At the time of writing a season of celebrations is underway for the Platinum Jubilee of Queen Elizabeth II, marking her 70 years as reign as monarch of the UK and Commonwealth. Such a long reign is historically unprecedented and means that the overwhelming majority of people living in countries where she serves as head of state have no living memory of the reign of another monarch. In turn this also means that few have any memory of the reign of a king; a woman as head of state in these realms feels perfectly normal - even 'default' - and we have grown up talking of the history of "kings and queens" as if the words and roles have always carried equal weight. Historically this was not the case. Centuries ago, that which now goes without saying -that a woman could rule, competently and successfully in her own right - was a truly revolutionary idea. It only became accepted as the result of the examples set by a series of remarkable female rulers in Britain and the twists of fate which crowned them and tested them.
Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians. (Credit: Jennifer Peters)
Though certainly not the first female ruler on these islands, a disproportionate debt is owed to one remarkable lady in particular, who lived eleven centuries ago. Emerging from an age and culture in which female leadership was largely unthinkable and all but unprecedented, she took power only reluctantly, and ruled with such brilliance that any doubt in female leadership would have been banished. But in so doing, she established a dangerous precedent, leading men to try, and thankfully, fail, to erase her from history....
In recent years Æthelflæd (circa 870–920 CE) has rightly become one of the most familiar figures of the Anglo-Saxon Age; eldest daughter of Ælfred the Great, a remarkably successful diplomat, military leader and tactician who rebuilt and rearmed the war-ravaged Midlands, did more than any other to enable the political integration of Mercia into a united England under West Saxon rule, and played an instrumental role in the long struggle to drive back the Vikings.
She is increasingly regarded as a feminist icon ‒ the warrior queen who ‘broke the glass ceiling’ ‒ a characterisation she probably would not recognise but might find amusing. There is no evidence or even hint that Æthelflæd deliberately sought to blaze a new trail for ambitious women, or take a hatchet to the established gender norms of Anglo-Saxon society. Her dedications to, and investment in the church demonstrate that she was a deeply pious woman, and likely subscribed to the religious doctrine of the day which more or less reinforced the patriarchal structure of society as the proper, natural order of things, according to God’s will. Nevertheless, circumstances and duty thrust responsibility, including military leadership, upon her; she thrived and outshone her male contemporaries, and so, a trailblazer she became.
'Heroic Elflede! great in martial fame,
A man in valour, woman though in name:
Thee warlike hosts, thee, nature too obey'd,
Conqu'ror o'er both, though born by sex a maid.
Chang'd be thy name, such honour triumphs bring.
A queen by title, but in deeds a king.
Heroes before the Mercian heroine quail'd:
Caesar himself to win such glory fail'd'
- Henry of Huntingdon, 12th century
Æthelflæd stands out from other Anglo-Saxon leaders, in that, of course, she was a woman, in a culture where female political and military leadership was effectively unprecedented. She was much admired by later medieval writers, but primary sources from her own time sought to hide her achievements; her name is mentioned only once in the ‘canonical’ Anglo-Saxon Chronicle A (matter-of-factly noting her death) and for centuries scholars have struggled to reconstruct her life from the impressive fragments that remain, and by re-inserting her back into the obvious, yawning gaps the redactions of her deeds have left in the Chronicle.
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Our main primary source for events of this period, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (ASC) consists of short entries, usually very briefly listing key events in Old English (and some Latin) organised by year. There are, however, multiple manuscripts (the main ones known by the letters A-F, and a number of other fragments) which differ slightly in content, and in how the dates of events are assigned.
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Disagreement between the manuscripts means that there is ambiguity as to what precise year certain events took place in (usually +/-2 years), and, indeed, on which date a year should begin and end. All versions represent a mostly Wessex-based perspective on events, but especially the prime version (version A, the “Winchester” or “Parker” Chronicle / Corpus Christi Ms.173) which is the oldest surviving manuscript and was obviously written by multiple hands across the centuries; a copy (not necessarily the 'original') which was updated with new copied entries effectively in real time.
The biggest disagreement in content, however, is a series of entries during the life of Æthelflæd and King Edward which specifically pertain to events in Mercia, known as the ‘Mercian Register’, which only appear in the copies known as the Abingdon Chronicle I (Anglo-Saxon Chronicle version B; Cotton Tiberius A. vi) and the Worcester Chronicle (Anglo-Saxon Chronicle version D; Cotton Tiberius B. iv), though even here, descriptions of events are oddly constrained, often avoiding mentioning key individuals by name. The reasons for this are discussed later.
The biggest disagreement in content, however, is a series of entries during the life of Æthelflæd and King Edward which specifically pertain to events in Mercia, known as the ‘Mercian Register’, which only appear in the copies known as the Abingdon Chronicle I (Anglo-Saxon Chronicle version B; Cotton Tiberius A. vi) and the Worcester Chronicle (Anglo-Saxon Chronicle version D; Cotton Tiberius B. iv), though even here, descriptions of events are oddly constrained, often avoiding mentioning key individuals by name. The reasons for this are discussed later.
