The Anglo-Saxons and the Roman Church (Currently Editing)

 

Today, some Anglo-Catholics revere C. S. Lewis as one of their own. Lewis, however, preferred low-church styles of worship (Duriez 117). Yet, Anglo-Catholics are attempting to rewrite far more of history than the life of C. S. Lewis. Indeed, one need not venture far into the social media of Anglo-Catholics to find many of them making the erroneous and pseudo-historical claim that their present Anglican Church is somehow the same in theology and in practice as the English/Anglo-Saxon Church before 1066. They often assert that William, duke of Normandy, with papal approval, invaded England and suppressed Anglicanism while imposing the tainted teachings of Roman Catholicism, which remained in force until the English Reformation of the sixteenth century. In this post, I have set out to disprove their thesis and argue my own: that the Anglo-Saxons before 1066 were not Anglican. 

Let me start off by noting that J. R. R. Tolkien, a long professor of Anglo-Saxon at Pembroke College in Oxford, was not only a scholar of Old English language and literature, but as an expert in his subject, would vehemently reject the claims of such Anglo-Catholics. In fact, Tolkien considered Anglicanism a distortion of the Roman Catholic Church (https://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Christianity#:~:text=Anglicanism%2C%20which%20Tolkien%20considered%20a,distortion%20of%20the%20previous%20Catholicism), showing that he wouldn't have approved of the idea that the Anglo-Saxons before 1066 believed the same faith as the later Anglican reformers. I also find it interesting that I've never once heard C. S. Lewis, though being Anglican, postulate the view in any of his books on Medieval literature that the English Church before 1066 was somehow Anglican. In fact, I highly doubt that Lewis would have believed that. 

In past blog posts, I discussed the topic of whether or not the Anglo-Saxon Church (the English Church before 1066) was a pre-Anglican/papal resisting church or a Roman Catholic/Eastern Orthodox Church. Concerning the former theory, while at times I defended the view that the Anglo-Saxons did not hold to papal supremacy, I see much doubt for such a theory now. True, Archbishop Stigand did refuse to comply with certain papal demands in the eleventh century (though this still doesn't prove whether or not Stigand would have approved of the later English Reformation and Anglican Church). But I don't think the historical evidence weighs strongly in favor of the idea that the Anglo-Saxon era-English Church was Anglican or a pre-Anglican Church, whether or not one supports the Protestant Reformation. (Should I include this section or make this post one long post with various sections defending my thesis and appealing to my past sources). 

Early Medieval Europe saw the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons to Christianity. While the Franks played a role in these efforts, the papacy did even more (Cruz and Gerdburg, 168). Rome had long been absent from English politics, showing that its eventual influence over the English Church couldn't have been just about it being a neighboring country to England (the Franks and other people groups would have been geographically closer to the Anglo-Saxons than the Romans would have been). Interestingly enough, Augustine of Canterbury, as he came to be known, had been commissioned by Pope Gregory of Rome to Christianize the British people (168). Augustine actually modeled the eventual structures of the Anglo-Saxon Church off that of the Roman one (169).  

Recently, I read from two scholars, Jo Ann H. Moran Cruz and Richard Gerberding, who, as Medieval historians, I believe, provide further insight on this topic in their book's section on the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons to Christianity: 

''The Roman liturgy was adopted, although it is clear how quickly and to what degree this came about. It also became the custom of the Archbishops of Canterbury from the time of Augustine onwards to receive from the pope himself the pallium, the reciprocal giving of many costly gifts between England and Rome, and the importation of Roman books and personnel all indicate the strong papal influence in the English Church'' (169). 

To me, not only does the great liturgical influence of the early Medieval Roman Church on the English Church bear witness against the narrative presented by many of today's Anglo-Catholics (who often argue that the Anglican Church was somehow present long before the English Reformation), but the deep contact between the archbishops of Canterbury and popes seems to greatly link the two together in one church. Had Canterbury been equal in dignity and in honor to that of Rome, why follow Rome's practices concerning liturgy? In my opinion, the evidence doesn't testify to the view (again held by many Anglo-Catholics) that the bishop of Rome was perceived in England as just as another bishop, no greater than those presiding over Canterbury. 

Historian Jackson S. Spiegel notes that papal supremacy was already known and regarded in the fifth century (218). This, of course, was before the Anglo-Saxons of England converted in the sixth century (Cruz, Gerbeding, 168). Pope Gregory, who had sent Augustine to Britain, was heavily involved in overseeing parts of Europe (not just in England), converting to Christianity, largely by his initiatives (Spiegal, 219-220). When Gregory did acknowledge a higher authority in Europe, it was the Byzantine emperor (220). 

King Alfred the Great (849-899) was a devout Anglo-Saxon monarch who not only attended Mass faithfully but listened to Scripture read to him (Damrosch and Dettmar, 129). Alfred translated several works into Old English, including Pope Gregory's Pastoral Care (129). Much like the Anglo-Saxons long before him, he had strong ties to the Roman Church. 

When William, the Duke of Normandy, invaded England in 1066, he had papal approval (add citation). He had already conquered other places beforehand (341). But why would the pope approve his conquest of England? Was it because the English Church had all along been opposed to papal supremacy, and the pope was now forcing the English to obey his rule? 

When one looks carefully at the situation of England prior to and during 1066, Stigand, the archbishop of Canterbury, held several bishopric positions (something the papacy said was corrupt). He also received his office while the prior bishop was still alive (add citation). Furthermore, Sitigand supported an antipope (add citation). The archbishop had also stolen his position from the bishop before him (add citation). Perhaps most strikingly, Stigand submitted to the Norman conqueror after the Battle of Hastings (add citation). Had the archbishop of Canterbury believed his religion was something entirely different than the Roman Church or that of the conqueror, why would he have accepted the loss of his position and submitted to his new king? 

Which is why I believe the Norman Conquest of 1066 has very little relation to the later English Reformation. The idea that the Anglo-Saxons under Harold Godwinson, king of England, had been trying to stop the spread of Roman Catholicism over England during the Battle of Hastings is alien to the facts of history. While there were issues of tension between Rome and Canterbury in 1066, I don't see any of those that validate the view that Anglicanism had been present in England centuries before Medieval Catholicism. 

Methinks (as the Medievals would say) that the burden is left with those who assert that the English Church before 1066 was Anglican. Though the Anglo-Saxons did translate Bibles before the Norman Conquest in the eleventh century into Old English, not only did they rely on Latin translations for their own (again, showing Roman influence), but how does this prove Anglicanism? There were translations of the Bible into German long before the eleventh century as well*(https://www.aberdeennews.com/story/lifestyle/faith/2017/08/20/martin-luthers-history-changing-translation-of-the-bible/116804024/). Does this prove that early Medieval Germans were not Catholic? I don't think so. In fact, the Middle Ages bear witness to a number of Catholic attempts to translate at least part of the Bible into the vernacular long before the Protestant Reformation (add the Trent source). As Anthony E. Gilles notes concerning the work of monks on Bible translations, ''This process of copying took time, and there were few who could either afford or read what the monks' hands produced. For these practical reasons, and not because of a clerical conspiracy to keep the laity ignorant of God's Word, Bibles were seldom owned or read by the laity (50).'' 

Gilles later adds, ''Yet the core of lay spirituality was biblical nonetheless. 'The Bible' for the average Christian became the oral Bible, which he or she heard preached during liturgies, and the graphic Bible, which was painted on the walls of churches and stitched into tapestries'' (50). Indeed, many of the medievals believed that the manifold wisdom of God was protected by the church (Ephesians 3:10). To them, the church was the pillar and ground of the truth (1 Timothy 3:15). Thus, whether it was Bible translations by monks or reliance on Western icons, the British people found hope in Catholic Christianity. And for many in the West, including the Anglo-Saxons, the primary guardian of Christian faith and practice in early Medieval Europe was the pope himself. 

