By 930 AD, the initial “Age of Settlement” had ended, and the true test began: the “Age of Survival“, a period defined by the need for order, domestic ingenuity, and the power of the spoken word.

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Law on the edge of the world

As Iceland’s population swelled, the need for order became paramount. Dan’s journey begins at Þingvellir, the breathtaking Mid-Atlantic rift where the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates pull apart at a rate of 2.5cm every year. 

It was atop this literal scar in the earth that the Vikings established the Althing, the world’s oldest surviving national parliament. In 930AD, in a land of extremes without a king, these pioneers chose to “thrash out” a legal code peacefully, proving that survival was as much about communal structure as it was about physical grit.  While much of Europe was governed by the whim of monarchs, the Icelanders were practicing a raw, tectonic form of democracy.

Production shot at at Þingvellir, the site of the Viking Althing.

Image Credit: History Hit

The Sagas: storytelling as a survival strategy

Yet, law alone couldn’t get a family through a brutal Arctic winter. Survival required a social fabric to match the stockpiled grain: stories. From supernatural tales of witches and ghosts to the legendary Icelandic Sagas, these narratives – later collated by figures like the 13th-century scholar Snorri Sturluson – became the island’s cultural glue. 

These epic tales cover everything from bloody revenge to the crushing weight of loneliness, providing hope, entertainment, and a moral and historical anchor for a people on the fringe of the known world. Today, these sagas remain the blueprint for modern fantasy, inspiring everything from J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle-earth to the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Original book making up part of the Icelandic Sagas

Image Credit: History Hit

Viking “vanity”?

Whilst we often imagine the Vikings as “stinky, uncontrolled louts,” the archaeological record tells a different story. In reality, the Norse were far more meticulous about their appearance than the Christian chroniclers they despoiled gave them credit for.

Dan explores one of the most commonly found Viking-age artefacts: the bone comb. Far from being dishevelled, Viking men were famously well-groomed. The 12th-century English chronicler John of Wallingford noted that the Vikings caused “much trouble to the natives” of England because they combed their hair daily, bathed every Saturday, and changed their garments often. 

Dan Snow with a replica of a Viking bone comb (replica made from plastic)

Image Credit: History Hit

“The reputation for being filthy likely comes from their enemies – Christian priests,” Dan explains, whose monasteries the Vikings despoiled. “They painted the Vikings as dishevelled on the outside to reflect an ‘evil, pagan soul’ within.” 

In Iceland, this cleanliness was bolstered by the island’s geology; the Vikings harnessed natural hot springs for bathing and cleaning clothes – a tradition Dan experiences firsthand with a dip in a remote volcanic spring.

Production shot of Dan Snow at an Icelandic thermal stream

Image Credit: History Hit

The reality of violence

While the Sagas are filled with blood feuds, Dan investigates whether the Icelandic Vikings were actually more peaceful than their European neighbours. Speaking with Dr Joe Wallace Walser III at the Museum of Iceland, Dan handles a genuine Viking skull and notes a surprising lack of swords.

“We see more axe heads and spears,” Joe explains. “Axes were multi-functional tools for farmers and fishermen.” The evidence suggests that most settlers were looking for opportunity rather than a constant battle.

Large-scale warfare is rare in the early Icelandic record; instead, we see a life of hard work and interpersonal disputes settled at the Althing. The Sagas’ massive battles were likely “colourful” exaggerations or memories of a more violent life left behind in Scandinavia.

Dan Snow speaks to Dr Joe Wallace Walser III at the Museum of Iceland and sees a real Viking skull

Image Credit: History Hit

The invisible backbone: the role of women

Dan speaks to historian Dr Kate Lister to uncover the vital, often overlooked role of women. “Without the women, there is no Viking Age at all,” Kate notes. As men spent long periods away, women were the primary keepers of the homestead, with the Sagas even describing powerful matriarchs leading settlement charges from the Hebrides to Iceland. 

While their roles were primarily domestic – weaving, sewing, cooking and managing the homestead – they were the ultimate managers of the Viking economy and the educators of the next generation.

A genetic mystery

Research into early Icelandic DNA has revealed a surprising truth: up to half of the female (mitochondrial) DNA in the earliest settlements came from the British Isles. This suggests that as the Norse travelled toward Iceland, they “picked up” women from the UK. Whether these unions were consensual or the result of Viking slavery or their use of a system of concubinage remains one of history’s “unknowable questions,” says Kate, though evidence suggests a complex mix of both.

Dan has a go at combing wool as the Viking women would have done, with Viking expert expert Bjarnheidur Jóhannsdóttir

Image Credit: History Hit

The endless labour of survival

To understand the sheer scale of the work performed by women, Dan visits a replica longhouse 90km from Reykjavik. He speaks to expert Bjarnheidur Jóhannsdóttir, who explains how survival in the harsh environment meant no one was ever idle. A staggering amount of work was required, which also helped them to stay warm. Even during the dark winters, often while reciting the Sagas, hands were busy whittling or braiding in the low light.

