THE STRUGGLE WITH EDMUND IRONSIDE
1016
The Old English kingship was elective: on the death of a ruler, the
great lords and the high officials of the Church, the "witan" or wise,
would meet in formal assembly to select a successor. Usually the nearest
male heir of the house of Alfred would be chosen; but circumstances
might dictate a different selection, and in such cases the "wise men"
seem to have possessed plenary powers. In the spring of 1016, however, a
free choice was impossible; nearly the whole kingdom was pledged to the
invader. In his camp were the Saxon hostages; and the great Dane had
shown on an earlier occasion that he could be cruel when he thought a
pledge was broken.
During the winter months the Danish fleet had apparently been moored at
the old viking rendezvous, the Isle of Wight, or in some neighbouring
harbour. In April, Canute was back from his march to York and was
getting his ships in readiness for further operations, when the death of
Ethelred checked his movements. With remarkable promptness the notables
(perhaps those of Southern England only) came together at some point
unknown, awarded the kingship to Canute, and proscribed all the
descendants of Ethelred. This done, they adjourned to Southampton to
give their pledges of loyalty. It was a body of great respectability
that thus gathered to pay homage, containing, as it did, both laymen and
churchmen, lords, bishops, and abbots. The election must have been held
some time about the close of the month, for by the seventh of May,
Canute was at Greenwich with his fleet.[116]
In London, too, an assembly had met and a king had been chosen. Edmund
was in the city when his father died. The chiefs present, "all the witan
who were in London and the citizens of London," as the Chronicler
carefully puts it, at once proclaimed Edmund king. Thus both the peace
party and the war party had acted. It is clear, however, that neither of
these elections could lay any claim to legality; neither assembly could
pretend to represent the entire kingdom; between the death of Ethelred
in April and the accession of Canute at the following Christmas, England
had no lawful ruler.
Canute at once proceeded to the siege of London. His plan was to isolate
the city completely, to block the Thames both above and below the town,
and to prevent all intercourse with the country to the north. To
accomplish this investment, a canal was dug around London Bridge wide
enough to permit the long but narrow viking ships to pass into the
stream west of the city. On the north side a ditch was dug enclosing the
entire town, "so that no man could come either in or out."[117] Vigorous
efforts were made from time to time to storm the fortifications, "every
morning the lady on the Thames bank sees the sword dyed in blood"[118];
but the townsmen held their own. The siege continued through the month
of May and perhaps till late in June, when it seems to have been
interrupted by disquieting news from the West.
On the approach of the fleet, or at least before the investment had
become complete, Edmund left London. We are told that his departure was
secret, which is probable, as it was surely to his interest to keep
Canute in the dark as to his whereabouts. We do not know who directed
the defence of London during his absence; a year or two later, Thietmar,
the bishop of Merseburg, introduced into his _Chronicle_ a confused
account of these events, in which Queen Emma is made to play an
important part in the resistance of 1016.[119] It may be that the Queen
had returned with Ethelred, but it is doubtful. When Canute heard that
his enemies were mustering in the Southwest, he seems to have detached a
part of his force and sent it westward to look for Edmund. At
Penselwood, near Gillingham in Dorset, the Danes came upon the Saxon
forces. Edmund's success in raising the West had not been great; but,
"trusting in the help of God," he gave battle and won a victory.[120] It
is likely that the affair at Penselwood was little more than a skirmish,
for it seems to have made small difference in the relative positions of
the contending forces. But it gave Edmund what he sorely needed--the
prestige of success. A month later, battle was again joined at
Sherstone, a little farther to the north near Malmesbury in the upper
part of Wiltshire.
The encounter at Sherstone was a genuine battle fiercely fought, one
that lived long in the memories of Englishmen. It occurred after the
feast of Saint John, probably in the early days of July. The earlier
sources do not mention Canute in connection with this fight; with Eric
he was apparently continuing the siege of London. The western campaign
was evidently in Thurkil's hands; the sources also mention three
prominent Englishmen, Eadric, Almar Darling, and Algar, as fighting on
the Danish side.[121] The Encomiast, who speaks of a Danish victory at
Sherstone, gives the entire credit to Thurkil, whom he naively describes
as a fervent believer "continuously sending up silent prayers to God for
victory."[122]
[Illustration: ANGLO-SAXON WARRIORS (Harl. MS. 603.)]
