English Earldoms of 1045

This map was scanned from Edward A. Freeman’s History of the Norman Conquest of England.  I found it in the Appendix of Volume 2 and I thought it was very helpful since a picture is worth a thousand words, as they say… doubly so for maps! 

I  hope you can read this map through all the rivers and towns (click on it to make the map a little wider); if you would like to see a larger version, drop me a line and I’ll send it to you.  These are the earldoms at the height of Edward the Confessor’s reign; the shifting of borders and earldoms was quite fluid during Edward’s reign, and this is a snapshot of the situation right before Swegn’s first exile. 

These earldoms can be traced back to the great division during Canute’s reign, when he partitioned the kingdom into four great earldoms.  Wessex, the most important, was originally retained by the King then given over to Godwine in 1020. Mercia was given to Eadric (which only lasted until 1017), passed to Leofwine then to Leofric. East Anglia was given to Thurkill (banished in 1021) and eventually passed on to Harold Godwineson. The last, Northumbria, was given to Eric and eventually passed on to Siward the Strong. 

Originally, Mercia stretched from east to west across the whole country from Bristol to Barton on the Humber.  As time progressed and the great earldom was dismembered, as Mr. Freeman suggests, it is unclear whether the smaller partitions were totally independent earldoms or whether they were subordinate to the Earl of Mercia.

Apparently both Harold and Beorn were given their earldoms in 1045. Beorn was the son of Ulf and Estrith, sister of Canute who was later married to Robert of Normandy.  Was this the connection that inspired Edward to make him an earl?  I found it interesting to see how Siward’s earldom was broken up by Beorn’s and how Beorn’s earldom was broken up by Siward’s.  Poor Beorn was the same who was murdered by Swegn Godwineson, but that was a few years later. 

You can see Ralph’s earldom next to Swegn’s; this is the same Ralph of Mantes who was nephew of King Edward. When Swegn was exiled in 1046, Ralph’s earldom was expanded to encompass Hereford, where he was resoundly trounced by Gruffydd ap Llewelyn and the errant Aelfgar (son of Earl Leofric) in 1055.  Ralph died two years later.

During the reign of Edward, it’s not much of an exaggeration to say that the “big three” – Godwine, Leofric, and Siward held most of the influence with (or against) the king, depending on the situation. It’s interesting to see how Edward played one off against the other.

 

Waltheof, Last Saxon Earl

From The Book Cassell's History Of England Volume I
From Cassell’s History Of England Volume I

Earl Waltheof’s foray into the history books was unlucky and unhappy. From beginning to end, it seems like he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and never managed to live up to his destiny.

Waltheof was the younger son of Earl Siward, who died when Waltheof was only 10 years old.  His older brother Osbeorn was killed in the battle of Dunsinane, and his father died the following year.  Because of his extreme youth, the earldom was given instead to Tostig Godwineson, and it is possible that Waltheof  received a monastic education in the interim.  It wasn’t until the Northumbrian revolt of 1065 that Waltheof was granted the southern part of the earldom, or Middle Anglia, and he was given the title Earl of Huntingdon.

By all indications, Waltheof was not involved in the Battle of Hastings since he retained his earldom after 1066.  He may have briefly served as a hostage for William the Conqueror; perhaps this is where he met Eadgar Aetheling and chose to champion his cause in the last of four Northumbrian uprisings in 1069.  By then, Eadgar had fled to Malcolm III’s court in Scotland, and together Eadgar, Waltheof and a party of disgruntled thanes met with an invading force of Danes and destroyed the Norman garrison in York.  Waltheof’s exploits in beheading the fleeing Normans with his great axe have been recorded alongside his warlike ancestors.