Medieval Catholicism 

Was England a Roman Catholic country before the Norman Conquest of 1066? I think the evidence shows that it was either Roman Catholic or Western Orthodox, as both of these churches long pre-dated the Protestant Reformation and Anglicanism. Whether or not it was Catholic or Orthodox, however, may depend on whether or not one believes the papacy was the same before 1054 as it was after. Either way, I see no firm evidence that the English Church of the Anglo-Saxons was somehow an early Protestant or Anglo-Catholic Church, which held the views of the papacy, among other topics, of later reformers like Thomas Cranmer. 

Of course, some of the Anglican reformers, like Matthew Parker, well knew that, past Anglo-Saxons like Ælfric of Eynsham had a different philosophy of the Lord's Table than transubstantiation*3. However, it is widely recognized today that Transubstantiation was not universally taught in Medieval Western Christianity (especially before the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215, though also after). Until sufficient evidence is shown that the Anglo-Saxons viewed the popes as no more than standard Western bishops, I think the evidence is clear that the Anglo-Saxons could only have been Roman Catholic or Orthodox. 

Additionally, I think it should be noted that the Anglican Church of the sixteenth century rejected monasticism, which had been practiced by Normans and Anglo-Saxons long before the sixteenth century. In fact, it was not until the Anglo-Catholic/Oxford movement of the nineteenth century that monasticism was embraced by many in Anglicanism (https://christianhistoryinstitute.org/dailystory/permalink/ayres-restored-monasticism-to-the-anglicans). Had the early Anglican Church of the sixteenth century been the same as the Anglo-Saxons of the early Middle Ages, I don't think something as important as monasticism would have differed between the two so greatly. Scholars like (the author of Thomas Cornwall) also acknowledge that the Church of England did not start until the Protestant Reformation. To Cornwall, it was the Protestant Edward VI, not the Anglo-Saxons who started the Church of England. 

Recent research also undermines the idea that England was headed toward a Reformation of its own from the Catholic Church before the rise of Henry VIII to power. For instance, Catholicism was vibrant in England before Henry VIII's breach from Rome (Spielvogel, 436-437). There was no massive, suppressed attempt to make the church in England a separate entity devoid of papal supremacy in late Medieval England before the Protestant Reformation. 

What do the consequences of Henry's breach of Rome mean for us today? After all, it has long been argued by Catholics that England would still be Catholic if it hadn't been for Henry VIII. If true, Anglicans, as well as those that came from them, including Methodists, Baptists, and other Christians, derive from a tradition founded on a desire for divorce (leaving Baptists and others who came from the Church of England little to no room to critisize Henry VIII as the founder of the Anglican Church if their own tradition wouldn't exist apart from his desire for divorce). On the other hand, if one claims that Edward VI or Elizabeth I was the founder of the Church of England (as some scholars do) and not Henry VIII, then one may conclude that the English Reformation was about more than divorce. Nevertheless, neither of these topics is the subject of this post. In this post, I'm not interested in either defending either Rome or Canterbury during the sixteenth century. Rather, I again assert that the English Church before 1066 was a Roman Catholic country. 

In my opinion, there is a reason why so many professional historians argue that the pre-1066 Anglo-Saxon Church was Roman Catholic and why so many Anglo-Catholics argue otherwise. I think that in the latter case, many of the Anglo-Catholics hold to a pseudo-history of England, not much respected by prominent historical scholars like Eamon Duffy and others, who have England strongly for England's Roman Catholicism prior to the 1066 Norman Conquest. Duffy points to the taking down of the altars (formerly used for the Eucharist) during the English Reformation as a breach of the Church of England from the Catholic Church of England*4. While many Anglo-Catholics today would acknowledge the importance of altars in worship, they are diverting from traditional Anglicanism, as seen in the early English Reformation, which sought the simplicity of the Lord's Table*5. 

Other factors are also important to be aware of. For instance, the English Reformation saw the end of monasticism in England. The Anglo-Saxons before 1066 had practiced it, however, showing that the latter were not early Anglicans. While it is true that not all priests were celibate in the Anglo-Saxon Church before 1066 (much like today's Anglicanism), neither were all church clergy in Catholic Europe at the time (https://today.duke.edu/2005/10/priestsoped.html). Furthermore, I don't think many of the clergy in England being married proves anything against the English being Roman Catholic (a later term innovated by Anglicans during the English Reformation). Indeed, many past Catholic clergy were married before the eleventh century (Gilles, 70), showing that this was not limited to just England (and many Orthodox in the East were married as well). If anything, I think the fact that there were married clergy in England would at most prove Orthodoxy, not Anglicanism. 

Therefore, while there are arguably many nuances to this discussion, I think it's either historical ignorance or a willful denial of facts on the part of many Anglo-Catholics to claim that their church existed before 1066. Of course, the purpose of this post was not to debate whether Anglican or Catholic theology is more biblical. Nor am I here to discuss whether or not the English Reformation was legitimate and necessary. I do, however, want people to be aware of the massive fraudulent claims posed by some Anglo-Catholics across internet discussion boards and how their claims often contradict the facts of history. I think that there is a reason that so many Anglo-Catholics have degrees in theology, though not in history, as they are often reading their views into the past. 

Finally, as someone who has studied the Middle Ages my entire life and is now a PhD student in Medieval literature, I find the claims that Anglicanism or any Protestant Church, for that matter, historically pre-dated the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches to be historically absurd. Western Europe, both before and after 1066, was heavily connected to the Church of Rome through its secular and religious rulers. While many Eastern Orthodox and Roman Catholics will differ on whether or not the church of Rome asserted the same type of papal primacy before 1054 as it did after, I think the evidence is clear that the Roman Church exercised an important role in Western Europe. Regarding the Anglo-Saxons, I also think that the evidence is clear that they were not Anglicans before William the Conqueror overtook them during the Norman Conquests. 

Recent Academic work

Several important incidents have occurred over the last several months. Among them was a bug hitting my eye back in Spring (which later resulted in my eye surgery). My eye is still in pain on the date that I write this post. 

On the other hand, I recently finished all the requirements for a Master of Arts in Theological Studies. Honestly, I am now considering the option of becoming an English professor again. I canceled the Greek class I was intending to start this August due to my eye pain. Whether I pursue a PhD in Biblical Studies, history, Theological Studies, or English, I don't know yet. What I do know, however, is that I want my eye to be better. 

Prayers appreciated! 

Why France was England's Rightful Claim During the Hundred Year's War

The Hundred Years' War lasted from 1337 to 1453. Widely recognized as among the most important series of events in the Middle Ages, it helped usher in the end of the Medieval period and the being of the modern era. 

The war (or series of wars), of course, was primarily between England and France (though other countries did get involved as well). Many famous medievals, including Edward III, Edward, the Black Prince, Henry V, and Joan of Arc, were all involved in different stages of the long conflict that began during the Black Plague. 

But while the Hundred Years' War is important to students of history, there is one particular question that I hope to address in this post: who was right? Did England or France have the greater claims of righteousness in the struggle that lasted one hundred and sixteen years? 

There are many reasons to believe that England was in the right when it came to the Hundred Years' War. For one, one of the origins of the conflict was Philip VI of France ordering Scotland to have peace with England. When England refused, he made war upon its people. Thus, France was actually the aggressor---which is contrary to what many today would probably think. By seizing Aquitaine from the English, the French instigated the long brawl between the two countries simply because England would not make peace with Scotland, France's ally. 

Even so, England won the majority of the Hundred Years' War. Joan of Arc did play a hand in helping the French win the Siege of Orleans (1428-1429), but her inspiration for France was not enough to cause the defeat of the English. Rather, England's internal conflicts allowed the rise of Joan of Arc and other French leaders, who only began to win the war in its last stages---during which England was divided by itself. 