[Illustration: ANGLO-SAXON HORSEMEN (Harl. MS. 603.)]
Sherstone was at best a drawn battle, neither side claiming a victory.
The Anglo-Norman historians, true to their habit of looking for some
traitor on whom to blame the outcome, could not overlook Eadric; he is
said to have picked up the head of a soldier who bore some resemblance
to Edmund and thus to have deceived the Saxons into believing that their
leader was dead.[123] The tale is obviously mythical; if Henry of
Huntingdon is to be trusted, the trick was played again later in the
year at Ashington.
After the encounter at Sherstone, Thurkil seems to have joined Canute
before London; but his whole force did not return with him. Eadric once
more had shifted his allegiance; he had made peace with Edmund and had
joined him against the invader. Whatever his motives may have been,
there can be no dispute as to the importance of his new move. Edmund's
army was strengthened, as was doubtless his prestige in the Midlands.
For the third time he had an army at his command, gathered, it seems,
from the region north of the Thames. With this host he marched to the
relief of London. On the appearance of this force, Canute found himself
in a difficult situation: to maintain a siege and fight a vigorous
foeman at the same time, required forces greater than those at the
Dane's command. Prudence was Canute's greatest virtue, and he promptly
raised the siege and withdrew to his ships. Edmund seems to have come
up with his forces to Brentford, just as the Danes were busy crossing to
the south bank. The enemy fled; but many of the English were drowned
"because of their own heedlessness, as they rushed ahead of the main
force to get at the booty."[124] Evidently the whole Danish force had
not left London, as the fight at Brentford was two days after the city
had been relieved.
With the relief of London, the English seem to have considered their
duty done, and soon Edmund found himself once more without an army.[125]
It may, of course, be that the apparent lack of patriotism was due to
the necessities of the harvest season, which must have arrived by this
time. The tireless Edmund next made a visit to Wessex to raise the
militia there. While he was seeking recruits, the Danes returned to
London, resumed the siege, and attacked the city furiously by land and
sea, but as usual failed to take it.
The supply of provisions was probably running low in the Danish camp,
for we next hear of a pillaging expedition into Mercia. Ordinarily that
region was spared; but Eadric's defection had made it hostile territory
and, furthermore, it was probably the only neighbouring section that had
not been drained to the limit. Whether the entire army took part in the
foray is uncertain; but the probabilities are that it was the raid
mentioned by the Encomiast as undertaken by Eric with Canute's
permission. Part of the host may have remained on the Isle of Sheppey in
the mouth of the Medway, where a camp appears to have been established.
The fleet sailed north to the Orwell in Suffolk, and thence the host
proceeded westward into Mercia, "slaying and burning whatever they came
across, as is their wont."[126] As the crops had just been garnered, the
raiders did not return empty-handed. Laden with plunder they began the
return to the Medway, the footmen in the ships, the horsemen by land,
driving the plundered flocks before them.[127]
With the forces of the enemy thus divided, Edmund's opportunity had
come. With his fourth army, collected from "all parts of England," he
crossed the Thames at Brentford and dashed after the Danes, who,
encumbered with booty, were hurrying eastward through Kent. At Otford,
in the western part of Kent, Edmund came up with the raiders and slew a
number of them; but much fighting there could not have been, as the
Danes were apparently unwilling to make a stand and hurried on to
Sheppey. If Edmund had been free to make use of the advantage that was
his, it seems that he might have destroyed a considerable part of the
Danish host; but at Aylesford he was evidently detained by a quarrel
with Eadric and the raiders escaped.[128]
Canute's position in the autumn of 1016 must have been exceedingly
difficult and serious, even critical. After a year of continuous
warfare--marches, battles, sieges--he seemed as far as ever from
successful conquest. Edmund had, indeed, won no great victories; still,
he had been able to relieve London, to stay the current of Danish
successes, to infuse hope and patriotic fervour into the hearts of the
discouraged English. But too much must not be inferred from the fact
that Canute, too, had been only moderately successful on the
battle-field; he was one of those commanders, who are not attracted by
great battles. In two respects he possessed a decided advantage: he had
a splendid army that did not desert; he had a great fleet to which he
could retire when too hotly pursued. In the autumn of 1016, Edmund had
come with a strong force to the lower Thames; the enemy, however, was
out of reach on the Isle of Sheppey. It was not to be expected that
Canute would long lie idle; but operations in the direction of London
were impossible in the presence of Edmund's army. Canute accordingly
embarked his men, crossed the estuary once more, and proceeded to
devastate East Anglia.
