Trouble in Northumbria

In 947/948, the folk of Northumbria decided to oust Amlaib Cuarán, the Viking ruler who came from Dublin with his cousin, Olaf Guthfrithson, and took over when Olaf died. They invited Eric (later called "Bloodaxe") from Norway to take his place. This request for another Scandinavian ruler seems to be a response to the Anglo-Saxon family of Æthelstan continually subduing the north to keep England united.

Archbishop of York Wulfstan supported Eric, but the current Anglo-Saxon king, Eadred, came north in 948 and destroyed part of Northumbria as punishment, even burning several buildings at Ripon (a significant place, it was founded by St. Wilfrid and housed the remains of St. Cuthbert at one time). When he departed the north, Eadred advised that he would return with greater devastation if they did not get rid of Eric.

That did not resolve the "northern trouble," however, because shortly after, King Malcolm I of Scotland raided Northumbria and took captives and stole cattle. Moreover, with Eric gone and Eadred back south, Amlaib returned in 949, so one record claims. That only lasted until 952 when, once again, the Northumbrians expelled him, whereupon Eric returned to reign from 952 - 954.

Eric might have stayed longer except for a betrayal. A history written a century later by Roger of Wendover says:

King Eric was treacherously killed by Earl Maccus in a certain lonely place which is called Stainmore, with his son Haeric and his brother Ragnald, betrayed by Earl Oswulf; and then afterwards King Eadred ruled in these districts.

After this, Oswulf administered Northumbria and was loyal to Eadred and the following English kings. Northern control by Vikings was a thing of the past. The identity of Maccus is unknown. It is assumed that Roger of Wendover had access to a text with details of the death that is no longer available to modern scholars.

Tradition tells that Oswulf ruled all of Northumbria for about the next decade, so I think he's worth talking about, although we know very little about him. See you tomorrow.

The War of the Keys

The War of the Keys was called that because of the image of crossed keys (keys to the Kingdom of Heaven) on the papal flag. The war was between Pope Gregory IX and Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II. Frederick vowed to go on Crusade, which Gregory supported wholeheartedly. The vow was on pain of excommunication. Gregory's predecessor, Honorius III, had granted Frederick several delays, but Gregory was not going to be patient anymore, and threatened Frederick with excommunication.

Along with that issue, Frederick laid claim to some lands in central Italy that the popes believed belonged to the Papal States. Also, Gregory felt that Frederick was abusing the church in Sicily.

Part of Frederick's agreement to go on Crusade was that he wanted to be King of Jerusalem. Currently, the King-by-marriage was John of Brienne, who was regent for his 12-year-old daughter, Queen Isabella II of Jerusalem. The marriage, in November 1225, removed John's regency and made technically Frederick King of Jerusalem. Yet still he delayed.

Gregory excommunicated Frederick in October 1227. Isabella died in May 1228. In June 1228, Frederick finally began the Sixth Crusade. While he was traveling, some of his followers invaded the disputed Italian territories. Gregory responded with an army intending to take Sicily from Frederick. For the leader of his army he chose John of Brienne. Gregory levied tithes from several Christian countries to raise money for his army. According to contemporary English chronicler Roger of Wendover, England resisted the tax. King Henry III of England called an assembly of nobles and prelates to hear from the papal legate about the tithe, but the nobles simply refused to pay. Henry did not do anything to interfere with the papal request, but he did not force his nobles to comply.

Meanwhile, Frederick was in the east and signing a treaty with al-Kamil, who was perfectly happy to giving Jerusalem to the Crusaders if they left him alone. When Gregory heard about this, he denounced the treaty and Frederick as being un-Christian.

Now, however, Frederick was free to return and face the pope's forces. We will see how that went tomorrow.

Matthew Paris

Matthew Paris (c.1200 - 1259) was a Benedictine monk at the Abbey of St. Albans, known to us for his numerous illustrated written works. We do not know why his surname was "Paris"; we have no record of him studying or living there, although given the era in which he lived it is not surprising that he wrote in either Latin or Norman French.

He was an Englishman who did get sent to Norway once to reform a Benedictine monastery on the island of Nidarholm. This gave him an opportunity to be an eyewitness to events surrounding King Haakon IV. His status as an eyewitness to history of his time is what makes him so valuable (although we are sure bias crept into some of his work).

His major work was the Chronica Majora, borrowing from Roger of Wendover's Flores Historiarum, but adding his own observations from 1235 on. An abridged version, his Historia Anglorum covers the years 1070 through 1253. There is a manuscript version which also includes the final part of the Chronica Majora covering the years 1254-1259, all in Paris's handwriting except for a last entry making note of Paris's death and having an illustration of him on his deathbed.

All the other illustrations in his writings are by him, and he had decent skill at drawing. Seen here is the most detailed map of four he produced. Another, showing the trip from London to Rome with sketches of some towns along the way, can be seen here. A picture of a beheading is here.

Paris lived while Henry III was King of England, and records many events from his reign. Paris and Roger of Wendover relate their concern about the increasing percentage of (French) foreigners coming to England. Paris and Henry met in 1236 and kept in touch, but Paris did not approve of the direction the reign was going and his account of Henry's actions is often unflattering.

One of Henry's actions that Paris might have approved (I say might)—and the modern world would certainly condemn—is Henry's "Statute of Jewry." I'll tell you about that next time.