So, in short, France ushered in the war because England refused to make peace with Scotland. England won the majority of the war (including some of the most famous battles, such as Sluys, Crecy, Poitiers, and Agincourt). France only began to win during the last stages of the war, and this had little to do with Joan of Arc. The French had better supply lines to defend the castles near their armies, and their use of the canon continued to give them an advantage. Lastly, England came into conflict with itself, setting the stage for the Wars of the Roses. 

Considering these reasons, the conflict was simply hard for England to win. Though Henry V conquered France, his English successors to the crown could not keep it. 

And even strategy aside, England had controlled lands like those in Aquitaine before the war. Considering that France chose to seize them in their attempt to force England into peace with Scotland, England had the legitimate right to invade France with its forces. 

Another reason to solidify England's claims to authority over France is found in the Salic Law, mentioned in Shaskespeare's Henry V. 

As historical background, when Phillip IV of France died in 1314, he left a daughter, along with three sons. However, none of his sons had any heirs, which meant that the French throne passed through his daughter, Isabelle. Nevertheless, she married Edward II of England and had with him a child, Edward III. The English rightly considered Edward III as the legitimate heir not only because the English said so but because he was in direct lineage from Philip the Fair, king of France. 

However, the French dismissed Henry V, for instance, from being king of France according to the rules of the Salic Law, which the French used against him. Their interpretation of the document was that it barred any king from taking the throne whose line was only through the woman (in this case, Henry V's claim was through Isabelle). 

In the opening of Shakespeare's play of the same name, the archbishop of Canterbury persuades Henry Plantagenet to invade France. As they discuss with one another Henry's claims to power, they are persuaded that the document has no binding force against them as the land of Salic they recognize to be part of Germany (though France considers it to be its own). Perhaps more convincing, though, is that even though the French disregard Henry as the rightful heir to the French throne considering his lineage through the female line, Hugh Capet, a former king of the Franks, had done the same in the tenth century. 

And as further proof of Henry's claims for rightful reign, Louis X ensured his grandmother as having a legitimate bloodline to the monarchy (also demonstrating that Louix X recognized the female line as having power in itself). In general, there were cases of French monarchs long before Henry V who were regarded as rightful kings despite their claims to power coming through the female line, yet why did the French not question them as they now did the claims of the English? And since many of the French kings had descended in power through their female lines, the Archbishop of Canterbury concluded that the Salic Law had never been intended as a binding document on all of France but only on the lands claimed by France in the German region. 

But what about Joan of Arc's apparitions? Don't they prove the French were in the right? 

One of the interesting aspects of apparitions is who is recording what the saint is saying. Take, for example, Roman Catholics and Eastern Orthodox, who both believe in apparitions, but Eastern theologians are likely to question the authenticity of Our Lady of Fatima. In the same way, Joan of Arc claimed apparitions from God, but who is to say that her apparitions are more holy or true than any potentially given to the English side? Oftentimes, people who point to the apparitions of Joan start with the presumptions that she was given revelation from God to the exclusion of all else on the English side. 

And let me add that as a side note, while the English and French at this time agreed that a woman could not rule on her own as queen, they disagreed over whether or not she could pass such lineage to her children. However, for reasons already demonstrated, the French had many times considered their movements legitimate even when they succeeded only through the female line. 

In conclusion, the French contradicted themselves about their legal claims to possess territories such as Aquitaine (and other places in Northern France). The English did not instigate the war, though the French did. Invading Aquitaine (at that time, England's territory) provoked England to begin a massive war on the Kingdom of France. Though England won more substantial victories over the French than the reverse, England had to pull out its troops for the reasons already mentioned. 

The Hundred Years' War remains one of the most important events in the Middle Ages. Separating it from fiction is important along with any event in history. 

An Update on my Academic Pursuit

 Over the last several years, I have blogged about Medieval Studies. Indeed, I began this blog back in 2019. Since that time, many people online have been exposed to many of my writings. 

When beginning this blog, I said that I wish to get a Bachelor of Science in History and a Master's in English. I also wanted to get an MA in Medieval Studies. However, I later switched to majoring in English and am now about to graduate with a Bachelor of Science in English and Writing. 

There were many reasons that I switched to English. Among them was because I wanted to learn more about literature, writing, and publishing. Since enrolling at Liberty University four years ago, I have done that. However, now, I wish to return to historical and theological studies. Majoring in English has prepared me to pursue a career as a novelist, which I will be doing as I also pursue seminary. As I also no longer have any interest in being a secondary teacher, I wish to become a college or university professor. 

I'm in the last semester of my degree. Soon, I will be done with my undergrad in English. I am grateful for this. I am ready to move on. I no longer desire to be an English professor or teacher. I now wish to become a professor of either history or theology. Back in 2015, when I graduated from high school, I struggled to decide between majoring in religion or history. In 2019, though, a year before I enrolled at Liberty, I decided to switch out to English. With my Bachelor's degree essentially now done, I am ready to return to my academic pursuit of religion. 

Finally, I originally desired to major in history or religion. While my Bachelor's degree is in English, my Master's degree will be in a seminary field. From there, I will pursue a doctorate, either in history, theological studies, English literature, or in a biblical studies field. 

An Update on My Religious Views

The study of ancient Christianity has always been inspirational to me. I love to learn about Early Christianity. Yet the more I learn of Early Christianity, the weaker I see the theology of Baptists, Presbyterians, and Pentecostals. Not only was the early church very liturgical, but its beliefs about free will, salvation, baptism, and the Eucharist were far from much of contemporary Evangelicalism in America. 

To make matters more clear, I no longer consider myself a Protestant. There are many reasons for this. I find Peter Leithart's Reformation Catholicism more attractive than what many today think of Protestantism*1. For example, Leithart says Protestants believe whatever is opposite of the Catholic Church, which is an area where he disagrees with them. On the contrary, he affirms the Reformation and sees himself as a Reformation Catholic. 

Leithart's opinion is not alone, however. Some Lutherans don't consider themselves ''Protestant'' as the word originally had political implications about protesting the Holy Roman Emperor rather than that of the Catholic Church's theology. Perhaps more complicated still, Protestantism has lost theological meaning, with Kenneth Copeland, Baptists, and Lutherans all classified by Catholics as Protestants. And even if the term ''Protestant'' is used only to describe those denominations that were born in the Reformation, this too changes its original meaning as the word was historically used to describe German Lutherans who dissented from the emperor's condemnation of Luther (and did not refer to Lutherans in Noway or Anglicans in England). Luther himself preferred the term ''Evangelical.'' Unfortunately, in the present day, the meaning of the word, ''Protestant'' is often deployed by people who disregard everything about the Catholic Church. 

As discussed in one article written by a Lutheran*2, ''Protestants'' referred either specifically only to German Lutherans or, perhaps even more specifically, to those Holy Roman princes who objected to the emperor's condemnation of Luther. Certainly, over time, Anglicans and others would eventually grasp the term, but the meaning of Protestantism has changed over time. 

Furthermore, the history of the term is full of so many complications, often depending on one's theology. While the Catholics considered all other Western Christians to be ''Protestant,'' Anglicans disregarded Baptists and others from being considered ''Protestants.'' And as already mentioned, Luther did not prefer this word to describe his followers and associates. Instead, the early Lutherans wished to be called ''Evangelical,'' as they saw themselves as being Gospel-centered. 

Moreover, the early Anglicans, during Henry VIII's reign, accepted many Catholic practices and beliefs. While there is debate about whether Anglican should be considered ''Protestant,'' it's important to recall that Charles II, before his beheading by the Puritans, professed loyalty to the Protestant faith. The Episcopal Church, likewise, was historically titled ''The Protestant Episcopal Church,'' yet both of these were not at the origins of the Anglican Church. When one looks at the Church of England before the reign of Edward VI, for instance, the church itself was very Catholic. 

Still, some may argue that Edward VI, not Henry VIII, founded the Anglican Church. Regardless of one's view on the origins of the Anglican Church, however, Anglo-Catholics were always present in the Church of England—long before the Oxford movement of the mid- and late nineteenth century. 

