Candlemas

Yesterday's post mentioned Candlemas among the cross-quarter days. It takes place on 2 February, and has taken on Christian associations, most notably the day when Christians take their candles to Church and have them blessed for use in the coming year. For Christianity, Candlemas is also called the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus Christ, or the Feast of the Holy Encounter. These names arise from the Gospel of Luke Chapter 2 in which Jesus is brought to the Temple and Simeon recognizes that Jesus is special.

The date of 2 February was noted outside of Christianity as well. The Celtic feast of Imbolc was celebrated on 1 or 2 February, marking the start of spring. It is mentioned in early Irish literature as the start of lambing season, and the Christian association of 2 February with St. Brigid is thought to be a Christianization of the pre-Christian Irish goddess Brigid, associated with domestic animals among other things.

Tradition in France, Belgium, and other countries stated that this was the date when Christmas decorations should be put away (a custom I would like to see followed in my neighborhood). In France making crepes is associated with the day; flipping a crepe while holding a gold coin in the other hand is supposed to ensure good luck for the year.

In Germany, Candlemas is associated with payments and rents, as we saw connected with Quarter Days. The Candlemas prediction in Catalonia was that, if there is bad weather on Candlemas, good weather will follow for the coming year.

In Hungary, the tradition has children dress as bears and eat honey. This is because it is the date that bears come out of their den to see if winter is over; they see their shadows because of the sun, and are frightened by it and return to hibernate for a time. This is the origin of the Pennsylvania Dutch tradition of Groundhog Day that took root in North America.

Was St. Brigid a real Christian saint, or a Christianization of an Irish legend? Tomorrow we'll look at the stories and see what evidence there may be.

Cross-Quarter Days

The post about Quarter Days promised an explanation for Cross-Quarter Days, and here it is. Just as the Quarter Days are the solstices and equinoxes, Cross-Quarter Days are the midpoints between those. They are 2 February, 1 May, 1 August, and 1 November.

A modern audience might recognize 1 May and 1 November as May Day and All Saints Day, respectively. The other two dates also had their own names: 1 or 2 February was Candlemas and 1 August was Lammas. But what was the significance of those dates?

Prior to the Christianization of Celtic Britain, their names in chronological order were Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasadh, and Samhain. Imbolc marked the beginning of spring, Beltane marked the beginning of summer, Lughnasadh marked the beginning of the harvest season, and Samhain marked the end of the harvest season and the start of the "dark half" of the year. Christianity matched these events with Christian significance.

Imbolc may be recognized in North America as Groundhog Day, based on a Pennsylvania Dutch superstition that a groundhog will wake up from hibernation, see its shadow, and flee back into its burrow for six more weeks of sleep (an extended winter). Older European tradition ascribed this behavior to a hibernating bear, but as hunting over the centuries made them scarce, the Dutch brought the idea of a smaller animal to the New World.

In Scotland, these cross-quarter days were the "Old Scottish Term Days" and were slightly different. Candlemas and Lammas were the same, but instead of May Day they celebrate(d) Whitsunday on 15 May and Martinmas on 11 November. Whitsunday was supposed to be Pentecost, the 7th Sunday after Easter, which of course was a "floating" holy day and could take place over a several-week period, but it was legislatively established as 15 March for convenience.

Candlemas had its own history, which I'll talk about next time.

Quarter Days

I mentioned yesterday that Lady Day was one of the Quarter Days, and that I would explain them.

As you might guess, Quarter Days are a British and Irish tradition that take place every three months throughout the year—well, almost every three months. A couple days ago we covered equinoxes and solstices, and the quarter days approximately match those four events.

Christmas on 25 December is one, and Lady Day on 25 March is another. The summer solstice, 24 June (of course technically the 24th is a few days after the solstice, for reasons explained here) was called Midsummer Day, but also for the Roman Catholic Church it was the Feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist; "midsummer" seemed too pagan.

The last one would be the autumnal equinox, 24 September, but the Church already had a day at the end of September, the Feast of Michael and All Angels, also called Michaelmas. Instead of celebrating two big days so close together, the fourth Quarter Day was the 29th of September. Just as Lady Day was the start of contracts with tenant farmers, Michaelmas was the end of the harvest season, when accounts would be settled and tithes from the harvest collected. In Ireland, Michaelmas was a day the rents were due.