Combing wool was a massive, time-consuming process. Bjarnheidur explains that a single 80-square-metre sail for a longship could take up to three years to weave, making it as expensive as the ship itself. The sail – the very symbol of Viking expansion – was a testament to the patient, persistent labour of the women left behind.

Dr Kate Lister and Dan Snow in Iceland with Laura and Annie from History Hit’s production team

As women combed wool and men braved the North Atlantic, they shared the stories that would eventually include the Saga of Erik the Red and the Vinland Sagas. At the Árni Magnússon Institute, Dan and curator Gisli Sigurðsson discuss this adventurous dynasty, including Leif Erikson, the first European to set foot in North America.

The recording of these stories was the beginning of our global fascination with Viking culture. From sophisticated grooming to the indomitable strength of the women who ran their world, the story of Icelandic survival is a testament to human resilience.

Watch Icelandic Vikings: Survival now, or catch-up with Episode 1, Icelandic Vikings: Arrival

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In History Hit’s new two-part documentary, Icelandic Vikings, Dan Snow journeys across this mythical terrain to uncover the secrets of the first settlers. From visiting a replica turf home to the ingenious use of geothermal springs to bake ‘volcano bread’, in episode 1, Icelandic Vikings: Arrival, Dan uncovers how a band of defiant explorers tamed one of the most remote islands on Earth.

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When did the Vikings truly arrive?

The term ‘Viking’ stems from the Old Norse víkingr (Vigh-king) – meaning pirate, raider. They came from Scandinavia and quickly spread across the world. During the 9th and 10th centuries, an estimated 60,000 vikings made Iceland their home. 

For decades, historians relied on traditional sagas to date the settlement of Iceland to the late 9th century. However, at the Settlement Exhibition museum in Reykjavík, Dan Snow talks to guide Vala Gardarsdóttir and sees evidence that is rewriting history. By analysing tephra (layers of volcanic ash from known eruptions that act as a ‘geological clock’) archaeologists have identified Norse structures dating back as far as 800 or 830 AD.

This discovery, including a boundary wall unearthed during the construction of an underground parking lot in 2001, suggests that permanent Norse settlements were established nearly 70 years earlier than previously thought, revealing that the roots of Icelandic culture run far deeper than the sagas suggest.

Dan Snow visits the Settlement Exhibition museum in Reykjavík where he talks to guide Vala Gardarsdóttir

Image Credit: History Hit

Life inside a turf house

In the documentary, Dan travels to the Dalasýsla region to explore a meticulously reconstructed Viking home, where he meets Bjarnheidur Jóhannsdóttir to uncover the realities of Norse domestic life in this landscape.

These weren’t drafty wooden huts; they were sophisticated turf houses. With walls over a metre thick, constructed from tightly packed roots and turf, these homes were marvels of thermal insulation. Inside, around 15 people lived together in a single longhouse, centred around a communal hearth that served as a primary sources of heat, light, and social connection.

Bjarnheidur explains how while the ‘Master of the House’ was often absent for months on raiding or trading expeditions, the women ruled the domestic sphere. The ‘lady of the house’ held the keys to the locked pantry – the most vital room in the home, where winter provisions were guarded to ensure the family’s survival in winter.

Before the Vikings, 40% of Iceland was covered in birch forests. Within a century, the voracious need for fuel and grazing land decimated these woodlands, forcing the settlers to adapt by using turf as their primary building material.

Dan Snow and Bjarnheidur Jóhannsdóttir in a replica Viking turf house, in the Dalasýsla region of Iceland.

Image Credit: History Hit

Mastering the North Atlantic

The Vikings were, first and foremost, the greatest mariners of their age. Viking ships were clinker-built, featuring overlapping hull planks that made them light, flexible, yet incredibly strong. Vikings relied on ingenious natural markers for navigation, including solar navigation and by observing the flight of birds, specifically ravens; if the bird flew high and returned to the ship, land was far away. If it disappeared toward the horizon, the crew knew they were nearing an island and followed its lead.

To understand how they navigated the treacherous waters of the North Atlantic, Dan takes to the sea off the coast of Reykjavík for some fishing.

Dan has some success at fishing in the North Atlantic!

Image Credit: History Hit

The Book of Settlements

For Icelanders, history is far more than a chronology of dates – it is a living record of ancestral rights. Dan visits the Árni Magnússon Institute to see a copy of one of the most sacred documents in Icelandic culture: the Landnámabók, or ‘Book of Settlements’.