How else can the term be defined? Some Catholics now list Mormons as ''Protestants.'' Likewise, some Reformed Baptists would consider themselves ''Protestants,'' though others would reject their legitimacy as Reformed Baptists were not born out of the Reformation. And if being simply a daughter church or a grandaughter church of a Reformation Church makes one ''Protestant,'' who has the authority to declare Kenneth Copeland or Joel Osteen from not being ''Protestant?'' Reformed Baptists? Why do they think that they get to define who is ''Protestant'' and who is not? 

And even if we say that ''Protestant'' only refers to those Christians who dissented from Rome in the sixteenth century (as I once argued in the past), then can most Christians in even the Lutheran or Anglican denominations of today even claim to be Protestant, when most Anglican and Lutheran communions originated even later. Look at dictionaries to see how they define ''Protestant.'' You get various definitions. That's because it is more or less dead, with Catholics mostly keeping alive as they often generalize all other Western Christians (including KJennth Copeland) as Protestants. But whether it be TV Evangelists like John Macarthur, Ray Comfort, or Kenneth Copeland, none of these men have much in common with the early Lutheran Reformation. In fact, if the reader takes the time to study Luther's writings, in many ways, he is far closer to Rome than he is to these men. 

Those who today consider themselves ''Protestant'' have essentially nothing in common with all those who have aligned themselves under this label. There is no confession, no creed, and no church council that they all agree with. To many Evangelicals, icons and images are in themselves breaking the Second Commandment, yet these were never the views of mainstream Lutherans before or after the Reformation. 

In general, I think it's unfair how many Evangelicals disregard everything about Catholicism. I also think it's unfair, however, that many Catholic Apologists lump Joel Osteen, ELCA Lutherans, Southern Baptists, and the Church of England all into the fold of being Protestants. Mainstream American Evangelicalism has almost nothing to do with the Reformation, either in theology or history. 

Previously, I used the term ''Moderate Protestant'' to distinguish myself from extreme Evangelicals and Fundamentalists. More recently, though, I would rather identify with the Reformation movements following the Book of Concord or The Thirty-Nine Articles than with those often classified as ''Protestants.'' Part of my change of view is learning more about the origin of the word ''Protestant'' and how it was originally only about a very specific group of people (which also concerned their political differences from their emperor). 

Now, I no longer identify as a ''Moderate Protestant. I feel closer to both Confessional and High Church Lutheranism, along with Anglo-Catholicism, than I do with mainstream American Protestant Christianity. I also align closer with Eastern Orthodoxy, for instance, than I do with Fundamentalism. In many ways, Luther and the early Lutherans looked far more Catholic than today's Baptists or Presbyterians. 

Finally, I appreciate the definition of ''Protestant'' by Brittinnicca: ''Throughout the eighteenth century the word Protestant was still defined in relation to the 16th-century Reformation*3.'' This certainly would exclude Baptists from being true Protestants, as the Baptists were a separatist movement out of the Church of England in the seventeenth century. 

For more information, I urge the reader to read the articles listed below. 

*1-https://www.firstthings.com/web-exclusives/2013/11/the-end-of-protestantism

*2-https://katolikken.wordpress.com/2018/05/07/why-i-am-not-and-will-never-call-myself-a-protestant/

*3-https://www.britannica.com/topic/Protestantism

A Recent Update on Plans

For the past several years, I have majored in English. Finally, I'm grateful to say that my English degree is nearly finished. I am in the last semester of my bachelor of science. 

Majoring in English has prepared me for post-graduate studies in either history or theology, both of which greatly interest me. Learning about English literature and writing are not only particular passions that I have, but have also prepared me for skills in other fields, such as Biblical Studies, where it is important to analyze and interpret the meaning of Scripture. 

Now, I'm about to finish my bachelor's in English and Writing. Once finished with my current program, I will be pursuing an MA in Biblical Studies, with a focus on the New Testament. After that, I will be pursuing some sort of PhD, though I am not sure which one I wish to do yet. Of course, Medieval history and Early Christianity remain top interests on my part. 

Whether I pursue a PhD in Medieval history or in a theological discipline, I hope to connect my academic studies to Medieval Studies. In the case of theology, for example, the study of the New Testament and Early Christians can aid the medievalist as the individual tries to learn more about Medieval Christianity. 

For the past five years, I have used this blog to reach others about Medieval history and propel myself to becoming a professional medievalist. 

I appreciate all my prayers for my journey. Thanks to all who have followed this blog. 

The Cause of the Great Schism According to an Eastern Christian Perspective

 

The so-called ''Great Schidsm of 1054'' played an important role in the history of the post-Classical world. In the Middle Ages, there were various attempts to reunify the Latin and Greek Churches, though none of them were long-lasting. 

Below, I have decided to quote Mark of Ephesus, the only Eastern bishop at the Council of Florence who objected to the union of the Catholic and Orthodox Churches. Traditionally, Catholics regarded him as a heretic for his theology. 

It is impossible to recall peace without dissolving the cause of the schism— the primacy of the Pope exalting himself equal to God." "The Latins are not only schismatics but heretics... we did not separate from them for any other reason other than the fact that they are heretics*1. 

-Mark of Ephesus 

*1-http://constans_wright.tripod.com/romans.html

A Brief Review of Two Works Concerning the Eucharist

 

The study of Medieval Christianity is one of my favorite topics and the doctrines Eucharist are some of the most important doctrines of Christianity to me. 

Recently, I finished one of the volumes in The Fathers of the Church: Medieval Continuations. Pictured above, this book includes two works by Medieval theologians who defended an early understanding of what we now call ''Transubstantiation.'' I must say that reading the works of Lanfranc of Canterbury and Guitmund of Aversa has led me to agree with the Catholic position. In fact, I now have more knowledge of Scripture, philosophy, and church history as they pertain to this doctrine than I have ever had. I encourage everyone reading this to also read this volume. Both Medieval theologians defend their views on the subject from their extensive knowledge of Scripture, philosophy, and church history. As far as I am aware. It is by far the best defense of Transubstantiation. Ultimately, I would consider it among the top ten books of theology that I've read. It is a true gem, even as it remains a highly underrated one. 

For those interested in why most Christians throughout church history believed that the Eucharist is the literal Body and Blood of Christ, I highly recommend this work. The two pieces contained in the volume extensively use Scripture to justify belief in Transubstantiation. But as with any topic in theology, the reader must be open to Biblical truth before considering the arguments presented. 

Thankfully, this volume has been published with extensive notes. The Catholic University of America continues to foster the careful study of the Middle Ages, for which every medievalist should be grateful. The notes further illuminate the modern reader in understanding the text itself. 

As a work of Medieval literature, it also can be a good source for those aspiring to learn more about the theological background of works such as Quest of the Holy Grail and Pearl. Indeed, one cannot understand the literature of the Middle Ages without understanding its theology. 

Books that I have Read from Early Modern/Renaissance Literature

Books of literature: Hamlet by William Shakespeare, Henry V by William Shakespeare, Richard III by William Shakespeare, Macebeth by William Shakespeare, Julies Caesar by William Shakespeare, Othello by William Shakespeare, King John by William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare, Richard II by William Shakespeare, The Divine Comedy by Dante. I have yet to finish A Midsummer Night's Dream and Romeo and Juliet. 

Books of Religion: On War Against the Turk by Martin Luther, The Ninety-Five Thesis by Martin Luther, The Douay Catechism, Cum ex Apostolatus Officio by Pope Pius V, The Westminster Standards. I have yet to finish The Book of Common Prayer. 

Although I'm more read in Medieval literature and history than that of the Early Modern and Renaissance periods, some knowledge of Early Modern literature is helpful for medievalists. As a big Shakespeare fan, I also believe that this era produced many great works of art. 