There were also cross-quarter days, called so because they fell between the Quarter Days. They were four other holidays that existed before Christianity came to the British isles. They should get their own post, and they will...tomorrow.

Lady Day

Yesterday's post on the new year mentioned the solstices and equinoxes and their significance in the calendar year. The winter solstice was used to celebrate (among other festivals) Christmas, and 25 March (right after the vernal equinox) was considered New Year's Day in many cultures, especially those focused on an agrarian lifestyle.

Another religious celebration attached to one of these calendar events was Lady Day, also called the Feast of the Annunciation, the day the the archangel Gabriel appeared to the Virgin Mary and told her that she would be the mother of the son of God. (Leonardo DaVinci's portrayal of this event is shown above.) It was convenient that this day fell nine months prior to 25 December, and that nine months was the period of human gestation. It seemed logical that 25 March was the day of Mary's conception, and therefore the story told in the Gospel would take place on that date.

This became more than just a day to celebrate the Annunciation, however. Because it was treated as the start of a new year, in England it was the day that contracts between landowners and their tenant farmers would begin. If a tenant were to start farming a new plot, this was the day he would "move in." (Even as late as the 18th century in England, the tax year for Land Tax and Window Tax ran from 25 March. A proposal and investigation in 2018 about moving that date to 31 December decided to leave well enough alone.)

When the British Empire in 1752 decided—along with most of Western Europe—to switch from the Julian to Gregorian calendar, there was an adjustment of 11 days. 25 March became 5 April which was referred to as "Old Lady Day," leaving Lady Day to the (now adjusted and astronomically correct) 25 March.

Lady Day was one of the "quarter days" of the calendar, which did not exactly fall on the solstices and equinoxes. I'll talk about them next time.

The New Year

Yesterday's post briefly pointed out the confusion over how to state the year that legislation took place when the date of the start of the year was different. What if a date falls after the start of the year for one country, but before the start of the year in another? When did the year start, and why?

I suppose many readers of this blog are aware of solstices and equinoxes, but let's review: A solstice is the time when the Sun reaches its maximum or minimum declination (the angular distance north or south of the equator), marking the longest or shortest days of the year. The winter solstice takes place about December 20-21, the summer solstice about June 20-21.

An equinox ("equal night") is the day halfway between solstices when the length of day and night is the same. We have a vernal (spring) equinox about March 20-21, and an autumnal equinox about September 20-21.

Note the proximity of the winter solstice to Christmas. With a lack of instruments to measure length of day/night, four days is a good length of time for the human eye and brain to see in December that the days are, in fact, getting longer, and winter will eventually end. This has a lot to do with why so many festivals in the Classical Era were established on or around 25 December. The Romans followed this with calling 1 January the start of the new year, Janus being the god of beginnings.

But 1 January did not suit everyone as the start of the new year. For some cultures, winter was the end of the year, and until the world started growing again, it wasn't "new." Spring was therefore the beginning of a new year. But if that were the case, what day would you pick so that everyone could celebrate at the same time? Well, how about when the day was longer than the night, and more sun and warmth for growing things and for, say, sheep to be able to find grass to eat? 25 March was considered the logical start of the New Year for many.

So to bring us back to yesterday's post: the Statute of Rhuddlan was superseded by some later acts. The Laws in Wales Acts of 1535/6 under Henry VIII was listed that way because it happened to be decided between 1 January and 25 March, and so it was decided as far as England was concerned in 1536, but when proclaimed in Wales for the first time, it was still 1535.

We don't pay much attention to the solstices and equinoxes in the Modern Era except when the weather people point them out, but those dates were turned into other festivals with religious significance in the Middle Ages, and we'll take a Quick Look at them tomorrow.

Statute of Rhuddlan

With Dafydd ap Gruffudd executed for high treason and Wales under his control, it was time for Edward to establish the government he wanted. Prior to this, Wales was governed by the Laws of Hywel Dda, and the country was ruled by separate principalities. Edward introduced England's shire system, and introduced English common law, although he allowed some Welsh legal practices.