Alas, the raiding party could not organize a defence against the wrathful King William, who Harried the North in a devastating scorched earth reprisal that scattered his enemies and forced Waltheof to submit to his mercy.  For the moment, Luck was with the earl, for William gave him a second chance and even married him to his own niece Judith (though perhaps Waltheof’s Norman wife was placed to keep an eye on him).  After two years Waltheof was made the first earl of Northumberland (not to be confused with Northumbria which was much larger) and reigned from 1072-1075.

Unfortunately, Waltheof managed to get himself involved with an ill-fated Revolt of the Earls, thought better of it and rushed to confess his role to William.   The Norman King seemed to forgive him in face of his timely confession, and William finished off the other Earls and made short work of the revolt.  However, an untimely appearance of another Danish fleet in the Humber must have given William pause, and he kept Waltheof in close confinement.  Alas for Waltheof, his wife Judith publicly accused him of complicity and after several months he was declared a traitor and sentenced to be beheaded.

The last Saxon earl was executed May 31, 1076 on St. Giles Hill, Winchester.  In an excess of piety and atonement, Waltheof threw himself on his knees and burst into prayer.  It was said that the executioner got tired of waiting for him to finish and struck off his head while in the midst of the last sentence.  Witnesses swear that his severed head finished with “but deliver us from evil. Amen” clearly and distinctly.  It wasn’t long before the unhappy Saxons started to treat him like a Saint.

But all did not end with Waltheof’s execution.  He was survived by a daughter Matilda, who eventually married David, King of Scotland and son of Malcolm III.  From this marriage came the Earls of Huntingdon, as well as her grandsons, Malcolm IV and William I of Scotland.

As for William the Conqueror, it is said that his good fortune ended with the wrongful execution of Earl Waltheof.  From then on, William conquered no more, and the last decade of his life proved to be unhappy and fruitless.

 

 

Harold Godwineson in Normandy 1064

Harold Swears an Oath, Colour-printed wood engraving by James Doyle. Source: Wikimedia

Harold’s ill-fated trip to Normandy has sparked much debate among historians. Why did he go? How much damage did it cause? One thing is certain: Harold and William were far from strangers by the time they met on the battlefield of Hastings.

It is thought by some that Harold was on a fishing trip in the English Channel when a sudden rain squall blew his boat all the way to Ponthieu in 1064. Count Guy, as was his right, took Harold hostage and was apparently quite put out when Duke William showed up shortly thereafter and demanded that he give Harold up.  A proverbial case of From the Frying Pan Into The Fire! Once Harold was the unwilling guest of Duke William, he knew he wasn’t going to get out of there without some painful concessions.

Norman chroniclers favor the story that King Edward sent Earl Harold to Normandy to confirm his choice of William as heir to the English throne.  The obvious argument against this legend is that King Edward had no legal right to appoint his successor.  Although the king’s last wishes were always considered, the final decision was with the Witan, the king’s council. I don’t think this alleged promise was common knowledge in England—if it happened at all. It is far from certain that William visited England in 1052 (while Godwine was in exile). If this didn’t happen in 1052 and William’s plans were not common knowledge, there is a possibility that Harold didn’t know about William’s aspirations to the crown until he visited the ducal court.

There are other explanations about Harold’s intentions. It has been theorized that he was sounding the opposition, so to speak, for his own bid to the throne. But in 1064 King Edward was in good health and Edgar Aetheling, the true heir, was being raised at the royal court. The motivation that makes the most sense to me is the possibility that he went to Normandy in an attempt to secure the release of his brother Wulfnoth and his nephew Hakon, held hostage since around 1052. Alas, even this attempt failed (only Hakon was released) and ironically Wulfnoth’s isolation probably protected him from the same fate as his brothers.

William the Conqueror, British School c.1618-20, Dulwich Picture Gallery, Source: Wikipedia

Harold’s stay at William’s court was protracted and cordial – at least on the surface.  During this time, Duke William led a punitive expedition against Conan of Brittany, taking Harold with him and fighting side-by-side with the famous Saxon Earl.  The Bayeux Tapestry shows a scene where Harold wades into quicksand to save two Norman soldiers from certain death.  After the siege of Dinan, William gave Harold arms and weapons and knighted him for his valor.

