Queen Raedburgh

The next noteworthy queen is also one of the most shadowy. In 802, Egbert – a man not directly related to his predecessors - came to the throne of Wessex. While he never attained direct control over the whole of what is now known as England, he achieved ascendancy over Cornwall, East Anglia, Mercia and Northumbria during his reign, as well as subduing the Welsh. Egbert was the overlord of most of what would become England and he and his wife were the ancestors of all but four future monarchs of England.

For such an important royal ancestress, Egbert’s wife is very obscure. There is no contemporary record of her, although one later medieval document suggests that he was married to a woman called Raedburgh, and that she was a kinswoman of the great Frankish emperor, Charlemagne. This is possible as Egbert was exiled to Francia in around 800, staying at Charlemagne’s court before returning to Wessex to take the throne. Egbert retained contact with the Frankish royal family, and, according to the Annals of St Bertin’s, he corresponded with Charlemagne’s son and successor, Louis the Pious. The most that can be said for Raedburgh is that it is not impossible that she was a kinswoman of Charlemagne who married Egbert during his exile.

Egbert may have had a good reason for keeping Raedburgh in the background. According to the ninth century writer, Asser, the role of the queen was deliberately kept in obscurity during the ninth century. Asser claimed that:

‘The West Saxons did not allow the queen to sit beside the king, nor indeed did they allow her to be called ‘queen’, but rather ‘king’s wife’. The elders of the land maintain that this disputed and indeed infamous custom originated on account of a certain grasping and wicked queen of the same people, who did everything she could against her lord and the whole people, so that not only did she earn hatred for herself, leading to her expulsion from the queen’s throne, but she also brought the same foul stigma on all queens who came after her’.

The queen in question was Eadburh, daughter of Offa of Mercia and the wife of Egbert’s predecessor, King Beohtric. She was politically influential and ultimately murdered her husband, before fleeing the kingdom, leading the people of Wessex to reject the office of queen altogether.

Given the strength of feeling against her predecessor, Raedburgh would never have used the title of queen and, instead, would have been called ‘lady’. She bore more than one son, although only Aethelwulf survived to adulthood. Her only surviving child had been groomed for a career in the church, with his education entrusted by his father to Bishop Helmstan. According to the twelfth century chronicler, William of Malmesbury, he had previously been subdeacon of Winchester, but the deaths of all other legitimate heirs led to him returning to the secular world with the agreement of the pope.  There is no evidence that Raedburgh survived her husband, who died in 839.

Bertha, Queen of Kent

Given the recent re-release of my England’s Queens: The Biography in two parts, I thought I would think about some of England’s and (later) Great Britain’s, most memorable queens. The word ‘English’ is derived from ‘Angle’ and, as such, the Anglo-Saxon queens are the earliest English queens. The first one that I am going to look at, was not English by birth, however.

Bertha, Queen of Kent, is a relatively well-known figure today as the woman who is usually credited with bringing Christianity to England. She was born in 539 and was the daughter of Charibert I, King of Paris and his wife, Ingerberg. Through her father, she was the great-granddaughter of King Clovis of the Franks who, at the instigation of his wife, Clotild, had converted to Christianity. While Bertha was raised as a Christian, her father was rather less committed to piety than his grandmother had been. According to the historian, Gregory of Tours, he dismissed Bertha’s mother to marry one of her servants, before divorcing his second bride to marry her sister. This led to the couples’ excommunication. Undaunted, Bertha’s father had taken a fourth wife by the time of his death in 567 – his daughter’s own marriage would prove rather more lasting.

At some point before her father’s death, Bertha had married King Ethelbert of Kent, crossing the channel to join him in his kingdom. From Ethelbert’s point of view, it was an excellent match, giving him links to the prestigious Merovingian kings of Francia. Bertha’s religion was important to her and her father secured a promise that she be allowed to practice Christianity before she sailed to Kent. Once there, she was given a converted Roman building to use as a chapel and she and her chaplain, Bishop Liuthard, set about trying to convert the king.

