with so-called heretics but this would be more prevalent in the later Middle Ages and Renaissance. The idea that the Church prevented free thought and learning is primarily misinformation spread from the 18th-century period of Enlightenment.

“Charlemagne decreed that every cathedral should have its own school of learning, as education was key to power”

Is it true that no one lived in cities?

With hindsight, it’s easy to believe that the fall of Rome signalled the end of civilised urban centres and the beginning of a war-torn, barbaric Europe. The city of Rome was a shadow of its former self and had not been the capital since the empire split. Despite this move away from the historic centre of the Roman Empire, cities like Ravenna and Florence still functioned and maintained at least part of the splendour they had during the days of empire. It’s true though that many did embrace a more nomadic lifestyle – the Huns being an obvious example, sweeping in from Asia in 445. Led by their infamous leader Attila, their vicious attacks prevented significant settlements arising in eastern Europe for centuries. Their tactic of destroying everything in their path rather than constructing settlements was a key reason for the lack of cities in central and eastern Europe. The same could be said for the Vikings in northern Europe, but despite their penchant for pillaging, they did construct long-term sites. Back on the continent, the majority of the Germanic hordes had a habit of only sticking around to build forts, not towns for trade and commerce. With all the fighting going on, it did take time for cities to be built up. By the 13th century, cities such as London, Paris and Cologne had all become important centres for trade and commerce, making them thriving residential areas.

Did people really only eat bread and gruel?

Dark Age cuisine gets a bit of a bad reputation, especially when compared to the glorious banquets put on by the Romans, but it wasn’t all just stale bread and gruel. The access to food all depended on wealth, but for the most part even the poor had at least some access to meat including cows, horses, goats and pigs, as well as being able to fish for cod, haddock, pike and perch. The staple foods in Britain were eggs, bread, porridge, cabbage, turnips and cheese, so the cuisine was by no means completely bland or diseased; it just depended on how good the harvest was that year.

Did everybody believe that the Earth was flat?

Let’s debunk a myth: the Catholic Church never taught the idea that the Earth was flat. In fact, there is no evidence at all to suggest that people in the Dark Ages ever believed that this was true.

Were there any
developments in
medicine at all?

The Church’s encouragement of praying for cures hindered disease prevention, and it was a commonly held belief that ills were punishments from God. However, there was progress even if in some cases it was down to luck and superstition rather than knowledge. Remarkably, it has recently been found that a 10th-century Saxon treatment for treating eye infections is still useful today. Scientists have tested the remedy and found that the mix of onion, garlic and cow’s bile can completely kill the MRSA superbug. Further east, the Islamic Golden Age was also developing its own medical breakthroughs including the building of hospitals and the idea of record keeping, which would greatly help the understanding of what causes disease.

Images; Adobe Stock;

Last Days

West

The earth-shattering collapse of the Western Roman Empire was the result of invasions, corruption and cruelty

Throughout history, the fall of mighty empires has rarely played out as an instantaneous and devastating collapse, and the demise of the Western Roman Empire was certainly no different. Pinpointing a precise start date for the empire’s decline has proven to be a difficult and contentious task, with many historians pointing the finger of blame at Emperor Caracalla’s decision to grant all free men within the empire citizenship in 212 CE, thereby removing the main incentive to join the Roman legions and consequently starting a downward spiral that would see Rome forevermore struggling to field adequate armies.
Of course, it is too simplistic to apportion the responsibility for the fall of the Western Empire to one single factor, for there were many reasons for its gradual disintegration. By the time of Emperor Avitus’ ascension to power in 455 CE, Rome had been sacked twice, once by the Visigoths in 410 CE and then again in the year of Avitus’ coronation by a rampant horde of Vandals.

Main
In 410 CE, the Visigoths succeeded in sacking Rome, becoming the first army to do so in eight centuries
BELOW
Recalled as the only able Western emperor of the 5th century, Majorian sought to defend the rights of his provincial subjects

Images; Alamy; Adobe Stock; Source: Wikipedia COmmons/Public Domain

Conscious of his somewhat tenuous grip on power, the newly appointed Avitus moved quickly to appoint a comes (count of the empire) by the name of Ricimer, a general of Germanic descent who would play a major role in the rise and fall of several emperors. Yet the title bestowed upon him by Avitus was not as glamorous as it had previously been, for by 455 CE the once enormous sphere of Roman influence had deflated to such an extent that it now only encompassed a scattering of regions in southern Gaul and the Italian Peninsula itself. It was an empire that Avitus would not rule for very long.
Despite managing to secure an – admittedly doomed – truce with the Vandals during his first winter at the helm, the strength of this agreement was found wanting in Marc 456 CE as the Germanic ‘barbarians’ resumed hostilities in the south of Italy. Avitus’ failure to completely stem the Vandals’ incursions was compounded by the Visigoths’ progress in Hispania. The Gaulish ruler of Rome was struggling abroad, and it wasn’t long before his domestic unpopularity finally made his position untenable.
Never slow in seizing an opportunity, Ricimer moved quickly to topple Avitus, who was roundly loathed by Rome’s hungry population (a combination of the Vandals choking off Rome’s imports and the foreign troops that had accompanied Avitus resulted in food shortages in the wake of the city’s destruction). The general’s machinations inevitably spurred Avitus to retaliate, but his hopes were to be dashed. Heading an enormous force, Avitus marched to confront Ricimer’s own army near Piacenza in northern Italy, only to witness the destruction of his host. With no option but to flee, Avitus is thought to have died during the first month of 457 CE while en route to the safety of Gaul, possibly on the orders of the man who would succeed him, an ally of Ricimer’s in the rebellion called Majorian.
By the time of Majorian’s coronation in December 457, the Roman Empire was spiralling terminally towards its demise, a monumental yet gradual collapse resulting from numerous overlapping factors, a primary one being continuous barbarian invasions.
In its prime, the empire had often crushed such uprisings with relative ease, but conquest and consolidation cost the empire vast sums of money – funds that, as time went by, could no longer be supplied in the form of war booty. Instead Rome’s leaders had to look closer to home, taxing the wealthiest of its citizens in a desperate bid to support and shore up a failing military machine.
This necessary measure inevitably alienated the city’s monied inhabitants, many of whom resorted to leaving Rome in order to keep hold of their wealth. When coupled with rampant corruption within the Senate and the inevitable decline in slave labour that accompanied the empire’s halting expansion, this widespread avoidance of tax only served to weaken an already financially shaky empire at a time when enemies such as the Huns, Goths and Vandals were strengthening, the latter of which had inflicted a chastening lesson on Rome in 435 CE when they began to settle across North Africa, a development the Romans were powerless to stop. If the empire was going to survive, this vital region would have to be reclaimed, a goal that Majorian quickly set his sights on.
A leader who sought to curtail the financial deviance so damaging to his beleaguered realm, Majorian took his administrative obligations as seriously as his military ones, yet he is best remembered for his martial efforts. Intent on resurrecting Rome’s crumbling empire, Majorian swiftly smashed an Alemmanic (German tribe) invasion before storming into Gaul in 458 and putting King Theodoric II’s Visigoth force to the sword at the Battle of Arelate. Success in Hispania would follow for an emperor described by many scholars as brilliant in every respect. However, glory in the field of battle would prove elusive just when Majorian needed it most.
Hungry to reclaim the precious resources of North Africa, Majorian had wisely accrued a fleet of 300 vessels with which to transport an invasion force across the Mediterranean and onto the shores of the former Carthaginian Empire. Sadly for the ambitious emperor, he would never even get the chance to attempt a crossing, for his entire fleet was destroyed while anchored off the coast of Hispania by men in his own ranks who had treacherously accepted payment from the Vandals to betray Rome.
Crushed by this astounding reversal, Majorian soon made for Rome. Upon reaching the city he must have been startled to be arrested by none other than his old ally Ricimer. His incarceration was tortuous but brief, for five days later Majorian was beheaded on 7 August 461 CE. Yet again, the empire was in need of an leader.
A brief jostle for power ensued as Emperor Leo I of the Eastern Empire sought to promote a candidate of his choosing, but Ricimer would triumph in the end with the eventual appointment of Libius Severus, a man who would rule (under the watchful gaze of Ricimer) for four years before he died of natural causes.
Thankfully for the Western Empire’s cause, this period of unrest between both halves of the empire wouldn’t last, with the ascension of Anthemius as emperor in 467 CE, an elevation that pleased both Ricimer and Leo I. However, while the two realms worked to come together again, the differences between them were many and stark.
While its sibling struggled with numerous issues, the Eastern Roman Empire went from strength to strength as the 5th century wore on. Blessed with greater financial resources than the West, the East was better placed to bribe ambitious barbarian leaders, which it did successfully when it came to keeping the ruthless Attila the Hun at bay. By contrast, the West suffered greatly at the hands of Attila prior to his death in 453 CE, both indirectly due to the sudden influx of refugees that poured across the Roman borders as the Huns rampaged across Europe, and as a direct result of his invasion of northern Italy.
If gold didn’t prove sufficiently enticing to ward off an invasion, the East – again, thanks to its wealth – could rely on a stable standing army to defend it (not to mention the imposing walls erected to protect Constantinople, a fixture that thwarted Attila’s efforts to take the city),

“By 455 CE the sphere of Roman influence had deflated, only encompassing a scattering of regions”

Left
The disastrous Battle of Adrianople dealt the Romans a blow they would never truly recover from, culminating in the death of Emperor Valens
far Left
The Western Roman Empire as its greatest extent

King Geiseric led his Vandal hordes into Rome in 455 and laid waste to the city for a fortnight

Rome’s kingmaker

Born in 405 CE to Rechila, a member of the Germanic Suebi tribe and king of Galicia, a region in what is today northern Spain, and his wife, a daughter of the king of the Visigoths, Flavius Ricimer would grow into a ferociously ambitious young man who refused to allow his barbarian lineage to hold him back.
It is estimated that Ricimer began his service to the Roman military in the early 420s. He would rise rapidly through the ranks, befriending a future emperor in a man called Majorian and raising his own forces in the mid 450s with which to crush the Vandals in two key engagements. Both of these victories came in 456 at the battles of Agrigentum and Corsica – achievements that gained him heroic status back in Rome.
With glory on the field secured, Ricimer turned his attention back to Rome’s political scene, aiding his former comrade Majorian in toppling Avitus and stealing the throne. Unable to rule due to his background and Christian faith, Ricimer determined to take a slightly subtler route to power, controlling a number of Western Roman emperors for almost 20 years, during which time any incumbent ruler who displeased him quickly found themselves removed from power – violently.

Images; Source: Wikipedia Commons - Ichthyovenator/CC BY-SA 4.0 (map), Getty Images (King Geiseric x2); Alamy

above
Odoacer triumphantly rides into a humbled Ravenna (by then capital of the Western Empire) as Romulus bows to Italy’s conqueror
Below Right
Majorian lost 300 ships at the Battle of Cartagena in 461, an act of betrayal that prevented Rome from retaking North Africa

something that only served to encourage invading tribes to turn their attentions to the weaker West. Of these tribes, the Vandals proved to be a thorn in Roman sides, and the situation was no different for Anthemius.
By 468 CE, Anthemius was a year into what was turning into a promising reign. Supported by both the ever-present Ricimer and his counterpart in the East, Leo I, Anthemius enjoyed cordial relations with the other half of the empire, a unity that resulted in both sides determining to work as one to finally put an end to the Vandal presence in North Africa.
Led by Basiliscus (Leo I’s brother-in-law), an armada of about 1,000 ships set sail for what is today the coast of Tunisia with a vast army of both Western and Eastern Roman troops on board. Yet while this new invasion force would better Majorian’s in actually making landfall, their hopes of victory were dashed just as brutally at the Battle of Cape Bon.
Alert to the real and pressing threat to his empire, King Geiseric sent forth a wave of fireships into the Roman ranks before unleashing his own fleet, causing truly catastrophic losses of 10,000 men and 100 vessels. In one fell swoop, the Germanic ruler and one-time sacker of Rome extinguished the last remaining hope of survival for the Western Roman Empire.
Bereft of the resources offered by its former African territory, the beleaguered empire soon found maintaining its armed forces a far heavier burden, one made no easier to bear in 470 CE when a force commanded by Anthemius’ son failed to make any headway against the Visigoths in Gaul. With the south lost and Rome’s grip on the western provinces loosening, Anthemius’ reign appeared doomed, and it was little helped by the Senate’s suspicions of a ruler of Greek birth. Even the once-guaranteed support of Ricimer could no longer be relied on.
In 472 CE the opportunistic general moved against his former friend by declaring Olybrius (a man close to Leo I) as the new emperor of the West following tensions with Anthemius. This inevitably sparked open war between forces loyal to the emperor and those beholden to Ricimer. The conflict culminated in a savage engagement in Rome in which Anthemius’ troops were scythed down en masse by a barbarian army that showed no mercy. Clemency was not even afforded to Anthemius, who, having scrambled to the ‘safety’ of a church, was arrested and executed. No doubt pleased to have yet again bested a political rival and secured power for his chosen candidate, for once Ricimer had played the wrong hand. Olybrius (who was deemed an illegitimate ruler by an outraged Eastern Empire) would only last for seven months before he passed away from dropsy. He was soon followed into the afterlife by Ricimer, the indomitable military powerhouse eventually laid low by a haemorrhage in 472.
Olybrius was succeeded four months after his death by a Dalmatian called Glycerius at the behest of Gundobad, king of the Burgundians and nephew of Ricimer – a second affront to the East. Without the backing of Ricimer and aware of the East’s refusal to accept him, Glycerius made overtures to Leo I in a bid to heal the rift between the empires. His olive branch was snapped and thrown back in his face with force as Leo, by now hugely unpopular due to his banning of non-religious festivals in the East, not only nominated Julius Nepos as emperor of the West, but then proceeded to send a fleet to invade Italy and claim the throne. This was one of the last acts of Leo’s reign, as dysentery claimed him that year, putting an end to a reign that had begun in 457 CE.
As the husband to Leo I’s niece, Nepos had extremely close ties to the Eastern emperor’s court, which explains why he was Leo’s preferred choice to replace Glycerius in the summer of 474. Nepos’ fleet duly made for Ostia (near to the port of Rome) in June, landing on Italian soil at a time when Glycerius was hopelessly exposed (his master, Gundobad, had returned to Gaul to rule his kingdom in Burgundy). The hapless usurper had little choice but to quit the city, but he was soon unearthed. Nepos displayed remarkable restraint upon his rise to power, choosing to nominate his predecessor as a bishop instead of having him put to death, an act of kindness that he would one day come to regret.
Nepos’ reign would prove to be as short-lived as his new bishop’s, but before he was toppled by his own magister militum (a senior commanding officer in the Roman military), Orestes, he first had to suffer the ignominy of acknowledging the Gothic kingdom that had been established in Gaul. The fact that he had no alternative but to do so is testament to how feeble the empire had become by 475 CE.
Having been ejected from office in August by Orestes, Nepos escaped to his native Dalmatia to ‘rule’ at a distance. In truth he was emperor in name alone – as was ever the case in Ancient Rome, he who controlled the military also held the empire. In this case it was Orestes, a former servant of none other than Attila the Hun.
Despite his sudden and public deposition at the hands of an adviser he should have been able to trust, Nepos would survive until 480 CE. Sources suggest that he was stabbed to death in his own villa, either by friends of a vengeful Glycerius (to whom Nepos owed his life) or on the direct orders of Odoacer, the man who would finally end Rome’s rule of Italy.
Unusually for the age, Orestes decided not to rule himself, instead opting to crown his 15-year-old son Romulus Augustus as the new leader of a rapidly disintegrating Western Roman Empire in October 475 CE. His public reluctance to claim the throne for himself was merely an act; as father to the emperor and head of the military, he reigned from the shadows. His lust for power fdoomed his son to an ill-fated reign set to end in disaster.
Mocked as ‘Augustulus’ (Little Augustus), history has often judged Rome’s last Western emperor harshly, forgetting that he was a teenager forced into office by a father hungry to rule a shattered empire at a time when the formerly stable East was tearing itself apart in a power struggle.
Crowned in February 474 CE by his seven-year-old son as co-emperor, Zeno ruled as emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire until he was betrayed by a close advisor and Basiliscus (the same man who was so roundly beaten at the Battle of Cape Bon). At the time of Romulus’ rise to power, Zeno – who, along with his bitter rival for the throne, refused to accept Romulus as emperor in the West – was plotting what would turn out to be a successful return to Constantinople.
The extent to which Romulus was aware of the troubles in the Eastern Roman Empire is unclear, but he had little time to consider its ramifications – rebellion was well and truly afoot in his empire. Emboldened by the knowledge that the West was ailing, a confederation of Germanic tribes led by a formidable warrior named Odoacer decided to test the strength of Orestes’ resilience by demanding that one-third of Italy should now be handed over to them.
When Orestes promptly rebuffed their ‘offer’, Odoacer ignited a vicious uprising during which a rag-tag army led by Orestes was slaughtered outside the city of Placentia (modern-day Piacenza) before their leader was executed. With the empire decapitated by Orestes’ death, Odoacer was free to march on Ravenna in northern Italy, where on 2 September 476 CE his mercenary hordes once again capably set about annihilating a weakened Roman army.
With nothing left standing between him and Odoacer’s rampant army, young Romulus had no choice but to bend the knee to Italy’s new conqueror and surrender the throne. In a matter of weeks, Odoacer had violently ended 1,200 years of Roman mastery of Italy, and in doing so he struck a final, fatal blow from which the Western Roman Empire would never manage to recover. The once-great empire was at an end.

Odoacer: First king of Italy

Believed to have hailed from the eastern-Germanic Scirii tribe, Odoacer was born in 435 CE. It was by this time Roman custom to provide foederati (barbarian regions loyal to Rome) with various benefits in return for their military aid, evidence of how weak the empire had become. As such, Odoacer journeyed to Italy in around 470 to serve in the Roman army.
His career fighting for the failing empire, which began during the rule of Anthemius, lasted for around six years; sufficient time to rise to a position of command. By 476, Odoacer clearly felt he and his troops were due some reward for their efforts on Rome’s behalf, and initially Orestes, who had recently installed his son Romulus, promised to grant the barbarians under Odoacer the territory they demanded. However, he unwisely chose to renege on this deal, unleashing an uprising that would prove the death of the Western Roman Empire.
During his reign as king of Italy, Odoacer enjoyed martial success, conquering the independent region of Dalmatia after a two-year campaign. He would rule until 493, when he fatefully accepted an invitation to a banquet held by King Theodoric, who had been nominated as king of Italy in 488 by the Eastern Roman emperor Zeno in a bid to depose Odoacer. Ignoring all the rules of hospitality, Theodoric broke bread with his rival before killing him with his own hands by cleaving his enemy in two.