Edmund started in pursuit, and on the 18th (or 19th) of October he came
upon the Danes at Ashington in Essex, as they were on their way back to
their ships. There seem to have been divided counsels among the English
as to the advisability of making an attack, Eadric in particular
advising against it.[129] But Edmund was determined to strike, and about
the middle of the afternoon the battle began. The English had the
advantage of numbers; but there was a traitor in camp: Eadric sulked
and refused to order his forces of men from Hereford into battle. The
fight continued till nightfall, and did not cease entirely even then.
Darkness finally put an end to the carnage, and the Angles fled from the
field.
It is said that Canute was not eager to fight; but the feeling in his
army must have been different. The banner of the invaders was the
ancient Raven Banner, the raven being Woden's own bird. It is said of
this banner that it was made of plain white silk and bore no image of
any sort; but, when battle began, Woden's bird appeared upon its folds,
its behaviour indicating the outcome. In the presence of victory it
showed great activity in bill and wings and feet; when defeat was
imminent, it hung its head and did not move. We are told that it was
reported in Canute's army that the raven had appeared and showed unusual
excitement.[130] Perhaps of even greater importance was military skill
and experienced generalship. The tactics employed seem to have been such
as the Northmen frequently used: at the critical moment, the Danes
pretended to retreat; but when the lines of the pursuing English were
broken, they closed up the ranks and cut the Saxon advance in pieces.
During the night, the Danes encamped on the battle-field; the next day
they buried their fallen comrades and removed all articles of value from
the bodies of their Saxon adversaries, the corpses being left to the
wolf and the raven.
[Illustration: THE RAVEN BANNER (From the Bayeux Tapestry.)]
[Illustration: ANGLO-SAXON WARRIORS. (From a manuscript in the British
Museum, reproduced in _Norges Historie_, i., ii.)]
The English aristocracy suffered heavily at Ashington. The sources
mention six magnates among the slain: Godwin the ealdorman of Lindsey;
an ealdorman Alfric whose locality is unknown; Ulfketel, ealdorman of
East Anglia; Ethelwerd, son of an earlier East Anglian ealdorman; also
the bishop of Dorchester and the abbot of Ramsey.[131] It is a
noteworthy fact that nearly all these are from Eastern England; so far
as we know not one of them came from below the Thames. It may be true
that all England was represented in Edmund's host at Ashington; but we
are tempted to conclude that perhaps the army was chiefly composed of
East Anglians summoned by the doughty Earl Ulfketel.
