Canute’s Trench

Said to be four miles long

In 1016 Canute had returned to England to reclaim the throne his father had won three years before.  He had a formidable rival in Edmund Ironside, son of Aethelred the Unready.  Edmund stoutly defended London, and London Bridge blocked Canute’s passage up the river.  This wooden bridge joined the walled city to the suburbs of Southwark, which were protected, in turn, by raised Roman roads that provided a system of dykes to keep out the tidal waters.

There is very little agreement as to how he did it, but most historians believe that Canute’s men dug a trench, or a canal around Southwark, through the marshes, ending at Vauxhall and bypassing the bridge. He then totally encircled the city of London and laid siege.

In the course of writing about this feat, I keep wondering about how they managed to get so many shovels?  They certainly didn’t go to Home Depot and clean out the inventory.  Did they raid the locals and appropriate all the Saxon’s tools?  Did the put the locals to work?  Or can we assume that the Northmen expected to lay siege and packed shovels onto their ships before they left home?  How much stuff could they carry on those shallow vessels?

In the end, he raised the siege anyway, so what a lot of trouble for nothing!

London Bridge is Falling Down

1014 was a busy time for Londoners. The year before, Swegn Forkbeard, their unwelcome new king had died after only 5 months on the throne, and Aethelred wanted his crown back. But the Vikings were still in possession of the city, and they had other ideas. This time they were the ones defending London, and the attackers were Aethelred the Unready and his ally King Olaf of Norway.
Aethelred and Olaf were clever fellows and they protected their ships with thatched roofs pulled from buildings downstream. The bridge was packed with stout Vikings throwing everything they had onto the Saxon ships, who were busy tying ropes to the bridge piles. They rowed with all their might, taking advantage of the tide, and were able to pull out the supports, tearing the bridge down and everyone on it.  London threw open the gates and welcomed their old king back in, and the Northmen went away, only to return two years later with Canute and start all over again.
Many historians think this is where the nursery rhyme came from!

Right Location, Different Era

Rhuddlan Castle

Rhuddlan Castle, Clwyd, North Wales.  Just rolls off the tongue!  On the coast of north Wales next to the river of the same name, Gruffydd ap Llewelyn had a fortress from which he could launch his raids into England.  He lost it to Harold Godwineson, who descended on his palace during Christmas festivities and nearly caught the Prince at home, but for a timely warning that sent all the inhabititants scurrying for safety to the Irish sea.  Harold burnt the Princely seat to the ground.   200 years later, Edward I built a castle very near the same spot, and this is a corner outpost of the great fortress, giving access to the river.  The emerald green view over the fields of Wales is quite unforgettable (even on a cloudy day).  It wasn’t difficult to imagine Prince Gruffydd standing on his wooden tower and looking at the same sight.

Was Malcolm III Illegitimate?

As we all know, history was written by the last man standing, so to speak.  Such is the case with Malcolm III Canmore.  As the eldest son of Duncan II, Malcolm was the heir who claimed Scotland from the usurper Macbeth.  Where did this rumor come from that he was the illegitimate son of Duncan and the miller of Forteviot’s daughter?  I wonder if it was put about by his younger brother Donald Bain (or Donald Bane), who took the crown for himself after the death of Malcolm, putting aside the claims of his nephews.  From what I can tell, his alleged illegitimacy was not claimed during his lifetime, which could have been a great coup for William the Conqueror.  And it certainly did not stop Malcolm’s sons from stepping up to the throne after Donald Bain’s demise.

The supposed illegitamacy was mentioned in the “Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun” c.1420, who claimed King Duncan fell in love with the Miller’s daughter and gave her a child.  There is a place in Forteviot called Miller’s Acre, which could refer to this event.  I did visit this sleepy little village, myself, but aside from a plaque indicating that the town was once associated with a royal seat, I found nothing that could enlighten me as to Malcolm’s rumored beginnings.

Finding Macbeth’s Dunsinane

Dunsinane Hill
A big hill but where are Macbeth’s Castle ruins?

Many years ago I embarked on that elusive journey to find the locations for my book-in-progress, HEIR TO A PROPHECY. I thought Dunsinane would be easy; after all, I only needed to find Birnam Wood, right? Well, imagine my surprise to find two Dunsinane sites…or was it Dunsinnan? There were two locations on the Geological Survey map, both within shouting distance of Perth. So I dutifully visited both hills, expecting – or rather hoping – to find something resembling castle ruins.

Much to my surprise, I found nothing that I could even vaguely recognize as a stone foundation, wall, or any evidence of historic habitation. Where was Macbeth’s castle? I could only assume that Shakespeare loved the sound of the word Dunsinane and really, did it matter if Macbeth built a castle there or not? Yielding to common sense, I located a likely site, Kinfauns castle located on a cliff overlooking the Tay; the current tower was built in the early 19th century as Lord Grey’s architectural folly, but it is thought to be on the site of a medieval stronghold. Good enough for me!

Imagine my relief, after the fact, to discover mention in the book I was reading, BLOODFEUD by Richard Fletcher: “As commander-in-chief of a combined land and sea force…he (Siward) invaded Scotland and defeated Macbeth in a hard-fought battle. (Its site is not known: Dunsinane, properly Dunsinnan, is a later improvisation).” Whew.

I was much more gratified to find the foundations of Malcolm III’s tower at Dunfermline hill, which still stand proudly with a sign and a recognizable footprint…all of three feet high. At least I was on the right track; only 1000 years later, traces of a well-built castle should be identifiable.

 

Where’s the Source

When researching historical fiction, we can feel comfortable knowing we are treading in the footsteps of another, who may have followed in the footsteps of still another, many generations removed. Such is the case in Macbeth, knowing that the great bard often used Raphael Holinshed’s Chronicles, who in turn relied on Hector Boece for his history, written in the early 16th century. But who did Hector Boece use for his source material?

Since King Macbeth of Scotland lived in the mid-eleventh century, there were five hundred years’ worth of chronicles and histories scattered here and there. Of course, not all chroniclers told the same story, so the author is given a choice which tale to follow. What freedom!

It is said that while writing I Claudius, Robert Graves used Suetonius as his source, often referred to as the Gossip of Rome. Not everyone believed that Livia had such an impressive list of poison victims, but it sure made for a great story! And in the end, I suppose, this is what makes historical fiction so much fun. You get hooked by the story then go find other sources for confirmation.