In spite of how he came to power, sources suggest that Odoacer enjoyed the full support of the Roman Senate

Above
Anthemius was appointed as emperor by Leo I in a move that removed him as a candidate for the throne of the Eastern Empire
Right
Prior to his death in 473, Leo I appointed his seven-year-old grandson Leo II as his heir

Images; Alamy (ship, Anthemius), Getty Images (Odoacer x2), Source: Wikipedoa Commons / Marie-Lan Nguyen/CC BY 2.5 (Leo I)

Byzantine
Empire

The dramas of the Eastern Empire were a match for anything that the West had been able to offer

In 968 CE, Liutprand, bishop of Cremona, undertook a challenging diplomatic mission to Constantinople. He was far from impressed by the treatment he received and the people with whom he had to deal. He complained that the local wine was undrinkable and that his lodgings lacked both fresh water and a roof. As for the Byzantine emperor, well, he was a brute.
Nicephorus II, according to Liutprand, was a “monstrosity of man”, full of ignorant opinions and as ugly as sin. He was “fat-headed and like  a mole as to the smallness of his eyes… one whom it would not be pleasant to meet in the middle of the night.” The people, in contrast, seemed to adore their emperor, though they were really just a “plebian, barefooted multitude”. When Nicephorus paraded through the city, the crowds would shout out in adoration. What they really should have been saying, Liutprand suggested, was “you burnt-out old coal, you fool… you goat foot”.
Liutprand claims to have found none of the glamour that was supposed to define the Byzantine court. The food was lousy, the clothes were third-rate, and the hospitality extended to visiting dignitaries was atrocious. This, it is fair to say, was an unusual response. Visitors usually raved about how beautiful and civilised Constantinople was, about the cultural riches and the elaborate ceremonies of the city.
Perhaps Liutprand was simply in a bad mood. Or perhaps Constantinople was just going through a bad patch since, just a few decades earlier, Liutprand had been involved in another mission to the Byzantine court and appears to have had rather a jolly time. Constantine VII had been a much better host and Liutprand wrote of the “marvellous and unheard of manner of our reception”. The place was filled with gorgeous thrones, bronze lions and mechanical animals. Dinner was served in huge golden bowls covered with purple cloth, and when being introduced, Liutprand was carried into the emperor’s presence with great solemnity on the shoulders of eunuchs. The empire, as always, had its ups and downs: a defining characteristic of Byzantine history.
The phrase ‘Byzantine’ only began to be commonly applied to this mighty civilisation

The Byzantine Empire

Images; /CC BY-SA 3.0 (mosaic); Adobe Images

Picturing Jesus

Concern about the portrayal of holy subjects was particularly keen in the Eastern Christian churches. Matters came to a head in the 8th century when Emperor Leo III ordered a wide-scale destruction of religious images. Riots ensued and many of the protestors were whipped, exiled or mutilated. Art was burned and, as one contemporary lamented, churches were “scraped down and smeared with ashes”.
These events provoked uproar in the Western Church, and many angry letters were passed between popes and emperors. Images, as Pope Gregory II explained, were of great value because they could instruct the illiterate. Empress Irene approved the use of images in 787. Emperor Theophilus reversed her decision early in the next century, ordering artists to destroy or spit (quite literally) upon their works, inflicting harsh punishments on those who would not comply. An artist named Lazarus was subjected to “such severe tortures that his flesh melted away” and when he stubbornly began work again, following his recovery, red hot irons were pressed into his hands, maiming him. Happily, by the mid 9th century, the turmoil came to an end and religious art was once again sanctioned in Eastern churches.

right
The mighty walls of Constantinople that repelled many a would-be invader through the centuries
below left
The Lamentation; just the sort of image that infuriated the iconoclasts
below right
Michael VIII Palaiologus managed to retake Constantinople in 1261 following the sack of the city in 1204

during the 16th century, but it represents a very different, but no less colourful, period in the history of the Roman Empire. And make no mistake, while the empire in the East had its share of unique characteristics – the use of the Greek language and the forms of religious devotion, for example – the emperors were always adamant that they, and they alone, were the true successors of earlier rulers in the West.
Though Constantinople had been an important city since the 4th century, it entered its heyday following the fall of the Western Roman Empire in 476 CE. The territories over which it ruled came and went with alarming frequency – indeed, the extent of those territories was something of a geopolitical seesaw – and there would be both gifted and atrocious rulers. But Constantinople was mighty. It was blessed by its location on vital trade routes and, however hard Byzantium’s enemies tried, the city’s famously robust walls rarely succumbed to their onslaughts. As one historian put it: “You can’t have a century without a couple of sieges of Constantinople.”
But it was only with the advance of the Ottomans in the mid 15th century that the empire finally came to an end. By then, 1,000 years of triumphs and tribulations had passed. Along the way, the empire had fostered some of the most spectacular artistic and cultural achievements the world had ever seen.
The story began well, under rulers such as the hard-working Anastasius I (r.491-516 CE), an able administrator, but grander dreams had not evaporated. Could the Western Empire, or at least some of it, be reclaimed? Enter one of Constantinople’s most famous rulers, Justinian, during whose reign (527-565) the great military leader Belisarius and his colleagues managed to seize parts of Italy, North Africa and southern Spain. The financial cost was exorbitant, but the boost to morale was perhaps a price worth paying.
Less satisfactory were the attempts to battle Persia, Byzantium’s traditional enemy, and, distracted by adventures in the West, the empire failed to rebuff encroachments by the Slavic peoples. Justinian also found time to codify law to reduce the risks of arbitrary justice; his efforts would be reflected in the legal systems of dozens of countries for centuries. He even found time to transform the empire’s financial fortunes by introducing the production of silk. Indian monks smuggled in the eggs of silkworms and an irksome dependency on bought-in silk was cast off.
Less happily, Justinian’s reign also witnessed an early example of just how febrile Byzantine politics could become. The Nika Insurrection of 532 CE was one of the bloodiest events in the empire’s history. Chariot racing was a favourite pastime in Constantinople, with four leading teams and their supporters each sporting a particular colour: the blues and the greens were top of the tree. More was at stake than exciting recreation. The different groups would attempt to influence religious and political affairs and had a bad habit of engaging in street violence. In 532, Justinian’s refusal to extend a full pardon to two of the leaders of the blues and greens led to a week-long orgy of riots, house-razing and arson. Thousands were killed and as much as half of the city lay in ruins and rubble.
This almost got Justinian deposed, but he weathered the storm and set about rebuilding the city. Unfortunately, almost all the territorial gains he had made in the West were lost under his successors and the Byzantines’ central dilemma had come into sharp focus. It was surrounded on all sides by enemies and for the next millennium, a ludicrous number of conflicts would have to be fought. The Sassanid War in the early 7th century drained the imperial coffers, with the Persians keeping up the pressure and deploying the sneakiest of tactics.
Emperor Maurice (reigned 582-602) had been an ally of the Persian ruler and when Maurice was killed by the ambitious military leader Phocas, Persia swore to avenge his death. But this was merely an excuse for intervening in the Byzantine Empire’s politics. A decades-long war ensued, with the Persians managing to reach the gates of Constantinople. The pretense of good intentions soon evaporated and before long, the Persian ruler was describing the Byzantine emperor as his “vile and insensate slave”.
Matters improved greatly under Heraclius (r.610-641 CE), who secured a famous victory over the Persians at the Battle of Nineveh in 627. Even his enemies had to concede that he was a ferocious warrior. As a Persian ruler once put it: “He fears these arrows and spears no more than would an anvil.” At this very moment, however, the rise of Islamic power in the Near East was in full flow and, due to their financial weakness, both the Persian and Byzantine Empires were vulnerable. During the 7th and 8th centuries, Byzantium would lose Armenia, Syria, North Africa and, most devastatingly, the economically crucial Egypt. Affairs at home were hardly any rosier, with the disruptive quarrel over religious icons creating havoc from the reign of Leo III (r.717-41 CE) through much of the 8th and 9th centuries.
The arrival of the Macedonian dynasty (867-1056) represented another turning point, at least at first. Its founder, Basil I (r.867-886), managed to regain substantial territories but, as so often, his immediate successors squandered his legacy. Lands were lost and, throughout the period, Egypt was never reconquered. It also proved difficult to retake Jerusalem, which provoked a rather famous series of events known as the Crusades – though all the troops that flooded in from the West over the next few centuries were chiefly concerned with asserting their own interests and had no great desire to see the city being placed back in Byzantine hands.
The Macedonian period – particularly during the 10th century under the rule of Constantine VII (r.913-959) – did, however, represent one of the high watermarks in Byzantine cultural achievement: the Macedonian Renaissance. Perhaps no artefact better encapsulates this era’s artistic achievements than the so-called Joshua Roll, which depicted the biblical tale in an exquisite 11-foot parchment roll that demonstrates a spare but intoxicating use of colour.
One military superstar also emerged in this period: Basil II (r.976-1025), who managed to claw back Greece, the Balkans, Syria and Georgia. But as sure as eggs is eggs, new foes emerged. The Normans assaulted the empire’s Sicilian outposts and, during the reign of Romanos IV Diogenes (r.1068-71), the Seljuk Turks inflicted a devastating defeat on the empire at the 1071 Battle of Manzikert. The whole of Anatolia would be lost in the wake of this crushing blow.
Yet again, however, Byzantine fortunes were rekindled with the arrival of a new dynasty: the Comnenid. Its greatest glories, under rulers such as Alexios I (r.1081-1118) and the unusually charitable and lenient John II (r.1118-43) lay in the realm of culture and the arts, but some progress was made on the territorial and military fronts. But, of course, they were followed by a run of some spectacularly incompetent emperors.
By now, the West had lost much of its respect for Byzantium: indeed, ever since the Frankish ruler Charlemagne had been declared as the Holy Roman Emperor and the true successor to Rome in the 9th century, that respect had been steadily fading away. Nor did the great schism between the Eastern and Western Churches in 1054 – stemming from a confusing blend of theological differences – do much to improve relations. The spectacle

“Losing control  in such a way almost got Justinian deposed, but he weathered the storm”

Above LEft
Belisarius, Justinian’s bold general, would remain a favourite figure in art through the centuries
Right
John II Comnenos, known as John the Good, was an unusually kindly emperor

Images; Source : Wkipedia Commons - Argos’Dad/CC BY-SA 3.0 (Constantinople); Public Domain

The Slayer of the Bulgars

The Byzantine Empire produced many military giants,  but few could match Emperor Basil II

Basil II was only five when he came to the throne in 976 CE, with his mother acting as regent. He was soon asserting himself, however, and his eventful reign witnessed its share of pretenders and coup attempts. He survived them all.
Basil was not a particularly friendly man and was known for his gruffness and ascetical temperament. But while he was not especially likeable, he garnered a good deal of respect. His military successes were largely to thank for this.
His campaigning began badly when his armies were thrashed by the Bulgars at a mountain pass, but things soon looked up. From 997 CE he embarked on a series of epic conquests in Greece, the Balkans and Syria, and eventually served up revenge to the Bulgars at Kleidion in 1014. Following the battle, thousands of enemy captives were blinded or mutilated; within four years, Basil had secured complete control of Bulgar territory. Further successes followed in Armenia, and Basil’s tomb said it all: “No one saw my spear lie idle.”

Left
The preaching of the Fourth Crusade, which would unexpectedly bring disaster to Constantinople

of a pope and a patriarch of Constantinople mutually excommunicating one another would leave religious scars that endured for centuries. A republic such as Venice was simply waiting for an opportunity to enter the Byzantine sphere of influence and it came, perhaps rather surprisingly, courtesy of the Crusades.
Faced with threats from the east, the Byzantines were always hopeful of support from the West, but things went horribly wrong in 1204. A fourth Crusade was launched at the beginning of the 13th century and the original plan was for the crusaders to stop off at Constantinople en route, help restore an emperor, and receive financial and military support in return. Everything went swimmingly for a while, but when the restored emperor Alexios IV (r.1203-04) was killed, the empire was unable to honour its commitments and the enraged crusaders launched an assault on the city.
Following a siege, the city was sacked and, as once contemporary put it, the “tumult and noise were so great that it seemed as if the very earth and sea were melting together”. Western control of Constantinople was established, the empire’s territories were divided up between the Western powers and, over the following decades, Byzantine emperors suffered the indignity of ruling in little more than name from exile. Three so-called successor states, all claiming to continue the authentic Byzantine tradition, fell into competition.
The tables turned under Michael VIII Palaiologos (r.1259-82), who retook Constantinople in 1261. But, as ever, new threats and challenges were on the horizon. The 14th century proved to be one of the worst in Byzantine history, with an absurd number of imperial depositions and civil wars. Into the bargain, the rise of the Ottoman Turks placed the empire in great jeopardy: for periods it was forced to become a vassal state of the Ottomans. Truly embarrassing incidents came thick and fast – the need to pawn the imperial crown jewels in 1343, or John V (r.1341-76) being detained for a spell as a debtor on a trip to Venice. Ultimately, in 1453, the death knell sounded.
Under Mehmed II, the Ottomans captured the city of Constantinople itself. The rich millennium-long drama that was the fabled Byzantine Empire had all but come to an end. Only the Trebizond Empire, based around northern Anatolia and the Crimea, remained. It had always claimed to be the heart of the true Roman Empire, denouncing Byzantium’s audacity, but it, too, was snuffed out by the Ottomans in 1461.
It’s impossible to deny just how muddled and horrific Byzantine history could sometimes become: a tale of coups, pretenders and internecine strife. The list of usurpations and vengeful treatment of political rivals is almost absurd – Constantine III being poisoned, Justin II going mad, Constantine VI being blinded. Not to mention Michael V’s castration, the lynching of Andronicus I, or the sons of Romanos I Lecapenos deposing their father and shipping him off to a monastery to live out his days.
Restraint was rarely shown by the warring factions that jockeyed for power. Following the death of Heraclius, Constans I emerged victorious from the power struggle in 641 CE and behaved as any self-respecting Byzantine would when it came to his rivals for the throne. Heraclius’ widow, Martina, had her tongue cut out, and his son, Heraclonas, had his nose chopped off. Both were then banished to the island of Rhodes.
The uncertainty of succession in the empire created many difficulties. It was not a simple father-to-son affair. An ambitious soldier could easily seize power and even those of the humblest origins had a shot at the top job. This, in a way, was meritocratic, but if an emperor failed to live up to expectations, his days were always numbered.
The wonder, though, is that through all this, the Eastern Empire usually retained its prestige and its economic power. The borders might shift, but a Byzantine solidus was a coin accepted across Europe and beyond. And let’s not forget the astonishing cultural and artistic legacy – from art and literature to science and philosophy.
Nothing sums this up more elegantly than Hagia Sophia, the church that Justinian built and then rebuilt. As the ancient scholar Procopius explained, the emperor brought in “workmen from every land” and the results were “distinguished by indescribable beauty, excelling both in size and in the harmony of its measures”. “No one,” Procopius announced, “ever became weary of the spectacle.”
Edward Gibbon, the great 18th-century historian, famously denounced the Byzantine Empire as a place of over-indulgence and petty infighting. It was, he wrote, a Roman Empire “contracted and darkened”, akin to the mighty Rhine ending in a trickle, losing itself in the sands before reaching the ocean. But there was a good deal more to the story than that.

“The rich millennium-long drama that  was the fabled Byzantine Empire had all but come  to an end”

Above
Basil II in full conquering mode

Bowing and curtseying

Political life in the Eastern Empire may have sometimes been chaotic, but it was always regulated by intricate rules and rituals

Byzantine emperors were obsessed with every detail of courtly life and protocol. Precedence and status were everything, as reflected in the 10th-century De Ceremoniis, or Book of Ceremonies, produced under Constantine VII.
Readers were instructed about precisely what should happen at religious events, feasts, coronations, marriages and celebrations of military victories. Rubrics concerning the reception of ambassadors and the appointment of officers were also explained. Strict pecking orders were established: how the leaders of other nations should be addressed, what clothes officials were entitled to wear, and what titles were to be used.
At the core of all this was the concept of order, taxis, which the Byzantines believed set them apart from barbarian disorder, or ataxia. Overseeing this were the emperors, who almost always erred on the side of autocracy, demanded total power in religion and politics, and expected complete deference. Stressing this image always made excellent sense for a subject who sought favour or advancement. One text happily played by the rules: “God has raised you, our reverend lord, to the throne of kingship and made you by his grace as you are called, a terrestrial God, to do and act as you will.”

right
The coronation of Constantine VII – a typical example of the Byzantine love of ritual and ceremony
below
Constantinople’s stunning Hagia Sophia, built between 532 and 537 CE

Images; Source: Wikipedia Commons: Arild Vågen/CC BY-SA 3.0 (Hagia Sophia): Public Domain

Rise

of
the

Holy Empire

The dominant institution in the lives of kings and peasants alike, the Church promised heavenly salvation to all yet frequently delivered earthly schism

Roman-style churches of the Early Middle Ages were dark and gloomy. Thick, small-windowed walls were needed for roof support

For the majority of the population in western Europe, life in medieval times was unremittingly grim and frequently short. Death was a constant shadow; if poverty, famine or pestilence didn’t carry you off, there were plenty of warmongering emperors and kings looking for battlefield expendables. Yet one organisation offered some semblance of reassurance that everything was not forlorn or futile – the Church.
Its message was simple: no matter how horrible a life was on Earth, if the person living it followed the teachings of Christ, a heavenly reward was assured. Conversely, living a sinful, wicked life meant being cast down into hell for eternity. The hope of salvation or the expectation of damnation gave the Church considerable power over the hearts and minds of people. It dominated the lives of rich and poor alike, essentially from cradle to grave, in that baptism, worship, marriage, and burial after death most usually took place either in holy establishments or on hallowed grounds.
The Church was one of the few outlets for education too. There weren’t many people in the Middle Ages who were able to read and write. Those that could were often priests, monks in monasteries or nuns in convents, who naturally taught from their own religious texts, perpetuating those beliefs.
To be a Christian in western Europe in those times was to be a Catholic as, unlike today, it was the only religion of the period that believed in the risen Christ. As the conversion of pagans to Christianity spread across Europe through the early centuries, so the Church grew in numbers and influence. It acquired lands, developed its own laws and collected taxes. Its centre was Rome at the heart of the Western Roman Empire, while at its head was the pope, believed to be a successor of Saint Peter, the founder of the Catholic Church.
Other important early outposts were at Constantinople, Jerusalem, Antioch and Alexandria, all in the Eastern Roman Empire, which was also known as the Byzantine Empire. While this contracted or expanded over the centuries, remaining relatively intact until 1453, Rome stayed the primary centre of the Catholic Church despite the collapse of the Western Roman Empire in 476. The spread of Christianity continued apace after this date, however, even into areas that had been beyond Roman control previously. Key groups of pagans, such as the Franks in Germany who converted en masse in

Rise of the holy empire

The Crusades

Despite the recent East-West schism in Christianity, the leader of the Byzantine Empire, Alexius I, requested help from Pope Urban II in resisting Muslim incursions into his territory. Urban decided to do more than ‘help’; in 1095, he ordered a large invasion force to not simply defend the Byzantine Empire, but to recapture Jerusalem and the Holy Lands from what he saw as Muslim occupiers. The Crusades had begun.
Definitions vary, but generally there are considered to have been nine major Crusades fought between 1096 and 1291, in addition to an unnumbered series of smaller ones. Ultimately, they all failed. The first, instigated as a Christian war by Urban, who proclaimed it offered full penance for those taking part, may also have been an attempt by him to heal the divisions of the recent schism. However, subsequent crusades aggressively attacked other religions besides Muslims. Even fellow Christians fell to Crusader swords when Constantinople was attacked in the fourth endeavour. As they descended further into indiscriminate slaughter of innocents, the papacy lost moral authority and European Christendom unity suffered.
Nevertheless, contact with the advanced Muslim culture of the time delivered advances in science, mathematics, medicine, philosophy and art to the West.

Images; Getty: Source: Wikipedia Commons / Public Domain

496, regularly turned to Catholicism. Some time in the second half of the 5th century, Saint Patrick landed in Ireland to introduce Christianity there. In 596, Pope Gregory I, often known as Saint Gregory the Great, sent a mission to Britain to convert the Anglo-Saxons – pagan tribes who had invaded and settled after the Romans had left – with great success.
Yet as the area of Catholic influence and power in western Europe grew, to the extent that no king or emperor could ignore it, invasions into its sphere from hostile tribes nevertheless took place. In 772, for example, the pagan Lombards marched deep into papal territory, threatening Rome. The pope at the time, Adrian I, called for help from the king of the Franks, Charlemagne. By that time, he had expanded his territory to include modern-day France, Germany, Northern Italy and beyond. Charlemagne’s army swiftly defeated the Lombards, underlining the role of the Franks as papal protectors.
Under Charlemagne, the Catholics were also ruthless in forcing conquered tribes to embrace Christianity or be put to death. At Verden, Saxons who had previously submitted to Charlemagne attempted to rebel. This act incurred biblical-level wrath from the Frankish king when he had 4,500 of them to be beheaded as a consequence.
In 800, a subsequent pope, Leo III, called for Charlemagne’s support when he was accused of being unfit for papal office. Entering Rome in December, Charlemagne backed Leo, and the plotters were exiled. In gratitude, and in acknowledgment of the leader’s importance, on Christmas Day at Saint Peter’s Basilica, Leo crowned Charlemagne emperor of what would later be known as the Holy Roman Empire.
At the time, this caused no small amount of resentment in the Eastern Roman Empire. There, Irene of Athens, the de facto empress of the Byzantine Empire, already had claim to that title. Yet this was just one of a number of contentious issues between the two regions. Matters really came to a head some 200 years later. By then, the Latin-speaking West and the Greek-speaking East contained very few individuals who could speak and write both languages. As basic communication became more difficult, cultural unity suffered too, giving rise to different approaches to religious doctrines. One such doctrine concerned the filioque clause in the Nicene Creed, and that, along with a dispute over the extent of papal authority, were the two principle reasons for the event known as the Great Schism of 1054.
The Nicene Creed is the statement of faith made by Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox and other Christian churches. It was named after the First Council of Nicaea, held in 325, when the statement was formulated. Its wording was revised after the First Council of Constantinople in 381. The third Ecumenical Council in Ephesus in 431 reaffirmed the Creed in its second format, but specifically forbade making any further alterations to it.
However, after the Synod of Toledo in Spain in 589, Western churches included the filioque clause, which translated from Latin means ‘and the son’, to a section of the Creed. The amended section now stated, “We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son.” Eastern churches were categorically opposed to that inclusion.
The extent of papal authority also greatly vexed the Eastern Roman Empire. They accepted that the head of the Roman Church, the pope, had primacy over the other four early Church outposts in the east, but maintained this was at an honorary level only, and that he had no direct authority over them, or their congregations.
Ultimately, centuries of dispute and rancour fuelled by political jealousies and vested interests came to a head in 1054. Mutual excommunications served by the pope, Leo IX, and the head of the Church in Constantinople, Michael Cerularius, led to a formal split. The Roman Catholic Church became separate from the Eastern Orthodox Church along doctrinal, theological, linguistic, political and geographical lines.
Several attempts at reconciliation were made, but during the Fourth Crusade in 1204, Constantinople was attacked by Western Crusaders. The Church of the Holy Wisdom there was looted, while it and other churches were converted to Roman Catholic worship. The assault struck at the heart of the Byzantine Empire, deepening the rift between East and West. Each side claims to be “the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church,” and the schism remains in place.
Another crisis, often confusingly also referred to as a Great Schism, began in 1378. More accurately it was a Great Papal Schism, and occurred after Pope Clement V moved his court to Avignon in 1309. Previous popes had clashed with Philip IV, the increasingly influential King of France, and when Clement, a Frenchman, took office, he refused to move to Rome. Subsequent popes, all French, remained in Avignon until Pope Gregory XI took the decision to return his court to Rome in 1377. However, he died barely a year later, with a number of his cardinals still resident in Avignon.
Many in Rome feared Gregory’s successor would be a Frenchman who would take the papacy back to Avignon. A confused, discordant conclave finally chose an Italian, Urban VI, as the new pope. Yet he quickly lambasted the cardinals for their behaviour and attitudes to the extent that some believed, corrupted by power, he was unfit for office. With French cardinals needing little enough excuse to rebel, they declared Urban’s election invalid. Instead they voted for one of their own number, Clement VII. He took up office in Avignon while Urban stayed in power in Rome. Clement naturally had the support of France, Castile in Spain, and Scotland. Predictably perhaps, France’s old enemy England sided with Urban, along with much of the German empire. Christendom was divided yet again.
Upon the death of the incumbents, new popes were elected to both seats of power. The situation got messier when, in 1410, a Church Council Of Pisa, assembled to find a solution, instead elected a third line of popes beginning with Alexander V.
It was not until the Council Of Constance, from 1414-18 that a solution was finally reached. The council was summoned by Alexander’s successor, John XXIII, and at it, he himself was dismissed. So was the final Avignon pope, Benedict XIII, while Rome’s Gregory XII resigned. The council then elected Martin V to be the sole pope. There was to be but a short respite from schism in the Church. Barely 100 years later, the radical priest Martin Luther set in motion the Protestant Reformation.

