A threesome with his wife and mother-in-law: the scandalous story of why one Anglo-Saxon king skipped his coronation

As legend would have it, the young king left his own coronation feast in January 956 to engage in sexual acts with two women: his wife, Ælfgifu, and his mother-in-law, Æthelgifu.

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But is there any truth to the scandalous claim? Or is the story just an example of politically motivated Anglo-Saxon propaganda?

It’s more likely to be the latter, historian Katherine Weikert revealed on the HistoryExtra podcast. “It is a great story,” she admits. “We can't just pretend it is not there, can we?”

Where did the story of Eadwig’s threesome come from?

Eadwig inherited the throne from his uncle King Eadred, who had succeeded Eadwig’s father, Edmund. With a direct claim to the throne, the succession in 955 was relatively smooth, and Eadwig’s coronation feast would have been a crucial moment to assert his new authority.

“This is a part of the business of being king – to demonstrate your kingliness,” explains Weikert. “After you go through this great sacred ceremony, you have this great feast.” It would have been a moment of demonstrating one’s kingship.

This alone makes the idea that Eadwig would have absconded from such an important event seem highly unlikely. What’s more, the story first appears more than 40 years after the alleged event- in an account that paints the young king in a deeply unflattering light.
“As with everything in history, it really depends on who you believe, doesn't it?” Weikert says.

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The account in question can be found in a hagiography dating to approximately 1000, about the religious figure Abbot Dunstan, a powerful cleric and figure deeply involved in the tale. It describes Eadwig leaving the feast and being discovered “wallowing like pigs in the mud” with two women. His crown was supposedly cast aside on the floor – a potent symbol of his neglect of royal duty. Abbot Dunstan then forcefully drags Eadwig back to the hall, re-crowning him, and restoring order.

But was this really a tale of royal misconduct – or a deliberately crafted character assassination?

Dunstan, who later became Archbishop of Canterbury, was a staunch supporter of Eadwig’s rival faction. This gives him a possible motivation for him to be involved in tarnishing the reputation of Eadwig and his wife and mother in-law (both women being powerful figures in the court in their own right).

The fact that the story of the coronation scandal first appears in Dunstan’s own hagiography – a highly biased account designed to paint him as a moral saviour – could cast doubt on its accuracy. “If you want to talk about bias in your sources, obviously there’s a very vested interest in making Dunstan look really good in this,” Weikart says.

What happened to Eadwig?

Following the annulment, Eadwig’s rule weakened, and by 957, his kingdom was divided, with his younger brother Edgar assuming control of the north. Two years later in 959, Eadwig died at just 19 years old, under somewhat mysterious circumstances.

So, did Eadwig really abandon his coronation feast for a threesome? Almost certainly not. But as Weikert notes, it’s a potent reminder of the power of salacious propaganda and the kind of political infighting that dogged the 10th century.

Katherine Weikert was speaking to David Musgrove on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.