Nonetheless, once Harold became William’s man—so to speak—it was time for him to return home.  But one final concession had to happen first: the great oath.  In front of all the Norman barons, Harold was obliged to swear an oath to support William’s claim to the English throne (against his own interests, even then), swear to secure the castle of Dover for William (not likely!), to marry one of William’s daughters. Knowing this was his only way out, Harold duly swore the oath knowing that under duress, many an oath was often considered invalid.  However, William was too smart to be outwitted; just to make it stick, he secretly laid the bones of Normandy’s saints beneath a tablecloth on which stood the bible.  Once the pledge was sworn, the tablecloth was whisked off and Harold was aghast that he had just sworn a false oath on holy relics.

The consequences of Harold’s oathbreaking were grim indeed; William used this event to help win the pope’s approbation for his conquest of England.  When the Duke unfurled his banner at the Battle of Hastings, he placed the Pope’s banner alongside for all to see.  The Normans went so far as to declare that God had turned against Harold’s kingdom and shown his favor to the invaders. I would think that Harold still felt a sting of guilt, regardless. Even his brother Gyrth is said to have offered to lead the army at Hastings since he wasn’t bound by any oath, but Harold scornfully rejected the idea.

One thing is for sure; as a consequence of this ill-fated voyage, both Harold and William knew how their future opponent would conduct himself on the battlefield. Harold would have returned to England a much wiser man and better prepared for the future; too bad he couldn’t change the course of his destiny.

 

Tostig and Stamfordbridge

by Peter Nicolai Arbo, source, Wikipedia

By many accounts, the blame for Harold Godwineson’s failure to stop William’s invasion can be laid on his brother Tostig’s shoulders.  What might have started as sibling rivalry seems to have evolved into jealousy, then resentment turned into recrimination, and finally a desire for revenge seems to have swept aside all other considerations…even the safety of the country.

By most accounts, Tostig was likeable if headstrong; he knew what he wanted but could be overzealous in enforcing his will.  He ruled the difficult Northumbrians for ten years before things got out of hand, and it is probable that the final uprising was due to his new taxation measures, partially to pay for the Welsh campaign of 1062. Tostig had participated in support of his brother Harold, but the campaign was of no real interest to the Northumbrians who probably resented having to fund it.

The end of his rule was violent and final, and Tostig was horrified that his brother Harold was unwilling to support him. Accusations of treachery were tossed about, and Tostig left the country vowing revenge.  In a previous post I followed his movements for the next year, and by the time they met face-to-face on the battlefield, the brothers were irreparably sundered.

However, I’m not so sure that Tostig is the total bad guy he was portrayed as.  According to Snorri Sturluson in Heimskringla, at Stamfordbridge when Harold Godwineson approached the Danish army (in disguise) to offer his brother all of Northumberland and a third of the kingdom to share, Tostig turned him down.  “That is an offer different from the one of last winter, when I was shown contempt and hostility. If it had been made then, many a man would be alive who is dead now, and the king’s power in England would stand on firmer ground…”  He said that he would not have the Vikings claim that he forsook Hardrada to join his enemies, and that “Rather shall we all resolve to die with honor or else win England and victory.”

Window with portrait of Harald in Lerwick Town Hall, Shetland. SOURCE: Wikipedia

This is also the moment when Harold offered to give Hardrada, in turn, “seven feet of English soil or so much more, as he is taller than other men.”  The Norwegian King apparently did not take offense, because as the messengers were riding away, he asked Tostig “Who was that man who spoke so well?”  When Tostig told him it his was brother Harold the King, Hardrada chided him for not revealing the stranger’s identity when he would be such an easy target.