Timeline

The medieval Church

Left
Charlemagne And The Pope, by Antoine Verard

Monasteries
and convents – as nuns took the same vows as monks – offered health services, taking care of the sick

Defining moment
The venerable Bede 735
The death of Saint Bede brings to an end the life of an important 8th-century scholar and writer. A Benedictine monk, his works include books on science, religion and history. Bede’s Ecclesiastical History Of The English People will become one of the foremost primary sources of English history. Chronicler monks like Bede allow monasteries in the Middle Ages to become centres of learning. There, libraries of painstakingly hand-written volumes – with book printing being more than 500 years away – are assembled. Without such endeavour by people such as Bede, we would know far less about the history of the period.

Defining moment
Murder most foul 1170
A group of knights brutally slay the archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket, at the altar of Canterbury Cathedral. King Henry II is suspected of inciting the murder even though Becket was formerly his friend. The monarch had previously appointed him chancellor, and as archbishop as well; he hoped Becket would keep the church in check. Yet the ‘turbulent priest’ put Church before king and refused to implement Henry’s religious reforms. The clash between church and state brings about Becket’s death. Later, Henry is penitent, while reports of miracles at the victim’s tomb are spread, and pilgrimages to it begin, leading to Becket’s sainthood.

597

A key conversion Clovis I, the first king of the Franks to unite the Frankish tribes under one ruler, converts to Christianity, allowing for widespread conversions  among his people.

Holy mission Sent by Pope Gregory I, St Augustine leads a party of about 30 monks to England and becomes the first archbishop of Canterbury after founding the English Catholic Church.

1008

1054

Converting a 			continent
Sweden’s king converts to Christianity and his people follow. After Russia converts in 988, Poland in 966, Denmark in 960 and Bulgaria in 846, much of Europe is now Christian.

Christianity torn asunder Leo IX’s death in April doesn’t stop his deposition, carrying a papal bull of excommunication, travelling to Constantinople. Meetings with patriarch Michael Cerularius fail, the bull is severed – Rome and Constantinople irrevocably divide.

1099

To The Holy Land
The First Crusade captures Jerusalem. Briefly a Christian kingdom is founded upon it, but Jerusalem is retaken by Saladin in 1187 and the last Crusader stronghold, Acre, is lost in 1291.

Right
An anonymous depiction of Pope Martin V. His election ended the Great Papal Schism

Defining moment
The pre-eminent pope 1198
Innocent III takes office and faces numerous crises, yet he handles each of them shrewdly, leading many to argue he is the most important pope of the Middle Ages. In his dealings with the Papal States, and with the crowned heads of Europe, he raises his position’s power and authority to its height. Angered when the Fourth Crusade diverts to sack Constantinople, moving to excommunicate those responsible, he is nevertheless unable to undo the harm it causes to East-West relations.In his later years he presides over the important Fourth Lateral Council, which introduces far-reaching reforms to Church practices.

“The extent of papal authority greatly vexed the Eastern Roman Empire”

1210

1260

1309

1455

1498

A new order The Franciscan Friars are founded by Saint Francis, a rich man who gave his fortune away to live a holy life. The order forsakes monasteries, taking God’s word out to the people.

As it was then… Mostly constructed in the preceding 65 years, the Chartres Cathedral is consecrated. The magnificent structure, largely unchanged since consecration, is one of the finest examples of French Gothic architecture.

All roads lead  to Avignon The reign of  the Avignon-based popes begins. Sometimes called the ‘Babylon Captivity of Popes’, it leads to the Great Papal Schism, which is not resolved until Martin V’s ordination  in 1417.

Spreading God’s word
Employing a system of moveable metal type arranged in words and lines, Johannes Gutenberg prints copies of the Bible. Printed in Latin, it is the first book to be mass-produced in the Western world.

Upheaval ahead
Italian friar Savonarola is put to death after heavily criticising the Church for laxity and luxury, yet others, such as Martin Luther, are also set to challenge Catholicism as never before in the tumultuous times ahead.

Images; Getty;Source: Wikipedia Commons / Public Domain

Seven

Kingdoms

The distribution of
the kingdoms of the
Anglo-Saxons and  the Britons

Out of the chaos of the end of an empire, seven kingdoms emerged, known as the Heptarchy

Britain was a very different place after the Roman legions left in 410 CE. With the breakdown of the centralised Roman administration, the country dissolved into petty kingdoms, many now completely lost to memory, contending with each other for short-lived dominance. Into this mix came the Anglo-Saxons, sailing over the North Sea and using the rivers and estuaries of east and south Britain as their highways into this new country where they were carving out kingdoms. Roads were few and often dangerous. The sea and rivers provided much surer and safer means of travel. These bands of warriors established new kingdoms and brought their families over the North Sea to join them, but they fought as enthusiastically among themselves as they fought with their British neighbours.
Slowly, the smallest kingdoms were swallowed up, incorporated into larger realms and as a victorious king could give more gold and glory to warriors who came to his court, this process became self-reinforcing, leading to the gradual amalgamation of all the smaller kingdoms until there were seven, and finally four, Anglo-Saxon kingdoms in England.

The Seven Kingdoms

Northumbria

Above
Bamburgh Castle, the ancient stronghold of the Idings. St Oswald’s Gate preserves some of the Anglo-Saxon defences
LEft
The exquisite art of the Lindisfarne Gospels is the product of one man’s labour, Eadfrith, Bishop of Lindisfarne

The realm of heroes and saints

The clue is in the name; Northumbria was the Anglo-Saxon kingdom north of the Humber. At its peak it was the largest and most powerful Anglo-Saxon kingdom and it is the best recorded kingdom up to the 8th century. Northumbria demonstrates in its history the consolidation of smaller kingdoms into larger polities, for it came about through the forced union of Bernicia, with its royal stronghold at Bamburgh, and Deira, centred on the old Roman city of York.
According to the surviving king lists, Bernicia was founded in 547 by Ida – hence the kings of Bernicia were called the Idings – when he captured Bamburgh. For half a century, the Idings fought to retain their precarious hold on the coast, until an alliance of Brittonic kings drove them from Bamburgh on to Lindisfarne. On the point of extinction, the Idings were saved when one of the besieging kings took the opportunity to assassinate his rival. The siege dissolved into recrimination, the Idings escaped and re-established themselves on Bamburgh.
Soon after this, circa 593, Æthelfrith took the throne and proved to be one of the most successful warrior kings of the time, dealing a number of devastating defeats to the Britons and forcibly amalgamating the kingdom of Deira into Bernicia to create Northumbria. Under his leadership, Northumbria became the most powerful kingdom in Britain and, though Æthelfrith was killed in battle in 616, Edwin, the man who succeeded Æthelfrith, consolidated the kingdom’s power and expanded its territory. Edwin also became the first northern Anglo-Saxon king to convert to Christianity, but before he could cement the new religion’s place in his kingdom, Edwin too was killed in battle.
After a chaotic interregnum, Æthelfrith’s son, Oswald, returned from exile to claim the throne. A devout Christian, Oswald brought monks from Iona to preach the new religion, who founded a monastery on Lindisfarne. Northumbrian power continued to expand under Oswald’s brother and successor, Oswiu, and also during the reign of Oswiu’s son, Ecgfrith. But, in 685, the Northumbrians suffered a catastrophic defeat at the hands of the Picts. Ecgfrith was killed and much of the Northumbrian army destroyed. The battle stopped further expansion north by the Northumbrians: the birth of Scotland can be traced back to this Pictish victory.
While Northumbria declined militarily after Nechtansmere, the 8th century saw a cultural flowering that produced, among many wonders, Bede’s History and the Lindisfarne Gospels. The Viking invasion of the 9th century divided Northumbria again, with a Viking kingdom established at York but an English earldom retaining Bamburgh and Bernicia, cut off from the rest of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms until the unification of the country by Æthelstan the Glorious in the 10th century.

Images; Adobe Stock; Alamy;

Mercia

The Mercians took their place in the heart of the country and fought to keep it

For nearly 300 years, Mercia was the most powerful of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms. When Ecgfrith, king of the Northumbrians, was killed in 685, Mercia filled the power vacuum, coming to dominate the land south of the Humber, with only the kingdom of Wessex holding out against Mercian hegemony. But of the three major Anglo-Saxon kingdoms – Northumbria, Wessex and Mercia – the history of Mercia mostly comes from the pens of its enemies. Most notable among these is Bede, a proud Northumbrian, who despite the otherwise broad sweep of his History, treats the Mercians pretty well only as antagonists.
The name Mercia derives from Mierce, an Old English word meaning the ‘marches’ or ‘border people’, and that is what it was when first settled: the border kingdom between the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms of the south and east and the Britonnic kingdoms of the west and north. These people settled in the Midlands, following the river valleys into the heart of the country. The king lists of the Mercians traced their lineage back to Icel, an Anglian prince who settled in Britain, giving the ruling family the name Iclingas.
However, the first king to be reliably recorded is Penda, the great enemy of the kings of Northumbria, who killed two of them (Edwin and Oswald), as well as three kings of East Anglia. Penda was the last great pagan king of the Anglo-Saxons and when he fell in battle with Oswiu, Oswald’s brother and successor as king of Northumbria, the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons to Christianity was guaranteed.
Mercia and Northumbria continued to struggle for dominance until, with the death of King Ecgfrith in 685, Mercian supremacy was assured. It reached its height during the reign of King Offa in 757-96, when Mercian power encompassed the whole country and Offa could deal, almost as an equal, with no less a king than Charlemagne. The power Offa wielded is given earthen form in the vast labour required to build Offa’s Dyke.
Mercian power declined after Offa’s death and was dealt a terminal blow with the arrival of the Great Heathen Army in 868. The Vikings deposed Burgred, king of the Mercians, in 874 and installed a puppet king in his place. Following the victory of Alfred of Wessex over the Vikings, Mercia was divided, its northeast half becoming part of the Danelaw and its southwest portion being ruled by an alderman owing fealty to Alfred. Even following the reconquest of the Danelaw by Alfred’s children and grandson, Mercia remained part of the expanding kingdom of the men who came to see themselves as not just the kings of the West Saxons, but the kings of the English.

“The Mercian king Penda was the last great  pagan king of the  Anglo-Saxons”

Above
The vast labour involved in digging Offa’s Dyke shows the manpower and organisation available to the kings of Mercia
Left
The Staffordshire Hoard, which was found in Mercia, shows how great the material wealth of an Anglo-Saxon kingdom was

Far left
Alfred is the only king in our history to be given the appellation ‘Great’. He merited it
Left
Æthelstan the Glorious, grandson of Alfred the Great and the first king of England

Wessex

The last Anglo-Saxon kingdom became the first Kingdom of England

Of the three major Anglo-Saxon kingdoms – Northumbria, Mercia and Wessex – the latter was the last to achieve prominence, but the kings of Wessex eventually became the rulers of a unified England. However, there was little to suggest their eventual status in the founding of Wessex.
As with the other kingdoms, the king lists go back to a founder, Cerdic, from whom the ruling dynasty drew its legitimacy, but there is little to prove that the kings who came after Cerdic, the Cerdicings, were actually related to their supposed forebear. According to the account in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Cerdic landed on the Hampshire coast with five boatloads of men in 495 CE, establishing a kingdom on the south coast and gradually expanding inland and to the west. However, Cerdic is a Celtic name, not a Germanic one, so some scholars have speculated that the early rulers of Wessex were of Anglo/British stock.
Wessex expanded west, at the expense of the Britonnic kingdoms, while its northern expansion was checked by the increasing power of the Mercians: the River Thames marked the boundary between the two. During the 8th century, when Mercian supremacy was at its height, Wessex retained its independence to a greater degree than most other kingdoms, while its kings continued to push west, subjugating the Britonnic kingdom of Dumnonia (Devon) by early in the 9th century.
In 851, a Viking army landed in Wessex but was decisively defeated at the Battle of Aclea. So when the Vikings returned in 865, the Great Heathen Army avoided the kingdom of the West Saxons. It was only when the other three major Anglo-Saxon kingdoms had been subdued that the Great Army turned its attention to Wessex, the last kingdom. Sitting uncomfortably on its throne was a young man named Æthelred, who proved far more ready than his infamous descendant, with his younger brother, Alfred, as his chief commander. At the Battle of Ashdown in 871, Æthelred and Alfred inflicted the first significant defeat on the Great Army and the Northmen withdrew.
But Æthelred did not long survive the victory, which left his young brother, Alfred, the last king of the Anglo-Saxons. There were no other viable claimants. Remove Alfred, and the last kingdom would fall. Which was precisely what the Danes attempted to do, launching a midwinter raid into Wessex that caught Alfred completely by surprise. Fleeing into the marshes of the Somerset Levels with a handful of men, Alfred left the Vikings in control of the last kingdom.
But Alfred returned, defeated the Danes at the Battle of Edington, one of the most crucial battles in English history, and set about remaking his kingdom to reconquer the country. Under the remarkable leadership of Alfred’s son and daughter, Edward and Æthelflæd, who became the effective ruler of Mercia, the Danelaw was reconquered and it was Æthelstan, Alfred’s grandson, who united England under his leadership. The king of the West Saxons was now the king of England. It was an extraordinary achievement by an extraordinary family.

Images; Source - Wikipedia Commons / Staffordshire hoard / Raymond Perry ; Getty; Alamy; Adobe Stock

Above
Knowing he could not defeat the Great Heathen Army, King Edmund offered himself as a sacrifice to save his people
Left
A reconstruction of the helmet excavated at Sutton Hoo

The Kingdom
of the East Eagles

The riches of Sutton Hoo show the wealth of an Anglo-Saxon kingdom

On 14 June 1939, light broke into the darkness that had shrouded the so-called Dark Ages for centuries. Archaeologist Basil Brown opened the burial chamber of the great ship burial at Sutton Hoo. Over the next weeks, archaeologists discovered the extraordinary riches that a Dark Age king could command. That king was probably Rædwald, the first king of the East Angles of whom we know anything more than a name.
The people who settled in the land almost cut off from the rest of country by the Fens were Angles, split into the North Folk and the South Folk (names that continue as Norfolk and Suffolk), and the kings of the Angles traced their lineage back to one Wuffa, making them Wuffingas (‘sons of the Wolf’). Rædwald became king of the East Angles in the early 7th century as the power of Æthelfrith of Northumbria was steadily growing. However, the two kingdoms were separated by the Fens and the kingdom of Lindsey (another Anglo-Saxon kingdom roughly corresponding to Lincolnshire, that is not numbered among the Heptarchy although it probably should have been), so Rædwald was happy to give sanctuary to a fugitive Northumbrian prince, Edwin. But when Æthelfrith learned Edwin had taken shelter with Rædwald he sent a series of messengers, bearing increasingly explicit threats, demanding Edwin’s head. Rædwald vacillated, then decided to fight. Together with Edwin, he defeated and killed Æthelfrith, installing Edwin on the throne of Northumbria and becoming himself Bretwalda, the pre-eminent king in Britain, until his death circa 626. His successors fought a series of campaigns to retain their independence from the rising power of Mercia, campaigns that usually ended with the East Anglians having to find a new king. The East Anglians continued to kick against Mercia throughout the 8th century and managed to regain independence in the 9th century, only to be conquered by the Great Heathen Army in 869.
The last independent king of the East Angles was Edmund the Martyr, venerated after his death by the newly Christian children of the Vikings who had killed him. These Christian Vikings, who had settled in East Anglia, created the shrine of Bury St Edmunds to commemorate an Anglo-Saxon king.

The Kingdom of Kent

This was where, according to tradition, the first kingdom  of the Anglo-Saxons was established

The kings of Kent were not Angles or Saxons – they were actually Jutes, from the north of the Jutland Peninsula. The social organisation of Kent was significantly different from those of the other Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, with only one class of noble as opposed to the two in other kingdoms, while Kentish peasants (ceorls) were also more important than those in the other kingdoms.
According to tradition, the first kings of Kent were the brothers Hengist and Horsa, mercenaries for hire who were invited to Britain by Vortigern to fight against the Picts raiding down the east coast following the collapse of Roman power. In the declining years of the Western Roman Empire it was not at all unusual for barbarian mercenaries to be hired to fight barbarian raiders, so there’s nothing intrinsically unlikely about the tale. It was, however, later embroidered to include details such as Vortigern becoming infatuated with Hengist’s daughter Rowena and signing over Kent to her father in return for the daughter.
It’s only with the long reign of King Æthelberht that historical evidence for the kingdom emerges. The kings of Kent maintained close relations with the Merovingian kings across the Channel, trading widely with them and, as a result, having greater wealth at their disposal than the other kings in Britain. It was this wealth that gave Æthelberht the political clout to be regarded as Bretwalda and it enabled his marriage to a Frankish princess, Bertha. Bertha was Christian, however, and the marriage was contracted on the basis that she would be allowed to remain so.
In 599, Æthelberht received a mission of Italians, coming all the way from Rome, that was led by a monk called Augustine who had been dispatched by the pope to convert the pagan Anglo-Saxons. Æthelberht accepted the new religion, and installed Augustine at Canterbury, making the church there the mother church of the country. Kentish dominance did not survive Æthelberht, though, and while the kingdom remained rich, there was savage internecine strife in the ruling family. Thus weakened, in the latter part of the 7th century Kent came under the domination of Mercia, which continued off and on until the rise of the West Saxons in the early 9th century, when the kingdom became part of Wessex. As such, Kent played a key part in Alfred’s struggle against the Vikings, coming to the fore in the Viking attacks during the 890s, the last decade of Alfred’s reign, when the threat of the Northmen was broken for a century.

Top
Æthelberht, king of Kent from c.589 to 616 CE
right
King Vortigern striking a deal with a band of Germanic mercenaries that he would come to regret

“The first kings of Kent were the brothers Hengist and Horsa, mercenaries for hire who were invited  to Britain”

Images; Adobe Stock; Getty; Source: Wikipeida Commons / Saforrest

Sussex

Sandwiched between Kent and Wessex, with Mercia bearing down from the north, Sussex struggled to survive

Although included among the Heptarchy, the history of the Kingdom of the South Saxons is obscure and its status more a product of being included in the list of main Anglo-Saxon kingdoms produced by the 12th-century historian Henry of Huntingdon than any real claim to eminence among the kingdoms of the Anglo-Saxons. However, despite its perilous position between Kent and Wessex, with Mercia threatening from the north, the kingdom of Sussex retained its independence longer than other similarly sized kingdoms, such as Lindsey, only finally submitting to the rule of the kings of Wessex in 827.
According to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, the kingdom was founded by Ælle in 477 CE when he landed with his three sons and three boatloads of warriors near Selsey. The kingdom followed the pattern of gradual expansion against Britonnic resistance, although the archaeology of the area suggests that Saxons had settled in Sussex before Ælle’s arrival, possibly originally coming as paid mercenaries in the service of the Roman Empire to man the forts of the Saxon Shore. This was a series of strongholds and ports that the Romans established to guard against barbarian raiders.
The kingdom comes briefly into the light of history in the second half of the 7th century, when the baptism of its king Æthelwealh is recorded. Æthelwealh’s sponsor and godfather was Wulfhere, the king of Mercia, and as a baptismal gift, Wulfhere gave Æthelwealh the Isle of Wight and the Meon Valley. Standing as godfather to another king was both an act of spiritual brotherhood and political mastery – a mastery emphasised by Wulfhere’s giving of land as gift: Æthelwealh was very much the junior of the two monarchs.
However, although Æthelwealh had become a Christian, his people had not. Their conversion, the last of the major Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, waited upon the rain. Wilfrid, the most tumultuous of Northumbrian bishops, had been deposed from his throne by King Ecgfrith and exiled to Sussex. Arriving in the midst of a severe drought, Wilfrid brought the rain. The South Saxons, abandoned by their gods, accepted Wilfrid’s offer of a new god, an offer Wilfrid sweetened by throwing in lessons on new methods of fishing that helped alleviate the effects of the famine the drought had brought. Sussex became a client kingdom to Mercia in the 8th century when Offa was supreme, but by 825 it had been subsumed into the kingdom of Wessex.