From Princess to Ruler
Born to West Saxon King Ælfred the Great and his Mercian wife Ealhswith, Æthelflæd was born and raised during the most desperate years of the war with the Great Heathen Army, and these experiences were no doubt formative in her development as a military leader. Nevertheless, her initial usefulness to the House of Wessex was in filling the traditional feminine role of any Anglo-Saxon noblewoman ‒ that of ‘peace weaver’ ‒ being made a diplomatic bride for the leader of the Kingdom of Mercia ‒ Ealdorman Æthelred, then ruling under West Saxon overlordship. The marriage of King Ælfred’s beloved daughter to Mercia’s (probably much older) leader in around 885 CE no doubt served as a tactical mark of respect for the ancient but now vassalized kingdom, and that she was, herself, half Mercian, lent the power-couple renewed legitimacy within the territory, all while tightening the House of Wessex’ grip on Mercia.
During the first years of their marriage Æthelred served as an important military ally campaigning alongside Wessex in the fight back against the Danes, while lady Æthelflæd was heavily involved back at home with the business of government, investing monasteries and churches, witnessing charters, and overseeing the fortification of Worcester. The couple had only one daughter, Ælfwyn (ASC-B) after the birth of whom Lady Æthelflæd is understood to have chosen to be celibate. It has been suggested (Herbert, 1997) that this was a politically canny decision made to avoid producing a male heir which might threaten Mercia’s union with Wessex.
During the first years of their marriage Æthelred served as an important military ally campaigning alongside Wessex in the fight back against the Danes, while lady Æthelflæd was heavily involved back at home with the business of government, investing monasteries and churches, witnessing charters, and overseeing the fortification of Worcester. The couple had only one daughter, Ælfwyn (ASC-B) after the birth of whom Lady Æthelflæd is understood to have chosen to be celibate. It has been suggested (Herbert, 1997) that this was a politically canny decision made to avoid producing a male heir which might threaten Mercia’s union with Wessex.
Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians (Photo credit: Jennifer Peters)
Not long after the death of his overlord King Ælfred of Wessex, and his succession by King Edward the Elder (lady Æthelflæd’s younger brother) the Lord of Mercia began to suffer from declining health, and his competent wife took up an increasing role in both state, and, remarkably, military affairs. It is also around this time that the young son of Edward ‒ the impressive future king Æthelstan ‒ was sent to be raised by his aunt Æthelflæd. Entries in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle peculiar to Mercia (known as ‘The Mercian Register’ *) record that the ancient Roman fortress city of Chester, within Mercia, was repaired, and the relics of St Oswald were translocated into Mercia in 907 and 909 respectively- almost certainly organized by Æthelflæd herself, as the building of a fortress at ‘Bremesbyrig’ (unidentified) in the same year is attributed specifically to her and not to her husband (ASC-B), who goes unmentioned until his death in 910 (or 911, or 912). Even in 910 when the Vikings launched a daring incursion into Mercia and were defeated by a joint West Saxon and Mercian army at the Battle of Tettenhall, Æthelred is nowhere to be seen ‒ perhaps on his deathbed ‒ and, oddly and significantly, the Chroniclers choose to omit the commander(s) of the great victory at Tettenhall from the record. Only in one copy of the Chronicle is Ealdorman Æthelred mentioned in the same entry as the battle, reportedly having died in the same year, but there is no attempt to explicitly link his death to the battle or imply he was there; the other copies of the Chronicle list his death in a different year.
Death of Æthelred ealdorman, in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle A (Corpus Christi College, Cambridge)
"(An. 911) Her gefor æðered ealdormon on Mercum; ⁊ Eadweard cyng feng to Lundenbyrg ⁊ to Oxnaforda, ⁊ to ðæm landum eallum þe þærto hierdon.
'This year died Æthered, ealdorman of Mercia; and King Edward took London, and Oxford, and all the lands that thereunto belonged.'
'This year died Æthered, ealdorman of Mercia; and King Edward took London, and Oxford, and all the lands that thereunto belonged.'
Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians. (Credit: Jennifer Peters) The impression given by this unusual, deafening silence on who commanded the joint Mercian/West-Saxon army, is that it was actually lady Æthelflæd who stepped into the military-boots of her ailing husband and, perhaps drawing on her experience from Ælfred’s war, organized Mercia’s defence herself. If so, this was the turning point of her career and life ‒ forced by circumstances to step outside of the traditional role of a noblewoman and command an army in her husband’s stead, successfully, and winning the unshakeable confidence and loyalty of the kingdom.