But Tostig  would not have it so: “I saw that he wished to offer me peace and much power and that I would be the cause of his death if I told who he was. But I would rather that he slay me than I him.” Sounds to me more like a man resigned to his fate rather than a vicious betrayer. Hardrada turned to his men and said, “A little man that was, and proudly he stood in his stirrups.”

Harold Hardrada fell first with an arrow in the throat, and Tostig Godwineson raised the King’s banner over him while both sides reformed their lines. Once more, Harold Godwineson offered a reprieve to Tostig and all Vikings who were still alive, but “the Norwegians all shouted together and said they would rather fall one upon the other than accept quarter from the English…” And that is the last mention Snorri gives of Tostig.

It’s very unpopular to defend Tostig Godwineson, but I keep wondering if he was a bit misunderstood. He always seemed to be in his brother’s shadow, and his misguided attempt to come out on top can be appreciated by many younger siblings who are not the favorite child.

 

Battle of Fulford 1066

Source: dariusz-bufnal-imaging-battles.blogspot.com
Source: dariusz-bufnal-imaging-battles.blogspot.com

The battle of Stamfordbridge is well-known as the turning point in King Harold’s fortunes.  But if it wasn’t for a lesser known battle that had taken place just a week before, Harold might not have fared as well: the Battle of Fulford was fought with great loss of life on both sides.  And Harald Hardraada was the winner, though his forces were somewhat depleted.  In a year packed full of great events, the Battle of Fulford seems to have sunk into obscurity, yet its importance cannot be underestimated.

Fulford is, very literally, a ford on the River Ouse just south of York. There may or may not have been a village nearby that found itself to be the host of an unwelcome invasion of Norsemen. They sailed up the Humber to the Ouse and finally anchored their fleet of 300 ships at Ricall a short march away.  Because the invaders started at Scarborough and pillaged their way south, Earl Morcar of Northumbria and his brother Edwin of Mercia had enough notice to assemble their armies and block the way to York, though many said later that they should have waited for King Harold to arrive.

The ford was Morcar’s choosing, with good ground on the defenders’ side and marsh on the other side of the river. The Anglo-Saxon army lined up their shield wall about 1000 men wide and five ranks deep, facing about 6000 Norsemen, including Tostig and his small force.   Around mid-day the invaders launched their attack, crossing the ford and assaulting the shield wall in many places.

Eventually, the English were drawn downhill and across the river, and as the fierce fighting continued for hours, the wily Hardraada managed to send a sizeable contingent secretly around Morcar’s flank.  Suddenly the Northumbrians found themselves beset on three sides, and the shield wall started to break down as men were forced to turn and defend their rear.  The English were forced to retreat – Edwin back to York, and Morcar east toward Heslington.  The Norse had won the day, though loss of life was considered exceptionally high, even for such a violent age.  It was said that the English had lost a third of their men, and the Norwegians at least a quarter.

 

Harald Hardraada and Tostig entered York but did not sack the city; Harald had come as a conqueror, not a marauder. The city came to terms and agreed to exchange 150 hostages with Harald.  The ensuing four days were taken up with caring for the dead and wounded, repairing weapons and armor, arranging hostages and preparing for York’s formal submission to its new ruler.  On the fifth day after Fulford, Harold Godwineson burst upon the scene, taking Hardraada totally by surprise at Stamfordbridge. Had the Norwegian king been less complacent and more prepared for battle, things might have gone differently.

If you’d like more information on this battle, there is an excellent book called The Forgotten Battle of 1066 Fulford  by Charles Jones.

 

Death of Alfred Aetheling

Emma and sons Alfred & Edward from 13th c. Life of King Edward the Confessor by Matthew Paris

When Queen Emma (widow of Aethelred the Unready) married Canute around 1017, they agreed that the sons from their own marriage would take precedence over any previous children. Things didn’t entirely work out that way, but for the duration of Canute’s reign, her first two sons, Edward and Alfred, remained exiles in her native Normandy.