Right
Ælle, the semi-legendary first king of the South Saxons
Below
Wilfrid receiving a grant of land from the king

“As a baptismal gift, Wulfhere gave Æthelwealh the Isle of Wight and the Meon Valley”

Essex

The kingdom of the East Saxons spread through Hertfordshire and included the land of the Middle Saxons (Middlesex)

The history of the kingdom of the East Saxons is as obscure as that of the South Saxons. Its origins probably lie in the 6th century, when Saxons settled in the flat lands north of the Thames. However, even the king lists for the East Saxons are late, from the 9th century, with some disagreement about the dynasty’s founder. Kings Æscwine and Sledd are separately credited as the first king in different genealogies, although the one listing Æscwine first works Sledd in as his son and successor.
The kingdom grew by agglomerating small tribal groups, eventually encompassing the modern county of Essex as well as parts of Hertfordshire and the now lost county of Middlesex. London was under the control of the kings of the East Saxons in the 7th century, when the first attested king is recorded. His name was Sæberht and in 604 he was baptised, with King Æthelberht of Kent standing as his godfather.
Pope Gregory’s initial plan had been that Britain should have two metropolitan sees, in London and York, corresponding to the administrative centres of the old Roman province. However, having established his bishopric in Canterbury under the protection and sponsorship of Æthelberht of Kent, Augustine could not move to London. He did, however, send Mellitus to London as its bishop, where he founded the first St Paul’s on the site of the present cathedral. However, when Sæberht died, his three sons, who had remained pagan, expelled Mellitus, apparently over his refusal to give them communion without their first being baptised, and the bishopric lapsed. The conversion of the kings of the East Saxons continued back and forth over the next generation, with another pagan succeeding the three brothers after their death in battle. Then followed King Sigeberht II, who converted to Christianity under the influence of King Oswiu of Northumbria, only to be murdered by two brothers who disapproved of the novel approach King Sigeberht was taking to rule: he was forgiving his enemies rather than going the usual route of killing them.
In the 8th century, Essex fell under the control of Mercia, then was subsumed into the kingdom of Wessex in 825, only to become part of the Danelaw as part of the treaty signed between Alfred and Guthrum. Essex was conquered by Edward the Elder, Alfred the Great’s son, in 917, and duly became part of Wessex as that kingdom expanded towards becoming a newly unified country: England.

Above
A stone in St Augustine’s Abbey, Canterbury, marking the grave of Mellitus, first bishop of London
Left
The old St Paul’s Cathedral, destroyed in the Great Fire of London, stood on the site of the Anglo-Saxon church first raised by Mellitus

Images; Adobe Stock; Getty; Wikipedia Commons / Ealdgyth / Public Doamin

Charlemagne

The ‘father of Europe’ and ruler of much of France and Germany, Charlemagne made his name as a king but left a legacy as the first Roman emperor since the 5th century

Over 300 years, Europe had fallen into darkness. With the power of the Pope and the once mighty Roman Church beset by enemies, the legacy of the Western Roman Empire toppled as steadily and as surely as the Caesars had themselves, stability withdrawing like overstretched legionnaires and knowledge fading away like the crumbling Roman roads that cross-hatched the continent.
Europe needed a strong leader to pull it back from the precipice, and it got a brace of them in the form of the Carolingian dynasty, a family of self-made kings who stabilised their lands by force, expanded their frontiers with terrifying aggression and ensured the primacy of the Christian Church. Yet, through this crucible of violence emerged a western Europe reforged to survive another 1,000 years.
By the 6th century, most of what is now France, western Germany, Switzerland, the Netherlands and Belgium was inhabited by the Franks, a Germanic tribe split into several small kingdoms that had rushed into the power vacuum left by Rome. These petty principalities had been united not by their monarch – the rois fainéants, the ‘do-nothing kings’ of the Merovingian dynasty, had been increasingly sidelined by their own ministers – but by the Mayor of the Palace, the executive of the royal administration who was half-prime minister and half-Shogun-esque warlord.
Pepin of Herstal had warred his way to stability between 680 CE and his death in 714 CE, bringing the other Frankish lands to heel and taking Christianity to their furthest and most pagan reaches. His son, Charles Martel, was a stronger hand yet. Though Pepin had nominated his grandson as successor, Charles – born out of wedlock and excluded from the court – was having none of it, and took the not-quite-throne by force. Despite not being Pepin’s choice of heir, he more than honoured his father’s vision, expanding the centralised control of the Frank lands and extending his rule further into what are now modern Holland, Denmark and Germany with a formidable standing army and revolutionary use of heavy cavalry, the foundation of Europe’s knights. He defeated the pagan Saxons in the east and halted the advance of the Moors – the North African and Spanish Muslims of the powerful Umayyad Caliphate – who attempted to follow up their conquest of Spain by pushing across the Pyrenees mountains into France. ‘Charles the Hammer’ was even offered high office by the Pope, which he declined, but it was an auspicious omen of his grandson’s own journey to come.
Succeeding his father Pepin the Short in 768 – who had given up the pretence of being anything other than supreme ruler by forcing the last Merovingian king into a monastery and taking the title of ‘King of the Franks’ – Charlemagne,

In later life, Charlemagne came into conflict with his doctors after they advised him to stop eating roasted meat

Left
Charles Martel, grandfather of Charlemagne, defeats the Moors at the Battle of Tours in 732
Below
St Giles pardons the Emperor. Although a popular legend, there’s no evidence that the two ever met

which means ‘Charles the Great’, shared the zeal of his predecessors. At war for most of his life, Charlemagne took Charles Martel’s fight against the Moors into northern Spain, continued the conquest and conversion of the Saxons and launched new campaigns against the Lombards of northern Italy, the Slavs in Croatia and the Avars in Hungary.
Leading his personal guard, the scara cavalry, into battle with his sword Joyeuse, Charlemagne’s exploits have one armoured foot in myth and the other in fact, with separating the two being a difficult task, but his journey from king to the first Roman emperor since the fall of the Roman Empire has little to do with his legend as a warrior king and everything to do with the insecurity of  the Church.
Pope Leo III succeeded Adrian I on the day of the previous pontiff’s burial, so fearful was he that the Frankish king to whom his predecessor owed his lands and safety would feel a right to interfere in the election of the new pope. Yet, despite his wariness he was quick to bring Rome’s most powerful ally on side; along with the letter that announced his succession, Leo included the keys to St Peter’s Basilica and the Pope’s banner. The not-so subtle message was that he viewed Charlemagne as the defender of the Holy See, and trusted him with Rome’s protection. The Frank was equally magnanimous in return, congratulating the pontiff and sending vast riches, the spoils of his war against the Avars, but not without condition, suggesting that as he happened to be the stalwart defender of Christianity, the pope had a duty to pray for the Frankish armies as they continued their conquest.
Charlemagne would honour his side of this implied bargain, and in return Leo elevated him to an office left vacant since the 5th century.
While Leo engaged in his letter-writing campaign with the monarch to the north-west and used the Avar loot to become a patron of the arts, the family of the late Adrian I launched a conspiracy to remove him from his post and replace him with his nephew Paschal the Primicerius. On 25 April 799 CE, during the procession of The Greater Litanies through the Eternal City, Leo was attacked by armed thugs who stabbed him in the eyes and attempted to tear out his tongue at the root. After dragging him to the church of San Silvestro in Capite and trying to gouge out his eyes again, the bloodied pope was left unconscious as a prisoner at the monastery of St Erasmus. Accused of perjury and fornication by his rivals, the wounded – but amazingly not blinded or voiceless – Leo fled Rome to Spoleto, 126 kilometres (78 miles) north of the city, where under the protection of the Duke of Spoleto he was able to make his way to Charlemagne at Paderborn in Saxony.
That such a loyal servant of the Frankish king could be found so close to Rome, deep within Italy’s central Umbria region, neatly underlines the unbalanced relationship of power between the Franks and the Roman Catholic Church that had initially caused Leo such anxiety. Though the territory had been given to Rome in 776 after the defeat of the Lombards, the king retained the power to choose the Duke, making papal control as meaningless as that of the last Merovingian kings under Charlemagne’s ancestors.
Clearly, the threat of political interference from Charlemagne had been trumped by that of actual bodily harm, and Leo begged for the monarch’s  aid. He had no authority to do so – neither he  nor the conspirators in Rome were subjects of  the Franks, and no law yet existed that would  make bishops subordinate to secular authority. With conflict left in Saxony to pursue, Charlemagne let the matter stew for a year and kept the recovering pontiff as his guest. Finally heading to Rome in November 800 with a sizeable (and no doubt fairly threatening) entourage, Charlemagne summoned a council of the city’s religious authorities and patiently listened to  the accusations put to Leo, before allowing the deposed pontiff to make an impassioned plea  of innocence.
Unsurprisingly, Charlemange took Leo’s side, and ordered the conspirators’ executions, but Leo requested that they instead be exiled, with the unpopular pope perhaps seeing an opportunity to impress with capacity for forgiveness.
Crowned ‘Emperor of the Romans’ on Christmas Day that same year by the grateful pope, the official report insists that Charlemagne was ambushed like some sort of early-medieval surprise party. The king’s biographer, the monk Einhard, claimed that his liege had such “aversion [to being crowned Emperor] that he declared he would not have set foot in the church… if he could have foreseen the designs of the pope.”
It’s entirely possible that Charlemagne and Leo came to some agreement during their year together. After all, the idea of grinning priests hiding a bejewelled imperial crown as if it were a birthday cake is too ludicrous to contemplate. Documents from his reign reveal that Charlemagne preferred using the title ‘Charles, the most serene Augustus crowned by God, the great, peaceful Emperor ruling the Roman Empire’ rather than the simpler and more often used ‘Emperor of the Romans’. These aren’t entirely the actions of someone with an aversion to the role, and the king’s apparent humility may have been as expertly stage-managed as Leo’s mercy. Nonetheless, with his rule over the Frankish lands uncontested and his empire secured through sheer military prowess, Charlemagne no more needed to declare himself Roman emperor than the fearsome Charles Martel needed to be king. The vulnerable pope, however, required an emperor in order to protect himself and the vast empire with the Church at its heart. Only Rome had nostalgia for its lost empire; the Franks held their 4th century resistance to Roman rule, and their role in dismembering the Roman Empire, as a point of fierce pride. Ultimately though, the way Charlemagne signed his name changed nothing of the way he conducted his affairs, and the impact of his ascension – reluctant or willing – to Europe’s highest office would take another 150 years to make itself fully known.
The first Holy Roman Emperor, Otto I, took the title in 962 CE and reinvented himself in the Frankish king’s image, creating a powerful multi-ethnic state and a crown that would endure for over 1,000 years.
Through the Holy Roman Empire, Charlemagne’s rule defined not just the primacy of France as one of Europe’s imperial, religious and cultural superpowers, but of numerous Austrian, German and Italian states too.
A career that began for Charlemagne as king  of the Franks ended not just as emperor, but also  as the father of the Europe that we can still recognise today.

“Charlemagne’s journey from king to emperor has everything to do with the insecurity of the Church”

Birth of the modern Europe

Three big ways in which Charlemagne changed the continent

Man of letters
1
Frustrated by his own difficulty in mastering the written word, Charlemagne rolled out a system of reforms to the very shape of writing, insisting on a double space to separate words, an indent at the start of a paragraph and punctuation marks to indicate where the reader should pause or stop. Question marks and lower case letters also appeared.

Silver age
2
Due to a shortage of gold, Charlemagne and the Anglo-Saxon King Offa standardised their currencies based on a pound of silver – in Latin, libra – which was broken down into 20 sous, each of 12 deniers. This is the origin of many global currencies past and present, from the British pound to the Italian lira.

Out of the dark
3
Charlemagne’s interest in the arts led to the Carolingian Renaissance, a flowering of art, literature, poetry and learning. The Dark Ages traditionally cover the 6th to 13th centuries, but for the Franks it was over before it began, and 90 per cent of surviving Roman manuscripts do so because monks copied them.

Charlemagne orders the construction of a city to ford the River Main – Frankfurt, or Frank Ford

Images; Getty; Source: Wikipedia Commons / Public Domain

Queen

who

ruled

Kings

For 50 years, one woman stood  at the centre of the affairs of three kingdoms

For 50 years, one woman stood at the centre of power and politics in northern Europe, her influence stretching from Normandy across the Channel to England and over the North Sea to Denmark and Scandinavia. Wife to two kings, mother to two more, Emma, daughter of Richard the Fearless, Duke of Normandy, was a pivotal figure in English, Norman and Scandinavian history. What is also clear is that Emma was no helpless female pawn in these dynastic and family struggles, but one of the most active players in the game. Emma made kings and brought them down; she legitimised rulers and sidelined others, and through it all she displayed the keenest sense for public relations of any medieval queen. Not bad for the initially illegitimate daughter of what was still essentially a Viking duchy.
In 1002, in a further attempt to deny raiding Vikings a sanctuary port with their cousins across the Channel in Normandy, King Æthelred of England contracted marriage with the sister of Richard II, Duke of Normandy. Æthelred was 36, Emma probably in her late teens. But for the daughter of a duke to marry a king was huge step up. The young Emma was, however, stepping into a pit of conflicting interests: Æthelred had been married before, his first wife, Ælfgifu, having provided the king with six sons and at least three daughters. As part of the marriage negotiations, Emma’s brother had apparently insisted that any children produced by Emma and Æthelred would rank higher in precedence than the sons of Ælfgifu and Æthelred – an arrangement hardly likely to find favour with those six growing boys and their relations. Nor could they have been too happy with Emma being given the Anglo-Saxon name of Ælfgifu on her arrival in England in a strange attempt to write their mother out of history.
While incompetent in all other regal matters, Æthelred was extremely potent in the production of royal heirs: with Emma, he had a further three children; two sons, Edward and Alfred, and a daughter, Goda, despite the chroniclers intimating that the marriage was not the happiest of royal unions. It can’t have been easy for the supremely competent Emma to be married to such a bungler. They had only been married a few months when she saw this at first hand: on 13 November 1002, Æthelred ordered the massacre of all Danes living in England. Fatefully, one of those caught up in the St Brice’s Day massacre was Gunhilde, sister of King Sweyn Forkbeard of Denmark. What had before been purely business – raiding and plundering England – became deeply personal for the enraged king. During the following decade, Sweyn Forkbeard launched a series of devastating attacks on England, finally landing himself in 1013 and conquering the demoralised country.
Æthelred fled. To Normandy. Emma and their sons had already left for sanctuary across the Channel, although the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle notes laconically that Emma travelled separately from husband and children. But having conquered England – a feat for which he gets little notice – King Sweyn Forkbeard died only five weeks into his reign, on 3 February 1014. The English nobility, who had abandoned Æthelred, invited him back on condition that he would amend his ways and, a most telling condition, rule them justly. Cnut, Sweyn’s young son, attempted to hold on to the crown but had to flee. So, for the first and only time in his life, Æthelred made a triumphant return to England. But the king was soon back to his old, capricious ways, forcing his eldest son, Edmund, to open revolt. With England riven by civil strife, Cnut returned at the head of a fresh invading army in September 1015. It was Edmund, now named Ironside, who led the resistance against Cnut over the next year and a half, Æthelred finally doing his country a service by dying on 23 April 1016.
With Edmund, the son of her rival, leading the fight and her own sons having taken refuge back

The Queen who Ruled Kings

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Above
After the death of her first husband, the ineffectual Æthelred, Emma was married to the famous King Cnut; her place on the English throne restored to her

in Normandy, Emma was for the moment only a bystander to the events shaping history. But when Cnut and Edmund fought each other to a stalemate, only for Edmund to conveniently die after signing a peace treaty with the Dane, Emma was soon right back at the centre of things. For what better way for Cnut to signal his legitimacy as king of England than for him to make queen the woman who had, until so recently, been queen?
According to the account Emma later commissioned, Cnut sent emissaries to her in Normandy to woo her acceptance of his proposal. According to a Norman chronicler, Emma was captured when Cnut took London and had little choice in the matter. But whether a forced or willing bride, Emma soon turned the situation to her advantage: she was queen again. And, what’s more, with Cnut as her husband, she would become queen of a veritable North Sea empire, encompassing England, Denmark and Norway.
Leaving her sons, Edward and Alfred, in the care of her brother back in Normandy – as the sons of Æthelred and therefore direct claimants to the throne, the two boys would hardly be welcome at Cnut’s court – Emma gave birth to a son, Harthacnut, from her union with Cnut. But the same problem as had attended her marriage to Æthelred applied to her union with Cnut: the king already had a wife, confusingly also called Ælfgifu, an Englishwoman from a prominent northern family, who had given birth to two sons. Although Cnut did not repudiate Ælfgifu, he accorded Emma high status at his court, her name frequently paired with that of the king.
But on 12 November 1035, Cnut died, throwing wide the question of succession. Emma threw her considerable political weight behind her son, Harthacnut, with the backing of Earl Godwin (father of the later King Harold), while Ælfgifu, together with the powerful northern English families that she came from, backed her son, Harold. But Emma was hampered by the non-appearance of Harthacnut, who was tied up in Denmark trying to secure his rule there, whereas Harold earned the nickname ‘Harefoot’ by rushing to London in the immediate aftermath of Cnut’s death to claim the throne. The negotiations split the country between Harold and Harthacnut, with Emma holding Wessex until her son was able to arrive and claim his crown. But Harthacnut did not come – his rule in Denmark being threatened by Magnus Olafson, who had taken Norway – and Earl Godwin switched sides. With her power leaking away – Harold had already commandeered the most valuable of Cnut’s treasures from her base in Winchester – and no sign of Harthacnut’s arrival, Emma had to look elsewhere for new levers on power. And just across the Channel, she had two sons, Edward and Alfred, both with claims on the throne of England. Edward attempted a half-hearted invasion, but Alfred was captured by Earl Godwin, then taken to Harold Harefoot’s men, who blinded him – thus disqualifying him from kingship. The blinding was botched: Alfred died. The relationship between Emma and Edward, never easy and usually distant, suffered further as a result of these twin debacles.
With Harold Harefoot now firmly in charge, Emma was forced to flee England, but she did not seek refuge in Normandy, to which Edward had returned, but in Flanders. With her prospects looking bleaker than they had for a long time, Emma was buoyed by the arrival in Bruges of Harthacnut. He had come to claim the English crown. This proved much easier than might have been expected, for Harold Harefoot died on 17 March 1040.  He was only 24. Harthacnut sailed to England with Emma and, on 17 June 1040, they landed at Sandwich. Emma was queen once more.
However, Harthacnut’s rule was unpopular: used to ruling as an autocrat in Denmark, Harthacnut did not take kindly to the English expectation that a king rule in consultation with his chief nobles. By 1041, Harthacnut was probably also suffering the debilitating effects of the illness that would eventually kill him.
Realising that she needed to bolster her position, Emma arranged for the return of her son, Edward, who became king alongside his half-brother Harthacnut. Harthacnut had not married and had no recognised children, so he may have acquiesced to his mother’s wish that he be succeeded by his half-brother. In any event, Harthacnut died on 8 June 1042. Earl Godwin, the most powerful earl in the land, supported Edward’s accession and on 8 April 1043, Emma’s eldest son by Æthelred was consecrated king.
But, not unreasonably, Edward harboured a deep resentment against his mother. Having been crowned king, he moved against her in November of the same year, appearing in Winchester, Emma’s power base, with his three most powerful earls, Godwin among them, where he expropriated Emma’s most valuable treasures. Edward shifted the centre of political power in England from Winchester to Westminster. Emma stayed in Winchester, and did eventually recover favour with her son, but she was decisively sidelined in the power struggles in England. From here on in, it was a contest between Edward and the Earl Godwin and his family, a contest that came to its bloody resolution at Hastings. Emma died on 7 March 1052. She was buried beside Cnut and Harthacnut in Winchester: wife to two kings and mother to two more. Few people have played such a central role, for so long, in English affairs.