Edward had built Rhuddlan Castle in the north of Wales in 1277 after the first war between Edward and Wales. The Statute of Rhuddlan was issued from there, dividing the country into the the counties of Anglesey, Merionethshire, Caernarfonshire, and Flintshire, and revenues from them would now be collected by a new office, the Chamberlain of North Wales, who sent them to the Exchequer at Westminster. The English offices of sheriff and coroner and bailiff were established in each county.

Not everything about local law was changed, so there were differences when you crossed the border from England to Wales. Murder, larceny, and robbery were treated the same. The Laws of Hywel Dda used arbitration to settle disputes, not proclamations from a judge, and that system was maintained.

Inheritance laws were also different from England, where primogeniture was important to keep estates intact. When dealing with land, Wales followed partitive or partible inheritance, with property being divided among heirs. Some changes were made to align with England, however: if there were no son, a daughter could inherit; an illegitimate child could not inherit; widows were entitled to a third of their husband's estate.

The Statute of Rhuddlan was superseded by the Laws in Wales Acts of 1535/6 and 1542/3 under Henry VIII, or, more formally: An Act for Laws and Justice to be ministered in Wales in like Form as it is in this Realm and An Act for Certain Ordinances in the King's Majesty's Dominion and Principality of Wales. Henry wanted the law in Wales to match those of England exactly, and also desired to force English as the official language in a country that almost exclusively spoke Welsh. The 16th century is not really pertinent to this blog, however, so we won't go into any more of that.

Instead, let's ask why I indicated the Acts above as 1535/6 and 1542/3? Wasn't it clear what year they were established? It is, or was, but that depends on when you consider the year to start. Tomorrow let's talk about when the Middle Ages celebrated the "new" year.

The First High Treason

With Llywelyn ap Gruffudd dead in December of 1282, the title Prince of Wales went to his younger brother, Dafydd ap Gruffydd. Dafydd was not to enjoy the title for very long, however. Edward I of England had Dafydd surrounded in the mountainous Snowdonia by January 1283. With resources dwindling, Dafydd managed to sneak downhill to another castle, Castell y Bere, but that was besieged in April. Dafydd escaped that siege and holed up at a guard post further north, but in May had to flee into the mountains.

Dafydd and a few companions had no food or shelter, and had to stay on the run from English soldiers. On 22 June he was captured along with one of his sons, Owain ap Dafydd. (Owain and a brother who was captured later would remain in captivity for the rest of their lives, even being locked into a cage at night so there was no chance of escape.)

Dafydd was taken to the encampment of Edward, who summoned Parliament to Shrewsbury to determine the traitor's fate. He was convicted of High Treason against his king—the first time such a verdict had been brought in England. His punishment needed to be significant to match the crime. On 3 October the sentence was carried out. Let me quote myself from 2013:

He was tied to a horse's tail and dragged through the streets to the place where he was hanged. His body was cut down before death was certain; he was revived, then he was cut open and his entrails pulled out and set afire so that he could see it all happening. His body was then cut into 4 pieces, the parts going to different parts of the kingdom to be put on display. The person given the task of seeing all this done, Geoffrey of Shrewsbury, was paid 20 shillings for the job.

Part of the viciousness of the punishment was because of the sacrilege that Dafydd committed by starting his rebellion on Palm Sunday, desecrating Holy Week.

His daughter and Llywelyn's infant daughter were sent to convents in Sixhills and Sempringham, respectively. There were a few relatives that survived capture, who actually tried rebelling years later, but Wales was now under English rule, and therefore was going to be subject to English rules. Tomorrow we'll see the attempt to replace the Laws of Hywel Dda with the Statute of Rhuddlan.

The Death(s) of Llywelyn ap Gruffudd

It is not that surprising that the details of one particular death during a battle is not noticed, but when that person is the highest ranked figure on his side of the battle, you would think he would be recognized. In the case of Llywelyn ap Gruffudd at the Battle of Orewin Bridge, however, we have options from which to choose.

Llywelyn had come from the north, leaving his brother's forces. Llywelyn was drawn into an ambush near the market town of Builth in Powys on 11 December 1282. The first story is that he left his main force with his chief minister and, while crossing the Orewin Bridge, heard the sounds of battle and turned back to join the army. A lone lancer from the English forces of Edmund Mortimer chased him down and killed him. An English knight a day later recognized the body. His head was cut off and taken to London. This account was made about 50 years later.