On the death of her husband, she succeeded him as sole ruler of Mercia, from 911 to 918, as Myrcna hlædige, ‘Lady of the Mercians’ (ASC-B). Were it not for the technical hitch that, by then, kingship of Mercia had become defunct (her husband having been Ealdorman, not king) she would certainly today be regarded as a trailblazing Queen Regnant (a female King) comparable to the much later Mary I or Elizabeth I. ‘Queen’ historically really just meant consort ‒ the Old English ‘cwen’ meaning woman or wife, or later the powerless consort of a ruling King; the idea of putting a woman in charge was so strange to the early English that no word for such a person had not yet evolved, and judging by the clunkiness of the term ‘Queen Regnant’, arguably still has not! This has presented a linguistic problem for female rulers in Britain for at least a millennium. To be a ‘queen’ is to be subordinate to a king, and not to rule in one’s own right. Notably Latin references to Æthelflæd call her ‘Merciorum domina’; some 250 years later Matilda / the Empress Maude (only surviving child of King Henry I but whose status as heir to the throne was disputed due to her sex, leading to ‘The Anarchy’) would likewise refer to herself as ‘Domina Anglorum’ - mistress/lady of the English, in preference to ‘queen’ for the same reason, and possibly specifically channelling the precedent of Æthelflæd.
Despite the strangeness of installing a woman as ruler, there is no evidence, or slightest hint of any discontentment with the succession at the time, probably for a number of reasons. Æthelflæd had at that point already been, de facto, successfully leading Mercia with little help, for years, proving that despite an almost complete lack of memorable precedent, a woman could certainly do the job! She was the daughter of the famous Ælfred the Great whose memory had already begun to grow into legend, and if, as we suspect, the victory at Tettenhall was hers, it proved not only that she was fully capable of the most masculine duties associated with Anglo-Saxon kingship, but more broadly, that a woman could be a successful king, seemingly with God’s approval. The Mercian nobility were also caught in a bind; to support a rival candidate of their own would be to treasonously break with the by-then almighty Wessex and risk retribution. Merely rejecting Æthelflæd, who was at least half Mercian and steeped in Mercian culture and custom, would likely invite intervention by King Edward and perhaps the appointment of a West Saxon overlord, thereby destroying the last fig-leaf of Mercian status as a kingdom. The half-Mercian Æthelflæd’s rulership represented an opportunity for Mercia to preserve at least some of its independence and dignity.
"The Lady who fought the Vikings"
In Æthelflæd's short solo rulership, she fortified a dozen ‘burhs’ across the West Midlands to improve the defensibility of the territory, enabling a more aggressive campaign against the Vikings. She retook and fortified Tamworth, rebuilding this seat-of-power of the now long-gone dynasty of Offa as her own forward base, before pressing on to the spectacular capture of the Viking ‘fortress’ of Derby in 917, and perhaps even more impressively in early 918 (or 920, or 922) negotiated the surrender of the Danish Viking stronghold of Leicester without any blood being spilled, and essentially dooming Danish dominion in the East Midlands.
Lady Æthelflæd's army captures Derby in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle B (British Library)
<917/18> Her Æþelflæd Myrcna hlæfdige, Gode fultmigendum, foran to Hlæfmæssan begeat þa burh mid eallum þam ðe þærto hyrde þe is haten Deoraby, 7 þær wæron eac ofslegene hire þegna feower þe hire besorge wæron binnan ðam gatum.
'This year Æthelflæd, lady of the Mercians, with the help of God, before Laminas, conquered the fortress/town called Derby, with all that thereto belonged; and there were also slain four of her thegns, that were most dear to her, within the gates.'
'This year Æthelflæd, lady of the Mercians, with the help of God, before Laminas, conquered the fortress/town called Derby, with all that thereto belonged; and there were also slain four of her thegns, that were most dear to her, within the gates.'
The fragmentary 'Annals of Ireland' recall that Æthelflæd ‘most famous queen of the Saxons’ also led a joint Northumbrian and Scots force countering the invading Norse-Gael army of Ragnall ua Imair, which seems unlikely. The same source describes her having also recaptured Chester from the Danes, with Irish help, and heavily implies she was herself actively involved in the fighting. ‘The pagans were slaughtered by the Queen like that, so that her fame spread in all directions’. The Æthelflæd of the Irish Annals probably bears only passing resemblance to the real historical figure, but demonstrates how great her reputation was, and how her legend grew in the telling overseas.
Although she was undoubtedly a great general and tactician, particularly excelling at planning military infrastructure and logistics which make the difference between merely winning battles and winning wars, we don’t actually know that she participated in fighting herself, and although it is increasingly fashionable to view her, and represent her as a sword-waving warrior queen, no reliable primary sources support this interpretation, or indeed, the notion that any late Anglo-Saxon woman participated in battle directly. To do so would have required the necessary physical training, and being decked out in appropriate, male-coded garb and gear, which all may have been one taboo-break too far. But we should not be overly romantic in imagining that any male Anglo-Saxon royal “General” typically got stuck in, on the front line, either. It is certainly not unreasonable to imagine Lady Æthelflæd mounted on a horse and flanked by bodyguards, on a nearby hilltop watching battles she had meticulously planned, unfold, wearing a sword and perhaps armour to symbolise her office, or issuing instructions from behind the lines.