Emma’s early life

The famous story of Cnut and the tide was actually meant to illustrate the king’s impatience with flattering courtiers rather than his own vanity

Emma was born in Normandy c.985. An indication of her initial lack of prospects is shown by the uncertainty over her date of birth and the scanty information about her early life. Her father, Richard, was Duke of Normandy and the grandson of the Duchy’s founder, Rollo, the Viking who settled in France with the permission of Charles the Simple, king of France, around 918, on the proviso that the settled Northmen would guard the kingdom against their wandering kinsmen. Rollo’s son and grandson, and their people, assimilated rapidly into France, adopting French names (William and Richard), speaking French rather than Norse, and becoming enthusiastic and devout Christians. But up to Emma’s father, Richard, it was common practice for the dukes to marry in the ‘Danish fashion’ (“more danico” in Latin), a practice that allowed marriage to a woman of lower rank but the possibility to put her aside should a more high-ranking bride become available. The Church disapproved of the practice, however, and Richard eventually formalised his marriage. In practice, children of these unions were not yet disadvantaged in terms of inheritance, the most notable example of course being William himself.

Right
The children of Richard I, the Fearless, Duke of Normandy. Emma is in the last circle to the right

LEFT
A legend that tells that Emma was accused of adultery and forced to walk blindfolded over red-hot ploughshares to prove her innocence. She is said to have successfully done so

Emma was the great-aunt of William the Conqueror. This connection gave William a claim to the English throne

Public relations, Emma style

Emma, always subject to gossip from rivals and competitors, was not one to sit back and allow her name to be perjured. While Harthacnut pursued his reign, she commissioned a monk from Flanders to write her biography, the Encomium Emmae Reginae. There were many whispers against Emma’s role in the blinding and death of her son, Alfred, and the Encomium was designed to counter that with her own account of what had brought Alfred on his ill-fated trip to England – a forged letter in her name sent by Harold Harefoot – and the insinuation that Harold Harefoot wasn’t even Cnut’s son, but a baby brought in by Ælfgifu when she was unable to get pregnant by Cnut. With Harthacnut on the throne, the Encomium also passes in silence over Emma’s first queenship, as wife to King Æthelred, while casting Emma’s marriage to Cnut in ideal terms. The single surviving manuscript of the Encomium has a front-page illustration of Emma herself receiving the book from the kneeling writer, with her reigning sons, Harthacnut and Edward, relegated to minor positions on the margin of the picture.

Above
Emma receiving the Encomium from its author, with Harthacnut and Edward looking on admiringly

Images; Getty Images; Source: Wikipedia Commons / Public Domain

Pious

King

No Heir

With

Edward brought the country stability and prosperity, but his failure to secure the succession to the throne left England open to war

Edward was born in to a country being torn apart by raiders and invaders. He was the eldest son of King Æthelred and his second wife, Emma of Normandy. Æthelred had already produced at least six sons by his first wife, so he was hardly in need of further heirs. But what he did need was to secure the ports across the Channel from Viking raiders.
The Normans were descendants of Vikings who had settled in the valley of the lower Seine in the early-10th century and been granted the land by Charles the Simple of France in return for securing his northern borders against Viking raiders.
A century later, with the Norman duchy well established, Æthelred attempted to do the same for his own realm. The Vikings who were harrying England were using the ports of Normandy as safe havens and they found a ready welcome among their Norman cousins. But the widowed Æthelred arranged a marriage with Emma, the sister of Richard the Good, duke of Normandy, in 1002. Much good did it do him or England. Though the Normans largely kept their side of the bargain, Æthelred had made such a hash of defending England that, when Sweyn Forkbeard landed with his invading army in 1013, the demoralised defenders offered barely any resistance. In a telling comment on what she thought of her husband, Emma fled to Normandy with her two sons by Æthelred – Edward had a younger brother called Alfred – leaving the king behind. Æthelred himself followed later, only to return to England in 1014 when Sweyn Forkbeard died. His Viking army declared for Forkbeard’s son, Cnut, but Æthelred’s eldest son, Edmund Ironside, led the fightback and Æthelred was invited back – whereupon the resistance promptly crumbled again. On 23 April 1016, Æthelred finally did something for his country: he died. Edmund renewed the resistance to the Danish takeover, fighting Cnut through the summer and autumn and only losing the decisive battle through the treachery of Æthelred’s chief adviser, Eadric Streona. Edmund died soon afterwards and Edward, who had been part of his half brother’s army, fled into exile once more. With Cnut now secure on the throne, Edward can’t have expected to return.
His prospects declined even further when Cnut invited Edward’s mother, Emma, to come back over the Channel and take a second bite at being queen. Emma promptly accepted and, leaving her sons behind in Normandy, married Cnut – despite him already having sons through his handfast wife, Ælfgifu. As part of the marriage settlement, Emma probably extracted the promise that the children of her marriage

Edward also had a sister, Godgifu, who married Drogo, count of the Vexin, and then, when Drogo died, Eustace, count of Boulogne

The Pious King with No Heir

Images; Adobe Stock; Source: Wikipedia Commons / Public Domain

would have priority in succession and so she set about producing another heir: Harthacnut was born in 1018.
All but abandoned by their mother, Edward and his brother Alfred grew to manhood in Normandy. With Cnut so dominant a king – and having three sons by two wives – there was little prospect of the young men ever returning to the country of their birth. In most such cases, they would have slipped into obscurity, forgotten by history. But Cnut died on 12 November 1035 when he was about 40.
Emma immediately swung into action, supporting her son, Harthacnut, for the succession. But the problem was that Harthacnut was detained in Denmark as he sought to establish his rule there – Cnut had ruled a North Sea empire comprising Denmark, Norway, England and parts of Sweden – while Cnut’s son with Ælfgifu, Harold Harefoot, was on the ground in England and staking his claim to the throne. In some desperation, Emma remembered her other boys, living across the Channel, who also had claim to the throne. In 1036, Edward sailed back to England for the first time since he was a boy on a crown-fishing expedition. When he was met by an army rather than acclaim, Edward decided that his mother’s assurances of welcome were as trustworthy as her maternal feelings and sailed back to Normandy. But later in the year, his younger brother Alfred decided to try his luck.
Alfred and his men were met by Earl Godwin, the most powerful Englishman in the land. The Godwin family had risen to prominence from obscure origins under Cnut. Godwin welcomed Alfred and his men and took them to Guildford, feasting and entertaining them. Then, as they slept off the feast, they were attacked. Alfred’s men were variously killed, enslaved, mutilated and scalped. Alfred himself was taken prisoner but, in captivity, his eyes were put out: a blind man could not claim the throne. The young prince soon succumbed to his wounds. Earl Godwin had been, with Emma, a supporter of Harthacnut, but with this wet work Godwin successfully ingratiated himself with Harold Harefoot. In Harthacnut’s continuing absence, Harold Harefoot was crowned king – and Emma was sent into exile. Not to Normandy – where Edward might have given her a frosty reception – but to Flanders. However, Emma was not yet finished with being queen. She commissioned her defence, a work exonerating her of all blame, and renewed her contacts with Harthacnut. In England, Harold Harefoot fell ill and died on 17 March 1040. Emma sailed back to England with her son, Harthacnut, a queen once more.
But then, in 1041, something really extraordinary happened: Harthacnut invited his half brother, Edward, over from Normandy to rule alongside him. Kings not being known for voluntarily sharing power, it may be that Harthacnut needed Edward to help shore up his increasingly unpopular reign. But a simpler explanation may be that Harthacnut was ailing and feared he had little time left to live. No doubt Emma, keen to install another of her sons on the throne, suggested Edward as both stop gap and potential successor.
Whatever the solution to this riddle, on 8 June 1042, Harthacnut died at a wedding feast. Edward, by this time in his late 30s, was, most unexpectedly, the new king of England.
Though king, Edward’s position was unusually weak: he had no power base in the country and, in a time when power depended as much on personal relationships and ties as armed force, he was a stranger in a strange land. As such, he had no choice but to depend on his earls, of whom the most powerful was Godwin – the man he held responsible for the death of his younger brother. Besides, he could use Godwin’s help to deal with a long-standing problem of his own: his mother.
In November 1043, with Earl Godwin by his side, Edward rode to his mother’s base in Winchester and stripped her of her treasures. Although Emma did earn partial rehabilitation, her scheming came to an end and this most remarkable of women died on 7 March 1052, being buried beside Cnut and Harthacnut in Winchester.
Such favours required payback and Godwin’s terms were steep: on 23 January 1045, his daughter, Edith, married Edward. Thus, this earl of obscure background and humble origins might look towards his grandson becoming king of England. It was a heady prospect.
Godwin’s sons prospered alongside their sister, with his eldest sons, Sweyn and Harold, raised to earldoms. The family now ruled most of southern England – an uncomfortable, perhaps unconscionable, situation for the king. For, in 1051, Edward moved against the Godwin family.
The cause of the dispute was a struggle over the appointment of the archbishop of Canterbury, but it became a struggle for mastery of the realm. Edward called in the support of the northern earls, while Godwin and his sons raised their own armies. But, as the rival armies converged on London, Godwin’s men, reluctant to fight the king, slipped away, leaving the earl in an untenable position. When he sought to negotiate with Edward, the king sent back the reply that Godwin could have peace, “when he gave him back his brother alive.”
The Godwins fled in exile. As for the queen, Edward put her into a convent. As 1051 drew to a close, Edward could think himself now truly master of the land he ruled. But, in exile, the Godwins were planning their return.

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Cnut from a 14th-century manuscript. Sometimes known as Cnut the Great, he ruled a considerable North Sea empire

When Sweyn Forkbeard died in 1014, Æthelred sent his ten-year-old son Edward to England to help negotiate his return

Defining moment
Born into interesting times c.1004 Edward, the first child of King Æthelred the Unready’s second wife, is born somewhere around 1004. It could have been 1003 or 1005. The uncertainty shows how little attention was paid to him when he was young: as a prince with a distant claim to the throne, it was not worth recording his birth in annals such as the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. Edward is born in the midst of repeated Viking attacks that are grinding down the ability of the English to resist.

1013

1014

23 April 1016

30 November 1016

July 1017

The forgotten exile
With Cnut secure on the throne, Edward lives in exile with his relatives in Normandy.

1016-35

12 November 1035

Edward tries  his luck
Edward lands in England with a small army but is forced  to withdraw.

1036

Into exile
Sweyn Forkbeard invades England. Emma, the queen, flees to relatives in Normandy, taking both her sons, Edward and Alfred, with her.

The return of the king (unfortunately)
Æthelred returns to reclaim the throne and promptly cripples the fight against Sweyn’s son, Cnut.

Death of  another king
Æthelred finally dies. His son, Edmund Ironside, leads the struggle against the Danes.

Death of a third king
Edmund Ironside dies. Sweyn’s son, Cnut, is now the unopposed king. Edward returns to exile.

A queen again
Edward’s mother, Emma, leaving her children in Normandy, returns to England to marry Cnut and reign as his queen.

The tide sweeps Cnut away
Cnut dies. Emma backs her son, Harthacnut, for the throne of England but he is delayed in Denmark.

above
Edward the Confessor as portrayed in the medieval masterpiece, the Wilton Diptych (he’s the standing figure in the middle). The artist who painted this extraordinary work is unknown, but possibly from northern France

Did Edward really promise William the crown?

According to Norman sources, Edward did. Early in 1051, as part of his campaign to rid himself of the Godwins, they say that Edward sent a message to William offering him the crown if he would support Edward in his struggle. William was Edward’s first cousin, once removed (Edward’s mother and William’s grandfather were siblings), so there was a blood relationship, however distant, and Edward had reason to be grateful to the Norman dukes for giving him a home during his long exile. William, not surprisingly, accepted the offer. But Edward seems to have been all too free with his promises of the crown. In 1057, he recalled the son of Edmund Ironside, also called Edward, to England from his long exile in Hungary. As a direct descendant of the line of kings, Edward the Exile had the strongest claim of anyone to the throne. But, two days after his return, Edward the Exile died. Murdered? We don’t know. But his death was certainly convenient for those who were gathering about the throne and its childless king.

Defining moment
King after all c.1041
Harthacnut, against all precedent, invites Edward to return from exile and rule alongside him in England as co-regent. He does this either to shore up his own unpopular rule or because he knows he is ill and, being without any children, he is putting a successor in place should he succumb to his illness. Whichever it is, Edward, by now in his late 30s, finds himself, against all expectations, a king.

Defining moment
Taking down the Godwins c.1051
It started with a dispute over who would be Archbishop of Canterbury. Earl Godwin wanted his man, but Edward insisted on making his Norman cleric archbishop. It escalated into a full-on armed confrontation: the king and the northern earls against the Godwins – and the Godwins backed down. With support crumbling, Earl Godwin and his sons fled into exile, while Edward promptly put his queen, Godwin’s daughter, into a nunnery. The kingdom was the king’s, finally. Or was it…?

Alfred Ill’s luck
Edward’s brother tries for the crown, but is captured by Earl Godwin and has his eyes put out. Alfred dies from his wounds.

1037

17 March 1040

17 June 1040

8 June 1042

November 1043

23 January 1045

A new king
Harold Harefoot, another son of Cnut, is crowned king of England.

Another king bites the dust
Harold Harefoot dies. He is only 24.

And a new  king arrives
Harthacnut lands in England and is crowned king.

The king is dead,  long live the king
Harthacnut dies. Against all expectation, Edward finds himself king of England.

Mother troubles
Edward dispossesses his mother, Emma, of her treasures and banishes her from  his court.

A married man
Edward marries Edith, the daughter of Earl Godwin.

Last

Anglo-Saxon

Harold, England’s most powerful earl, claimed the throne on King Edward’s death.
But to hold on to the crown, Harold knew he would have to fight

The Godwin family had learned one thing through their years of service to the crown: while men might pay lip service to the rules of succession, in truth the crown went to who could claim and hold it. This knowledge was deep and bitter. Harold’s grandfather, Wulfnoth, had been a victim of the plots and rumours that swirled around King Æthelred, but his father, Godwin, had risen to power through loyal service to King Cnut, becoming the most powerful man in the land after the king.
Then, when Cnut died, Godwin had been kingmaker, helping to raise first Harold Harefoot, then Harthacnut, to the throne. When Harthacnut had died, Godwin had eased the accession to the throne of Edward, the unlikely king, thus clearing – at least in the conscience of the earl – the bloodguilt he owed Edward for his part in the death of Edward’s brother, Alfred. What’s more, Earl Godwin had sealed his place as the power behind the throne by marrying his daughter to Edward. Now Earl Godwin could look towards the prospect of a future grandson of his taking the throne of England as Edward’s heir.
But the king had not forgotten what had happened to his brother. And, in 1051, he moved against his over-mighty earl and his family. Edward installed one of his Norman clerics, Robert de Jumièges, as the new Archbishop of Canterbury, against the opposition of Earl Godwin. It is likely that Edward gave Robert the task of conveying to the duke of Normandy his offer of the throne when, in the spring of 1051, the priest left England for Rome to receive his pallium from the pope, the vestment signifying his status as an archbishop.
At the end of August, the simmering tension between king and earl broke when Godwin refused to carry out the harrying of the town of Dover that Edward demanded of him following an armed incident between the people of Dover and the retainers of Edward’s brother-in-law. Dover was part of Godwin’s earldom and he refused to injure the people. Earl confronted king. Godwin and his sons – Sweyn, Harold, Tostig, Gyrth, Leofwine and Wulfnoth – raised armies.
But the king had prepared for this confrontation. Calling the northern earls to his side, Edward raised his own forces and England trembled on the edge of civil strife.
But, seeing such a spectre rise before them, both sides paused. Earl Godwin agreed to come to London to stand before the king and answer the charge of treason. With both armies on opposite banks of the Thames at London, the Godwins realised that the balance of power had shifted decisively against them, for much of their own forces had slipped away, unwilling to fight the king.
Edward, seeing this, delivered his terms to Earl Godwin: that he might have peace when he returned the king’s brother to him, alive. There would be no terms.
Earl Godwin fled, with his wife and sons Sweyn and Tostig, to Flanders. Harold and Leofwine went

Harold’s mistress, Edith  Swan-neck, may have been Eadgifu the Fair, one of the largest landholders in England

Images; Adobe Stock;  Alamy

The scandalous life and death of Harold’s elder brother

Sweyn Godwinson, the eldest son of Earl Godwin and Harold’s elder brother, led a tumultuous life. According to the man himself, he was the son, not of Earl Godwin but of King Cnut. However, his mother denied the claim vehemently. In 1046, Sweyn abducted Eadgifu, the abbess of Leominster, intending to marry her and claim the Leominster estates. When the king refused to agree to the marriage, Sweyn released Eadgifu, who returned to Leominster. But her abbey was disbanded, which suggests Eadgifu may not have been an entirely unwilling abductee. Sweyn fled to Flanders. In 1049, Sweyn returned, hoping to reclaim his territories, which had been split between Harold and a cousin, Beorn. Beorn eventually agreed to help Sweyn, but Sweyn ended up abducting Beorn too. The end for his cousin was worse than for the abbess: Sweyn murdered him. As a result, Sweyn was outlawed again. However, Earl Godwin engineered his forgiveness, but when the Godwins were exiled in 1051, Sweyn left the rest of the family to make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem and atone for his sins – these being so heinous that he went barefoot. But Sweyn, purged of his sin, died on the way back before he could sin again.

above
Harold setting out on his ill-fated journey to redeem his brother. Note the accompanying hawk and dog: hunting was such a major part of the life of the nobility that they took their hunting animals with them when they went abroad

into exile in Ireland. The last remaining Godwin in England was the queen, and with her family fled, Edward put Edith into a nunnery.
The king had his country.
But Edward couldn’t keep it. To guard against the Godwins’ return, Edward had relied upon the levy of ships he could raise as king. Initially, it seemed to work. However, in 1052, when the Godwins raised their own fleet, the king’s boats dispersed, having fulfilled their time of service, leaving the coast unguarded. Earl Godwin’s fleet met with a separate armada raised by Harold and Leofwine in Ireland, and sailed unopposed up the Channel, round Kent and up the Thames. By 14 September, they had reached London, anchoring at Southwark. Edward had managed to scrabble together 50 boats to meet them, and again the two sides faced off against each other. The Godwins demanded the king return their land and earldoms. This time, however, support leached away from the king. The rising tide allowed the Godwin’s ships to surround Edward’s boats, anchored on the north side of the Thames.
The king had lost his country. Robert de Jumièges and Edward’s other Norman advisers fled. In a display of political theatre, Earl Godwin met the king, begged his forgiveness and proclaimed his innocence of all charges against him. Edward, humiliated and outmanoeuvred, had no choice but to return to the Godwins all their lands and titles. Not long afterwards, Edward brought his wife and queen out of the convent he had confined her in.
To everyone in England it must have been clear that while Edward wore the crown, the Godwins had the power. But in 1052, the Godwins suffered a reverse with no return: Earl Godwin’s eldest son, Sweyn, died.
A deeper blow hit the family on 15 April 1053: their patriarch, Earl Godwin, died. According to one chronicler, just before his collapse at the Easter Monday feast, the earl had asked that God not let him swallow if he had done anything to injure either the king or his late brother. From the descriptions of other sources, it seems the earl suffered a stroke. But with the father dead, his eldest surviving son, Harold, succeeded to the earldom of Wessex. As the senior Godwin, Harold moved to promote the interests of his brothers and, in 1055, he engineered the promotion of Tostig to the earldom of Northumbria, while by 1057 he had installed Gyrth as earl of East Anglia and Leofwine as earl of the counties surrounding London. Apart from Mercia, the Godwins were lords of England. And the king, apparently acquiescing, largely withdrew from affairs, contenting himself with attending mass each day, hunting and the building of a new minster, west of London, the Westminster Abbey.
Then, in 1064, the records tell us Harold crossed the Channel and became the guest of Duke William in Normandy.
Why should Harold, now indisputably the most powerful man in the land, let himself fall into the clutches of William? The Norman sources claim that Edward sent Harold to William with the promise that the crown would come to him after Edward’s death. But even if the king still wanted this to happen, why should Harold carry such a wish? Edward was in his 60s and he had handed over the running of the kingdom to Harold – he couldn’t have made Harold carry such a promise to William even if he’d wanted him to.
English chronicles claim it was all a mistake: a fishing trip blown off course by a storm. But there was reason for Harold to visit William: the Duke had one of his brothers. In the crisis of 1051, Godwin had handed over his youngest son, Wulfnoth, to Edward as a hostage. Some time between then and the Godwins’ return in 1052, Wulfnoth had been taken across the Channel to Normandy, and left in the keeping of William. And there he had remained ever since. The most plausible explanation is that Harold set sail with the aim of buying the freedom of his youngest brother. If that was his aim, it failed. Harold returned home without him. But William, for his part, had gained something from Harold: the promise to help William to the throne. For Harold, prisoner first to the Count of Ponthieu and then William’s ‘guest’, there must have seemed little choice but to give his word to gain his freedom. But William seems to have been of a literal turn of mind: an oath, however extracted, was still an oath.
Harold returned home in 1065 to find his brother, Tostig’s, earldom under threat. Rebels had united behind the son of the previous earl, intending to depose Tostig and install Morcar as earl of Northumbria. Unhappy with Tostig’s governance, the rebels had assembled a great army. Harold went to negotiate with them himself. But the rebels would not accept Tostig back. Returning to the king and his brother, Harold reported their demands, only for Tostig to accuse him of treachery. That seems unlikely: the Godwins’ greatest strength had always been their support for each other. But, in this case, Harold was not willing to fight for his brother’s cause and on 27 October 1065, Harold told the rebels that they could have their demands: the installation of Morcar as earl of Northumbria and the restitution of their old laws. Four days later, the furious Tostig, with his family and retainers, went into exile. The unity of the Godwin family had been broken, with what would be fatal consequences for them all.
For, at the end of the year, the king fell ill. On 6 January 1066, Edward died.
Harold was crowned the same day.