Another version was recorded by English monks who got it from Llywelyn's daughter Gwenllian and Dafydd's daughter Gwladys. Their version claims that Llywelyn was at the head of his army and approached the foe, on the assumption that they were going to treat him with respect and even pay homage. A battle began immediately between the Welsh and the combined forces of Edmund and Roger Mortimer, Hugo le Strange, and Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn, son of Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn, who had allied with Edward in 1274. In the battle, Llywelyn and some retainers got separated and were chased into a wood. Llywelyn was a struck down, and asked for a priest. When he identified himself, he was immediately decapitated. The body was searched, revealing some papers—a list of co-conspirators—and the privy seal. 

A letter from Archbishop of Canterbury John Peckham, who had tried to negotiate a truce between the Welsh and Edward, was dated six days later to the Bishop of Bath and Wells, stating:

If the king wishes to have the copy [of the list] found in the breeches of Llywelyn, he can have it from Edmund Mortimer, who has custody of it and also of Llywelyn’s privy seal and certain other things found in the same place.

This gives credence to the list of names.

The two women were not likely to have been anywhere near the battle—Gwenllian had been born the previous June. Did they hear the story from those who were present? Was it designed to make Llywelyn more heroic, at the head of his army?

Edward's forces could now concentrate on fighting Dafydd in the north. Dafydd, now Prince of Wales, engaged in guerrilla warfare for several months, but he destined to lose against superior forces. We'll finish him off tomorrow.

Welsh Rebellion in 1282

The Treaty of Aberconwy in 1277 was supposed to make everyone happy. Dafydd ap Gruffydd (his coat of arms is shown here) was out from under his brother Llywelyn's control—as were leaders of other Welsh kingdoms—and Llywelyn was allowed to retain the title Prince of Wales, recognized by Edward I of England, who now had much of Wales under his control.

Dafydd decided he wasn't happy with his lot, however—even though he had been given part of eastern Gwynedd by Edward. Edward was also antagonizing the Welsh by imposing English law to replace the Laws of Hywel Dda. Dafydd allied himself with some of the other Welsh lords (Deheubarth and North Powys) whose overlord had switched from Llywelyn to Edward to attack English holdings. The first strike was on Palm Sunday in 1282 when they captured Hawarden Castle and laid siege to Rhuddlan Castle. The Lanercost Chronicle described it:

...the Welsh nation, unable to pass their lives in peace, broke over their borders on Palm Sunday, carrying fire and sword among the people engaged in procession, and even laid siege [to Flint and Rhuddlan]; whose Prince Llywelyn, deceived (more's the pity) by the advice of his brother David, fiercely attacked his lord the King;

This success emboldened other Welsh territories to rise up against the English overlords. Llywelyn himself joined in, after sending a letter to Archbishop of Canterbury John Peckham, stating that he was not involved in planning the revolt, but now felt he needed to take steps to support his brother.

Peckham tried to mediate, suggesting Llywelyn be offered some lands in England as a reward for standing down, and Dafydd should agree to go on Crusade as penance. Neither man accepted this suggestion, however, and Edward was not willing to give up anything as a "reward" for rebellion. Five years earlier, Edward had entered Wales with an army intended to punish the uprising and put it to rest. Now he wanted a more decisive conclusion. Nothing but complete conquest of Wales would satisfy him.

This would be the end of Llywelyn and Dafydd. There was one positive for Dafydd: he became Prince of Wales for a little over half a year upon Llywelyn's death. How did Llywelyn die? There are a few stories about that. Tomorrow I'll explain the many deaths of Llywelyn ap Gruffudd.

The Conquest of Wales

Hostilities between Wales and anyone living to the east who wanted to control them was ongoing for centuries, but it wasn't until Edward I of England that Wales became part of a United Kingdom. Edward's father, Henry III, was not a very effective ruler when it came to war, but Edward was prepared, after Henry's death in 1272, to make great strides in asserting the power of England on the island (and on the continent).

