What inspired you to undertake a biography of Edward I?
I have
studied the Middle Ages since I was an undergraduate, and the thirteenth
century – i.e. Edward’s century – was the focus for my postgraduate studies.
During these years I was particularly inspired by the teaching and writing of
Rees Davies, a historian who had pioneered the notion that the period could
only be understood by examining the British Isles as a whole, rather than
simply the national histories of England, Wales, Ireland and Scotland. Because
of his aggressive policy towards the Welsh and Scots, Edward I provided a great
way of examining the momentous changes that occurred in Britain during the
Middle Ages. It’s no exaggeration to say that his is an epic story, but in
recent years no one had told it as such.
What were your most
valuable primary sources? Did you uncover any new evidence during your
research?
Well, in
this period it’s either chronicles or government records. But both are far more
voluminous than most non-medievalists can imagine. My most valuable resource
has been the National Archives in Kew, which is a short cycle from where I live
in London. The Archives are home to thousands of original parchment rolls
generated by Edward’s government (fortunately, the most important ones are also
in print). Because of the quantities involved, it’s very rare (though not
impossible – see below) to make new discoveries based on a single new find.
Most of my innovations have arisen from the simple expedient of putting this
great mass of evidence in the correct chronological order. I have, for example,
proposed a new date for the giant Round Table, made by Edward, that now hangs
in Winchester Great Hall.
Is it possible to describe Edward as the
‘greatest’ of English medieval kings?
It is, but
then ‘greatness’ is a pretty subjective measure, isn’t it? When the BBC, for
example, asked the British people to put its greatest sons and daughters in
rank order in 2002, the actor Michael Crawford did better than Queen Victoria,
and the Enoch Powell – generally regarded as an odious racist – achieved a very
respectable 55th place. Edward’s contemporaries certainly wrote about him as
the greatest king that had ever been, outshining all of his predecessors. But
their praise was predicated on certain royal actions that we would now regard
with horror, such as the expulsion of the Jews in 1290. That said, there are
certain empirical measures that are hard to contradict: the biggest armies
raised in England during the Middle Ages; the largest taxes, the largest
parliaments, and the most legislation. Slice him however you like, Edward was
in most respects superlative.
What was his most remarkable achievement?
Bearing in mind the above comments – i.e. I’m not saying it was a good thing – the conquest of Wales. The sheer size of the resources that Edward was able to mobilize, and the single-minded determination with which he set about the task – both were remarkable. And, of course, the castles that he built to cement his victory.
When did Edward first become known as ‘Longshanks’? Was it a contemporary sobriquet?
The first
references come at the end of his reign, in chronicles and songs. I’ve seen
two. So yes it was contemporary, but it’s impossible to say how widely it was
used. Edward was massively tall – his corpse, exhumed in 1774, measured 6 foot
2 inches, and that was presumably after some shrinkage – so it clearly struck
people as his defining characteristic. In later centuries he was sometimes
called Edward the Long.
To what
extent was Edward responsible for the unprecedented slaughter of rebellious
nobility at the Battle of Evesham? Is there any evidence to suggest that he
ordered his men to ‘murder’ Simon de Montfort on the battlefield?
The answers
are ‘entirely’ and ‘yes’. Evesham had long been recognized as an unusually
bloody encounter – in this era, the nobility spared and ransomed each other,
and killing was strictly taboo. One contemporary writer, aghast at the amount
of blood spilt, described it as ‘the murder of Evesham’. Edward’s personal role
in instigating the slaughter only became clear about ten years ago, when a new
account of the battle was discovered on the reverse of a roll in the College of
Arms. Evidently written by a well-informed eye-witness, this amazing find added
the fact that, before the two sides engaged, Edward hand-picked a death squad
to hunt down Montfort and kill him.
How deep was Edward’s commitment to the crusading cause? Was it the militaristic equivalent of his father’s devotion to the cult of Edward the Confessor?