This extraordinary document serves as a bridge between the medieval and modern worlds. It places Iceland within the wider context of early European history, referencing the Venerable Bede (the ‘father of English history’) and noting with seafaring precision that Iceland lay exactly six days’ sailing north of Britain.

More than just a chronicle, this was a massive folklore project designed to codify the nation’s origin story. It meticulously records the names of the original pioneers and the precise boundaries of their claims. As expert Gísli Sigurðsson explains, the text is so geographically accurate that it still defines the borders of many modern-day farms. It is truly a ‘map of a nation’s soul’, securing the land through the epic stories of those who first stepped onto its black sand beaches.

Dan speaks to Gísli Sigurðsson at the Árni Magnússon Institute to see the Landnámabók – the ‘Book of Settlements’ – with production crew.

Image Credit: History Hit

A taste of the settlement age

Life in the North Atlantic wasn’t just about survival; it was also about flavour. In the wild Westfjords, Dan forages for crowberries and helps bake traditional geothermal rye bread. By burying the dough in a pipe in the bubbling hot springs of a volcanic area, the Vikings learnt to harness the island’s subterranean energy to create a delicious, dense cake-like loaf of bread – a culinary tradition that continues in Iceland to this day.

Dan also encounters the Icelandic horse. Brought over on longships by the original 9th century settlers, this unique breed has remained genetically isolate for over a thousand years. Its legendary strength and steady ‘fifth gait’ provided the only reliable way for the first Vikings to traverse the treacherous, rugged, roadless interior.

Dan rides an Icelandic horse

Image Credit: History Hit

Paradise or Valhalla?

With its abundance of walrus ivory, rivers teeming with salmon, and the miraculous gift of geothermal heat, Iceland must have seemed like a paradise to the first settlers. Yet did this ‘Land of Fire and Ice’ truly become an earthly Valhalla, or did the human hunger for power and resources lead to its eventual ruin?

While the first episode of Icelandic Vikings: Arrival celebrates the triumph of human spirit and exploration, the story doesn’t end there. Join Dan Snow for Episode Two (releasing 8 January 2026), as he ventures into the ‘Age of Survival’. From the breathtaking plains of Þingvellir – home to the world’s oldest parliament – to the jagged lava fields of the interior, Dan uncovers the bloody, complex truths hidden within the legendary Icelandic Sagas.

Watch Icelandic Vikings: Arrival now on History Hit (with thanks to Visit Iceland).

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In History Hit’s new documentary, The Dead of Winter: Medieval Ghost Stories, Eleanor draws on medieval chronicles, religious monuments, and Icelandic sagas to uncover why the dead were believed to walk again. By investigating the supernatural potency of the winter solstice, she reveals how these haunting tales reflect deep-seated anxieties over sin, salvation, and the bonds of medieval community that still echo across the centuries.

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Purgatory and the returning dead

As the days shorten and the nights stretch toward the winter solstice, the shadowed weeks of Advent transform into a journey into the heart of darkness. In the medieval world, it was believed that the veil between the living and the dead reached its thinnest, allowing spirits to walk openly among the living. As families huddled around the hearth to stave off the biting cold and the darkness, ghost stories shared in the flickering firelight reached the height of their haunting potential.

Countless ghost stories survive from this era because, for the medieval mind, death was a transition rather than an end.  “For medieval people, there wasn’t much of a line between the living and the dead,” explains Eleanor. Spirits returned for many reasons, with purpose: to frighten, to warn, or to plead for mercy.

The emergence of Purgatory – a realm of post-mortem purification – radically transformed the ghost story. Spirits were increasingly seen as souls returning to beg for help, urging the living to shorten their suffering through prayer and religious intercession. These were more than just tales of terror; they were profound expressions of faith and hope in a world where death was a constant companion.

Dr Eleanor Janega on location in Norfolk

Image Credit: History Hit

The Dark Hunt of Peterborough

One of the most chilling accounts comes from Peterborough Abbey, 900 years ago – at the time one of England’s most important strongholds of Christianity. In 1127, the community was paralysed by the arrival of “The Wild Hunt.” Recorded in two separate contemporary chronicles, eyewitnesses described a terrifying procession of “black, huge, and loathsome” hunters riding black horses and billy goats, accompanied by wide-eyed hounds. The horns of the hunt reportedly rang through the woods for 50 nights – the entire end of winter.

However, Eleanor uncovers a fascinating political layer to this haunting. The apparition began the night after the arrival of a new abbot, Henry of Poitou. A relative of King Henry I, Poitou was viewed by the local monks as a “drone in the hive” – a foreign interference interested only in wealth and power, and a means through which the king could assert his authority over the monasteries – bypassing the traditional custom of the monks electing their leader.

“The Peterborough hunt is an incredibly convenient haunting,” Eleanor points out. The monks used the story to suggest that God Himself was displeased with the appointment. The Wild Hunt was a tangible sign of divine wrath, showing how ghost stories allowed the Church to resist royal control and assert its own authority on how things should be done.