Bertha saw the conversion of England as her duty. According to the Anglo-Saxon historian, Bede, in 596, Pope Gregory decided to begin the conversion of England by sending a churchman, Augustine, and some monks to preach in England. They arrived in Ethelbert’s kingdom of Kent, an ideal landing place given the queen’s Christian beliefs. According to Bede:

‘On receiving this message, [that Augustine and the monks had arrived] the king ordered them to remain in the island where they had landed, and gave directions that they were to be provided with all necessaries until he should decide what action to take. For he had already heard of the Christian religion, having a Christian wife of the Frankish royal house named Bertha’.

Ethelbert agreed to meet with the embassy, while Bertha allowed Augustine to use her chapel to perform mass, preach and baptise his converts. It was there that Ethelbert also came to be baptised.

Bertha’s role in the conversion of Kent was widely known. In 602, she received a letter from Pope Gregory, instructing her to spread her faith to the other Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, with the pontiff exhorting her to be as Helena – the mother of Constantine – had been to the Romans. It is not clear whether she acted on this letter, although her daughter, Aethelberg, assisted in the conversion of Northumbria through her own marriage. Bertha’s date of death is not known, although her husband had remarried before his own death in 616. He chose to be buried with her in the Church of St Peter and St Paul that had been built in his kingdom.

Back to 1066

Have you ever wondered just what your ancestors were doing in the medieval or Tudor periods? If you have taken your family tree back to 1600 with parish records, the censuses and BMD indexes, it is entirely possible to go back further. Issue 4 of the Discover Your Ancestors bookazine is available now, which includes my article 'Back to 1066', which sets out the most important records and how to use them. Who knows, perhaps your ancestor sailed for England with the Conqueror in 1066, or fought at Agincourt? Alternatively, were they hauled before their manorial court? With a lot of hard work and a bit of luck, you can take your family tree back deep into the medieval period.

Online Prison Records

Ever wondered whether you had gaolbird ancestors? Finding family on the wrong side of the law can come as a shock, but prison records are also a great way of expanding your family tree.  I wrote an article called 'Looking Online: Prison Records' for issue 154 of Your Family Tree magazine, which is available now.

England's First Ruling Queen

I'm just writing an article on England's ruling queens and it occurred to me that there is one queen who is almost always missed off the lists of female monarchs. In fact, few people have even heard of her.

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle for 672 states, matter of factly, that 'here Cenwalh passed away, and Seaxburh, his queen, ruled one year after him'.

This is almost all we know about England's first ruling queen, Seaxburh of Wessex, who may have died in 674, since this is the year from which the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle dates the start of the next reign in Wessex. Her husband, Cenwalh, had first been married to a sister of the Pagan King Penda of Mercia. According to Bede, he then 'took another woman' who may, perhaps be identified with Seaxburh. This led to Penda driving his former brother-in-law from his kingdom, with Cenwalh taking refuge in East Anglia for three years, during which time he became a Christian. He then returned to his kingdom to rule for another twenty-five years.

In the seventh century, Wessex was just one of several kingdoms in England and far from the most important. From the ninth century onwards, however, the kings of Wessex began a programme of uniting England under their rulership and the current queen is a descendant of the kings of Wessex.

Seaxburh may have had a troubled reign, since Bede claimed that, on her husband's death, 'under-kings took over the government of the realm, which they divided amongst them and ruled for about ten years'. Perhaps her authority was disputed, or she was only able to retain control over part of the kingdom? No details survive and she had no known children.

Although Seaxburh's life is almost entirely obscure, the fact that there was a ruling queen in the early Anglo-Saxon period is fascinating. None of her successors as queens of Wessex would reach so high. You can, however, read more about another fascinating Anglo-Saxon queen - Elfrida - in my book, Elfrida: The First Crowned Queen of England. Although not a ruling queen, there is rather more known about the tenth century Elfrida's life!

Happy Birthday Anne Hyde

To celebrate the publication today of England's Queens: From Catherine of Aragon to Elizabeth II, I thought I would write an article about one of the women featured, whose birthday it is today. Not all the women covered in the book were actually queens. One of those was Anne Hyde, the wife of a king and the mother of two ruling queens, but a woman who never wore the crown herself.