By far the most prominent of all the slain was this same Earl, the ruler
of Saint Edmund's kingdom. Ulfketel is said to have been Edmund's
brother-in-law. As his name is unmistakably Norse, it is more than
likely that his ancestry was Scandinavian. In his earldom he appears to
have been practically sovereign. So impressed were the Norse scalds with
the power and importance of the Earl that they spoke of East Anglia as
Ulfkelsland.[132] The sagas accuse him of having instigated the
slaughter of the thingmen, especially of having destroyed Heming's
corps at Slesswick. Thurkil is naturally mentioned as his banesman.[133]
Eadric's behaviour at Ashington furnishes an interesting but difficult
problem. To the Saxon and Norman historians it was the basest treachery,
premeditated flight at the critical moment. Still, after the battle he
appears in the councils of the English in apparently good standing, even
as a leader. From the guarded statements of the Encomiast, we should
infer that Eadric had advised against the battle, that his counsel had
been rejected, that he therefore had remained neutral and that he had
withdrawn his forces before the battle was joined.[134]
From Ashington Edmund fled westward to the Severn Valley; Canute
returned to the siege of London. Once more Edmund tried to gather an
army, this time, however, with small success; England was exhausted; her
leaders lay on the field of Ashington. Soon the Danes, too, appeared in
Gloucestershire. Some sort of a council must have been called to
deliberate on the state of the country, and the decision was reached to
seek peace on the basis of a divided kingdom. Eadric seems particularly
to have urged this solution. Edmund reluctantly consented, and
ambassadors were sent to Canute's camp to offer terms of peace.
It seems at first sight rather surprising that Canute should at this
time be willing even to negotiate; apparently he had Edmund in his
power, and England showed no disposition to continue the war. Still,
the situation in his own host was doubtless an argument for peace. After
more than a year of continued warfare, his forces must have decreased
appreciably in numbers. Recruiting was difficult, especially must it
have been so on the eve of winter. Without a strong force he could do
little in a hostile country. The campaign had been strenuous even for
the vikings, and the Danes are represented as thoroughly tired of the
war.[135] Canute therefore accepted the offer of the English, with the
added condition that Danegeld should be levied for the support of his
army in Edmund's kingdom as well as in his own.
On some little island near Deerhurst in Gloucestershire,[136] the two
chiefs met and reached an agreement which put an end to the devastating
war and pillage that had cursed England for more than a generation. It
was agreed that Edmund should have Wessex and Canute Mercia and
Northumbria; or, in a general way, that the Thames should be the
dividing line between the two kingdoms. As to the disposition of East
Anglia and Essex there is some doubt: Florence holds that these
territories with the city of London were assigned to Edmund. So far as
London is concerned, this seems to be erroneous: Canute took immediate
possession of the city and made preparations to spend the winter there,
which seems a strange proceeding if the place was not to be his. The
kingdom of England was thus dissolved. There is no good evidence that
Canute understood his position to be that of a vassal king; he had
without doubt complete sovereignty in his own domains. On the other
hand, the fact that Edmund agreed to levy Danegeld in his own kingdom of
Wessex looks suspiciously like the recognition of Canute as overlord of
the southern kingdom.
The compact of Olney, says Florence of Worcester, was one of "peace,
friendship, and brotherhood." Other writers state that the two kings
agreed to become sworn brothers and that the survivor should inherit the
realm of the other brother.[137] We cannot affirm that such a covenant
was actually made, as the authority is not of the best. There is,
however, nothing improbable in the statement; the custom was not unusual
in the North. Twenty years later, Canute's son, Harthacanute, entered
into a similar relationship with his rival, King Magnus of Norway, who
had been making war on Denmark. In Snorre's language,
it was agreed that the kings should take the oath of brotherhood
and should maintain peace as long as both were on earth; and that
if one of them died sonless, the survivor should inherit his realm
and subjects. Twelve men, the most eminent of each kingdom, took
the oath with the kings that this agreement should be kept as long
as any of them lived.[138]
It is possible that some such qualification in favour of male heirs was
also inserted in the Severn covenant; still, the whole matter would have
been of slight importance had the magnates on Edmund's death been in
position to insist on the ancient principle and practice of election.