Dr Eleanor Janega and Bill Locke (Head of Programming and Executive Producer) on location

Revenants: the physical dead

Beyond the spectral warnings from Purgatory lay a much more visceral fear: the revenant. Unlike the ghosts of modern cinema, medieval revenants were often believed to be physical corpses that refused to stay in the ground.

Eleanor explores these “living dead” in the documentary through several chilling examples:

• The Chained Monk: A spirit so restless and troubled that his corpse had to be buried in iron chains to prevent it from rising.
• The Icelandic Sagas: Tales of drowned men returning to their villages, dripping with seawater, to sit by the hearths of the living.
• The Warning from Purgatory: A young choir girl sent back to the world of the living with a chilling message regarding the state of her soul.

Protecting against these physical threats required constant vigilance, turning rituals and prayers into essential tools for survival. The Church became the ultimate shield, using these stories to teach moral behaviour and enforce social order.

Some of the History Hit production team filming in Norfolk

Image Credit: History Hit

A legacy that lingers

Eleanor concludes that medieval ghost stories were never intended just to frighten. They were a way to explain the world, to enforce duty and honour, and to build community around the shared hearth during the long, cold winter.

“We still do it today,” Eleanor says. “We use ghost stories to bring us together and explain the world around us.” Whether it is a warning from Purgatory or a black hound in the night, these stories still echo across the centuries, reminding us that even in our modern world, we still have a fascination with what lingers in the dark.

Step into the shadows this solstice and join Dr Eleanor Janega for The Dead of Winter: Medieval Ghost Stories, available now on History Hit.

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In History Hit’s new documentary, The Trials of Joan of Arc, Dr Eleanor Janega investigates the evidence from the extraordinary trials that framed Joan’s short yet impactful life. Eleanor follows in Joan’s footsteps, from the royal court at Chinon to her military triumph in Orléans, tracing a journey of faith, warfare, and profound betrayal.

Join Eleanor as she unravels one of history’s most powerful “what ifs” and ask why a teenage girl remains the ultimate symbol of French national pride.

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The Dauphin’s desperation

In 1429, with France fractured by the Hundred Years’ War (now in its 91st year), the monarchy faced collapse. After the crushing defeat at Agincourt in 1415, and deep divisions caused by the civil war between the Armagnacs and the powerful Burgundians, the French were dispossessed. The claimant to the French throne, Charles the Dauphin, was trapped in his castle at Chinon, desperate for a miracle as the English laid siege to Orléans, the last loyal stronghold.

Into this crisis stepped Joan, a young woman born in 1412, who claimed to receive holy visions telling her of a divine mission: she was sent by God to break the siege at Orléans and deliver the Dauphin to be crowned King of France.

Joan’s first trial was convincing the desperate Dauphin to listen to a poor peasant girl. Dressed in men’s clothing for credibility, she proved her mandate by immediately identifying Charles in the crowd at court despite his attempts to conceal himself.

The Dauphin was facing a political nightmare – following his father’s death, the French had been forced to disinherit their own royal line in favour of the English infant, Henry VI. Joan promised to fix everything, but the stakes were impossibly high. As Eleanor explains, in the Middle Ages, her visions could just as easily be attributed to the devil as to God. 

Joan of Arc’s visions – by Jules Bastien-Lepage (1848–1884)

Image Credit: Jules Bastien-Lepage (1848–1884) / Public Domain

Trials of plausibility and piety

Having gained the nickname ‘La Pucelle’ (the maiden) Joan faced intense theological and physical scrutiny to confirm she was not a heretic. Joan was rigorously questioned by clergy – a test few uneducated young women could have passed – to ensure her faith was sound. She also underwent a physical examination to ensure she was still a virgin (as the devil could not claim a virgin).  Her extraordinary conviction and quick wit – once telling a cleric her heavenly voices spoke in a better dialect than his own – made her plausible.

Joan passed every test. Convinced of her divine mission, the desperate Dauphin equipped her for war with special armour, a sword, and a white banner.

The battle came at Orléans, where six months of French efforts to break the siege had failed. Arriving in April 1429, Joan was not merely a figurehead; her presence and vision – that victory would come if her banner touched the English fortress of Tourelles – reinvigorated the demoralised French troops. 

Joan and her forces pressed forward successfully. As historian Matt Lewis asserts to Eleanor, “it’s hard to believe this would have happened if Joan was not here.” Joan had injected belief into the people – the crucial conviction that “not just that they could win, but that God wanted them to win”.