Well, he
actually went on crusade, which is more than any other English king did, with
the obvious exception of his great uncle, Richard the Lionheart. You don’t save
up for years on end, sacrificing all other concerns and ignoring pleas to remain
at home, then trek from one end of Europe to the other, risking your life with
numerous sea voyages, and suffering manifold privations, unless you’re pretty
committed. What hasn’t really been stressed enough in the past, however, is the
extent to which Edward continued to be committed to the crusade for the rest of
his reign. He firmly intended to go again, at the head of a much greater host,
and spent most of the 1280s making preparations to do so. The only reason these
plans collapsed was the unexpected outbreak of a war with France in 1294. As
for the second part of the question, Edward’s devotion to the crusade was far
less odd than his father’s devotion to the Confessor – recovering Jerusalem was
the highest ideal of his age. His father’s attachment to a long-dead
Anglo-Saxon saint was by contrast quite quirky.
Was Edward’s queen, Eleanor of Castile, as politically active as his mother, Eleanor of Provence?
No. Eleanor
of Provence is a fascinating character, and the subject of a wonderful recent
biography. She acquired a political role, and hence attracted more contemporary
comment, because of Henry III’s weakness, which allowed factions to develop
within his own family. Edward, on the other hand, was one of the most masterful
kings England has ever known, and there were no similar divisions at his court.
Hence his wife (and, for that matter, his younger brother) are less easy to
characterize, because they supported him at all times, and their personalities
were overshadowed by his.
Who would you consider to be Edward’s most
formidable military opponent?
It’s either
Baybars, the Egyptian sultan whom Edward faced when he was in the Holy Land, or
Philip IV, king of France, with whom Edward went to war in 1294. Both were
considerably more powerful.
Why did Edward embark upon such a monumental
campaign of castle-building in Wales? Would you agree that it was the ‘most
coordinated and impressive…in medieval history’?
Edward
considered that he had solved the problem of Wales in 1277. When, therefore,
the Welsh subsequently rebelled in 1282, he determined on a final solution of
outright conquest. The new castles at Caernarfon, Conwy and Harlech were
necessary to hold the newly conquered territory. They were certainly the most
impressive chain of fortresses erected in Britain in the Middle Ages, and
probably in Europe too, though no doubt someone will tell me otherwise. Whether
they were unnecessarily large is a moot point. They did the job as intended, in
that the Welsh never recovered their independence. And although the cost was
considerable, totalling about £100,000, that was not much less than the cost of
a war, which the castles ensured would not have to repeated.
What would you describe as Edward’s most
serious lapse of judgment? Did he ever face the real threat of a rebellion in
England?
His most
serious lapse of judgement did not concern England at all, but Scotland.
Edward’s mistake was to assume that he could treat Scotland like Wales. When
his plans for a marriage alliance with the Scots collapsed in 1290, Edward
browbeat the Scots into admitting his superior lordship, ignoring their claims
to be an independent kingdom. The trouble this ultimately caused him – viz.
ceaseless war from 1294 – almost led to a tax revolt in England. In the summer
of 1297, the king’s opponents were holding armed assemblies, and the earl of
Hereford’s men were going about saying he was against the king’s peace.
If you had to give one reason for Edward’s
failure to conquer Scotland, what would it be?
Regnal
solidarity. There were, of course, myriad reasons why Scotland proved too much
for Edward: it was bigger than Wales, more distant from England, and the king
himself was becoming older. But the bottom line is that, whereas Wales was
politically divided, Scotland had a strong sense of itself as a united kingdom.
Scottish nationalism was given a massive boost by Edward’s attempt at conquest,
but it also had a long history of existence before that time.
Which of
Edward’s castles do you admire the most?
Caernarfon is the grandest but can sometimes leave me rather cold – there’s little sense of Edward’s personality there, because it was never finished. Conwy, for that reason, is probably my personal favourite of the Welsh castles. Finished in just four years, and with the king’s chambers still intact, it imparts, to my mind, a strong sense of the man behind it.
If you had to
recommend two other books on Edward that everyone should read, what would it
be?
I’m going
to cheat, because I have to mention the two previous biographies by Prestwich
and Powicke. But for more recent writing that deals with interesting aspects of
Edward’s reign, I’d say Expulsion by
Richard Huscroft, and The First English
Empire by Rees Davies.
What are you working on at the moment?
Rediscovering the bits of my brain that haven’t been completely conquered by Edward I.
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