Monday 16 January 2012

The mysterious death of William Rufus


"The sun was now declining, when the king, drawing his bow and letting fly an arrow, slightly wounded a stag which passed before him... At this instant Walter decided to kill another stag. Oh, gracious God! the arrow pierced the king's breast."

This quote from a medieval monk (William of Malmesbury) describes a hunting trip in the New Forest in 1100. According to him, William II (nicknamed Rufus for his reddish hair or ruddy complexion) was happily chasing down a stag when Walter Tirrel, one of his associates, seems to have "missed" the stag he was aiming for and killed the king (woops really doesn't seem to do it justice). As if this weren't dodgy enough, the entire hunting party then ran away fearing that the death of the king would bring chaos to their estates. 

So, if you thought that the Middle Ages were the more chivalrous times of Robin Hood think of William II's body being flung on the back of a cart by an unsuspecting peasant called Purkis: one of the few people who can say that they have stumbled upon a king's corpse whilst out walking in the forest. Most of those present at the death later received promotions under the new king; Henry I. Suspicious.

You can relive the whole thing in a Horrible Histories style here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9nxOgPuj_w

This bit of history is fascinating both for its gory conclusion and its web of lies. It's also a useful time to explain to year 7s that we sometimes can't know what happened in the past. Sometimes the past is a bit like a dark unknowable world that we only get snippets of information about from a small number of people. This can be frustrating if you like to know definite answers to solid questions. But if, like me, you think that the mystery is as interesting as the answer, this history is excellent.


To add to the conundrum, remember that our guides through the mysterious world of the past are not innocent bystanders. William had a pretty awful relationship with the church and more or less all of the chronicle writers were educated monks and would have declared the death an accident even if they had seen the final blow themselves. Perhaps the moral of the story is not to upset historians if you want a good epitaph.

Then again, maybe it was all an accident and I am far too suspicious. Like some of the best mysteries, perhaps we will never know.