Historians Matt Lewis and Dr Eleanor Janega in Orléans, France

Image Credit: History Hit

Triumph and the turning point

With Orléans relieved, Joan’s mission was half complete. She smashed through English territory to reach Reims, the highly symbolic, traditional site for the coronation of French kings. Along the way, Joan had letters sent to French towns urging support and war supplies. Eleanor points out that while Joan likely couldn’t write, her ability to dictate and mark official documents with her signature was remarkable for a young girl of her time.

These letters also show a contrast in her character: one letter pleads with the Duke of Burgundy to call off his forces due to the sadness and pain the war was causing, demonstrating her conscience, while another urges the sending of gunpowder, revealing her fierce warrior spirit.

On 17 July 1429, the Dauphin Charles was crowned King Charles VII with Joan by his side. Despite having achieved everything she had promised, Joan wanted more. Her zeal to drive the English entirely from France quickly caused divisions with King Charles, who preferred diplomacy and treaties over the total warfare Joan felt was God’s command. The cracks widened when Charles called off the fighting at Paris, an action that enraged Joan, while the King grew weary of being commanded by a teenage girl. 

The campaign against Joan

By September 1429, Charles had disbanded the army, leaving Joan to set out on her own with a large volunteer force. Joan became the target of a campaign by English-aligned scholars to discredit her as a fraud: if she had divine favour, how could she lose a battle? The end came on 23 May 1430, when she was captured by the Burgundians and swiftly sold to the English. Shockingly, King Charles VII, whom she had saved, made no attempt to rescue her.

The English immediately initiated a political show trial for heresy in January 1431, led by Bishop Cauchon (a loyal Burgundian), intending to invalidate Charles’s kingship by proving Joan was sent by the devil. 

In the documentary, Eleanor meets Professor Anne Curry, who details how although treated formally, Joan’s independent religious conviction and insistence on wearing men’s clothes violated Canon Law and became pivotal evidence against her. 

After initially confessing her heresy to avoid death, 4 days later, knowing the likely outcome and perhaps intending on martyrdom, Joan relapsed, choosing to wear men’s clothing again and claiming she had heard her voices. This was deemed final proof of heresy, leading to her being burned at the stake on 30 May 1431, in Rouen. Her remains were destroyed to prevent the creation of martyr relics. 

Dr Eleanor Janega with Professor Anne Curry

Enduring icon

Though Joan was dead her cause endured. 22 years later, after the English had been expelled from almost all of France, Joan’s family successfully initiated a second trial to annul the conviction. Eyewitnesses were called, the archives were opened, and on 7 July 1456, Joan was officially pardoned, transforming her into a martyr. Eleanor notes that in death Joan became more important as a rallying point for an idea of Frenchness – “a symbol of a cause who hadn’t been worth enough alive to be protected by the people she died in service to”.

As Eleanor concludes, Joan’s immense legacy endures in art and popular culture, with Corentin Dury, Curator at the Musée des Beaux-Arts d’Orléans, explaining how Joan has “inspired so many people in so many different ways.” Her story reveals the surprising knowledge ordinary medieval women possessed regarding complex legal and church doctrine, military tactics, and politics.

Dr Eleanor Janega with Corentin Dury, Curator at the Musée des Beaux-Arts d’Orléans

Joan was made a saint in 1920, serving as an icon of resilience for post-World War One France. Interestingly, Eleanor notes that modern admiration for Joan often focuses on the traditionally “masculine” traits for which she was killed: her courage, leadership, and her willingness to fight, suggesting we still prefer to see female power expressed through warrior tropes. 

Nonetheless, despite her youth, Joan single-handedly changed the course of French and European history, offering thousands of reasons for her story to be reconsidered today.

Join Dr Eleanor Janega on a journey into one of history’s most captivating stories in The Trials of Joan of Arc.

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In The Ashmolean Up Close: King Alfred’s Jewel, historian Dan Snow explores what he calls “one of the greatest treasures of the Ashmolean Museum.” Guided by the museum’s Director, Dr Xa Sturgis, Dan gets exclusive access to the meticulous craftsmanship and revolutionary clues contained within the jewel and other spectacular finds that are rewriting the history of Anglo-Saxon England.

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The enigma of the Alfred Jewel

The Alfred Jewel is renowned for its intricate beauty, but also for its mystery. The original Alfred Jewel is too precious to be removed from its case, but Dan is allowed to handle a replica of the jewel, which features a tear-shaped rock crystal and a stylised enamelled figure set beneath it. Crucially, around the edge, a gold inscription mentions “Alfred” by name – an extraordinary link, as it makes the jewel one of the only objects besides coins that can be directly attributed to the King, even though the writing doesn’t specifically state the word ‘king’.

However, the identity of the figure remains debated: Is it Christ? Is it Alfred himself? Dr Sturgis explains that the lack of a crown or halo suggests it could be a personification of the sense of sight. Even the jewel’s purpose is a puzzle. Given a creature carved at the base has a hole for a rivet, the most accepted theory is that the jewel functioned as an “aestel” – a valuable pointer used by priests to keep their place while reading or copying precious manuscripts and to prevent damage to pages.