Although she was undoubtedly a great general and tactician, particularly excelling at planning military infrastructure and logistics which make the difference between merely winning battles and winning wars, we don’t actually know that she participated in fighting herself, and although it is increasingly fashionable to view her, and represent her as a sword-waving warrior queen, no reliable primary sources support this interpretation, or indeed, the notion that any late Anglo-Saxon woman participated in battle directly. To do so would have required the necessary physical training, and being decked out in appropriate, male-coded garb and gear, which all may have been one taboo-break too far. But we should not be overly romantic in imagining that any male Anglo-Saxon royal “General” typically got stuck in, on the front line, either. It is certainly not unreasonable to imagine Lady Æthelflæd mounted on a horse and flanked by bodyguards, on a nearby hilltop watching battles she had meticulously planned, unfold, wearing a sword and perhaps armour to symbolise her office, or issuing instructions from behind the lines.
The new Æthelflæd statue outside Tamworth Railway Station, erected to commemorate 1,100 years since her death in Tamworth. Her spear points visitors towards the town centre and Castle. She is depicted wearing armour, with a shield slung on her back, and holding a spear and sword; an example of modern representation of her as a fighting queen. Also tellingly, here, she wears a crown.
Commanding armies against the Danes - did Æthelflæd dress as a warrior and participate directly in battle? Not supported by other sources, unusual descriptions of her life in the Annals of Ireland depict her as a hands-on warrior queen. (Photo credit: Jennifer Peters)
The final and most spectacular of Æthelflæd’s territorial achievements took place later in spring to early summer of the same year that Leicester surrendered to her, and it appears she came tantalizingly close to finishing her father’s work and ending Danish rule in the North, with the negotiated surrender of York, and with it, Northumbria, to her personally. The Chronicle records that ‘the Vikings of York promised to accept her rule, some of them engaged themselves to do so by pledge, others ratifying it with oaths’ (ASC-B). The invasion of Ragnall, and the slow but inevitable advance of the main Wessex army under King Edward likely represented existential threats for Viking York, with Danish strength broken following the defeats at Tettenhall and Derby, and seeing the magnanimity with which the people and garrison of Leicester had been treated by Æthelflæd, it likely seemed that surrender to her was their best hope; they had no reason to think that her brother would be as kind.
Tragically Æthelflæd died suddenly in midsummer of that year at her forward headquarters at Tamworth, before this diplomatic victory came to fruition, and her body was transported back to her beloved Gloucester; the ultimate final recapture of Northumbria would be left to her nephew and protégé, the mighty Æthelstan.
Tragically Æthelflæd died suddenly in midsummer of that year at her forward headquarters at Tamworth, before this diplomatic victory came to fruition, and her body was transported back to her beloved Gloucester; the ultimate final recapture of Northumbria would be left to her nephew and protégé, the mighty Æthelstan.
The death - and only mention - of Lady Æthelflæd in the AS Chronicle A (Corpus Christi College, Cambridge)
'...norþerran byrig hierde. him beah to, ⁊ sohtan hine him to hlaforde. ⁊ þa on þæm setle ðe he þær sæt, þa gefor æþelflæd his swystar æt Tameworþige .xii. nihtum ær middum sumera; ⁊ þa gerad he þa burg æt Tameworþige, ⁊ him cierde to eall se þeodscype on Myrcna lande þe Æþelflæde ær underþeoded wæs...'
'...the northern town submitted to him, and sought him for their lord. It was whilst he was tarrying there, that Æthelflæd his sister died at Tamworth, twelve nights before midsummer. Then rode he to the borough of Tamworth; and all the population in Mercia turned to him, who before were subject to Æthelflæd,'
'...the northern town submitted to him, and sought him for their lord. It was whilst he was tarrying there, that Æthelflæd his sister died at Tamworth, twelve nights before midsummer. Then rode he to the borough of Tamworth; and all the population in Mercia turned to him, who before were subject to Æthelflæd,'
It is only in death that the canonical Anglo-Saxon Chronicle - the Winchester / Parker Chronicle (Version A, above) bothers to acknowledge Æthelflæd's existence - where she is described only as Edward's sister, and it quickly brushes over Edward's subsequent takeover of Mercia. AS Chronicle A has curiously little more to say, nor about events in subsequent years, with various entries blank. What was going on at this time? And why were Æthelflæd's spectacular achievements concealed?
The "Mercian" versions of the Chronicle - B and D, have much more to say about the death of Æthelflæd, singling her out for unique praise, and shedding more light on the events that followed.
The "Mercian" versions of the Chronicle - B and D, have much more to say about the death of Æthelflæd, singling her out for unique praise, and shedding more light on the events that followed.