Witnesses similar to those mentioned in the later instance there seem to
have been at Deerhurst; for, after the death of Edmund, Canute summoned
those to testify before the assembly, "who had been witnesses between
him and Edmund" when the agreement was made, as to the details of the
treaty.[139]
The reign of Edmund as king of Wessex was destined to be brief. The
covenant of Deerhurst was probably made in the early days of November
(it could scarcely have been earlier, as the battle of Ashington was
fought on October 18) and by the close of the month (November 30) he was
dead. Florence of Worcester tells us that he died in London, which is
improbable, as it seems strange that he should have ventured into the
stronghold of his late enemy. Other writers give Oxford as the place,
which also seems unlikely, if Eadric, who apparently resided at
Oxford,[140] had played the traitor's part at Ashington. It seems clear
that these writers have placed Edmund's death at Oxford because they
believed that Eadric was in some way the author of it.[141]
For so opportunely did the end come, that the suggestion of foul play
was inevitable, and coarse tales were invented to account for the manner
of death. There is, however, not the least hint in any contemporary
source that Canute was in any way guilty of his rival's untimely
decease. The simple-minded Encomiast again sees an illustration of
Providential mercy:
But God, remembering his teaching of olden time, that a kingdom
divided against itself cannot long endure, very soon afterwards led
Edmund's spirit forth from the body, having compassion on the realm
of the English, lest if, perchance, both should continue among the
living, neither should reign securely, and the kingdom be daily
annihilated by renewed contention.[142]
It is difficult to form a just estimate of Edmund Ironside, as our
information is neither extensive nor varied. It is possible that he was
born of a connection that the Church had not blessed; at least such
seems to have been the belief when William of Malmesbury wrote.[143] A
late writer tells us that his mother was the daughter of Earl
Thoretus[144]; an earl by such a name actually did flourish in the
closing decade of the tenth century; he was one of the chiefs to whom
Ethelred entrusted his fleet in 992. From his name we should judge that
he was of Norse ancestry. There can be no doubt as to Edmund's bravery
on the battle-field; perhaps he was also in possession of some talent in
the way of generalship. But on the whole, his military exploits have
been exaggerated: we know them chiefly from an ecclesiastic who was
doubtless honest, but warmly patriotic and strongly partisan; it was
natural for him to magnify skirmishes into battles. Edmund was the
victor in several important engagements, but in no great battle. There
was no heavy fighting at Penselwood; Sherstone was at best a drawn
battle; Brentford and Otford seem to have been partly successful attacks
on the rear of a retreating foe; Ashington was a decisive defeat. We
cannot tell what sort of a king he might have become but the glimpses
that we get of his character are not reassuring. We get sight of him
first about 1006 when he sought to come into possession of an estate in
Somerset: "and the monastic household dared not refuse him."[145] His
rebellious behaviour in the Danelaw, his raid into English Mercia, give
little promise of future statesmanship. Edmund Ironside was an English
viking, passionate, brave, impulsive, but unruly and uncontrollable.
When the year closed there was no question who should be the future
ruler of England. Fate had been kind to Canute; still, the outcome must
be ascribed chiefly to the persistent activity of the invader. But while
the name of the young King is necessarily made prominent in the
narrative, we should not forget that he was surrounded and assisted by a
group of captains who probably had no superiors in Europe at the time.
There was the tall and stately Thurkil with the experience of more than
thirty years as a viking chief; the resourceful Eric with a brilliant
record as a successful general; the impetuous and volcanic Ulf;
doubtless also Ulf's brother, Eglaf the Jomviking. These were the men
who helped most to win the land for the Danish dynasty; they also formed
Canute's chief reliance in the critical years following the conquest.
The gain in Britain was, however, in a measure counterbalanced by the
loss of Norway in the same year, though in this Canute was not directly
interested at the time. After the battle of the Nesses, King Olaf sailed
north to Nidaros (Throndhjem) where he now received unquestioned
allegiance. He rebuilt the city and made it the capital of his kingdom.
The ruined Church of Saint Clemens, the patron saint of all seafaring
men, was raised again and became in a sense the mother church of Norse
Christianity. Without delay he began his great work as legislator,
organiser, and missionary, a work of enduring qualities. But Canute did
not forget that in this way his dynasty was robbed of one of its
earliest possessions outside the Dane-lands. A clash between the great
rivals was inevitable. For the present, however, Olaf's throne was safe;
there was much to do before Canute could seriously think of proceeding
against his virile opponent, and more than a decade passed before the
young King of England could summon his chiefs and magnates into solemn
imperial councils in the new capital of Nidaros.