The second son Alfred’s story is a pitiful one, though it has come down to us full of contradictions. The part we are certain of tells us that during the reign of Harold Harefoot, while Emma lived at Winchester, Alfred landed on the Kentish coast with a band of followers. On orders of the King he was seized, his followers either killed or sold into slavery, and Alfred had his eyes put out, soon dying of his wounds. What we don’t know was why he came to England in the first place, and who exactly was responsible for the dastardly deed, looked upon with disgust even by the Anglo-Saxons hardened to such violence.

One of the rumors was that Emma, discouraged by the non-appearance of Harthacnut, sent a letter to Edward and Alfred encouraging them to invade England and claim the crown. Others conjectured they were testing invasion plans on their own volition. Some say King Harold forged a letter in their mother’s name, intending to lure them to their deaths. Still others said that her sons were simply paying her a visit.

It was said that Edward landed with 40 ships at Southampton and Alfred landed at Dover; the Norman account numbered Alfred’s followers at 600, though other accounts said he came with less than a dozen friends. It has even been stated that Edward fought a battle and defeated the English with great slaughter (considering Edward’s later peaceable reign, I tend to doubt this). However, on hearing of Alfred’s fate, Edward made a hasty retreat back to the safety of Normandy.

It seems relatively certain that Alfred’s capture came as a surprise, and Earl Godwine of Wessex has invariably been linked with his arrest. It is alleged that Godwine wined and dined Alfred, lodged his men throughout the town, then in the middle of the night, either Godwine’s men or Harold’s men raided the town, capturing, torturing and killing the Aetheling’s companions. Whether Godwine followed direct orders from King Harold or whether he acted on his own recognizance is total conjecture. Or he simply might have stepped aside and refrained from interfering with the King’s business.

Death of Earl Godwine: Joseph Strutt from Kings and Queens of Britain

Did Godwine turn the Aetheling over to Harold’s soldiers, or was he personally responsible for taking Alfred to the island of Ely and blinding him? Nobody really knows, but Godwine was blamed by many of  his contemporaries. Even though he later cleared himself in court, he was never able to rid himself of the stigma attached to the murder. In any event, the brutal circumstances gave Godwine’s enemies a great deal of ammunition to fling at him. Even at the end of his life, the legend persists that during a feast, Godwine made an oath to Edward that he should choke on a piece of bread if he was responsible for Alfred’s death. Then suddenly, the great Earl was taken with a seizure and collapsed at the table, thus confirming his guilt for all eternity. Do I believe this? Absolutely not!

 

Who was Harthacnut?

Soon after Canute gained the throne of England, he invited Aethelred’s widow Emma of Normandy to be his queen.  Emma agreed, on the condition that only the sons born of their union would be next in line to the throne.  This meant that two of his sons and two of her sons from previous marriages would be put aside.

And so Canute and Emma’s child Harthacnut was born in 1017. It seems ironic to me that the young heir Harthacnut was sent to Denmark when he was eight years old, under the regency of Canute’s brother-in-law Jarl Ulf, to help strengthen Canute’s hold on the country. Why would England’s heir be raised in Denmark? But that’s how it went, and in Denmark he stayed, eventually ruling in  his own right. When Canute died unexpectedly in 1035, his firstborn son Harold Harefoot (through his handfasted wife Aelfgifu of Northampton) was resident in England, and heir Harthacnut had his hands full in Denmark and did not dare leave the country.

The matter went before the Witan. Earl Godwine and Wessex were in favor of Harthacnut, and the North favored Harold Harefoot, their native son.  The Witan ruled, at least short-term, to divide the country and appoint Harthacnut King in the south, and Harold King north of the Thames.  Apparently Emma acted as regent for Harthacut, and sent her son increasingly insistent messages to come and claim his kingdom.