<918/19> Her heo begeat on hire geweald mid Godes fultome on forewerdne gear gesimbsumlice þa burh æt Legraceastre, 7 se mæsta dæl þæs herges þe þærto hyrde wearð underþyded. 7 hæfdon eac Eforwicingas gehaten, 7 sume on wedde geseald, sume mid aþum gefæstnod þæt hie on hire rædenne beon woldan. Ac swiþe hrædlice þæs þe hie þæs geworden hæfde, heo gefor .xii. nihtum ær middan sumera binnan Tamanweorðe þy eahtoþan geare þæs þe heo Myrcna anwald mid riht hlaforddome healdende wæs, 7 hire lic liþ binnan Gleawceastre on þam east portice Sancte Petres ciricean.
(918/19) This year she acquired on her own might and God's assistance at the start of the year the surrender of the fort/town of Leicester, and the most part of the army there was subjugated. And she received word from the York-Vikings, and some pledges were given, making oaths that they to her would be sworn. But shortly after word of this pledge was heard, she died, 12 nights before midsummer at Tamworth, in the eighth year that she had Mercian sole rulership, and right her *lordship* holding was; and her body was taken to Gloucester and the east porch of Saint Peter's church.
(918/19) This year she acquired on her own might and God's assistance at the start of the year the surrender of the fort/town of Leicester, and the most part of the army there was subjugated. And she received word from the York-Vikings, and some pledges were given, making oaths that they to her would be sworn. But shortly after word of this pledge was heard, she died, 12 nights before midsummer at Tamworth, in the eighth year that she had Mercian sole rulership, and right her *lordship* holding was; and her body was taken to Gloucester and the east porch of Saint Peter's church.
Æthelflæd, lady of the Mercians. (Photo credit: Jennifer Peters) It is rare for the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle to take the time to praise an individual on death in this way, especially one who is not a monarch, but this is not merely an outpouring of love and grief from the Mercians. The text stresses the rightfulness of her rule. The obvious, traditional interpretation is that this stressing of "rightfulness" represents sulking about what would next happen both to Mercia and its (implied) "rightful" ruler - Æthelflæd's daughter Ælfwyn. But the emphasis on rightful "hlaford-dome" (lordship) is juxtaposed with the introduction to the section which names Æthelflaed as Myrcna hlædige (Mercian lady). Hlaford and hladige (Lord and Lady) are among the more ancient Anglo-Saxon terms of respect but are strongly gendered and not of equal status. This passage could actually be read as a subtle and subversive comment on the gender-politics which framed Æthelflæd's career; the Mercian scribe is saying that she was a lady, who ruled as if she were a lord, and that that was rightful; by extension he is commenting not just on Æthelflæd, but on the rightfulness of female leadership in general.
Given the remarkable achievements of Lady Æthelflæd, and all she did for Wessex’s project to unite the English, the West Saxon obliteration of her memory is surprising and requires some explanation;
Traditionally responsibility for this erasure has been attributed to her brother, King Edward; it has been suggested that he may have found her achievements and the high esteem in which she was held, especially in Mercia, irritating (Klimek, 2013) and certainly, that the final victory of the Viking War he had himself been fighting (i.e. the retaking of York) had been offered specifically to her, bloodlessly and on a plate, would prick the ego of any insecure king. Nevertheless, she was dead and gone; erasing her memory on these grounds would be quite unnecessary, especially as the hand-over of York ended up not going ahead. It’s alternatively been suggested that Æthelflæd’s memory was feared to be a potential lightning-rod for future Mercian separatism (Stansbury, 1993) though it’s hard to see how, in the short to medium term, redactions in the West Saxon Chronicles could possibly do much to combat her Mercian legend.
Could it be the precedent she set as a female ruler which led to her being damned from memory?
An entry in the (Latin) Chronicle of John of Worcester (12th century) ‒ believed to have been copied and translated from a now lost, unredacted version of the Mercian Anglo-Saxon Chronicle provides a remarkable tribute from the Mercians themselves for their queen, asserting their right to continue to be called a kingdom, and for Æthelflæd’s daughter to succeed her as their ruler.
Given the remarkable achievements of Lady Æthelflæd, and all she did for Wessex’s project to unite the English, the West Saxon obliteration of her memory is surprising and requires some explanation;
Traditionally responsibility for this erasure has been attributed to her brother, King Edward; it has been suggested that he may have found her achievements and the high esteem in which she was held, especially in Mercia, irritating (Klimek, 2013) and certainly, that the final victory of the Viking War he had himself been fighting (i.e. the retaking of York) had been offered specifically to her, bloodlessly and on a plate, would prick the ego of any insecure king. Nevertheless, she was dead and gone; erasing her memory on these grounds would be quite unnecessary, especially as the hand-over of York ended up not going ahead. It’s alternatively been suggested that Æthelflæd’s memory was feared to be a potential lightning-rod for future Mercian separatism (Stansbury, 1993) though it’s hard to see how, in the short to medium term, redactions in the West Saxon Chronicles could possibly do much to combat her Mercian legend.