Henry wasn't completely ineffective on the Welsh issue. In 1267 the Treaty of Montgomery was signed by Llywelyn ap Gruffudd (1223 - 1282), Prince of Gwynedd—who held the largest unified part of Wales at the time—and Henry to stop recent hostilities and acknowledge Llywelyn as Prince of Wales—the only time a king of England established a Welsh leader's right to that title. All Llywelyn had to do was acknowledge the king of England as his liege. Llywelyn was willing to do that if it meant England left him alone. (The illustration shows Llywelyn on the left, Edward on the right.)

In 1274, the leader of Powys, Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn, and Llywelyn's younger brother, Dafydd ap Gruffydd, decided to throw their lot in with Edward for protection against some of the English lords (Roger Mortimer was one) who were attacking Welsh lands. Edward commanded Llywelyn to come to pay homage—as required by the Treaty of Montgomery. Llywelyn refused, and further angered Edward by arranging marriage (without Edward's blessing) to Simon de Montfort's daughter Eleanor. de Montfort had started a rebellion against Edward's father in 1263, trying to expand the statutes of Magna Carta and take more power from the Crown. This marriage would be advantageous to Llywelyn, and might mean de Montfort's descendant would rule (at least part of) Wales, but Edward saw it as an insult to his family.

Favorable to Edward was the fact that many nobles of Wales did not appreciate Llywelyn's heavy-handed overlordship. As the English started smaller incursions into Welsh territory, long before a major push with the main army, they were joined by the Welsh rulers who saw a path to having more freedom if Llywelyn were thrust from power. In July 1277, Edward's army marched north into Gwynedd with 6000 English troops and 9000 Welsh.

There is no battle named for what happened next, because there was no battle. The invading army never had to fight: Llywelyn realized he was outnumbered, and disliked by his own people, and accepted Edward's negotiation in order to avoid damage to the population and the countryside. This led to the Treaty of Aberconwy in November 1277. The Treaty left Llywelyn with the western part of Gwynedd and the title Prince of Wales, but the eastern part was divided between Llywelyn's brother David and Edward himself. With very little effort, Edward now controlled much of Wales.

This arrangement lasted five years, until David decided he wasn't happy with the little he was given, but that's a story for tomorrow. (Spoiler alert: I wrote about the result of Dafydd's efforts over a decade ago, if you aren't squeamish.)

The Laws of Hywel Dda

Yesterday we learned about Hywel Dda ("Howell the Good"), the 10th-century Welsh ruler, and mentioned that the parliament of Wales is housed in a building called "Hywel's House." The reason for this millenia-old tribute is Hywel's legacy in transforming Welsh law.

Wales was originally a number of small kingdoms with their own laws and practices. Hywel brought most of the kingdoms under one rule. For the sake of convenience and fairness, he created a set of laws that would apply to all the territories over which he had influence. Or did he?

Known in Welsh as Cyfraith Hywel, the Laws of Hywel (the earliest copies we have are Latin versions from the early 13th century) have a prologue that explains how Hywel called on priests and lawyers to meet in Dyfed and create a common set of laws. This anecdote might not be true: since we have no earlier Welsh versions, there is a theory that the story of the gathering of lawyers and priests was created specifically to counter the objections of the then-current Archbishop of Canterbury, John Peckham. Peckham, acting on behalf of King Edward I, was very critical of the Welsh, their ruler Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, and the bishop of St. David's in Wales. The gathering of priests might have been a story concocted to suggested that Wales' legal system had Christian influence at the foundation.

Whatever the origin of these laws, cultural memory attributes them to Hywel. One of the features that stands out is recognition of the rights of women. A small sample from a 1915 English translation:

Chap. i. The laws of the women.

1. The first of them is: if a woman be given in marriage, she is to abide by her agweddi (marriage portion) unto the end of the seventh year; and if there be three nights wanting of the seventh current year, and they separate, let them share into two portions everything belonging to them.

54. If a man willeth to separate from his wife, and after he shall have separated, willet another wife; the first, that has been divorced, is free: for no man is to have two wives.

55. Every woman is to go the way she willeth, freely, for she is not to be revenant; and nothing is due from her, except her amobyr (marriage fee), and only one amobyr; for a woman owes no ebedi (a relief payable to the superior lord), only her amobyr; therefore, as a man is to pay only one ebediw, in like manner, a woman is to pay only one amobyr; for there is no ebediw from her, only her amobyr. [link]

Hywel died in 950, but the Law lived on...until 1284 and the Statute of Rhuddlan, that is, which was established by Edward I of England. To do that, however, Edward would have to conquer Wales, but that's a story we'll start tomorrow.