“The last remaining Godwin in England was the queen, and with her family fled, the king put her into a nunnery”

The estates of the Godwinsons produced an income of £8,500 a year in the 1050s; the king’s estates returned £6,000

The deathbed  of King Edward

Did King Edward give the crown to Harold Godwinson, his most powerful earl, as he lay dying on 6 January 1066? The sources disagree, although most do concur that Edward did give rule of the kingdom into Harold’s hands. However, the Life of Edward, commissioned by his queen, tells us who was with him on that fateful day: Edith herself, her brother Harold, the archbishop of Canterbury and the steward of the palace. The Bayeux Tapestry reproduces this scene. But what exactly did Edward say? Again, according to the Vita (Life) of Edward, the king commended the queen and the kingdom to Harold’s protection. Not exactly a ringing endorsement of Harold’s kingship – although admittedly the king was dying at the time. But, in England, the king’s wish did not determine his successor; in the end, that was a matter for the magnates of the country. And Harold had spent many years cultivating his contacts with them carefully. So it was no surprise that they chose Harold as king, and saw him crowned the same day as Edward died.

Above
The death of King Edward as depicted on the Bayeux Tapestry (top half of the scene). The king is being propped up by his servant, Edith is at the foot of the bed, the archbishop is standing and Harold is kneeling as the king reaches to him

above
Harold giving his oath to William, his hand placed on holy relics, that he would uphold William’s claim to the throne. As  a ‘guest’ of the duke, Harold probably felt he had no choice

Images; Adobe Stock;  Source; Wikipedia Commons / Public Doamin

William

The Bayeux Tapestry, which depicts William’s conquest of England, is 50 centimetres tall and almost 70 metres long

the

Conqueror

Discover how incredible battlefield courage and brutal treatment of his enemies led the bastard of Normandy to become king of England

On 5 January 1066, King Edward the Confessor of England passed away without a true heir. Upon his deathbed, the dying ruler had bequeathed his throne to the most powerful man in the kingdom, Harold Godwinson, Earl of Wessex. The day after the king’s death, Harold received the acceptance of the English magnates in London and was crowned. When word travelled across the Channel to the mainland and reached one of the most powerful nobles of northern France, he flew into a rage. William, Duke of Normandy, believed he was next in the line of succession to the English throne. Harold had stolen what did not belong to him, so as the rightful heir, the duke would do whatever it took to claim what was his; thus, he would become William the Conqueror.
40 years earlier in 1026, Count Robert of the Hiémois, William’s father, looked out the window of his room at Falaise Castle to see a young woman below walking alongside the River Ante. Struck by her beauty, the count ordered his servants to bring the maiden to his bedroom that night. Her name was Herleva, the daughter of a lower-class tanner. Even if the stories were true that the count fell deeply in love with her, Herleva never became more than a concubine to Robert.
However, their relationship became much more complicated the following year on 5 August when Duke Richard III of Normandy suddenly became ill and died. As Richard’s younger brother, Robert acted quickly to seize the duchy. With the support of several powerful Norman magnates, it did not take long before he became Duke Robert I. Around the same time, Herleva found out she was with child. By the end of 1028, William, the bastard son of the new duke, was born. Since Herleva was a commoner, Robert could not marry his mistress. Therefore, the duke did not immediately recognise his son, so William spent his first years at his mother’s home in Guibray. Although still unwilling to make Herleva his wife, Robert eventually gave her proper respect by arranging her marriage to minor noble Herluin de Conteville. She was given even more honour when her son was proclaimed as the duke’s legitimate heir; yet, this also meant that William was separated from his mother at a very young age and brought to live with his father at the castle of Falaise.
At the age of seven, William endured another traumatic experience when his father died while on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem in 1035. Luckily for William, Robert cleverly took the precaution to have his nobles accept his son as the ducal heir to Normandy before he left on his journey. Yet the latest duke was still deprived of his parents for the most part, with little contact with his mother, which would have left a major impression upon his childhood. Robert also appointed several close relatives, trusted advisors and loyal companions to take care of William and run the kingdom in his absence. These men, such as William’s great uncle Robert, the Archbishop of Rouen, gladly fulfilled

William the Conqueror

“Harold had stolen what did not belong to him, so as the rightful heir, the duke would do whatever it took to claim what was his”

1 Solid English phalanx
The front lines of the English infantry were formed into an impressive shield wall upon Senlac Ridge. The steep incline of the hill helped the tight phalanx withstand a full frontal assault from the Norman infantry and cavalry.

2 William killed?
The stalemate ended when panic rapidly spread throughout the Norman ranks because they believed William had been slain. The left flank broke in response so the Duke rode to the front with his helmet raised to rally the troops.

3 Unplanned feigned flight
The English who pursued the fleeing Normans soon found themselves cut off and were easily picked off by the more mobile Norman cavalry. Witnessing its effectiveness, William continued to utilise the tactic several more times throughout the battle.

The Battle of Hastings

4 Death of Harold
The battle raged on for most of the day. As the English casualties increased, the shield wall gradually diminished, allowing the Normans to attack the exposed English flanks. Even when badly injured, Harold fought until he was finally cut down.

their roles and when it became clear that Duke Robert was never going to return, they continued to do so until William came of age.
Yet it was surprising that Duke William survived his adolescence. Archbishop Robert managed to effectively rule the dukedom until his death in 1037. Afterward, Normandy devolved into anarchy as the aristocracy exploited the minority of the duke to carry out blood feuds with rival families, increase their lands or even plot to remove William to claim the duchy as their own. Many of the latter group were members of the duke’s own family, known as Richardides for their descent from the Norman Duke Richard I. Because of this ancestry, several of the Richardides believed their claim to the ducal throne was much greater than that of ‘William the Bastard’.
As William matured, he was surrounded by violence as several of his guardians were murdered. In late May 1042, the duke slept in the castle of Vaudreuil. To protect him, William’s steward, Osbern, lay beside him. Neither woke as an assassin crept into the room and stood over their bed. William woke to find the throat of his guardian slit open. As the young duke grew accustomed to the deaths of those closest to him, he managed to survive unharmed.
In 1046 and 1047, William faced the greatest threat to his life yet as the Richardides carried out a full-blown rebellion. However, the young duke acted quickly and effectively. William not only gathered his loyal vassals, but also reached out to his lord, King Henry I of France, and appealed for his help. Before long, William and Henry gathered a large enough force to confront the rebel army. At the Battle of Val-ès-Dunes in 1047, the King of France crushed the Norman dissidents, but William would continue to suppress minor revolts for the next three years.
By the early-1050s, William was in his twenties and had not required the supervision of a regent for some time. Free to act with full ducal authority, William quelled rebellions throughout Normandy and then began to look outward. This brought him into conflict not only with the formidable count of Anjou, Geoffrey II Martel, but also with King Henry, who began to fear the growing power of the young duke. Throughout the violent clashes William participated in at home and abroad, the duke quickly began to build a reputation as a fierce warrior capable of leading rapid assaults and laying effective sieges. Tales of the brutality inflicted on those who crossed him spread terror among his enemies.
One of the most horrific instances of William’s vengeance took place at Alençon in 1052. After his failed surprise assault on the town, the defenders on the wall yelled down insults about his illegitimate birth and beat animal skins with sticks to mock the fact his grandfather was a tanner. Once he managed to break into the town, William captured 36 of the men and punished them by ordering for all of their feet and hands to be severed. For the rest of his reign, William continued to order similar mutilations carried out on his worst enemies, however, his favoured punishment was imprisonment for several years; many times even for life.
Although nothing can excuse the terrible actions of the duke, his bravery in war and deep devotion to his close friends and family allowed him to attract numerous loyal followers. When his younger half-brothers, the sons of his mother, reached the proper age, William gave them land and prestigious titles. Odo became the bishop of Bayeux, while Robert was made the count of Mortain. Both men became staunch supporters of William and, together with other trustworthy lieutenants like Roger II of Montgomery and William FitzOsbern, they formed a tight-knit group around the duke who helped him greatly to achieve his goals. Yet the most important relationship of the duke was with his wife Matilda, daughter of Count Baldwin V of Flanders. At first,

The prisoner
When William demands Count Guy hand over Harold into his custody, the count obeys him and delivers the English noble to Castle Eu

LEFT
A depiction of William the Conqueror arriving in England in 1066

Contenders for the throne

Harold Godwinson
Earl of Wessex
Harold was a powerful English magnate. He was present while Edward lay on his deathbed and bequeathed his throne to Harold. The Witan of Anglo-Saxon nobles accepted his coronation.

William
Duke of Normandy
Before Edward the Confessor became king in 1042, he lived in exile at the court of the dukes of Normandy. To show his appreciation, he supposedly promised to leave the throne to Duke William.

Harald Hardrada
King of Norway
The Norwegian king had the weakest claim to the throne and was merely attempting to exploit a great opportunity to further his wealth and prestige through the conquest of rich and prosperous England.

Below
The Battle of Hastings proved pivotal for William the Conqueror

Brothers in arms William leaves Normandy to carry out a campaign against Duke Conan II of Brittany and forces Harold to accompany him

The oath
Back in Normandy, Harold swears an oath to uphold William’s claim to the English throne over holy relics in Bayeux, most likely under duress

6 ways William changed Europe

1The conquest of England strengthened the bond between the British Isles and the European mainland considerably, especially in religious institutions.
2The effectiveness of knights at the Battle of Hastings and the domination by Norman armies led to an increased use of cavalry in warfare in England.
3William introduced the English to the advanced continental castle fortifications by constructing many of his own to help his army occupy the country.
4William’s gradual but effective purge of nearly all Anglo-Saxon secular and lay magnates led to an almost entirely Norman aristocracy in England.
5The Norman process of rebuilding the religious structures of England created a unique Anglo-Norman style for most local churches.
6In one of his many tense conflicts with the papacy, William successfully defended the rights of Norman dukes to select their own bishops.

the union was a mere strategic alliance with one of the most powerful magnates of northern France. However, over time the couple fell deeply in love with one another. William remained completely devoted to her for the rest of his life and even trusted her with some of the most important positions in his lands.
The increasing power of Duke William led to the joint invasion of Normandy by his two major rivals, Count Geoffrey and King Henry, in 1053. Divided in two, the invasion forces failed utterly as one army was defeated at Mortemer and the other retreated in response. The rivals made another attempt in 1057, but William crushed the allied army at the Battle of Varaville. Within a few years the campaigns ceased, for both Henry and Geoffrey died. With his main adversaries gone and stability finally reached within his duchy, William was no longer forced to defend his lands and was free to go on the offensive.
Shortly after the death of Count Herbert II of Maine on 9 March 1062, William led his first major conquest over the deceased magnate’s territory. The duke claimed that Herbert had named him as his heir to the county so from that justification, William claimed the land of a vassal of his enemy, the count of Anjou, by 1064. Two years later, the duke made similar statements to justify the conquest of a much greater prize than the county of Maine.
In either 1064 or 1065, Harold Godwinson, Earl of Wessex, crossed the English Channel and accidentally landed in the territory of Count Guy of Ponthieu. Guy ordered his men to capture the wealthy Anglo-Saxon noble and imprisoned him, along with his retinue, in the castle of Beaurain. Once word reached William of Harold’s condition, the duke immediately seized the opportunity. William forced his vassal, Guy, to release Harold and bring the English earl to him. Once in his custody, William did all he could to manipulate Harold into helping him attain his most ambitious prize, the throne of England.
As a child, the king of England, Edward the Confessor, was forced to flee his country and live as an exile in the Norman court of his uncle, Duke Richard II. Danish King Cnut invaded England in 1016 and eventually claimed the English crown, removing Edward’s family from the succession. Then in 1042, Edward was allowed to return home and regain his birthright, the throne of England. A major reason for the king’s return was the support given to him by the powerful Godwin family of Wessex. In gratitude, the new king bestowed lands and titles upon Harold and his brother; this alliance was then strengthened considerably in January 1045, when Edward married Harold’s sister Edith, thus making the two men brothers-in-law. Since Edward had family connections and owed huge debts to both William and Harold, both men believed they should be the primary heirs of the old king who had no heir.With Harold held hostage, William attempted to use a combination of flattery and threats to get the English magnate to not only accept his claim, but also help him attain the English throne upon the death of the ageing Edward. Therefore, Harold accompanied William on his invasion of Brittany in 1064, and when they returned to Normandy, Harold swore an oath of fealty to William. Certain he had achieved his goal, William let the Earl of Wessex return to his island.
Upon Edward’s death, it became clear that Harold made his oath to William under duress and thus considered it completely invalid. He also quickly cemented his claim to the throne with the support of several witnesses to Edward naming Harold as his heir, along with earning the election of the Witan, a council of English nobles. The English may have accepted King Harold II, but William did not. William was certain that he had promised the throne to him; he would not forget that fact, nor would he let the English.
The situation looked bleak for Harold later in 1066. While William gathered a large invasion force and enormous fleet of 700 ships, King Harald Hardrada of Norway decided to exploit the vulnerability of England and invade as well. However, Harold and his Anglo-Saxon

Harold is crowned
On 6 January 1066, Harold ascends to the throne of England after the funeral ceremony of the deceased King Edward the Confessor

LEFT
Some accounts claim William’s forces pillaged the English countryside after his invasion
RIGHT
Built in 1068, Warwick Castle still stands tall today

The crossing
William leads his army to the coast where the soldiers embark on 700 ships to cross the Channel

ABOVE
An artwork depicting Harold II swearing fealty to William of Normandy

Henry I
King of France
After helping William keep control over his duchy at the Battle of Val-ès-Dunes in 1047, Henry soon became threatened by the new duke’s growing power. The king led two unsuccessful invasions of Normandy in 1053-4 and 1057 to try and subdue his rival.
Fulk IV le Réchin
Count of Anjou
Once he seized the county from his brother, Geoffrey III, in 1068, Count Fulk of Anjou secured an alliance with King Philip against William. Beginning in the early-1070s, he attempted to reclaim Maine on several occasions, but failed.
Philip I
King of France
Threatened by his vassal as king of England, Philip made alliances with Anjou and Flanders to counter the strength of Normandy. Philip’s insult infuriated William so much that his enthusiasm to seek vengeance at Mantes led to his death.

French continental rivals

Inside a Norman Castle

The castles William introduced were designed to be impenetrable

Bakery
The internal supply of bread was essential during any long sieges, so it was essential for the keep to bake its own

Main tower
The castle’s main tower is the last strong haven in its defence. A potent symbol of power, taking custody of it was very important

Chapel
Was usually located under the armoury and above the ladies’ bedrooms and the provisions storage. It welcomed religious affairs

Drinkable water
The rainwater cistern, channelled from the wall, guaranteed automatic storage even during droughts and hard times like sieges

Blacksmith
The forging of metals for arms and armour was carried out here by the blacksmiths. The carpenters worked around and nearby them

The Battle of Hastings
The Norman knights charge uphill to reach Senlac Ridge where they attempt to break through the solid shield wall of the Anglo-Saxon infantry

Treasure hall
The lower part of the main tower, under the principals’ kitchen and bedrooms, was used to store the castle owner’s wealth

Throne hall
The centre of the castle’s authority, in this impressive hall orders were dictated and guests were received

Latrines
They were located in separate places and were for common use. The moat was the residual water’s final destination

Dungeons
The prisoners suffered captivity and torture in these facilities, generally located at the top of a tower or below ground

Above
William the Conqueror was crowned king on Christmas Day 1066

army managed to crush the Norwegians on 25 September at the Battle of Stamford Bridge. They were then forced to travel hundreds of miles south to confront the Normans. Although William faced a few setbacks, he landed in England shortly after on 28 September fully confident and immediately began to order his men to construct castles at Pevensey and Hastings to secure his new realm as he advanced to meet Harold.
Fought on 14 October 1066, the bloody and brutal Battle of Hastings lasted throughout the entire day and only ended once Harold was slain. The English gradually submitted during the following weeks and by the end of the year, William had his coronation in London. Although resistance to the foreign regime persisted for several years, the English never again formed a united front. To quell the revolts, William initiated a process of extreme fortification building and slowly removed the English from positions of power to be replaced by Norman men of his choice, like his trusted friends Roger II of Montgomery and William FitzOsbern.
When those methods did not work to subdue the north, the new king was once again forced to use his last resort; horrific violence. In 1070, King William reached his breaking point trying to put down rebellions in the region, so he decided to turn it into a wasteland. Many people were slaughtered, churches were ransacked, crops were destroyed and livestock killed. In the end, those that survived succumbed to starvation, leaving very little of the population who could ably revolt.
For the last two decades of his life, William’s days as a conqueror were over. With the Scots supporting the remaining English rebels, the re-emergence of Anjou and the kingdom of France, as well as the continual threats of Danish invasions of England, enemies surrounded William, but he always managed to keep hold of his territory. Even when his son Robert Curthose rebelled against him in 1078, William effectively handled the revolt just as he had throughout his entire reign, although he was deeply hurt by the break with his heir. To make matters worse, he caught his brother Odo in an attempt to take William’s warriors to try to make himself pope. Then, the heartbreak for William reached its apex in 1083 when his beloved wife Matilda passed away on 2 November.
William was never able to fully amend the relationship with his son while alive, but he did accomplish one last great achievement when he commissioned the creation of the Domesday Book in 1085. To take stock of his kingdom William had the most comprehensive survey of any preindustrial civilisation in the world created, giving a priceless, incredibly in-depth view of 11th-century England. Shortly after this grand act, William attempted to once again prove his martial prowess through the conquest of the Vexin. Old age had taken its toll, leading King Philip I to insult William with a remark equating him to a pregnant woman because of his increasing corpulence. Sent into his typical rage, William stormed Mantes in retaliation. But as his men burned the town, William’s enthusiasm led his horse to rear up and slam the pommel of his saddle into his stomach.
On 9 September, King William succumbed to the intense internal bleeding caused by the injury. In one final act of reconciliation, his son Robert was still allowed to succeed him as Duke of Normandy. However, the conquests he fought so hard to attain were divided as the Kingdom of England went to his younger son, William Rufus. Therefore, the short-lived Empire of Normandy died with the formidable ruler who created it.