Anne is relatively little known today but she was, in her day, as controversial a figure as her husband, James, Duke of York, who became King James II. She was born on 12 March 1637 and has one of the most unlikely backgrounds of any king's wife. Anne was the eldest child of Sir Edward Hyde, a lawyer in the service of the king. She was close to her father, who later commented that 'he had always had a great affection for her, and she, being his eldest child, he had more acquaintance with her than with any of his children'. Her childhood was disrupted by the English Civil War. Her father remained loyal to the Crown throughout, going into in 1646. He was soon joined by his family on the Continent.

During their time in France, Hyde remained a close advisor to the future Charles II, while his eldest daughter served the prince's sister, Mary of Orange, in the Netherlands. She was no beauty, with the diarist Samuel Pepys, commenting that she was 'a plain woman and, like her mother, my lady Chancellor'. Another contemporary more flatteringly considered that she 'had a majestic air, a pretty good shape, not much beauty, a great deal of wit, and so just a discernment of merit, that, whoever of either sex was possessed of it, were sure to be distinguished by her: an air of grandeur in all her actions made her to be considered as if born to support the rank which placed her so near the throne'.

In February 1656 the Princess of Orange returned to Paris, bringing Anne with her. James, Duke of York, came out of Paris to greet his sister and (as he later commented) 'it was there that the Prince for the first time saw Mistress Hyde'. James was a notorious womaniser and had soon seduced young Mistress Hyde. She was already pregnant when she returned to England with her parents in 1660, following Charles II's restoration to the throne.

In order to bed Anne, James had promised before witnesses that he would marry her and, in London, she pressed him to fulfil his promise. Suddenly finding himself heir to the throne, however, James was not so eager to bind himself to Anne. He tried to steal the evidence of the engagement from his fiance, as well as obtaining testimonies that she had enjoyed other lovers. Unfortunately, for James, his brother relied on the support of Anne's father and, when told of the affair, insisted that 'he must drink as he brewed, and live with her whom he had made his wife'. The couple were married a month before the birth of their son.

Anne's time as Duchess of York was largely taken up with childbearing although, of her eight children, only two daughters - Mary and Anne - survived. Her husband was also spectacularly unfaithful, with it well known about court that Anne was 'very troublesome' to her husband due to jealousy. She took her own revenge, enjoying a flirtation with two young courtiers.

Anne, like her namesake daughter, grew hugely fat. She was unkindly called 'one of the highest feeders in England' by one contemporary. By 'gratifying her good appetite' she 'grew so fat and plum, that it was a blessing to see her'. Her health was also poor after the birth of her youngest son, Edgar, in 1667, and, over the next few years she became increasingly unwell. For consolation, she turned to religion. From at least the end of 1669 it was suspected that she was a Roman Catholic. She always publicly denied that she had converted but, privately, she wrote a paper setting out her justification for taking such a drastic (for seventeenth century England) step.

Anne collapsed suddenly in March 1671, soon after the birth of her youngest child. She was probably suffering from breast cancer. The queen, Catherine of Braganza, helped to ensure that no Protestant ceremonies were carried out as her friend died. James was with his wife as she slowly expired, whispering to him at the end 'duke, duke, death is terrible, death is very terrible', before passing away on 31 March 1671. She was thirty-four years old. If she had lived another fourteen years, she would have been queen.

You can read more about Anne Hyde and other queens of England in the two parts of my England's Queens.

England's Queens: From Catherine of Aragon to Elizabeth II

England's Queens: From Catherine of Aragon to Elizabeth II is released this week. This is the second part of the reissue of England's Queens: The Biography (so don't buy the new book if you already have the full edition!).

Starting with the six wives of Henry VIII, part 2 of England's Queens traces the lives of the women who have either been queen of England or who were married to one of England's kings. With six ruling queens and a number of remarkable consorts, the five hundred years of history covered are full of drama. My personal favourite is Caroline of Brunswick, who was hilarious, as well as Queen Anne, who came across as much more human and likeable in my research than I had been expecting.