Could it be the precedent she set as a female ruler which led to her being damned from memory?
An entry in the (Latin) Chronicle of John of Worcester (12th century) ‒ believed to have been copied and translated from a now lost, unredacted version of the Mercian Anglo-Saxon Chronicle provides a remarkable tribute from the Mercians themselves for their queen, asserting their right to continue to be called a kingdom, and for Æthelflæd’s daughter to succeed her as their ruler.
‘Merciorum domina, insignis prudentiae et iustitiae virtutisque eximiae femina, viii anno ex quo loa regnum Merciorum strenuo iustoque rexit moderamine obiit, et filiam suam haredem regni reliquit’ (Chronicle of John of Worcester (12th century)
‘The Lady of the Mercians, woman of distinguished judgment, justice and strength of character, died in the 8th year of her sole rule of the kingdom of the Mercians, with strength of justice and carefulness, and left her daughter as heir to the kingdom.’ (Translation adapted from Michael Wood)
That a woman could rule, and be such a spectacular success, was at that time remarkable, but the succession of a female ruler by her daughter Ælfwyn was even more shocking, and would have established a dangerous precedent for the rest of English history. Could the handing of power from one woman ruler, to another, really be allowed to stand? Never before, or since in England has political power ever been passed from mother to daughter. It was the norm for Anglo-Saxon kings and princely heirs to fear the ambition of their brothers. The number of dynastic rivals for any king might double if sisters could also be in serious contention for the throne. Indeed, King Edward the Elder himself would never have received the throne of Wessex ‒ it instead going to his sister Æthelflæd, under such a policy. Perhaps this is the real reason why Edward had his incredible older sister all but purged from the West Saxon Chronicles, and quickly ‘rode to and occupied the stronghold of Tamworth’ (ASC) and confiscated Mercia from Æthelflæd’s daughter.
Humiliation, and Revenge?
On hearing that his sister Æthelflæd was dead, and that her daughter had been proclaimed the new leader of the Mercians, King Edward abandoned his campaign and rushed to Tamworth and occupied the fortress, having his young niece ‘deprived of all authority’ and having her ‘carried back to Wessex’, after which she was never heard from again*.
(*A holy woman by the name of Ælfwyn is mentioned in a charter from 948 CE ‒ three decades later. Could Æthelflæd’s daughter ‒ deposed as Mercian ruler, have survived and spent the rest of her life in a nunnery in the south?)
(*A holy woman by the name of Ælfwyn is mentioned in a charter from 948 CE ‒ three decades later. Could Æthelflæd’s daughter ‒ deposed as Mercian ruler, have survived and spent the rest of her life in a nunnery in the south?)
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle B (pages above), continued.
<919/20> Her eac wearð Æþeredes dohtor Myrcna hlafordes ælces anwealdes on Myrcum benumen, 7 on Westsexe alæded ðrim wucan ær middum wintra, seo wæs haten Ælfwyn.
'This year every worth of Athelred's daughter's Mercian lordship and every power in Mercia was stripped from her. And to Wessex she was carried, three weeks before midwinter.
She was called Ælfwyn.'
Again, this Mercian scribe surprises us with a curious break from the typical format, and with it, a subtle emotional resonance. Figures in the Anglo-Saxon chronicle are introduced in how they are related to other characters, we hear of their deeds, and then we are told when they die, but not so with Ælfwyn. Her story ends when it's barely begun but the Mercian scribe is keen that we remember her name; the last words seem loaded with melancholy or even bitterness. "She was called Ælfwyn".
The brutal takeover of Mercia by king Edward - his abduction of Lady Ælfwyn and the disrespect shown both to the ancient kingdom and Æthelflæd’s memory may have come back to bite him. Only two years later King Edward died suddenly "among the Mercians" at Farndon in Cheshire. The "official" history - the Winchester Chronicle (AS Chronicle A) deals with this curiously briefly, saying nothing of the circumstances, jumps immediately to the succession by Æthelstan (who was not his preferred heir) and then skips the next four years. Over half of the previous page is also curiously left blank.
The brutal takeover of Mercia by king Edward - his abduction of Lady Ælfwyn and the disrespect shown both to the ancient kingdom and Æthelflæd’s memory may have come back to bite him. Only two years later King Edward died suddenly "among the Mercians" at Farndon in Cheshire. The "official" history - the Winchester Chronicle (AS Chronicle A) deals with this curiously briefly, saying nothing of the circumstances, jumps immediately to the succession by Æthelstan (who was not his preferred heir) and then skips the next four years. Over half of the previous page is also curiously left blank.
The death of King Edward the Elder, AS Chronicle A (Corpus Christi College, Cambridge)
(925) 'Her Eadweard cing forþferde, ⁊ æþelstan his sunu feng to rice.'