Harold Godwinson  is killed
Once Harold is slain the Anglo-Saxon resistance ceases and the English army flees from the battlefield with the Normans in pursuit

Clash

Crowns 1066

When three kings rose to claim Edward the Confessor’s crown, England’s fate would be decided with steel and blood

Harold Godwinson’s army was exhausted. Just weeks ago they had claimed victory against a Nordic invasion in a long, brutal battle at Stamford Bridge. They had marched approximately 400 kilometres with their weapons, gear and armour. It was during this march that Harold had received news of William of Normandy’s landing on the shore of Pevensey. With a great deal of his men still in the north, Harold had no choice but to push onwards to meet the infamous Norman Bastard in combat. As Harold stood on the hill overlooking what is today the town of Battle, near Hastings, with his banners wafting in the morning breeze, he observed his army – they were wearied, sick, and still nursing wounds from Stamford. But there was nothing he could do, these were the men with whom England’s fate rested, for William was coming for his crown whether he was ready or not.
Edward the Confessor (so called for his piety) had reigned for 23 years, fairly long for an Anglo-Saxon monarch, but he had not borne any heirs. In fact, Edward had turned this to his advantage. With so many ambitious nobles jostling for position, he used the inheritance of his kingdom as a diplomatic tool, and one that, he was likely aware, he would not personally feel the repercussions of. However, this was all fated to come to a head: towards the end of 1065, Edward became severely ill and fell into a coma. He briefly regained consciousness long enough to place his widow and his kingdom under the protection of his brother-in-law, Harold Godwinson, before passing away.
There is much debate over what exactly Edward meant by ‘protection’, and whether he was actually bestowing Harold his kingdom or just employing him to help the next man who would rule it. However, these arguments are, on the whole, irrelevant. Although he was free to nominate a man of his choosing, it wasn’t an Anglo-Saxon king’s right to decide who would be his successor; that responsibility instead fell to the Witenaġemot, the king’s council of advisers. The Witenaġemot had already begun to debate who would be the right man for the job before Edward’s death. They decreed that he needed to be English, of good character and of royal blood – and luckily for Harold, he ticked all these boxes.
Despite a tumultuous family history, Harold had steadfastly and loyally served Edward for years,

Harold Godwinson and William both had claims to the English throne; Harald Hardrada was an opportunist

ABOVE
The Battle Of Hastings by Frank Wilkin shows William being offered the crown of England from Harold’s body

eventually becoming a trusted adviser. As Earl of Wessex, he was already one of the most powerful men in the country, and he had proved himself multiple times in battle. Edward had also married Harold’s sister and his family had ties with Cnut the Great. Perhaps most importantly, Harold held esteem with the elite of English society – he was well liked and reliable (his father was also the richest man in England). In fact, Harold’s worthiness was so unanimously agreed by the Witenaġemot that no other names were even suggested. William and other contenders would later claim that Harold had stolen the throne, even that he had murdered Edward to do it, but Harold didn’t ‘grab’ the kingdom, he was gifted it.
Harold seemed to be the perfect king: he was tall, eloquent and a skilled soldier, however, his reign would be one of the most turbulent and infamous in English history. Someone else had his gaze fixed on Edward’s throne, and when Harold was crowned, William, duke of Normandy, was furious. William fervently believed England was his by birthright as he and Edward were distant cousins. He also claimed that some years earlier Edward had stated that he was his successor, and this message had been carried to him by none other than Harold Godwinson himself.
The legitimacy of this story is in some dispute; certainly Edward likely promised the kingdom to a host of nobles throughout his reign, but William did not seem to understand that England was not Edward’s to give. No other action in Edward’s reign indicates that he had chosen William to be his heir. The duke, however, was convinced that the kingdom was his, and set his sights on usurping the ambitious upstart, Harold Godwinson. He immediately made plans to invade England, building a fleet of around 700 ships to carry his army across the English Channel.
Initially William struggled to gain support for his invasion, but when he revealed that Harold had apparently sworn upon sacred relics that he would support William’s claim, the church became involved. The finances and nobles provided by the church swelled William’s pockets and his army. Harold, well aware of the fiery duke’s intentions, assembled his army on the Isle of Wight. However, William did not come. Unfavourable winds halted the would-be conqueror’s ships and, with his provisions running low, Harold disbanded his army and returned to London.
Harold probably knew that William would be coming sooner rather than later, however, he had another issue to deal with – sibling rivalry. On the same day as Harold’s return to London, Harald Hardrada of Norway, also known as the last great Viking king, landed his fleet of longships on the mouth of the Tyne and joined up with Tostig Godwinson, Harold’s younger brother.
Tostig had previously ruled the kingdom of Northumbria, an earldom stretching from the Humber to the Tweed, but his brutal and heavy-handed tendencies had caused him to grow increasingly unpopular with his subjects. In 1065, the thegns of York occupied the city, killed Tostig’s officials and outlawed the man himself. The rebels were so furious with Tostig that they demanded Edward exile him, however, it wasn’t the king who met with them, but his loyal advisor Harold. Using his strong influence, Harold had Tostig officially outlawed. But the younger brother was not one to take things lying down, and at a meeting of the king and his council, he intervened and publicly accused Harold of conspiring against him. Harold, already aware of the dire state of England at the time, and the imminent threat of William, exiled his own brother. It is likely that Harold took the action he did against his own kin to ensure peace and loyalty in the north – an impossibility with Tostig in charge. However, his younger brother resented him for it. As he fled England and took refuge in Flanders, Tostig let fantasies of vengeance consume him and began to plot his return. Tostig knew he didn’t have enough power alone to topple his older brother, so he set about making powerful alliances; he even sought an alliance with William before finally striking gold with King Harald III of Norway.

Harold Godwinson’s sister was the wife of Edward the Confessor, and his family were one of England’s most powerful

20 September 1066
The Norse invaders win at the Battle of Fulford; the city of  York surrenders.

25 September 1066
Harold destroys Harald and Tostig’s forces at the battle of Stamford Bridge.

14 October 1066
King Harold is killed and the Normans are victorious.

28 September 1066
Approximately 700 Norman ships land in Pevensey.

The invasions of 1066

The complex troop movements of the battles that ended in the Norman Conquest of England and William’s rule

8 September 1066
240-300 Viking long ships arrive at Tynemouth.

24 September 1066
Harold arrives in Tadcaster. His army has marched more than 320 kilometres from London.

September 1066
25-30 Norwegian ships leave the coast.

13 October 1066
Harold’s force arrives at Hastings after a lightning-quick march from Stamford Bridge.

14 October 1066
Armies approximately 5,000-7,000 men strong fight at the Battle of Hastings.

ABOVE
King Harold Godwinson beholds the body of his rebellious brother Tostig, who lies beside Harald Hardrada

Hardrada’s claim to the throne was even looser than William’s. England had previously been ruled by the king of Denmark, Harthacnut, who made an agreement with Magnus, the king of Norway, that if one of them died without an heir, the other would inherit his throne. Harthacnut died childless, so Magnus took the crown of Denmark. However, Edward the Confessor was crowned king of England in his absence. Harald was Magnus’s uncle and his co-king, so believed England belonged to him. The idea that his kingdom was being ruled by the son of one of Edward’s advisers was outrageous for the Nordic king, and he set his sights on expanding his kingdom.
Whether Hardrada made an agreement with Tostig before setting sail or not is unknown, but either way Hardrada departed in August and met up with Tostig on 8 September. It was clear that Tostig needed Hardrada’s help with the invasion, he had a mere 12 ships to Hardrada’s 240 minimum. Hardrada spent some time sacking and burning coastal villages, but he then set his sights on York, Tostig’s old stomping ground. Hardrada had the men and Tostig knew the lay of the land better than anyone, so together they made an alarming foe to be reckoned with.
The two men who would have to face this united force were Edwin and Morcar, the ealdormen of Mercia and Northumbria. They knew of Tostig and Hardrada’s advances through their lands and had already gathered their forces, approximately 5,000 strong, to take down the invaders in what they expected to be a straightforward battle. The armies finally met at Fulford, on the outskirts of York.
The scene of the clash was wet and sodden marshland. The English positioned themselves with the River Ouse on their right flank and the swampy area on their left, a tactic that relied on both flanks holding their own against the invaders. Hardrada, meanwhile, had to think quickly – the English army had confronted him before he could assemble all his men, and many of them were hours away, so he had to be cunning with his deployment. He placed his less experienced troops to the right and kept his best troops with him on the riverbank. The English had caught wind of Harald’s delays and so struck quickly. They charged forward against the Norwegian line and, immediately overwhelmed, the Nordics were pushed all the way back to the marshlands.
Hardrada then saw his chance. As the English advanced, he sent the bulk of his troops to sweep around them in a pincer movement, trapping them against the ditch and separating them from the other English flank. As more Norwegians arrived, they opened up a third front against the Anglo-Saxons. The combat in the marshland was brutal and ferocious, with both armies fighting frantically through the thick, sludgy mud. However, the English were now outnumbered by the Norse men, many of them were unable to escape the ditch and those that managed to climb out fled for their lives. Eventually there were so many English bodies strewn across the ground that the invaders could advance without getting their feet wet.
With such a definite defeat, York was promptly surrendered to Hardrada and Tostig with the promise that they would not force entry. This was accepted, perhaps because the duo did not wish to subject their new capital to looting. Instead they arranged that various hostages would be handed over at Stamford Bridge, some 11 kilometres away, which is where the two men chose to retire. The battle at Fulford would not only be Hardrada’s last victory, but it would be the last time a largely Scandinavian army would defeat the English.
Little did the victorious invaders know, Harold and his men had been marching day and night from London. Despite the imminent threat of an invasion by William, Harold was so determined to repel the invaders that he and his army achieved the astounding feat of travelling almost 300 kilometres in just four days. Tostig and Hardrada were likely expecting Harold’s eventual rebuttal but neither of them had any comprehension of the monumental journey that the king and his army had embarked on, and neither of them suspected a thing as they headed to Stamford Bridge to collect their additional hostages.
Spirits were high for the invaders’ men; many of them had even left their armour behind on their ships, and some were simply relaxing in the meadows or out hunting when they spied Harold’s men. From the south streamed a horde of Anglo-Saxons fully armed and ready for battle. There is no doubt that the English would have been exhausted, but the Norse were completely and utterly unprepared. According to one account, a brave man rode up to Hardrada and Tostig before the battle began, offering the rebellious brother his earldom if he would turn on the Nordic king. Tostig then asked the rider what Hardrada would get, to which the rider replied, “Six feet of ground… or as much more as he needs, as he is taller than most men.” Impressed by the rider, Hardrada asked Tostig for his name; Tostig revealed that it was none other than Harold himself.
Whether this account is true or not, neither party was in the mood for deals or truces, this was to be decided once and for all the old fashioned way. Once the scrambled Nordic forces gathered together, they deployed in a defensive position. The English cut through the invaders on the west side of the River Derwent with ease, however, the bridge itself presented them with problems. They would have to pass through the vulnerable chokehold to continue their advance, and according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, one man stood in their way. A huge Norse axe-man guarded the narrow crossing of the bridge alone, holding back the entire English army. He brutally cut down anyone who approached, until eventually he was defeated by an English soldier who floated downstream in a barrel and thrust his spear up through the bridge.
This delay gave the Nordics time to assemble a triangular shield wall, and this was where the real battle began. The tired but determined Anglo-Saxons clashed repeatedly against the Nordic shields, hammering them over and over again. The fighting lasted for hours, with the advantage

Right
Harold was the last Anglo-Saxon king of England

Harald Hardrada believed that his fiscal relationship with the Norwegian throne gave him a right to England’s crown

Edwin returns to York
Edwin’s soldiers, still defending the bank, are cut off from the rest of the English forces by the marsh, so they retreat to York to plan a final stand

Harald’s counter
After waiting for the English to tire in the boggy marshlands, Harald leads the bulk of his army in a brutal charge; unlike the English, they are fresh and alert

The battle of Fulford

Often forgotten or ignored, this was a pivotal point in the invasions of 1066 and, ultimately, in deciding England’s fate

The English advance
As the sun rises, the housecarls of Edwin and Morcar block the Norwegians’ route to York by advancing on a ditch leading east from the River Ouse

A battle of three fronts
As the Norse jostle their way behind the English, the Anglo-Saxon forces at the beck, now massively outnumbered, have no option but to retreat

Norwegians close in
The defenders in the beck now face not only the Norwegians from the front but also from the right, and begin to yield to the invaders

The first confrontation
While Harald is still waiting for all his troops to arrive, the Anglo-Saxons strike, pushing the Norwegians back to the marshlands

Norwegians

COMMANDERS: Harald Hardrada, Tostig Godwinson
TROOPS: Approx 10,000, of which 6,000 were deployed
KEY UNIT: Experienced warriors positioned on the firm ground near the riverbank
STRENGTHS: Strong starting position, which gave Harald the higher ground, and sheer force  of numbers
WEAKNESSES: None
CASUALTIES AND LOSSES: Approximately 750

VS

Saxons

COMMANDERS: Morcar of Northumbria, Edwin of Mercia
TROOPS: Approx 5,000
Key unit: Shieldmen
STRENGTHS: An early attack before the full Viking force arrived
WEAKNESSES: Disadvantaged starting position, boggy land
CASUALTIES AND LOSSES:  Up to 1,000

Right
The battle devolved into a brutal clash against the Norse shield wall

The battle of Stamford Bridge

Harold’s men finally met the invaders at Stamford Bridge in a battle that would make and break the English king

The shield wall breaks
Overwhelmed by the sheer number of English, the Norwegian shield wall is broken; survivors flee across the bridge

Surprise attack
After agreements were made to hand over hostages to Hardrada at Stamford Bridge, Harold’s troops take the Norwegians totally by surprise by streaming in from the south

The shield wall goes up
Rushing to put on their fighting gear, the invaders hastily put up a defensive shield wall on the west side of the bridge

The Anglo-Saxon wave
The Norwegians have time to put up a shield wall but as the English pour across the bridge, brutal fighting wages. Ultimately, the shield wall falls and Tostig and Hardrada join the fallen

The chokehold
According to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, a lone axe-man stays behind to block the narrow crossing of the bridge, killing 40 Englishmen until he is finally wounded

Delayed reinforcements
Norwegian reinforcements, led by Orre, arrive. They briefly cause considerable damage to the English flank, but the Anglo-Saxons regroup and defeat them. Survivors drown in the rivers as they rush to escape

COMMANDERS: Harald Hardrada, Tostig Godwinson
TROOPS: Approx 9,000, 3,000  of which arrived late
KEY UNIT: Axe-men
STRENGTHS: An almost impenetrable shield wall
WEAKNESSES: Unprepared, many men were without armour
CASUALTIES AND LOSSES:  Approx 6,000

COMMANDER: Harold Godwinson
TROOPS: Approx 15,000, significantly more than the norwegian force
KEY UNIT: The professional housecarls
STRENGTHS: The element of surprise
WEAKNESSES: Forced to cross the narrow choke-point of the bridge
CASUALTIES AND LOSSES: Approx 5,000

changing hands many times throughout. However, the Nordics’ lack of armour cost them dearly and the ranks began to fall. Hardrada –a giant of a man and the last Viking king – was slain by an arrow to his windpipe and Tostig too met his end in the land he had fought for his entire adult life. Even reinforcements led by Eystein Orre, who had rushed all the way from Riccall, were not enough to quash the Anglo-Saxon army. This force, known as Orre’s storm, was so fatigued that it is said many collapsed and died of exhaustion as they reached the field. Although they were able to briefly hold back the defenders, they too fell victim to Harold’s determination, and then they fled for their lives.
For Harold, Stamford Bridge was an epic victory and cemented his position as a strong and reliable English king. However, it would also forever be intrinsically linked to his downfall. Just three days after Harold’s success, another would-be king landed on his shores. William had finally arrived.
Harold feared William for good reason; the Duke of Normandy had a fearsome reputation, and this was not all bravado. William had been born to his father’s mistress, and his illegitimate status had plagued him throughout his life. Commonly referred to as ‘The Bastard’ by his enemies, William was a man who, from the age of seven or eight, had faced constant criticism and challenge because of who he was. Throughout his life he had to fight for everything he had. William had grown up in a land gripped by war and chaos, he had been jostled between ambitious nobles who wished to use him for power, and from his earliest years of rule he had to squash constant rebellions. In spite of this, through sheer determination and a clever marriage to Matilda of Flanders, William ‘The Bastard’ had managed to consolidate power in Normandy against all odds.
This whole experience had made the duke hard, tough and fiercely determined to succeed – there wasn’t much in life that could hold William back, and Harold claiming the throne that was rightfully his was not something he could just stand by and accept. The two men were no strangers – William had saved Harold when he was held hostage and the two men proceeded to fight side by side. Harold was even recorded as having rescued two of William’s soldiers from quicksand. Together the two defeated William’s enemy, Conan II, and William thanked Harold for his services with a knighthood. If William’s claim was true, and Harold did swear an oath to the duke, then it is easy to understand why this hot-blooded warrior was furious at Harold’s betrayal. Once a friend, he was now an enemy, and William knew only one way to deal with enemies: war was in his blood, he was moulded by it.
William’s timing was disastrous for Harold but hugely beneficial to himself. The duke had enough time to build a wooden castle at Hastings, raid the surrounding area and thoroughly prepare his force for the oncoming storm. Harold, meanwhile, was anything but prepared. The English king had left a great number of his forces in the north, and the men he did bring had to march south from London in approximately a week. By the time they reached Senlac Hill, near Hastings, the troops were absolutely exhausted.
Harold knew his surprise tactics would not work here, so he set up his army in a defensive position atop the hill. Each of his flanks was protected by marshy land that would make an enemy advance difficult. He positioned his strongest fighters, the housecarls, at the front of his shield wall. At 9am, the trumpets rang out and the Normans moved. The archers attacked first, sending arrows raining over the English men. However, Harold’s position on the hill, and his soldiers’ sturdy shields, prevented much damage.
William decided that if the archers couldn’t do it then he would have to act quickly. He sent his army forward in three groups, with himself riding through the middle, the papal banner billowing above his head. The attackers rode hard, but they were still unable to break the Anglo-Saxon shield wall, and they retreated once more. Harold’s men, excited by what seemed like another victory, gave chase to the fleeing Normans. It was at this point that a rumour began to circulate that William had been killed. Sensing a lull in morale, the duke pushed back his helmet and rode among his men, commanding them to attack the English who had broken away from the hill. With a revitalised Norman force, the English were overwhelmed, and few who descended the hill survived.
At around midday, there was a lull in the battle, with both sides resting and replenishing their strength, it was then that William decided to change tactics. Witnessing the victory of the previous English pursuit, he decided to draw them out again. When the battle resumed, the Norman cavalry thundered forward into the shield wall.

The victory at Stamford Bridge gave Harold’s forces a morale boost, but ultimately sapped their strength for Hastings

ABOVE
The name ‘Hardrada’ was actually a nickname Harald earned meaning ‘Hard Ruler’
BELOW
A silver penny showing
a contemporary, if rather faded, depiction of Harold Godwinson

The fighting was brutal and desperate, with Harold’s own brothers cut down in the melee, but still the shield wall held. As ordered, the Normans retreated and once more Harold’s men pursued them down the hill. All at once William’s soldiers turned and attacked the English.
The battle raged on until 4pm, and with the English numbers now depleted, the shield wall grew shorter and weaker. William saw his opportunity and sent his whole army up the hill, while the archers continued to shoot, and this time it worked. The shield wall finally broke and the Normans wreaked havoc, cutting down Harold’s remaining housecarls and, at some point, the cursed king himself.
It is of some debate if Harold died as a result of an arrow to the eye or was felled with a sword, as the famous Bayeux Tapestry depicts both. What we do know is that his death had a tremendous effect on his men. Leaderless, the Anglo-Saxons began to flee the field into the woods behind. However, Harold’s loyal soldiers remained by his body and fought until the end.
Hastings was not an easy-won battle. William too lost a great number of his men, and bodies were still found on the hillside years later. When Harold’s mother requested that William return her son’s body to him, he refused, stating that Harold should be buried on the shore of the land he sought to guard. Still rumours persisted that Harold had not died at all, but instead had gone into hiding, to one day return and reclaim his land. The people’s love for Harold was still strong, and although William may have won the battle, the war to truly become the ruler of England was one that would wage for years to come. William’s victory at Hastings was decisive, but it was not the final one: it would take further years of brutal subjugation, changing the land, its language and inhabitants, for the Normans to triumph.

Above
This rather anachronistic 13th-century manuscript shows Harold being killed by William at Hastings

What if?

29 September 1066

20 September 1066

28 September 1066

With the clash of three kings, England faced three fates

The Saxon earls  triumph at Fulford
Harald Hardrada and Tostig are defeated at Fulford by the northern earls, Edwin and Morcar.

Godwinson’s troops  march south
Aware that William’s ships are incoming, Godwinson marches his army south from London to meet them.

Saxons defeat  the Normans
With a well-rested army, Harold is able to fight off William and the Norman invaders at Hastings; Harold is celebrated as a hero.

January 1066

September 1066

William prepares  for invasion
Believing himself the rightful heir, William gathers an army of noblemen and a fleet of 700 vessels.

Harald Hardrada’s forces invade
Also believing the crown to be rightfully his, Norse king Harald Hardrada invades England, sailing up the Ouse to land in Yorkshire.

The Anglo-Saxons are defeated at Fulford
Harald is confronted by Harold’s earls and they do battle at Fulford. The Saxons are outnumbered and the Norwegians claim York.

25 September 1066

14 October 1066

25 December 1066

Anglo-Saxons triumph  at Stamford Bridge
After marching his men North, Harold faces the invaders and defeats them at Stamford Bridge, killing Harald Hardrada.

Harold Godwinson defeated at Hastings
After William’s fleet crosses the Channel, Harold faces them at the Battle of Hastings. But the English are tired and ultimately lose to the invaders.

William crowned king
William initially faces opposition but after capturing London he is finally crowned king. Rebellions would continue to rock the country for years after.

key

Real timeline
King Hardrada timeline
King Godwinson timeline

Nordic triumph at  Stamford Bridge
Despite being ambushed by the Saxons, the Nordic forces triumph over Harold’s men, and Harold himself is killed.

Nordics defeat Normans
Hardrada’s forces are amply prepared to face William’s, and after a brutal battle, the Norman would-be conqueror is defeated by the Norwegians.