A Review of Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Literature by C. S. Lewis

 

For much of his life, C. S. Lewis was an English tutor at Oxford University. In 1954, he became a professor of Medieval and Renaissance literature at Cambridge University. Lewis wrote several works on Medieval literature during his time at both Oxford and Cambridge. Among these literary works were several essays that were published into one volume after his death. These essays formed the pages to Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Literature. 

There is much to learn about the Middle Ages from Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Literature. In this work, Lewis wrote about Geoffrey Chaucer, Dante Alighieri, Thomas Malory, and other important writers from the Middle Ages. Lewis's ability to connect these writers from the classical world (such as Aristotle, Virgil, etc), is in my view, one of his greatest strengths in this work. After all, as Lewis described in The Discarded Image, reading Virgil and Ovid is essential to understanding Medieval literature. 

Lewis knew that was much more to the Middle Ages than stories of chivalry, damsels in distress, and evil dragons. Certainly, Lewis understood the Middle Ages to be a very artistic time in history. Indeed, I found it interesting that Lewis alluded to the Middle Ages being more than knighthood and courtly love. Without question, he understood the literature of the time to be rooted in both philosophy and allegory. 

''But we must remember, firstly, how ignorant these early medievalists were of the true Middle Ages, and secondly how ill provided the Middle Ages are with the sort of poetry they wanted to read. They wanted chivalry, not scholastic philosophy; enchanters, not allegory. They wanted, quite simply, knights in armour, castles, and love stories (Lewis, p. 114, 1966). ''

Later in the work, Lewis comes to discuss the great writers of the Renaissance. Among them, he wrote especially of Edmund Spenser. Interestingly enough, Lewis understood Spener to be both puritanical and humanist. However, Lewis understood the meaning of these words to mean something different in England than they would come to be understood in America:

''We can hardly help calling them 'Puritanism' and 'humanism,' but neither word mean the same as it does in America. By purity the Elizabethan Puritan meant not chastity but 'pure' theology, and, still more, 'pure' church discipline. That is, he wanted an all-powerful Presbyterian Church, a church stronger than the state, set up in England, on the model of Calvin's church in Geneva. Knox in Scotland loudly demanded, and at least one English puritan hinted, that this should be done by armed revolution. Calvin, the great successful doctrinaire who had actually set up the 'new order', was the man who had dazzled them all. We must picture these Puritans as the very opposite of those who bear that name today: as young, fierce, progressive intellectuals, very fashionable and up-to-date. They were not teetotallers; bishops, not beer, were their special aversion. And humanist in this sense means simply 'classicists'-men very interested in Greek, but more interested in Latin, and far more interested in the 'correct' or 'classical' style of Latin than in what the Latin authors said. They wanted English drama to observe the (supposedly) Aristotelian 'unities', and some of them wanted English poets to abandon rhyme-a nasty, 'barbarous' or 'Gothic' affair-and use classical metres in English. There was no necessary enmity between Puritans and humanists. They were often the same people, and nearly always the same sort of people: the young men 'in the movement', the impatient progressives demanding a 'clean sweep.' And they were united by a common (and usually ignorant) hatred for everything medieval: for scholastic philosophy, medieval Latin, romance, fairies, and chivalry (Lewis, p. 122, 1966).'' 

In short, Lewis understood that the Puritans were hardly ignorant. In fact, they had much in common with the Renaissance humanist. The two groups both moved away from theological movements in the Middle Ages that both mutually felt had gone wayward. At the same time, Puritanism had less to do with holy living and more to do with the aggressive support of Calvinism. Humanism, likewise, was not about the rejection of Orthodox but about the humanists wishing to return to the poetic styles of their Greco-Roman ancestors. 

Lewis contributed several entire chapters of this work to the study of Edmund Spenser and his writings. According to Lewis, Spenser was not familiar with Middle English or much of Medieval literature (Lewis, p. 130, 1966). At the same time, he talks about Spenser's writings having a medieval character to them. Additionally, I find Lewis to have been partial to Medieval literature over Renaissance literature: ''The Elizabethans, even at their best, seem to lack that effortless good taste-one might say, that good breeding-which we nearly always find in the work of the Middle Ages. The Renaissance did not make men, in all senses, more civilized ( p. 129, ).'' Concerning this, much comes to my mind. As much as Lewis knew about English literature of the sixteenth century, I suspect that he was a true medievalist at heart. Throughout his writings, he deployed knighthood, allegory, and theology much as the literature of the Middle had been commonly known to do. no doubt, The Fairi Queen by Edmund Spenser had a tremendous influence upon Lewis (and likely upon his friends). In fact, he talked about how essentially boy was familiar with this work before 1914 ( p. 132). 

I do wonder how much influence the Fairie Queen had on C. S. Lewis. I find it interesting that he referred to this work as a fairy-tale (Lewis, p. 133, 1966). Considering its Arthurian nature (which Lewis seems to have admired), I wonder to what extent The Chronicles of Narnia were inspired by this work. Likewise, I wonder if the strong use of its allegory served as literary food for Lewis to model his Narnia books after. 

There is much that medievalists can learn from Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Literature. I encourage all to read The Discarded Image before reading this work. Likewise, I believe those whose interests are more theological than literary will also benefit from these pages. 

Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Literature is a worthy companion to The Discarded Image: An Introduction to Medieval and Renaissance Literature by C. S. Lewis. While between the two, I prefer The Discarded Image, I nevertheless, find both to be essential reads for any medievalist. To any aspiring scholar whose studies specialize in the Middle Ages, these works from Professor Lewis are among the best written on the literature from Medieval times. 

One of the great uses of literary history is to keep reminding us that while man is constantly acquiring new powers he is also constantly losing old ones. It behoves us therefore to be humble and do our best (Lewis, pp.134-135 1966).

Finally, while The Discarded Image is a great introduction to Medieval literature, in this latter work, the modern reader gets further acquainted with the literature of Medieval Times, such as the world of Chaucer and Malory. 

 Which things are an allegory: for these are the two covenants; the one from the mount Sinai, which gendereth to bondage, which is Agar. -Galatians 4: 24

The Dream of the Rood Paper

 

Joshua Dotson

Professor Johnson

English 460: Christian Literature

October 9, 2023

“The Role of the Dream of the Rood in Christian Literature’’

 

     All literature reflects the values and beliefs of the culture in which a given text was born. Society is influenced by the arts, and produces them at the same time. For example, one's writer's emphasis on social justice probably reflects one’s Left leanings. On the other hand, a book about the silent majority being unheard may reflect the author's pro-life stance. Indeed, it is impossible for any work of literature not to reflect the values of the one who composed it. Certainly, the faithful Christians’ own art reflects biblical Christianity. By default, written works that explore Biblical themes are called “Christian literature.” Often, these values must be distinctly Christian, such as belief in the Trinity, and not a vaguer idea, such as friendship or forgiveness. No doubt, this was especially true for the Anglo-Saxons, who harbored an infatuation with Old Testament literature. It was during the age of Old English literature that one of the greatest works of Christian literature, The Dream of the Rood, was composed. This important book of Medieval literature highlights Christian themes in a number of ways. In the words of Old English scholar R. M. Liuzza, “The Dream of the Rood tells the story of the Crucifixion of Christ from the point of view of the Cross, which appears to the narrator in a dream and recounts its experiences. Christ is presented as a heroic warrior, eagerly leaping to the cross to do battle with Death; the Cross is a loyal retainer who is painful and paradoxically forced to participate in his lord's execution (Liuzza, 173).” However, proof of its canon in Christian literature derives from its historical background, Mariology, the atonement of Christ, its understanding of salvation and redemption, and the final victory of the Son of God. 