This theory aligns perfectly with a statement Alfred wrote in a book he sent to all his bishops, commanding that “in each book there is an aestel of gold, and I command in God’s name that no man take the pointer from the book.”

The Alfred Jewel

Image Credit: History Hit / Ashmolean Museum

Athelney and the turning point

The location where the jewel was found – near the Somerset bogs of Athelney – is “very suggestive indeed,” according to Dr Sturgis. Athelney is famously associated with the nadir of Alfred’s reign: the low point when he was driven out by the Vikings and forced to hold out on the marshy isle (giving rise to the legend of the burnt cakes). Ten years later, following his spectacular victory at the Battle of Edington in 878 AD, Alfred founded an Abbey near Athelney.

It makes historical sense that if Alfred were to send an aestel to the Abbey, it would be a particularly magnificent one, linking the grand object directly to the most critical turning point of his life and reign.

Anglo-Saxon broken sword handle and coins found in the Watlington Hoard

The secret life of a kingdom

Dan also examines other objects from the Ashmolean that reveal the complex power politics of Alfred’s time, a period when England was divided between Alfred’s Kingdom of Wessex, the Danes, and the independent Duchy of Mercia.

The key to rewriting this history lies in the Watlington Hoard, a recent discovery of coins and silver found by a metal detectorist in 2015. The hoard, believed to have been buried by a Viking around 880 AD due to the hack-silver (used as currency by weight), contained Anglo-Saxon coins that are a unique record of the shifting political balance. Dr Sturgis points out that most coins in the hoard are a combination of King Alfred’s coinage and coins of Ceolwulf of Mercia.

The coins feature images of Alfred and Ceolwulf side-by-side, strongly suggesting that at some point they were co-equals, cooperating on coinage and perhaps even military payments. This detail shatters the long-held historical view that Mercia was simply a powerless “zombie kingdom” controlled by the Vikings, which Alfred simply absorbed. Instead, the coin evidence suggests Alfred was happy, at least briefly, to accept another great English ruler as almost co-equal.

As Dr Sturgis points out, “this idea that a metal detectorist in a field near Watlington can rewrite a period of Anglo-Saxon history just from 200 things found in the ground is extraordinary and gives a sense of the fragility of our knowledge of this period”. 

Producer Fiona Turnock and Bill Locke (Head of Programming) film some of the objects featured in the programme with Dr Xa Sturgis.

Image Credit: History Hit / Ashmolean Museum

The legacy of conflict

The tumultuous era is also revealed as Dan examines a broken sword handle found in a river – a common way Anglo-Saxons decommissioned weapons after a warrior’s death. The intricate silver decorations prove it belonged to a high-status individual, likely dating from the same critical period of the late 870s.

The handle is not only Anglo-Saxon in style, but a Christian object, bearing the symbols of the Four Evangelists. This powerful artefact could have been present at the pivotal Battle of Edington, connecting the ultimate victory to faith and elite warfare.

The objects in the Ashmolean Museum clearly show that the late 9th century was a period of intense conflict and change. From the artistry of the Alfred Jewel to the political secrets held in a handful of coins, these treasures are not just relics of the past. They are a bridge to understanding the minds and motivations of the people who lived, fought, and died while England was born.

Join Dan Snow and Dr Xa Sturgis to uncover the historical secrets of this turbulent era in The Ashmolean Up Close: King Alfred’s Jewel.

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In a new documentary, Witchmen: Witch Trials in the Land of Fire & Ice, historian Dr Kate Lister is on a mission to find out why. Her investigation takes her across the breathtaking landscape of the Westfjords in northwest Iceland, through dramatic jagged coastlines, high mountains, and roaring waterfalls, delving into a culture where a belief in magic still prevails today.

Kate uncovers the truth around some of the most unique and remote witch trials of the 17th century, revealing a story that is less about magic and more about human nature, conspiracy, and local power games.

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Iceland’s male witches

The gender of those persecuted for witchcraft varied across Europe: while women were the typical targets in Mediterranean and Germanic countries, based on the ancient idea that women possessed innate magical abilities, the role of the witch or magician was stereotypically male in several northern and eastern regions, including Iceland, Normandy, Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, the Austrian countries, and Russia.

As Kate explores, the supernatural has been part of Icelandic culture ever since the first Viking settlers arrived in the late 9th century. They brought with them the old Norse gods and folklore – Loki, Odin, and Thor – and a strong tradition of Rune and Stave magic. This ancient heritage was closely linked to men. Because Icelanders believed that men were much more capable of magic than women, the focus of the witch hunts shifted almost entirely to them.