Hywel Dda

Hywel ap Cadell was known as Hywel Dda ("Howel the Good"), a Welsh king who accomplished so much that his name is attached to the government of Wales even now.

His father was Cadell ap Rhodri (854–909), king of Seisyllwg from 872 until his death in 909, when it passed to Hywel. A few years before Cadell's death, he and Hywel had conquered the kingdom of Dyfed, and Hywel ruled a combined Seisyllwg and Dyfed, calling it Deheubarth.

Controlling a large part of Wales made Hywel a force to be reckoned with, but rather than fight the Anglo-Saxons, he made an alliance with them. Edward the Elder (King of the Anglo-Saxons from 899 to 924) and Hywel joined forces to fight Vikings. Another first for a Welsh leader was Hywel's pilgrimage to Rome in 928.

He continued an alliance with Edward the Elder's son, Æthelstan. Æthelstan wanted to rule the entire island of Britain, but Hywel's voluntary alliance or "submission" to Æthelstan meant he was not subject to attack or even scrutiny, while Æthelstan focused on conquering the territories to the north. Hywel supported Æthelstan's invasion of Scotland in 934, for instance.

When another of Edward the Elder's sons, Edmund, became king, Hywel's cousin Idwal, King of Gwynedd, took a stand for Welsh independence and raised an army against English forces in 942. Idwal was killed fighting against Edmund, and Hywel was able to prevent (with Edmund's approval) the throne of Gwynedd from going to Idwal's sons. Hywel exiled the sons and made himself ruler of Gwynedd, putting him in control of almost all of Wales.

The modern Welsh parliament, the Senedd Cymru, is housed in a building called Tŷ Hywel, which means "Hywel House." The original assembly chamber (now outgrown) is Siambr Hywel ("Hywel's Chamber"). Why is his name honored this way a thousand years after he ruled? I'll explain his impact on Welsh governance tomorrow.

Fighting the Welsh

When the people of Northern Europe sailed westward and landed in the island of Great Britain, there were already people living there. These Brythonic people were slowly driven westward by the increasingly numerous Anglo-Saxons, until they were pushed into the farthest western part of Britain. The Anglo-Saxons called these natives Wīelisċ, from which comes the modern word "Welsh"; the area in which they settled was called Wales.

One of the first recorded battles between the Anglo-Saxons and those who would later settle in Wales was the Battle of Crayford. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle wrote:

A.D. 456.  This year Hengest and Aesc his son fought with the Britons on the spot that is called Crayford, and there slew 4000 men, and the Britons then left the land of Kent, and in great fear fled to London.

About 10 years later, the Britons had a victory against Hengist and his son at Wippidsfleet, but the Anglo-Saxons regained ground in Kent. They ultimately captured the castle of Anderida on the Saxon Shore (south coast) and the leader Aelle established the kingdom of Sussex ("South Saxon"). This was in 491 according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, but historians think it took place in 471. Another Anglo-Saxon, Cerdic, established the kingdom of Wessex ("West Saxons") after driving Britons away from the Bournemouth area.

It is around this time that the legends of Arthur, King of the Britons, gain popularity. He is a leader who opposes (successfully) the Anglo-Saxon invaders. The Historia Brittonum ("History of the Britons") by Nennius (borrowing from Bede, and Gildas' De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae, "On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain") lists several battles, none of which can be historically proven.

Over the centuries, it is no exageration to say that scores of battles—and probably hundreds, counting skirmishes too small to gain the attention of contemporary chroniclers—took place between Britons and the invaders. Until, that is, a kind of peace was managed by a Welsh leader powerful enough to unite the various kingdoms of Wales and form an alliance with the kingdom of Wessex. That was Hywel Dda ("Howel the Good"), and I'll tell you about him tomorrow.