     As with any other work of literature, understanding its place in history is essential to understanding the text---The Dream of the Rood is no exception to this rule of literary history. In fact, the culture behind the composition of this literary piece is crucial to understanding its purpose. According to historians Hazel Maskell and Dr. Abigail Wheatly, two historians of Anglo-Saxon England, “From about the year 450, Britain came under attack. Boatloads of warriors from what is now Germany and Denmark launched a series of devastating raids on the south and east coasts. The invaders were made up of three groups Angles, the Saxons and the Jutes. These fearsome warriors forced the tribes of native Britons to flee to the hills (Maskell and Wheatley, 6).” Furthermore, literary scholar Susan Wise Bauer has written, “Soon, the south and east part of Britain was completely occupied by the Angles and Saxons (Bauer, 14).” Likewise, Medieval historian Anita Baker notes, “(Pope) Gregory also sought to further the teachings of the church and to bring papal authority to Roman Catholics throughout Europe, no mean feat in a continent ruled by many different tribes and riven by conflict. He sent a mission of 40 monks under Saint Augustine to England in 597 to convert the pagan Anglo-Saxon tribes to Christianity. It was a success (Baker, 69)...” Interestingly enough, Ecclesiastical historian Kevin Madigan has rightly observed, “According to an anonymous Anglo-Saxon biography of Gregory written in ca. 710, Gregory's interest in the English originated before he became pope (Madigan, 62).” Of course, all of this was before the literary work was written but it does help the modern reader to understand the origins of the Anglo-Saxons and more about the people who this literature was written for. In truth, The Dream of the Rood demonstrates the transformation of the Anglo-Saxons away from paganism and their conversion to Christianity, as well as their endeavor to create Christian literature of their own. The prerequisite to writing any Christian literature, however, is for the author’s knowledge of theology: a fact which the poem exhibits in many places. Although few Saxons were pagan by the time the work was written, the poem's emphasis on the Cross of Christ evidences the reform of the people to Biblical thoughts: “That tree was triumphant and I tarnished by sin, begrimed with evil, I beheld Glory's trunk garnished with grandeur, gleaming in bliss, all plated with gold; precious gemstones had gloriously graced the Lord God's tree. Yet I could see signs of ancient strife: beneath that gold it had begun bleeding on the right side. I was bereft with sorrows; that splendid sight made me afraid. I beheld the sign rapidly changing clothes with colors. Now it was covered by moisture, drenched with steaming blood, now decked in treasure (34.13-22).”

     The mother of Christ is at the heart of The Dream of the Rood. Although the Virgin Mary is rarely mentioned in the small Anglo-Saxon poem, her importance is nothing short of essential to interpreting the text. The translation of the work from The Norton Anthology of English Literature: The Middle Ages reads, “So the Lord of glory, guardian of Heaven, exalted me then over all forest-trees, as Almighty God before all humankind exalted over all the race of women. His own mother, Mary herself (90-94).” For certain, the Mother of Christ was as important to the Anglo-Saxons as she was to all Catholic Christians throughout Medieval Europe. The poem, nevertheless, understood her as providentially involved in God's plan to give birth to a Savior even before the foundations of the world. As one article notes, “But this suggestion shows a curious understanding of mediaeval Christianity, where the choice of Mary would be seen, not in modern terms as 'random' or accidental,' but as part of God’s pre-ordained plan, Mary having been chosen for her destiny before the foundation of the world to fulfill the prophecies of the Old Testament*1.” Certainly, the poem does not have to exhaust mentioning her name to prove her essentiality within its short narrative. In paying her homage and honoring her within the context of Christ, this Anglo-Saxon work reveals why the medievals loved the Mother of God so much: they saw her as blessed (Luke 1:42) and valued her because of her place in salvific history in giving birth to Christ. While The Dream of the Rood does not take Mariology to the explicit veneration for her that would later arise within High and Late Medieval literature, the Anglo-Saxon poem does recall her importance within the Christian tradition. 

     The ''Rood'' that The Dream of the Rood is referring to, is the tree that Christ died upon. According to Holy Scripture, God didn't want the world to perish, so He sent His Son for humanity (John 3: 16, 1 John 2: 2). Of all the plots within the Old English narrative, Christ saving the world may exist as the most significant. In saving mankind from sin, however, Christ was also preparing the saints for the world to come: “Now I command you, my man so dear, to tell others the events you have seen; find words to tell it was the tree of glory Almighty God suffered upon for mankind's so many sins and for that ancient offense of Adam. There, he tasted death; yet the redeemer arose with his great might to help mankind. Then he rose to Heaven. He will come again to this middle-earth to seek out mankind on Judgement Day, the Redeemer himself, God Almighty and his angels with him, so that he will judge, He who has power of the Judgement, all humanity as to the merits each has brought about in this brief life (36.95-109).” Indeed, manifesting these beautiful words, Christ has saved his people, and is purifying them for the final judgment. Likewise, the salvation described in The Dream of the Rood is holistically connected to Christ's sufferings and the redemption of creation. 

     Without referring to the atonement of Christ, the Christian heritage of The Dream of the Rood would be far inferior. The poem directly addresses Christ's inflictions as He suffers for the sins of the world, “On that mountain I have endured many cruel happenings. I saw the God of hosts direly stretched out. Shades of darkness had clouded over the corpse of the Lord, the shining radiance; shadows went forth dark under clouds. All creation wept, mourning the king's fall: Christ was on the cross (35.50-56).” Here, the poem refers to the many sufferings of Jesus Christ. Creation turns dark as the Son of God persists through His incarnation. Yet, through this darkness, Christ achieved the impossible, the redemption of the world through His divine and human atonement. Later, following His Resurrection, the poem is clear about what Christ accomplished, “I shall dwell in glory, together with the saints share in their delights. May the Lord be my friend, who on earth long ago on the gallows-tree suffered agony for the sins of men; he redeemed us and gave us life, a home in Heaven. Hope was made new and blossomed with bliss to those burning in fire (37.144-149).” Indeed, it took the sacrifice of Christ not only to save humanity, but to redeem the world from the stain of sin and destruction. In this regard, the old Anglo-Saxon poem reflects the Christus Victor view of the atonement which “... is the element of the atoning work of Christ that emphasizes the triumph of Christ over the evil powers of the world, through which he rescues his people and establishes a new relationship between God and the world*2.” In other words, one of the most ancient views of the atonement asserts that Christ's death on the cross was the beginning of God's restoration of the world unto Himself. Quite clearly, The Dream of the Rood exemplifies this view throughout its text as the author of this piece dreamed of the new Creation to come. 

     The climax of The Dream of the Rood concerns Christ's final advent to judge the world and bring justice to all as well as perfection to the old creation. Written at the end of the work, in many ways, the return of Christ is perhaps one of the most epic aspects of the work: “The son was victorious in venturing forth, mighty and triumphant when he returned with many, a company of souls to the Kingdom of God, the Almighty Ruler, to the joy of angels, and all those holy ones come to Heaven before. to live in glory, when their Lord returned, the Eternal King to His own country (37.150-155).” When one analyzes this aspect of the poem, the reader will see all the more the beauty of this work. For example, “The son was victorious in venturing forth...(37.150),” is an example of alliteration with the use of “v” in both words which adds to the rhythm of the work and keeps the reader focused on the glory of Christ's eventual coming, Secondly, however, by invoking “...the Almighty ruler (37.150),” the literary piece demonstrates a high reverence for God Himself. With references to Christ being “victorious,” “triumphant,” and to God as “the Almighty ruler” and “Eternal King”, the writer of The Dream of the Rood reminds those who study its composition of the good news that all Christians can wait for---the return of Christ and the restoration of the world under the Lord King of Heaven and Earth. 

      Works of Christian literature always point in some way to the redemption that Christ has done and is still doing to the world. This is certainly true for The Dream of the Rood. Though the Anglo-Saxons had not always been Christians, this literary piece reveals that once they embraced Christianity, there was no going back for them. The theme of God as King stayed especially important to them as they saw Christ as superseding the gods of old. In contrast to paganism, however, Christianity turned men away from violence and to the hope of a loving Savior. Throughout Europe, paganism had been often associated with child sacrifice. For Christians of the Medieval era, though, their sacrifice was the Body and Blood of Christ in the Eucharist. Furthermore, while paganism thrived among some of the Anglo-Saxons until the eleventh century, the poem does indicate the gradual importance of Christianity to the British people. Indeed, in the words of Anglo-Saxon scholars Lloyd and Jennifer Laing, “The structure of English Christianity received the official stamp of approval by the Council of Hertford in 672, while at Hatfield in 679 a profession of allegiance to Roman orthodoxy was made formally (Lloyd, Laing, 98).” All of this echoes in the poem. Christianity was changing England forever. Finally, while The Dream of the Rood does not signal a genuine transformation of every person in England to Christianity, it does indicate a general shift in the mood of the people and more importantly, the presence of the church in Medieval lives. 