For centuries, magic was an important everyday tool used to feel they had some control over a hostile landscape; many people would cast runes, spells and good luck charms. These ancient beliefs were practiced widely on the island for centuries alongside Christianity and never seemed to cause a problem. But when the witch craze spread from Europe, these ancient magical traditions suddenly looked like sorcery. 

Example of a rune

Image Credit: History Hit

The conspiracy and the confessions

In 17th century Iceland, a witch came to be defined as ‘somebody who used supernatural powers to cause others harm’. The trials began in earnest with the burning of the first alleged witch in 1625, accused of summoning a zombie to attack his neighbour’s horse. But it was the arrival of European zeal that truly amplified the terror.

Kate speaks with world-renowned witch expert Professor Ronald Hutton, who explains that the witch craze escalated across Europe during the turbulent years of the Reformation (1560–1640), becoming “the ultimate conspiracy theory.” In Iceland, this fervour was imported directly by local sheriffs and well-educated priests who had studied the witch hunts in countries like Denmark and Germany.

The local geography played a role: the most severe cases occurred in the remote Westfjords, where a few powerful, educated individuals had the influence to press accusations. Kate details the story of an early major case where a strange sickness affecting two young women was attributed to three men thought to be witches. Despite the likely cause being simple illness (or even bad corn), the three men were burned alive in 1654.

The documentary provides a fascinating look into the sources of this unique form of magic. Kate visits the Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft in Hólmavík, where she speaks to curator, Anna Pórarinsdóttir and is shown a replica of the infamous ‘necropants’ – trousers made from human skin and used in a grotesque ritual to magically acquire money. She also sees examples of Staves, ritual symbols often used in conjunction with Runes – the magical writing that was considered essential to kickstart any spell.

Kate Lister filming at the Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft in Hólmavík, where she speaks to curator, Anna Pórarinsdóttir and is shown a replica of the infamous ‘necropants’.

Image Credit: History Hit

Anna also shows Kate a replica of a 17th century turf house in the remote area of Klúka – an area famed for its mountain ranges, beautiful hiking trails and epic waterfalls. Such houses would have been adorned with Staves even for simple tasks, such as to help keep knives sharp while cutting grass, highlighting the commonality of such symbols in Icelandic history. 

Iceland is often seen as a magical place even today due to its association with the aurora borealis – the northern lights. The northern lights appear throughout Icelandic folklore and were often mythologised, as souls, waiting to pass to the other side, or even hidden people like the elves. In Norse mythology, the lights were a bridge that took fallen warriors to the world of the gods.

Replica of a 17th century Icelandic turf house

Image Credit: History Hit

The witch-hunter’s agenda

The rise of the witch hunts in Iceland was often driven by religious zealots with a clear agenda.

Kate examines the story of Paul Biörnson, a wealthy, well-connected priest in the village of Selárdalur. When his wife, Helga, fell ill, Biörnson embarked on a quest to “expel the devil” from the area, recognising that a reputation as a witch hunter would certainly grow his loyal congregation. Helga’s repeated accusations led to the death of seven people – one-third of all confirmed burnings in Iceland.

Crucially, Kate and curator Anna Pórarinsdóttir explore the one fact that protected Icelandic women: they could not own property or land. As Anna suggests, because the motive for many accusations across Europe was to seize the possessions of the accused, the women’s subordinate financial status ironically shielded them from prosecution.

The consequences for those accused were horrific. Alleged Icelandic witches were burned to death – a rare punishment in Europe, where the condemned were usually strangled or beheaded first. Professor Hutton explains that burning was reserved for those deemed “utterly evil,” as it was believed to remove the body, which was “impregnated with bad magic,” preventing the evil from poisoning the soil.

Dr Kate Lister at the Burning Ravine, Þingvellir National Park, Iceland

Image Credit: History Hit

The legacy of magic

Kate travels to Þingvellir National Park, the site of Iceland’s first parliament and a location where several accused witches were burned in the “Burning Ravine.” She explores the process of prosecution and even writes down a defensive Stave, demonstrating how these beliefs persist today.

The programme reveals one of the worst curses imaginable: the Fart Rune, a magical affliction with symptoms similar to dysentery, a real killer in the 17th century. The fact that people confessed to using this – even knowing they faced death by fire – underscores how real magic was to them.

Kate’s investigation suggests the witch trials were less about the supernatural and more about human nature and the terrifying ease with which hate and suspicion allowed neighbour to turn on neighbour. In a world still consumed by conspiracy theories and mass condemnation, how far have we truly progressed from the anxieties of the 17th century?

Join Dr Kate Lister as she uncovers the ultimate true crime conspiracy in Witchmen: Witch Trials in the Land of Fire & Ice.