Unfortunately, Harthacnut could not get away, and by 1037 Harold Harefoot claimed the whole kingdom, causing Emma to flee to Bruges in Flanders; she blamed Earl Godwine for failing to uphold her son’s claim.  There she awaited the arrival of Harthacnut who sailed to join her in 1039 with 10 ships, preparing to invade England. As it turned out, the invasion was not necessary because they heard word that Harold was ailing. Indeed, the king died a few months later, and Harthacnut sailed to England with 62 warships to claim his kingdom.

Actually, the transition was peaceful and Harthacnut managed to raise a Danegeld of 21,000 pounds to pay his mercenaries off, just like Canute had done in 1017.  His first official act on taking the throne was to order the body of his brother, Harold Harefoot, disinterred and thrown into the Thames. That certainly set the stage for his short reign!

Harthacnut ruled by intimidation, harrying the population when they objected to his harsh taxation to pay for a large fleet he felt necessary to keep the populace under control.

Harthacnut had health problems of his own; in 1041 he invited his half-brother Edward (the Confessor) to live in England, and may have made Edward his heir.  And not too soon!  In June of 1042, during a wedding feast as he was toasting the bride, Harthacnut went into convulsions and died shortly thereafter, unmourned by all but his mother.

Hence ended the brief reign of the Danes. If Svegn Forkbeard, Canute and his sons weren’t so short-lived, things might have turned out differently for Anglo-Saxon England.

 

Who was Harold Harefoot?

After Canute’s untimely death in 1035, Queen Emma, backed by the powerful Earl Godwine of Wessex, strongly supported her son Harthacnut’s claim to the English throne. Unfortunately, Harthacnut’s position in Denmark at that moment was very insecure, and much though he would have loved to claim the crown of England, he just couldn’t get away.

Enter his elder half-brother Harold, son of Aelfgifu of Northampton, nicknamed Harefoot. First of all, Harold was living in the country; it is thought that Earl Godwine’s rival Earl Leofric of Mercia had given him shelter for many years. Secondly, the Northerners saw him as one of their own, and favored him over Harthacnut, who had been in Denmark since he was six. Since Anglo-Saxon England used the Witan to elect the next sovereign, the previous king’s candidate did not necessarily follow.

Earl Godwine campaigned hard for Harthacnut, but in the end only won the support of his own Wessex. The Witan decided once again to split the kingship into two and declared that Harold Harefoot would be king of all England except Wessex, and that Godwine and Emma would act as regents over Wessex for Harthacnut.

This uncomfortable situation did not last very long, and within two years Harold was declared king of all England.  He called on Queen Emma, installed at Winchester, and despoiled her of all Canute’s treasures; soon she fled to Flanders, where she awaited the return of Harthacnut.  Earl Godwine accepted the inevitable and swore fealty to King Harold I, but was never really in favor; in 1036 Godwine became the scapegoat for Alfred Aetheling’s capture and murder during the exile’s ill-fated invasion of England (more on that later).

We know of little else about Harold Harefoot’s reign. In 1040 he died of an undisclosed illness at Oxford and was buried at Winchester. This saved England the indignity of yet another invasion which was in the process of being arranged by Harthacnut.

Heirs to the Throne after Canute

Source: Wikipedia

King Canute died suddenly in 1035 at around 40 years of age. His reign had been surprisingly peaceful and successful, and at least he could be comforted by the knowledge that he left behind two grown sons to succeed him.

Of course, things were a little messy. His eldest son Svein and second son Harold (nicknamed Harefoot) were borne by Canute’s mistress, or more probably pagan wife Aelfgifu of Northampton. Canute married Aelfgifu in 1013 when his father conquered England, probably to ensure the loyalty of the Northerners in the Danelaw. First son Svein was destined to be king of Norway and was never mentioned in relationship to the English crown. Harold on the other hand, born in 1015 or so, looked to be a likely candidate for King of England…that is, until Emma of Normandy came into the picture.