     In conclusion, the heritage of American and British Christian literature has its origins long before J. R. R. Tolkien, an Anglo-Saxon scholar, and C. S. Lewis, a Renaissance scholar. Indeed, both of these great twentieth-century writers admired the Medieval world and wrote frequently about it. They drew from Medieval literature for their own works of Christian fiction, just as many contemporary Christians draw from Tolkien and Lewis. One of the greatest ways to teach anyone about Christian theology is through literature. Oftentimes, modern readers are acquainted with great Christian classics, such as Confessions or The Pilgrim's Progress. Sadly, however, far fewer believers are aware of the great Christian literature written in Old English by the Anglo-Saxons. Indeed, long before John Wycliffe or William Tyndale, parts of the Bible had already been translated into English by the Anglo-Saxons though Bible translations into English became significantly rare after the Norman conquest of England in the eleventh century. There is much to admire about Augustine, Bunyan, Tolkien, and Lewis, but the boundaries of Christian literature extended far beyond their works. Indeed, every Christian ought to read The Dream of the Rood. It is an underrated classic within the Old English canon of Christian literature. 

                                                          Works Cited: 

Baker, Anita. The Medieval World: The Illustrated History of the Middle Ages. (2018). Sevenoaks. 

Bauer, Susan. Wise. The Story of the World History for the Classical Child Volume 2: The Middle Ages From The Fall of Rome to the Rise of the Renaissance. (2003). Well-Trained Mind Press. 

Greenblatt, Stephen. The Norton Anthology of English Literature: The Middle Ages (tenth edition). (2018). W. W. Norton & Company. 

Old English Poetry: An Anthology. R. M. Liuzza. (2014). 

Madigan, Kevin. Medieval Christianity: A New History. (2015). Yale University Press. 

Maskell, Hazel. and Wheatley, Abigail. (2012). Usborne. 

 

Notes:

*-administrator,+flor12art04 (4).pdf

*2-https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/essay/christus-victor/

Henry V Paper

“The Heroism and Chivalry of Henry V Proven in William Shakespeare’s Notable Play of the Same Name.’’

     Joshua Dotson

     Professor Rice

     English 333: Shakespeare

     October 6, 2023

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     Henry V by William Shakespeare is among his most respected historical plays. The king's speech before the battle of Agincourt, “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers (Shakespeare, 4.3.62),” is among one of the most cited speeches in military history. The work, split into five acts, continues the story of Prince Hal in Henry IV Parts One and Two. Now, though, Hal, also known as Henry V, is nobler than ever. As the Hundred Years’ War loomed between France and England, the king was convinced by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Ely that he should lead an army to conquer France. When chance bid him an opportunity to invade this southern kingdom, he led England's forces against the mightier and more pompous French army. Vastly outnumbered at Agincourt, Henry stirred his men to loyalty with Shakespeare's beloved speech. Once the battle began, the king led the English to one of the most famous Medieval victories. Henry V, a true protagonist of Shakespeare's play, demonstrates his strong character in many ways. The heroism and chivalry of Henry V are proven by his wisdom concerning justice, his siege of Harfleur, consistent bravery at Agincourt, personal Christian virtues, persistence to Calais, and his courtship of Princess Katherine. 

          Henry V's portrayal of The Hundred Years' War begins almost immediately at proving the king's chivalry. As an English knight and foot soldier in France, he led his kingdom's armies in siege against the French city of Harfleur. His army was not gathered from professional knights—it rose mostly from more middle-class fighters which is why Medieval historian Anne Curry wrote in her history of the Hundred Years’ War of Henry’s forces, “Even more notable were the many esquires and yeoman who indented in person with a handful of archers (Curry, 58).’’ Additionally, concerning the historical background to Shakespeare’s play, Medieval historian Christopher Almand notes, “The indentures of 1415 also underline Henry’s determination to capture Harfleur, whatever the effort might take (Almand, 211).’’ Eventually triumphant over the city that his men sieged, the king spoke to the surrendered governor as follows, “How yet resolve the governor of the town? This is the latest parle that we will admit. Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves Or, like to men proud of destruction, Defy us to our worst. For, as I am a soldier, A name that in my thoughts becomes me best, I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur Till in her ashes she lie buried (Shakespeare,3.3..1-9).” After the governor of the city replies obediently to the king's commands, Henry quickly affirms, “Open your gates (Shakespeare, 3.3.51),” without hesitation. Before his siege, the king had received golf balls from the Dauphin of France. Now, however, the king upholds the honor of his dominion and beloved country in having marched into France for the beginning of a four-year war. While Henry V successfully takes Harfleur, nevertheless, his most memorable acts of courage will be demonstrated at a place called “Agincourt.” 

          While being heroic in several notable battles against the French prior, Henry's courage and bravery, along with his ability to command an English army, were all tested near the French castle known as “Agincourt.” During the battle that commenced, Henry would lead his army, though outnumbered five to one, to victory over the arrogant French cavalry. Protected behind a wall of wooden stakes, the English forces made extensive use of the successful longbow that had blessed their courage at the Battle of Crecy in 1346---during which, they were able to weaken the French lines from afar. Likewise, the new English army at Agincourt used this tactic again to their advantage against a much larger and less-worn opposing force. But the English victory at Agincourt in Shakespeare's play must be attributed to more than the longbow. Having marched for miles and many days in the rain, Henry inspired energy within his tired, English soldiers with his powerful and iconic words, ''We few, we happy few, we band of brothers (Shakespeare, 4.3.62).'' Indeed, Henry's famous speech to his men before the famous battle resonated so successfully because he connected with his troops. In saying “We band of brothers (Shakespeare, 4.3.62),” the king understood himself to be one of his men. On the other hand, had the king bragged of his divine right to rule or had he displayed pride about his birth, his men would have been more hesitant to side with him on the battlefield, but Henry did none of those things. Rather, he gathered all the English troops initially by invoking the names of the lands that they lorded, “Gloucester, Salisbury...(Shakespeare, 4.3.56).” Secondly, he previously united them under his crown by invoking a sense of English pride as they began a siege of Harfleur before coming to Agincourt “Cry ‘God for Harry, England, and Saint George!’ ” By referring to England's patron saint, Saint George, Shakespeare evidences that the king was able to muster all of them to his coming cause. Interestingly enough, the king's heroism at Agincourt reflects a different aspect of his character; that is, his humility drove his bravery. The once Prince Hal of Henry IV is no longer considering solely himself. Indeed, he takes the lives and potential deaths of all his men into serious consideration as they face hell in the muddy rain. Had the king stood aside and not fought alongside his men, and had he thought himself too worthy to endure their many trials, the results of the battle would have been quite different. Even after Agincourt, however, his persistence to conquer remained, despite an ongoing war that would aid him in his march of Calais. His perseverance ultimately stemmed from his Christian character. 