[Illustration: VIKING RAIDS IN ENGLAND 980-1016]
FOOTNOTES:
[116] Florence of Worcester, _Chronicon_, i., 173.
[117] _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, 1016.
[118] _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_, ii., 108: the Lithsmen's Song.
[119] Book vii., c. 28.
[120] Florence of Worcester, _Chronicon_, i., 174.
[121] _Ibid._, i., 175.
[122] _Encomium Emmæ_, ii., c. 6. See also Thietmar, _Chronicon_, vii.,
c. 28.
[123] The story is first told by Florence of Worcester (_Chronicon_, i.,
175)
[124] If the skirmishers who were seeking booty were in advance of the
rest and by a rally of the Danes were driven into the Thames, the main
force must still have been on the north bank. The "battle" must
therefore have been fought on the north bank while a fragment of
Canute's army was on the retreat, perhaps on the point of fording the
stream. At any rate, we seem hardly justified in calling the engagement
at Brentford a "pitched battle." See Oman, _England before the Norman
Conquest_, 579.
[125] Oman (_ibid._) seems to believe that Edmund retained his forces
but went into Wessex to get reinforcements. But unless Edmund's
victorious army had to a large extent melted away, it is difficult to
account for Canute's prompt return to the siege of London.
[126] _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, 1016. On this raid Eric seems to have met
and defeated Ulfketel, who "gat ugly blows from the thingmen's weapons,"
as we are told by Thorrod in the _Eric's Praise_. _Corpus Poeticum
Boreale_, ii., 105. The raid seems also to be alluded to in the
Lithsmen's Song (_ibid._, 107).
[127] Florence of Worcester, _Chronicon_, i., 176.
[128] The account in the _Chronicle_ of what occurred at Aylesford is
ambiguous and has been variously interpreted: "and the King slew as many
as he could come upon; and Eadric ealdorman turned against [or toward?]
the king at Aylesford. Nor was there ever worse counsel adopted than
that was." Some writers have interpreted this to mean that Eadric joined
Edmund at Aylesford and not after Sherstone, as stated by Florence. But
the Saxon _gewende ongean_ has a hostile rather than a favourable
colour. The probabilities are that Eadric opposed Edmund's plans at
Aylesford and thus rendered further pursuit impossible. Such is Florence
of Worcester's version (_Chronicon_, i., 177). For a different view see
Hodgkin (_Pol. Hist. of Eng._, i., 397) and Oman (_England before the
Norman Conquest_, 580).
[129] _Encomium Emmæ_, ii., c. 12.
[130] The Encomiast admits that the tale is hard to believe, but avers
that it is true (ii., c. 9). The story of the raven is old and occurs
earlier in the English sources.
[131] _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, 1016. Florence of Worcester, _Chronicon_,
i., 178.
[132] Snorre, _Saga of Saint Olaf_, c. 14.
[133] _Jómsvikingasaga_, c. 52.
[134] _Encomium Emmæ_, ii., c. 12.
[135] _Encomium Emmæ_, ii., c. 13.
[136] Probably not the isle of Olney, but some other islet that has
since disappeared. See Oman, _England before the Norman Conquest_, 581.
[137] Henry of Huntingdon, _Historia Anglorum_, 185; _Knytlingasaga_, c.
16. The saga says distinctly that there was to be inheritance only if
either died without children.
[138] _Saga of Magnus the Good_, c. 6.
[139] Florence of Worcester, _Chronicon_, i., 179.
[140] Sigeferth and Morcar were slain in Eadric's house at the Oxford
gemot. (_Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_, 1015.)
[141] See Freeman (_Norman Conquest_, i., Note xx) whose argument seems
conclusive.
[142] _Encomium Emmæ_, ii., c. 14.
[143] _Gesta Regum_, i., 213-214. The author merely tells us that
Edmund's mother was of ignoble birth; but a woman of low degree would
scarcely be made queen of England.
[144] Ethelred of Rievaux. See Freeman, _Norman Conquest_, i., Note ss.
[145] Kemble, _Codex Diplomaticus_, No. 1302.