In the transitional period after Swegn Forkbeard died and King Aelthelred was recalled, Aelfgifu and child were transported to Denmark with the dead king’s body. It was there that she gave birth to Harold Harefoot, and she may have stayed there for safekeeping. For soon after Canute gained the throne, he invited Aethelred’s widow Emma of Normandy to be his queen. And Emma agreed, on the condition that only the sons born of their union would be next in line to the throne. This means that Canute’s two sons as well as her own sons Alfred and Edward would be put aside. Also, Canute put aside his first wife, which apparently didn’t cause any problem with anybody (except, I assume, the woman in question). Emma gave birth to their son Harthacnut in 1017.

I’ll go into more detail in a future post, but to sum it up, on Canute’s death there were many heirs:
1. Harthacnut, son of Canute and Emma
2. Harold Harefoot, son of Canute and Aelfgifu

and let’s not forget the old House of Wessex:
3. Alfred, son of Aethelred and Emma
4. Edward, son of Aethelred and Emma
5. Edward the Exile, son of Edmund Ironside and Ealdgyth (not recalled until 1056)

Things did not go as planned and it turned out that Harold Harefoot became the next king, continuing the Danish line. It is ironic that none of Canute’s sons had children of their own, and all of them died young. For better or worse, as they say…

 

When England lived under Danish rule

Combat between Canute the Dane and Edmund Ironside, Matthew Paris, Chronica Maiora, Cambridge, Corpus Chrisit, 26, f. 160  Source: Wikipedia

The year 2016 marked the 1000th anniversary of Canute’s coronation as the King of England. I think it’s interesting that even though the Danes ruled all of England for more than a generation, very few moderns seem to give it any thought at all. Between Canute and his sons, the Danes were kings from 1016 through 1042, yet we still think of England as Anglo-Saxon during that era.

Of course, the Vikings were no strangers to England. During the reign of Alfred the Great, the Danes overran the country and would have conquered but for the dogged resistance of the King of Wessex. In the end, Alfred the Great divided the country in half, and the Northmen settled and ruled the Danelaw  for the next 200 years. By the time Canute’s father, Swegn Forkbeard took the crown in 1013, England’s Aethelred the Unready had made such a mess of things that the country was beginning to think that Danish rule might be preferable after all.  Not that they had much choice.

Swegn Forkbeard died suddenly in 1013, having ruled for only a few months. Aethelred’s son Edmund Ironside had a brief tenure as king, constantly harassed by the Danes under Canute, who was the second son of Swegn (his older brother Harald ruled Denmark until 1018). Ultimately, Edmund Ironside and Canute agreed to divide the country so that Edmund would rule Wessex and Canute the rest of England; if one died, the crown would devolve to the survivor.  Alas, the end result was all too predictable.

Canute and Emma from Liber Vitae, 1031, Stowe Ms 944, folio 6, British Library

It was conjectured that Edmund Ironside may have been murdered by the villanous Eadric Streona who seemed to change sides like most people change their clothes.  But whether by foul means or natural causes, Edmund did not survive his first winter as King.  Canute took over in 1016 and at first things didn’t look good for the Anglo-Saxons. Some key english Thegns were assassinated (including Eadric Streona) and Viking Jarls installed in their places. Canute proceeded to raise the largest Danegeld tax yet (£82,500) to pay off the Viking ships, but luckily he sent most of the army home afterwards. From then on, England was not considered fair game (except for the occasional raid) until the unhappy events of 1066.

Historians often voice their surprise that Canute decided to settle down and adopt the ways of his conquered people, in direct contrast to William the Norman. I think it could be fairly said that the Danes were absorbed by the Anglo-Saxons through intermarriage and common economic concerns. Although Canute had difficulty juggling his Empire of Denmark, England, Norway and part of Sweden, he made England his home.  He presided over 20 years of peace and prosperity, and by the end of his reign, Canute was known as a good and just king.  Had he not died young – only about 40 years old – England might have stayed Danish considerably longer.