This year King Edward died, and Æthelstan his son came to rule. (*)
This year King Edward died, and Æthelstan his son came to rule. (*)
The Winchester Chronicle's empty half-page between entries for 924 and 925, the brevity of the latter entry concerning the death of Edward and subsequent events, and the gap from 927-931 are all somewhat unusual. Prior to this, the scribes of the Winchester Chronicle went to great lengths (including, earlier, some truly tiny writing!) to save space and precious velum.
(Nb. The keen-eyed may notice faint writing in the blank space shown above, as if entries here have been somehow physically erased or scratched out, but this faint lettering is actually the text on the other side of the page bleeding through, with this faint lettering actually running behind the list of years on the left hand side (most obvious around and beneath AN DCCCC XXXI) .
There are half-explanations for these gaps, but they raise more questions. First, the reason the previous page ends only half-way down with the entry for 924 is that this was, originally, the end of this chronicle. Until they were separated and rebound in the 11th century, a copy of the Laws of King Ælfred and King Ine had been bound in, here, immediately following the entry for 924, but why? When the Chronicle starts again with the 925 entry it does so in a totally different hand, by a clearly different scribe, with a thin update of the key couple of events of that decade to bring the reader up to speed, before resuming a more detailed history from 931. It therefore seems that official West-Saxon record-keeping was badly disrupted in the mid 920s, which all points to there being a political crisis. That the Chronicle resumes with a very thin glossing of the decade's events rather than incorporating entries from the more complete Anglo-Saxon Chronicles being maintained in Mercia can only have been a deliberate choice. It's clear that powers in Winchester wished for the events of the 920s, and the precise circumstances of the succession from Edward to Æthelstan to be concealed.
None of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles record precisely why King Edward died, or what he was up to in the last years of his reign, but the 12th century Chronicler William of Malmesbury records that he was in Cheshire putting down a joint Mercian and Welsh revolt. Was he killed by Mercians re-asserting their right to choose their own ruler, and avenging Æthelflæd’s memory?
Our Mercian versions of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles - and, indeed, the last of the so-called "Mercian Register" entries which are absent from the Wessex version give more detail on the events of that year - the death of Edward and the crowning of the next king.
(Nb. The keen-eyed may notice faint writing in the blank space shown above, as if entries here have been somehow physically erased or scratched out, but this faint lettering is actually the text on the other side of the page bleeding through, with this faint lettering actually running behind the list of years on the left hand side (most obvious around and beneath AN DCCCC XXXI) .
There are half-explanations for these gaps, but they raise more questions. First, the reason the previous page ends only half-way down with the entry for 924 is that this was, originally, the end of this chronicle. Until they were separated and rebound in the 11th century, a copy of the Laws of King Ælfred and King Ine had been bound in, here, immediately following the entry for 924, but why? When the Chronicle starts again with the 925 entry it does so in a totally different hand, by a clearly different scribe, with a thin update of the key couple of events of that decade to bring the reader up to speed, before resuming a more detailed history from 931. It therefore seems that official West-Saxon record-keeping was badly disrupted in the mid 920s, which all points to there being a political crisis. That the Chronicle resumes with a very thin glossing of the decade's events rather than incorporating entries from the more complete Anglo-Saxon Chronicles being maintained in Mercia can only have been a deliberate choice. It's clear that powers in Winchester wished for the events of the 920s, and the precise circumstances of the succession from Edward to Æthelstan to be concealed.
None of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles record precisely why King Edward died, or what he was up to in the last years of his reign, but the 12th century Chronicler William of Malmesbury records that he was in Cheshire putting down a joint Mercian and Welsh revolt. Was he killed by Mercians re-asserting their right to choose their own ruler, and avenging Æthelflæd’s memory?
Our Mercian versions of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles - and, indeed, the last of the so-called "Mercian Register" entries which are absent from the Wessex version give more detail on the events of that year - the death of Edward and the crowning of the next king.
(924-5) Her Eadweard cyning gefor on myrcum æt fearndune, 7 Ælfweard his sunu swyþe hraþe þæs gefor ymbe xvi dagas æt oxnaforda, 7 hyra lic lið aet Wintanceastre. 7 Æþestan wæs gecoren to cynge of myrcum 7 æt cingestune gehalgod'
'This year King Edward died among the Mercians at Farndon, and Ælfweard his son died quickly afterwards, around 16 days later at Oxford. And his body was taken to Winchester. And Æthelestan was chosen/proclaimed King of Mercia, and was at Kingston made holy / crowned.'
'This year King Edward died among the Mercians at Farndon, and Ælfweard his son died quickly afterwards, around 16 days later at Oxford. And his body was taken to Winchester. And Æthelestan was chosen/proclaimed King of Mercia, and was at Kingston made holy / crowned.'
