Books like Elfrida

This is a book about much more than just the most famous of the Saxon kings, Alfred the Great. The narrative begins in 789 and runs to 955, and charts not only the ‘beginning’ of England, as we know it, but also the ‘end’ of the smaller kingdoms of Northumbria, East Anglia, and Mercia. One of the more recent of my book recommendations, Max Adams simply thinks about Saxon England the way that I do, and he’s able to weave a narrative that’s conscious of both the narrative sources for the period and recent archaeological advances. I often pick up his books (he’s written two others about earlier Saxon England) to make use of his timelines and maps. He has a lightness of touch and flair that makes even the murkiest of topics, engaging and more importantly, comprehensible.

I’ve owned this book for over thirty years, and it’s still my ‘go-to-book’ for the earliest of the English kingdoms—charting the centuries when Northumbria, Mercia, and then Wessex were in the ascendant during Saxon England. It’s so readable and engaging. Without it, I don’t believe my passion for the era would ever have gained flight. And it’s not that it shies away from the more complicated arguments about source material and complexities in the narrative record. No, it does all that and much, much more. I still believe it to be one of the best books on the period, and I know for a fact, that many other Saxon historical fiction authors have this book on their bookshelves.

Finally, one of my recommendations has lots of pictures in it. The Death of Anglo-Saxon England charts the closing century of Saxon England. This book was written for a general audience and is a thoroughly engrossing read. I can remember taking it with me on day trips so that I could find a corner and stick my head in the book, and my version is replete with many, many bits of paper sticking out from the pages. Complete with all the images and pictures, the author presents an easy-to-understand and chronological account of the events that led to the Norman Conquest of 1066. I’m not saying I agree with everything in this book, but it’s a very good starting point for those with a growing interest in the period.

Aethelstan is an engrossing account of king Aethelstan, lauded as the first crowned king of ‘England,’ something his father, and more importantly, his grandfather, King Alfred, was unable to lay claim to. It’s a thorough examination of all that’s known about Aethelstan during his reign. It’s rare to get a book dedicated to any one single king before the reign of Æthelred II, who was Aethelstan’s great, great-nephew, and reigned thirty years later. The work shows just how much can be gleaned about historical figures during this period by experts in the field, who know how to unpick all the complicated details and present them to readers in an engaging format.

Found in the British Library, where I would be quite happy to move in on a permanent basis if only they would let me.

I’ve read many excellent biographies of medieval women there, including Kimberley LoPrete’s Adela de Blois, Alison Weir’s Queens of the Conquest, Kari Maund’s Princess Nest of Wales, and Lois L. Honeycutt’s Matilda of Scotland. Clarkson’s biography is eminently readable.

In lucid and concise prose garnished with maps, genealogies, a good index, and bibliography, this book paints a fascinating picture of King Alfred’s daughter.

Eleanor of Castile, who was the first wife of Edward I, is one of the most fascinating of English queens. Posthumously, thanks to the series of crosses her husband erected in her memory, she gained the reputation of a perfect, peerless queen. However, the real Eleanor was very much a controversial figure, renowned for her acquisitiveness. Eleanor has been the subject of much academic study in the work of John Carmi Parsons and others, however, I particularly recommend Sara Cockerill’s recent study for its compelling narrative and detailed research. Cockerill brings this fascinating figure to life, giving equal weight to her political importance and her significant role within the royal family.

This book provides a different angle on Jane Seymour. I’ve never particularly ‘liked’ fictional Janes because they are usually so one-dimensional but this author delves more deeply. Jane’s character is subtle. On the surface she seems meek but beneath the façade she is quite determined to get what she wants. Often, the modern ideal of strong women doesn’t sit well on historical figures but J. Wertman has understood that subterfuge was often the only way for a female, even a queen, to get her own way. Janet Wertman has written other engaging Tudor books but this is my favourite.

No list of books about Henry VIII’s wives is complete without one of Philippa Gregory’s. She has written numerous fictional accounts of these women, most famously The Other Boleyn Girl, which was adapted into a feature film starring Scarlett Johansson. I have chosen this one as it tells the fascinating story of Catherine of Aragon, Henry's first wife, who was also married to his older brother Arthur. Gregory, in her typically arresting style, depicts the child bride, a pawn in European politics, brought over from Spain to marry the heir to the English throne, only to be widowed within months, and the impossible political situation she found herself in.

From the Windsors’ Nazi leanings in the 1930s to the perceived chilliness of the royal family following the death of Diana in 1997, Clive Irving chronicles every detail in this analysis of the modern monarchy – while never losing respect for its most adroit exponent, Queen Elizabeth II. As founder of the renowned Insight team of the London Sunday Times that exposed Profumo and Philby, Irving directs his sharpest focus on the Crown’s relations with the tabloid media. But his book went to publication prior to the horse-loving Queen’s humorous reaction to Harry and Meghan’s notorious 2021 encounter with Oprah Winfrey – Her Majesty named her fastest new racing foal “Interview”. 

This is the hilarious account of an official biographer tracking down European royalty. They were the extended family of Queen Mary, the current queen’s grandmother. Pope-Hennessey had been commissioned to write the official biography of Mary, the wife of King George V. He talked to a full range of eccentrics who were either relations of Queen Mary, or knew her well. The behind-the-scenes gossip he was given, as well as the insight into the absurdities of having a royal family in a democratic country, are both priceless.