The Next Earl(s) of Chester

Ranulf de Blondeville died in October 1232 without leaving an heir to the title Earl of Chester, so King Henry III needed to choose one. Fortunately, the 5th Earl, Hugh de Kevelioc (Ranulf's father), had more than one child. Unfortunately, the other child he had besides Ranulf was female, Matilda (or Maud) of Chester (1171 - 1233). Fortunately, she had a few sons, the eldest of which was John of Scotland, born 1207. Why "of Scotland'?  Matilda had been married to David of Scotland, the 8th Earl of Huntingdon (1152 - 1219).

When Ranulf died, Matilda inherited (along with three sisters) a part of his estates, but as the eldest she inherited the earldom suo jure, Latin for "in [his/her] own right," meaning the title is hers and not derived from marriage to the earl. Matilda at the time was about 60 years old, and so one month after she inherited the title, she gave it (with King Henry's permission) to her son, and the title of 7th Earl went to John of Scotland. Matilda died 6 January 1232.

John died in 1237, and following the accidental family pattern left no heirs but had sisters. The sisters inherited his estates, and agreed among them that the eldest sister's son should become the 8th Earl. That would have been William de Forz. Henry did not like this solution: he saw estates being divided among women and perhaps didn't want the earldom being run by an increasingly Scottish dynasty. Henry purchased the honor (estate) of Chester from the sisters in 1246.

In 1254 there was a Third Creation. Henry gave the title to his son Edward. Since Edward would later become King Edward I, in 1264 there was a Fourth Creation and the new Earl of Chester was Simon de Montfort, who was the 6th Earl of Leicester but now became the 1st Earl of Chester of the Fourth Creation.

King Edward I followed in his father's footsteps and gave his son, who would later become King Edward II, the title. Edward of Caernarvon was Earl of Chester of the Fifth Creation.

As Edward II, the Sixth Creation was made for his son, Edward Plantagenet, who would later become King Edward III.

The Earldom of Chester (seen in the map above in the top right, in purple) was a powerful entity and valuable as a staging for some of the wars against the Welsh. Tomorrow we'll start looking at conflicts between England and Wales.

The 4th and 6th Earl

Ranulf de Blondeville was the 6th Earl of Chester, but also (sort of) the 4th. The Earldom of Chester was created in 1067 by William the Conqueror and the title given to Gerbod the Fleming, the 1st Earl. He ultimately became a monk after feeling guilt over killing Arnulf III, Count of Flanders. Although Gerbod had children, none of them succeeded as earl.

So in 1071, William created a new Earl, Hugh d'Avranches, who was then called the 1st Earl of Chester. This made him, in the language of such things, the "1st Earl of the Second Creation." Unfortunately for d'Avranches, he and his family were aboard the White Ship, and perished in that disaster, in 1120.

A new earl had to be created, and that was Ranulf le Meschin, both of whose parents were from powerful Norman families and had ties to William the Conqueror's son Henry. He was now the 3rd earl, and the title passed from him to his son and then grandson, and then his great-grandson, Ranulf de Blondeville. Ranulf was therefore the 6th Earl of the Second Creation. Because he was only the fourth in the dynasty begun by Ranulf le Meschin, he was sometimes referred to as the 4th Earl.

Ranulf de Blondeville supported King John and his successor, Henry III, working with William Marshal against the rebellious barons and against the French who invaded during the civil upheaval.

He joined the Fifth Crusade, and was in favor of ending it when the Sultan of Damietta offered them Bethlehem, Nazareth, Jerusalem, central Palestine and Galilee if they would just give up attacking Damietta and get out of Egypt. The papal legate leading the Crusade, Pelagius, refused the offer.

Ranulf returned to an England under the control largely of Hubert de Burgh, who was managing things for the young Henry III. Loyal to the person wearing the crown, Ranulph clashed with de Burgh's policies. He was a witness to the re-issuing of Magna Carta in 1225 and led the English army in 1230-31 into Poitou against Philip II. He died on 26 October 1232, about 60 years old.

Because of his sentimental attachment to different places, his remains were divided. He had been briefly made the castellan of Wallingford Castle (the remains of Wallingford are seen above), and his viscera were buried there. His body went to Chester, to be interred in St. Werburg's. His heart was buried at Dieulacres Abbey, which he founded.

He did not have a son to become the 7th (or 5th) Earl, so what happened next? The king did not have to create a new earl, because there was a way around the situation. I'll explain that tomorrow.