These entries show that Edward's preferred son and heir Ælweard also died, very shortly after in the Wessex-Mercian border settlement of Oxford, suspiciously clearing the path for disregarded son Æthelstan - Mercian educated protege of lady Æthelflæd, to become king. Is it possible that Ælweard had been assassinated by Mercian agents, as part of the same plot which killed King Edward? Immediately and daringly without deferring to Wessex, the Mercian nobility proclaimed their man Æthelstan first as king of Mercia, and then as king of all the English. In doing so they reasserted Mercian dignity, and Mercia's status not as a vassal but the powerful core of this new 'united' kingdom. The new King was still of the West Saxon royal house, as Æthelflæd had been, but crucially, he was now king of the English because Mercia, not Wessex, had made him so. If Edward and Ælweard were indeed killed by a Mercian plot, we might reasonably describe the succession from Edward to Æthelstan, and the emergence of England, as a minor Mercian coup. Æthelflæd, Ælfwyn, and the annexation of Mercia itself had been avenged.
The Tragic Glory of Æthelflæd
Returning to Æthelflæd and her memory, the tragic irony is that she was loyal to Wessex to a fault ‒ dutifully raising the West Saxon prince, denying herself a male heir of her own to safeguard the succession of King Edward and his heirs, and stepping up as military ruler of Mercia only out of necessity for the safety of both kingdoms. She was not only instrumental in rebuilding the war-ravaged Midlands, but did more than almost any other figure to end the Danish occupation. There is no reason to think she ever sought to embarrass or threaten her younger brother, King Edward, to deliberately foster Mercian separatism, or pave the way for women rulers. Yet unwittingly, through her achievements and her example, she’d become a unique threat to the dynasty she’d spent her life protecting; the remarkable success of her rulership being positive proof that there was no reason a woman could not be a great king. Any son of Æthelflæd could’ve been a rival to the next king; the ‘daughters’ of Æthelflæd would rival all kings.
References
Stansbury, Don. (1993). The Lady Who Fought the Vikings. Imogen Books.
Herbert, Kathleen. (1997) ‘Peace-Weavers and Shield-Maidens.’ Women in Early English Society
Swanton, Michael J. (1998). The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. Routledge.
Klimek, Kim (2013). Aethelflaed: History and Legend. Quidditas, 34(1), 2.
Giles, J. A. (Ed.). (1912). The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. G. Bell and sons, Limited. [Online] [Url=https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Anglo-Saxon_Chronicle_(Giles)] (Accessed 18/02/2022)
Killings, Douglas B. (1996) Ebook of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (Project Gutenberg) Translation by Rev. James Ingram (London, 1823) with additional readings from the translation of Dr. J.A. Giles (London, 1847). [Online] [Url=https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/657] (Accessed 18/02/2022)
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle B / The Abingdon Chronicle I / Cotton MS Tiberius A VI ff 1r-35v. British Library, Digitised Manuscript [Online] [Url=http://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/FullDisplay.aspx?ref=Cotton_MS_Tiberius_A_VI] (Accessed 18/02/2022)
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle D / The Worcester Chronicle / Cotton MS Tiberius B IV ff 3-86. British Library, Digitised Manuscript [Online] [Url=http://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/FullDisplay.aspx?ref=Cotton_MS_Tiberius_B_IV] (Accessed 18/02/2022)
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle A / The Winchester Chronicle / The Parker Chronicle / Cambridge, Corpus Christi College MS 173. Corpus Christi College, Digitised Manuscript [Online] [Url=https://parker.stanford.edu/parker/catalog/wp146tq7625] (Accessed 18/02/2022)
Herbert, Kathleen. (1997) ‘Peace-Weavers and Shield-Maidens.’ Women in Early English Society
Swanton, Michael J. (1998). The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. Routledge.
Klimek, Kim (2013). Aethelflaed: History and Legend. Quidditas, 34(1), 2.
Giles, J. A. (Ed.). (1912). The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. G. Bell and sons, Limited. [Online] [Url=https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Anglo-Saxon_Chronicle_(Giles)] (Accessed 18/02/2022)
Killings, Douglas B. (1996) Ebook of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (Project Gutenberg) Translation by Rev. James Ingram (London, 1823) with additional readings from the translation of Dr. J.A. Giles (London, 1847). [Online] [Url=https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/657] (Accessed 18/02/2022)
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle B / The Abingdon Chronicle I / Cotton MS Tiberius A VI ff 1r-35v. British Library, Digitised Manuscript [Online] [Url=http://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/FullDisplay.aspx?ref=Cotton_MS_Tiberius_A_VI] (Accessed 18/02/2022)
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle D / The Worcester Chronicle / Cotton MS Tiberius B IV ff 3-86. British Library, Digitised Manuscript [Online] [Url=http://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/FullDisplay.aspx?ref=Cotton_MS_Tiberius_B_IV] (Accessed 18/02/2022)
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle A / The Winchester Chronicle / The Parker Chronicle / Cambridge, Corpus Christi College MS 173. Corpus Christi College, Digitised Manuscript [Online] [Url=https://parker.stanford.edu/parker/catalog/wp146tq7625] (Accessed 18/02/2022)
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