     The king's Christian virtues are clearly manifested throughout the entirety of Henry V. The English monarch was, in many ways, a product of the thought of his time---a reality that Shakespeare would have known. Concerning Medieval Christianity, Ecclesiastical Historian Kevin Madigan wrote, “The church not only formed the institutional framework within which one lived but one’s life (Madigan, xviii).’’ Likewise, the same church that influenced the masses, also affected the life of King Henry the Fifth as evidenced by when he invoked God's aid before the battle of Agincourt “…You know your places. God be with all… (Shakespeare, 4.3.80).” However, Henry's commitment to the Christian faith is deeper than his insistence on God's help when pressed into dire situations. To him, Christianity is reflected in chivalrous behavior towards all, including his commitment to justice. When Bardolph is punished for desertion, the king speaks as follows, “We should have all such offenders so cut off, and we give express charge that in our marches through the country there be nothing compelled from the villages... (Shakespeare, 3.3.96-98).” While Bardolph's execution may seem harsh to many today, for a world in which capital punishment is controversial, this was a typical medieval sentence for such crimes. The deserted soldier was not the only person to face such justice from the king. For instance, the king also called for the execution of many French prisoners. As English literature scholar John Sutherland notes, “Returning to the big picture, how is it that there remain living this huge number of captives? Fifteen hundred is the size of a small army. These French prisoners surely did not surrender after Henry gave his ‘kill them all’ command.’’ No, indeed, whether it be his own men breaking the laws of England or his enemies, guarding prisoners in a war march would have been detrimental to the English army and slowed their pace in the conflict. Furthermore, Henry’s holding Bardolph accountable reflects his serious oath to the office of king: to ensure the survival of justice in an unjust world. Certainly, all of these values flow from the monarch’s Christianity, “...for he beareth not the sword in vain... (King James Bible, 1611, Romans 13: 4).” No doubt, at the heart of Henry's chivalry was his belief in God and the Catholic faith which he endorsed. At the end of Act Four during which the English have captured the city of Calais from the French, Henry reflects upon his deep Catholic faith, “Do we all holy rites. Let there be sung Non nobis and Te Deum, the dead with charity enclosed in clay, And then to Calais, and to England then, Where ne'er from France arrived more happy men (Shakespeare, 4.8.115-119).”

    Though less often performed in the play, Henry V's remarkable arrival at the city of Calais is implied. As the king says to Montjoy, the royal messenger of France, “Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back, And tell thy king I do not seek him no But could be willing to march on to Calais...(Shakespeare, 3.3.126-128).” Interestingly enough, Shakespeare's work does not show that Henry went back to England to celebrate his victory after Agincourt first, however. Yet as he returned to France, Henry pressed onto Calais with his persistence to win the war. Perhaps Henry's greatest act of valor here, nevertheless, was not in his recent victories over the French, but rather his patience, which was willing to extend until all of France was his to rule. By the time the English army had arrived at Calais, they had fought for roughly four years against the French. Imagine had Henry withdrawn after his satisfactory victory at Agincourt, and simply compromised with the French! Both history and the play would have ended very differently, indeed. Imagine, also, the admiration Shakespeare had for King Henry as evidenced so often throughout this early modern work.
     While Agincourt was a noble victory in the field of battle, it did not secure the English authority over France. No, indeed, Henry expected a long conflict at Calais and beyond, and then another long march onto Paris to take Princess Katherine as his wife---a prize that would also secure him of all of France. His meeting with Princess Katherine would take place simultaneously with the 1420 Treaty of Troyes, signed by King Charles VI, Katherine's father. The whole affair of peace is summarized by military historian Edouard Perroy, “Whereas the Treaty of Calais had allayed the feudal quarrel by the creation of an Aquitaine outside of French control, the Treaty of Troyes settled the dynastic conflict by making Henry V heir to the throne of France (Perroy, 243).’’

     While Henry's accomplishments on the battlefield are memorable and heroic, his courtship of Princess Katherine also reflects his chivalrous personality. When speaking to her, Prince ''Harry'' exercises a great sense of nobility and care for her person. Indeed, the king was not simply interested in wedding her, but desired her affection mutually. Indeed, the king, upon conquest of France, could have easily demanded the fealty of all the French, including the princess herself. However, he desires more. Subsequently, Henry rushes to see Katherine's capacity to love him, longing for their potential happiness. His words to the princess reflect his sweet and humble disposition, “If thou canst love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sunburning, that never looks in his glass for love of anything he sees there, let thine eye by thine cook. I speak to thee plan solider. If thou canst love me for this, take me. (Shakespeare, 5.2.142-146).” Perhaps surprisingly, his courtship of the French damsel reveals his vulnerability, a vulnerability that she could consequently choose to reject. When he says, “By mine honor, in true English, I love thee, Kate. By which honor I dare not swear thou lovest me, yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor and untempering effect my visage (Shakespeare, 5.2.208-212).” Likewise, Harry's earnest plea that she learn to love him, demonstrates his lack of selfish motives: “Put off your maiden blushes, avouch the thoughts of your heart...(Shakespeare, 5.2.221-222).” Henry's chivalry towards Katherine is also exemplified when he woos her in a private room, where only a lady in waiting accompanies her. His gentleness in speech and genuine concern for her happiness also reveal his sense of honor. Finally, his character is one worthy of emulation for the fact that he behaves honorably, even when not discharged to war, or when in front of hundreds to see his good deeds. 

     He also rightly believed that a healthy marriage is not tyrannical, “You have witchcraft in your lips. There is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of a French council, and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs (Shakespeare, 5.2.251-260).” In the end, Henry feels persuaded by Katherine, and longs for her council more than that of his fellow lords. To him, a right marriage sees both husband and wife in service to one another. Henry's chivalry towards Katherine is also exemplified while he woos her in a private room where only a lady in waiting stands beside her. His gentleness in his speech and his genuine concern for her happiness also displays his sense of honor. Finally, his character is one of esteem by the fact that he behaves honorably even when not discharged to war or when in front of hundreds to see his good deeds. 

     Much more could be said about the character of Henry V in Shakespeare's immortal, early-modern play based on the historical events of the late Medieval world. However, let all further arguments concerning claims of Henry's alleged lack of chivalry be put to rest. Shakespeare portrayed the English king as heroically as did Medieval literature concerning King Arthur. As Medieval Studies Scholar, Norman F. Cantor has said, “Despite Henry V’s (1387-1422) premature death at the age of 35 after have reigned for only nine years, his strong personality and military successes in France made him one of the beloved kings of medieval England (Cantor, 219).’’ For certain, it is no surprise that this work has been also beloved by British people ever since. 

     In conclusion, the play Henry V will forever be remembered as one of Shakespeare's greatest literary pieces, especially in terms of the playwright’s works concerning historical wars. Of all of Shakespeare's plays on the English monarchs, Henry V is arguably his most inspiring. Indeed, the 1944 film adaption of Henry V starring Lawrence Olivier as the English king, which boasts impressively painted backgrounds reminiscent of Medieval and Renaissance Art, inspired many British men to fight for their country in the Second World War. Likewise, the later 1989 screen adaptation of Kenneth Branagh immortalized the king's speech before the Battle of Agincourt and demonstrated the cruelty of war that the earlier film had not evidenced. Whatever chivalry had declined in England between the reigns of Richard II and Henry IV, returned under him. While Henry's character has been criticized in recent years by some historians for his supposed violence, his acts in the war were no worse than those of his time. Indeed, Shakespeare understood him as the ideal English hero and Christian king. Lastly, the chivalry idealized in Henry V remains an inspiration for readers five hundred years after the play was composed.

                                                            

 

 

 

 

 

                                                        





                                                                Works Cited:
King James Bible. (1611). Cambridge University Press.

Almond, Christopher. Henry V. (1992). The University of California Press Berkeley and Los Angeles.

Cantor, Norman. F. The Encyclopedia of The Middle Ages. (1999). Viking.

Curry, Anne. The Hundred Years’ War: 1337-1453. (2002). Osprey Publishing Ltd.

Madigan, Kevin. Medieval Christianity: A New History. (2015). Yale University Press.

Shakespeare, William. No Fear Shakespeare: Henry V. (2004). SparkNotes Publishing. 

Sutherland, John. and Watts, Cedric. Henry V, War Criminal? & Other Shakespeare Puzzles. (2000). Oxford University Press.

Perroy, Edouard. The Hundred Years War.