The battle of Hastings

The pivotal clash that would forever alter the destiny of medieval England and cement 1066 as one of the most important dates in English history

Harold sets up his base
Harold’s army establishes a position on Senlac Hill, then sets up a fence of sharpened stakes along a ditch. The king orders his men to remain in this position no matter what

Right on target
William’s archers fire before and after the assaults and Harold is hit and killed, most commonly believed to be by an arrow to the eye. Leaderless, the English forces flee

The Normans retreat
William’s men are met by a barrage of spears and axes, and are forced to retreat. A rumour quickly spreads that William has been killed

The Saxons move
English forces break away from their position and pursue the invaders. William’s presence on the field spurs a counterattack and the English are overwhelmed

The battle begins
William orders his archers to shoot into the Saxon shield wall, when this fails his spearmen and cavalry lead an assault

A tactic emerges
William sends his cavalry to the shield wall then draws the Saxons into more pursuits by feigning flights. Still the shield wall does not break

normans

COMMANDER: William of Normandy
TROOPS: Unknown, approx  7,000-12,000
KEY UNIT: Norman cavalry
STRENGTHS: An experienced leader and rested troops
WEAKNESSES: Weak starting position: the English were  positioned on the top of the hill  with their flanks protected
CASUALTIES AND LOSSES: Unknown but the figures were heavy. However, not as high as the Saxon losses

COMMANDER:  Harold Godwinson
TROOPS: Unknown, approx 5,000-13,000
KEY UNIT: The king’s bodyguards, or ‘housecarls’
STRENGTHS: The tremendously deadly battle-axes
WEAKNESSES: Significant losses recently endured at the battle of Stamford Bridge, lack of cavalry
CASUALTIES AND LOSSES: Approx 50 per cent of the force

10 October 1066

Normandy falls  into disarray
Left leaderless, with a king in his infancy, Normandy descends into civil strife that will continue for two decades.

1068

A kingdom at peace
Through careful negotiation, Harold is able to contain the raids by the Celts and strike a deal with Wales and Scotland, leaving the island divided, but at peace.

1072

England grows strong
Harold exploits France, claiming many strategic ports without issue. He also forms strong bonds with Scandinavia, making him a powerful figure on the globe.

1200s

1300s

The Northern Empire expands
With its strong trade routes, the Northern Empire of Europe steadily expands. This trade network spans all the way from the Americas to the eastern Mediterranean.

Southern Europe falls
After many wars between the countries of southern Europe, the Northern Empire fully dominates Europe, with Scandinavian culture engulfing the Latin influences.

1069-70

1080s

William strikes back
In response to the Northern rebels, William carries out a series of bloody campaigns known as the Harrying of the North.

The Tower of London is built
In an effort to secure control over England, William orders the construction of many castles, the most famous being the White Tower of the Tower of London.

1085

9 September 1087

The Domesday Book is created
To further secure the land holdings of himself and his vassals, William orders the creation of the Domesday Book.

Death of William
While on a military campaign, William falls ill and dies. His death begins a war between his two sons for control of his kingdoms of England and Normandy.

1135-54

Civil war reigns supreme
After the death of William’s fourth son, Henry I, a succession crisis sparks a brutal civil war known as the Anarchy.

21 November 1066

Hardrada is crowned
In a country that has previously been ruled by Scandinavian kings, Hardrada is able to persuade any would-be rebels to accept his rule.

England gets Norse
Nordic influences take hold of England: the  language becomes heavily Nordic, and the battle-axe becomes the primary weapon of choice.

1110

1200

Norway grows strong
With Norway growing stronger, it faces its enemy France in a bloody war that wages for years. Finally the Nordic forces claim victory and the spoils are divided.

The Nordic Empire expands
The Nordic Empire becomes one of the most formidable in Europe; this powerful axis crushes the influence of the Catholic Church and its associated nations.

1390

America is found
Due to the strong British/Norse partnership, the Nordics land in America, claiming the land long before their Spanish rivals. The country is quickly developed.

Norman

Conquests

The Normans didn’t just conquer England. These ex-Vikings carved out kingdoms and principalities through Europe and beyond

The king, Charles the Simple, lord of the Franks, stood waiting. Before him, the nominated Northman hesitated. What was he waiting for? It was all straightforward. The king had signed a treaty with the Northmen, ceding them the territory north of the River Epte to the coast, in return for their allegiance and conversion to Christianity. He had stood godfather to Rollo, the leader of the Northmen, at his baptism, and received his pledge of loyalty by taking the Northman’s hands in his own. Now, to really underline who was in charge, one of the Northmen just had to kiss the king’s foot. So why was he hesitating?
But before Charles could turn to his bishops, who had suggested the foot-kissing, to ask about the delay, the Northman, one of Rollo’s chief warriors, finally bent down. Put instead of putting his lips to the king’s foot, he grasped the foot and raised it, forcefully, up to his face. Taken by surprise, the king toppled over backwards.
This was in 911. Having raided extensively in France and Britain, Rollo and his band of Vikings settled around Rouen in the lower reaches of the River Seine, sea raiders turned land wardens through signing the Treaty of Saint-Clair-sur-Epte. By 933, the Northmen, or Normans, had expanded the territory under their control to encompass almost all of the historic territory of the Duchy of Normandy. The Northmen had quickly abandoned their previous language, Old Norse, learning French, and just as quickly they forswore their old pagan gods, becoming devout and determined Christians instead.
But while the Normans had adopted some key aspects of Frankish civilisation, they retained many characteristics from their days as sea raiders, most notably restlessness and tactical cunning. But this amalgamation of Christian and Viking cultures produced something new: a reckless courage that often enabled them to face and defeat enemies who had apparently overwhelming numerical superiority. For the pagan Vikings, raiding and conquest was a matter of business: unless victory was practically certain they preferred to withdraw and fight again another day. But the Normans, fired by a new faith, really believed that by courage and daring, and with God’s aid, they could overcome any odds. So they set out to do so.
In this they were greatly aided by adopting the military practices of the Franks. Once sea raiders, the Normans quickly became the most skilled knights in Europe, training their sons in the art of cavalry warfare from a young age. Having learned to move quickly and strike fast, the Normans adopted and refined the art of castle building, starting with the simple motte and bailey that could be thrown up quickly in newly conquered territory, through to the great stone keeps that enabled them to dominate these territories.
Pilgrimage united the Norman love of adventure, their restlessness and their religious

The Normans adopted Christianity with gusto, becoming a key force in the Crusades and building iconic churches

The Norman Conquests

Images; Adobe Stock; Getty;

Above
King John inherited property including England, Normandy, and parts of Ireland and France, then lost almost all of it

fervour. Many set out on the perilous journey to the Holy Land, which was still in Muslim hands and a dangerous place for Christians to visit, stopping off en route in southern Italy. There, in the early decades of the 11th century, Norman mercenaries were recruited to fight both for and against the Byzantines, leading to the creation of the first Norman dukedoms and principalities outside of France.
Tancred de Hauteville (980–1041), a minor Norman noble, would have been forgotten by history if not for his children: he produced 12 sons with two wives, many of whom left Normandy for the Mediterranean. William, Drogo and Humphrey, sons from Tancred’s first marriage, sailed to the Mezzogiorno around 1035, enlisting as mercenaries fighting for the Byzantines against the Arabs. After killing the emir of Syracuse in single combat, William got the nickname ‘Iron Arm’ and became the leader of the Normans in southern Italy, being proclaimed count of Apulia in 1042. Sending word back to their younger brothers in Normandy, the Hautevilles in the Mediterranean were joined by Robert, nicknamed Guiscard (which translates as ‘the resourceful’ or the less complimentary ‘fox’ or ‘weasel’) in 1047 and their youngest brother, Roger, in 1057. The two younger brothers conquered Calabria by 1060.
In Rome, the attitude of Pope Leo IX had swung from welcoming these potential allies against the Byzantines to fearing them, then to accommodating them at arm’s length in the hope that their taste for conquest could be directed elsewhere. And just across the Straits of Messina, in Muslim-controlled Sicily, there was the ideal target. So in 1061, Robert and Roger de Hauteville began the first Norman conquest of a large island. It took them 30 years to gain complete control of Sicily; the fortunes of war did not always run according to plan. But with Sicily taken, the brothers proved wise and skilful rulers. Robert took southern Italy, while Roger became the first Count of Sicily.  In Sicily, Roger declared Arabic an official language alongside Latin, Greek and Norman French, and recruited Muslim and Greek administrators to help govern the island. Under Roger and his son, Roger II, a unique Norman-Byzantine-Arab culture developed and flourished, producing architectural masterpieces such as the Cappella Palatina in Palermo and Monreale Cathedral, as well as fostering translations of classical works from Greek into Latin and developing and improving the agricultural techniques brought by the Arabs to Sicily. The island became a byword for good administration and brilliant culture.
From Sicily, the Normans established bases along the coast of north Africa, putting garrisons into major towns from 1146 onwards although their presence there was short-lived, coming to an end in 1180. Normans also served as mercenaries for the emperors of Byzantium, while Bohemund, one of the leaders of the First Crusade (1095 -1099), was the great grandson of that minor Norman noble, Tancred de Hauteville, who had sent his sons south fifty years earlier. Bohemund became Prince of Antioch, one of the Crusader states and the most easterly of the Norman conquests.
After their famous conquest of England in 1066, the most obvious direction for the Normans in Britain was west, into Wales. William installed some of his most powerful barons on the borderlands of the Marches, and gifted them great local power and almost complete autonomy. The Marcher lords became a power in their own right, and a threat to the English crown for the next few centuries, with Roger Mortimer even deposing Edward II in 1326 and becoming the ruler of England in all but name for three years. However, the Welsh threw back the initial Norman invasion and retained their independence until Edward I’s conquest two centuries later.
Within the British Isles, the greatest area of Norman influence, after England, was Ireland. Norman forces first landed in Ireland in May 1169, called to act as mercenaries for the king of Leinster. More Normans arrived in 1170, most notably Richard de Clare, ‘Strongbow’. While the invasion proved militarily successful, bringing Ireland into the Angevin Empire, the Anglo-Normans who arrived in Ireland, after initially settling in ethnic enclaves called ‘the Pale’ in the east of the country (hence the expression ‘beyond the pale’), married and merged into Irish culture, eventually becoming as committed to the country as the native Gaels. Norman influence in Ireland can be traced through the many surnames having Norman roots, including all those with the prefix ‘Fitz’, Barry, Burke, D’Arcy, Treacy and Lacy. What had started out as a roving group of Viking raiders and pillagers had come a long way, and forever altered the history of Europe and the wider world.

Abolitionist Normans

Anglo-Saxon England was famous for two exports above everything else: hunting dogs and slaves. Slavery was deeply embedded in Anglo-Saxon society, with at least ten per cent and maybe as much as 30 per cent of the population enslaved. The Anglo-Norman chronicler, William of Malmesbury, noted how slave traders would buy up people throughout England then export them. But William was writing about something that had ceased. By his time, some 60 years after the Conquest, the Norman kings had outlawed slavery. Historians, a sceptical bunch, used to think that the Normans ceased using slaves because rent-paying tenants were more profitable. But while that might have accounted for agricultural slaves, many female slaves were taken and kept as concubines. Moreover, England, with a vibrant economy and currency, continued the practice. It seems that the Normans abandoned slavery because of the moral scruples of their churchmen, who were in the vanguard of a great reform movement in the Church, and their ability to convince the nobility that slave taking and slave trading was wrong. Lanfranc, the Archbishop of Canterbury from 1070 onwards, was vociferous in his condemnation of slavery and William, Lanfranc’s pupil as a little boy, complied. The ban was not immediately effective – a Church council condemned slavery in 1102 – but by the time William of Malmesbury wrote in the 1120s, slavery had effectively ceased in England.

Above
Excavated manacles showing the chains Vikings used to restrain people taken to be sold as slaves

Defining moment
Treaty of Saint-Clair-sur-Epte 911
Charles the Simple decided to deal with the problem of Viking raiders by giving the raiders who had established a camp on the lower reaches of the Seine title to the land in return for their swearing allegiance to him, converting to Christianity, and their acting as wardens to prevent other Vikings sailing up the Seine to raid Paris. In return, the Vikings, led by their chief, Rollo, received the land between the River Epte and the coast. Rollo, now Count of Rouen, expanded the territory under his control and by 933 the Duchy of Normandy was established.

1002

1017

Marrying up
Emma, sister to the Duke of Normandy, married Æthelred, the king of England, bearing him two sons, and fatefully linking the English crown to the Dukes of Normandy.

Normans head south
The first Norman knights arrived in southern Italy on pilgrimage. They found a fractured political situation that welcomed effective mercenaries, so they stayed and gradually began to establish themselves there.

Defining moment
Sicily 1061
Five years before their duke in Normandy ventured across the English Channel, Robert Guiscard and his younger brother Roger sailed across the Straits of Messina and landed in Sicily, taking the strategically vital city of Messina, which commands the straits, unopposed after Roger took the garrison by surprise. Palermo fell ten years later and by 1085 they had the island under their control. It was an extraordinary achievement that highlighted the particular Norman combination of daring, cunning and determination. But it was their conduct as rulers that marked Robert and, especially, Roger as exceptional: they welded a disparate and often antagonistic population into a brilliant new culture.

1066

1098

The other conquest
The most famous date in English history led to the death of the last Anglo-Saxon king of England, the wholesale replacement of the Anglo-Saxon aristocracy by Normans and their allies, and the devastation and depopulation of much of the north, as William savagely repressed rebellions.

Crusade
Many Normans answered the pope’s call for a crusade to take back the Holy Land. Among the crusaders was Bohemund, great-grandson of Tancred, whose sons had established the kingdom of Sicily. Bohemund became the ruler of the principality of Antioch.

Warrior countess

Among the contending powers in southern Italy were the Lombards. To bring them onside, Robert Guiscard contracted marriage with Sikelgaita, the daughter of the Prince of Salerno, putting aside his previous wife to do so. It proved a splendid match. Sikelgaita was a remarkable woman, who had already studied at the medical school in Salerno, which was pioneering the treatment of illness, and according to the chroniclers she was as remarkable for her size and strength as for her learning. Once married, Sikelgaita took part in military campaigns – Robert trusted her to conduct the siege of Trani – and was one of his most trusted councillors. At the Battle of Dyrrachium in 1081, Sikelgaita took to the field in full armour and rallied the Norman troops when they were retreating, upbraiding them for their cowardice before taking a spear and leading them back to the battle. She bore Robert eight children. Following Robert’s death in 1085, Sikelgaita was dowager duchess of their domains until 1090.

Defining moment
Shipwreck  25 November 1120
King Henry I set out from Normandy for England. Among the flotilla of vessels was the White Ship, carrying Henry’s only legitimate son, William. Soon after it set sail, the White Ship hit a rock and sank, drowning all but one aboard. With only his daughter, Matilda, left to him, Henry made her his heir and arranged her marriage to Geoffrey Plantagenet, Count of Anjou. But when Henry died in 1135, many of his English barons refused to accept Matilda as their ruler, taking Stephen of Blois, Henry’s nephew, as king. This began 20 years of civil war, known as the Anarchy.

Defining moment
Fall of Normandy 1204
From his father, Henry II, and his brother, Richard the Lionheart, King John inherited possessions that included England, Normandy, half of Ireland, Anjou and Aquitaine – a veritable empire. But possessing neither the political flair of his father nor the ferocious military skill of his brother, but with a surfeit of Plantagenet vices, John proceeded to lose almost all of it to King Philip Augustus of France. By 1204, even Normandy was gone.

May 1169

Invasion of Ireland
The first Norman mercenaries arrived in Ireland to support the deposed king of Leinster. In 1171, Richard de Clare, ‘Strongbow’, arrived, followed six months later by King Henry II. The long English involvement in Ireland had begun.

1174

Beauty in stone
In Sicily, King William II commissioned the building of the great cathedral in Monreale. The church blended Norman, Byzantine and Muslim architectural styles into a dazzling synthesis.

1191

1194

Conquest of Cyprus
Almost by accident, while on his way to the Holy Land as part of the Third Crusade, Richard the Lionheart conquered Cyprus, establishing Anglo-Norman rule on the island that ensured the island remained in Christian hands for centuries afterwards.

Loss of Sicily
The last Norman ruler of Sicily, William II, died childless, leaving the kingdom to his aunt, Constance, wife of the Holy Roman Emperor Henry VI. A rebellion by other claimants was suppressed and in 1194 the Kingdom of Sicily passed into the rulership of the House of Hohenstaufen.

Images; Adobe Stock; Getty; Alamy; Source: Wikipedia Commons / Giaros / Wolfgang Sauber

Images; Adobe Stock;  Source: Wikipedia Commons / Public Domain

What fun could you have?

Even after the Sack of Rome and the advent of the Dark Ages, the Roman Legion wasn’t quite finished

An unusual alliance at the Battle of Chalons

41 years after the first king of the Visigoths, Alaric, had overseen the destruction of Rome, what remained of the Western Roman Empire joined with the Visigoths to help extinguish a new threat, the Huns. Attila the Hun and his hordes of mounted warriors had ravaged central and eastern Europe and driven the Visigoths westwards into Europe. By the summer of 451, the Huns were on the march and had already sacked major towns like Cologne, Strasbourg and Reims. Roman military commander Flavius Aetis called to Theodoric I the Visigoth king for aid and, after initially being rebuffed, was promised support and the unusual alliance met on the Catalaunian Fields in the modern day Champagne-Ardenne region of France.
The battle began with the Hunnic-Ostrogoth coalition pressing forward against Aetis’s men, who managed to repulse the attack. As the Huns reeled backwards, the Visigoths entered the fray and forced the enemy back further. Attila and his army were forced to go back, and although they weren’t totally driven from the battlefield, they would effectively concede defeat. The victory was one of the last for the Western Roman Empire and the Huns would be back, but Attila’s aura of invincibility had been shattered for now.

Were thousands of women burned for witchcraft?

Many believe that the barmy idea of witchcraft was a phenomenon that dominated the Dark Ages and the Late Middle Ages that followed. However, the mass hysteria actually came much later in the Renaissance and Enlightenment eras, with the 1692-93 Salem Witch Trials the most well known. There were burnings, but these would have been concentrated on those the Church believed to be heretics and, on occasion, military enemies. Witch trials in fact dominated Early Modern Europe and America.

Was the world beyond
Europe a wasteland?

Were states at constant  war with each other?

There was a lot of conflict in Europe, but it was very different to what came immediately before and after. Large standing armies weren’t the order of the day and instead tribes and civilisations tended to fight in small-scale skirmishes rather than drawn-out campaigns. The Vikings from the north, the Saracens from the south and the Huns from the east were the masters of this highly effective hit-and-run tactic of warfare. Wars weren’t fought on a large-scale again until the First Crusade in 1095.

As the West was experiencing the Dark Ages, the Islamic world was going through its Golden Age. Islam was spreading out in the Middle East, North Africa and Asia and even Spain, and bringing with it a rich culture of learning. Dominated by the Umayyad (661-750) and Abbasid (750-1258) caliphates, Baghdad became one of the greatest cities on Earth. The Islamic caliphates were the largest economic powers of the era and would be the pinnacle of society, technology and industry, with Europe playing catch-up.

Did people only drink beer?

Study on the period nearly always focuses on war, conflict and invasion, but people still knew how to have fun. Music was a popular past time and the scholar Bede tells of an event at Whitby Abbey where entertainment was provided by the playing of a harp. Literature was also popular and, as well as Bede’s many writings, the epic poem Beowulf was written at some point between the 8th and 11th centuries. Much of the poetry from the era wasn’t noted down but memorised and then recited. Riddles were also popular, as were board games and simple activities like hide-and-seek. In the Byzantine Empire many Roman amenities were maintained, so races and theatres stayed open to entertain the masses.

Well, no. Soap may have been a luxury that was only used sparingly even by the upper classes – who preferred to mask their body odour with strong perfumes – but this did not stop people bathing. There are conflicting accounts on how clean people were, with some sources stating personal hygiene simply didn’t exist while others say the Anglo-Saxons scoffed at the Viking idea of bathing once a week. More recent research has shed light on the notion that the population knew of the importance of washing and that dirt was generally a bad thing. King John is even known for taking a bathtub when he toured England. While most Roman baths across Europe fell into disrepair, replacements were eventually constructed, with Paris having 32 by the 13th century. This made Europe more hygienic than you’d probably think.

Is it true that no one took baths?

Water would be drunk from shared wells or straight from a river. With no real idea of how germs spread, these sources could often be contaminated and would cause illness. This was primarily down to the poor public health in communities where people would bathe in the same water they drank and would simply tip waste into the streets. Because of this, it was sometimes (but not always) safer to drink alcohol. This apart, it is a myth that people in the Dark Ages didn’t drink water at all. In fact, it’s quite the opposite, and we know this from the writings of Byzantine physician Paul of Aegina, who wrote about the benefits of drinking good ol’ H2O. Also, the ‘beer’ wasn’t high-percentage booze. The most common drink was low-alcohol ‘small beer’, which was the middle ground between polluted water and getting sozzled on strong brew.