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In History Hit’s new documentary, Rebels: Owain Glyndŵr, Professor Michael Livingston, an American conflict analyst, journeys across Wales to uncover the truth behind this extraordinary figure. Michael explores the landscapes and speaks to experts, revealing the deep political and personal grievances that drove a respected lord to become a legendary rebel who almost tore the British Isles apart.

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The spark: a personal affront

For centuries, the English had treated the Welsh as second-class citizens in their own homeland. Since the conquest by Edward I in 1283, English lords had ruled Wales from a “ring of iron” – massive, imposing castles built to stamp out Welsh identity.

Yet, the initial spark for Glyndŵr’s rebellion wasn’t a grand political vision, but a simple, deeply personal dispute. Owain, a loyal subject of the Crown (who had actually fought for Richard II) and a prosperous Welsh lord, had a land dispute with his powerful English neighbour, Reginald de Grey of Ruthin. When the new King, Henry IV, sided with the English lord – a friend – against Owain, it was a step too far. This affront to land held by Owain’s family for generations was the catalyst.

Just two days after being proclaimed Prince of Wales, Owain’s men swept into North Wales, burning the English-held town of Ruthin to the ground. This wasn’t senseless violence; it was a targeted act of rebellion against English authority in a land that had suffered under colonisation for decades. Towns like Ruthin may have been Welsh and filled with Welsh people, but the men in charge were English.

Over the course of a few days, towns across North Wales (such as Denbigh, Rhuddlan and Flint) were destroyed, sending a message that this was Welsh land and the English were no longer welcome. The rebellion spread like wildfire.

The making of a guerrilla army

The English initially dismissed the rebellion, but quickly realised their mistake. King Henry IV, a usurper facing dissent from every corner of his kingdom, was ill-equipped to fight a Welsh rebellion that quickly morphed from a local squabble into a fight for national destiny.

By the middle of 1401, much of North and Mid-Wales supported Glyndŵr’s rebellion. King Henry sent several forces into Wales but Owain’s guerrilla army easily melted into the Welsh mountains, forcing the English to fight a seemingly invisible enemy.

In the documentary, Michael explores how this rebel army armed itself, visiting blacksmith Will Sherman to examine how a common agricultural tool – the bill hook – was easily and quickly sharpened into a deadly weapon, and highly effective against the slow-moving, heavily equipped English forces. Nevertheless, English noblemen began to gather their own forces to defend themselves against the Welsh threat. 

Professor Michael Livingston assists blacksmith Will Sherman in creating a bill hook tool

Image Credit: History Hit

In 1402, Owain burnt down the border town of Knighton, which lay in territory owned by Sir Edmund Mortimer, one of the most powerful men in England. Sensing an opportunity to end the rebellion, Mortimer gathered a large English force of 2,000 men and pursued Owain’s men, numbering 1,500. Subsequently the rebellion came to a head on 22 June 1402, at the Battle of Bryn Glas. Cornered by Mortimer’s forces, Owain expertly retreated his men up a steep hill to set a devastating trap, preparing for battle. 

In the programme, Michael visits the dramatic battlefield at Bryn Glas. This was one of the first battles Michael ever reconstructed, starting him on his career course, but despite having been to Bryn Glas multiple times, this is the first time Michael has been able to use a drone to analyse the terrain and reveal the trap Owain had laid.

The battle site of Bryn Glas, filmed with Professor Michael Livingston’s drone.

While half Owain’s men were at the top of the hill, the other half were hidden in a deep ravine, next to a river that passed up the valley along the side of the hill. When the English were finally provoked enough to charge up the slope, they were met with a deadly hail of projectiles from above, before the hidden Welsh troops swept around to attack their flank. The victory was a massive propaganda coup: Owain had destroyed an English army and captured one of the greatest lords in the realm. The rebellion now had a real chance, with men flocking to Owain’s banner. 

The vision of a new Wales

The English responded to the terror of Bryn Glas with panicked laws designed to suppress Welsh culture and movements, but these only fuelled the cause. Michael meets Dr Jessica Nelson, Head of Collections at the National Archives in Kew, where they study a parliament roll from Henry IV’s reign filled with petitions to suppress the Welsh, showing the depths of English fear. 

Dr Jessica Nelson, Head of Collections at the National Archives in Kew, shows Professor Michael Livingston a parliament roll listing English demands regarding the Welsh.

Image Credit: History Hit

With swelling support, Owain captured the mighty Harlech Castle. Built by Edward I to symbolise English dominance, Harlech Castle had stood, as Michael puts it, ‘as an English island in a Welsh sea’. Michael talks to Dr Rhun Emyln, Medieval Historian at Aberystwyth University, to unpick how Owain captured it in 1404, and to discuss more about how this was not just a military victory; it was a powerful symbolic statement that solidified Owain’s claim as Prince of Wales.

Owain’s ambition grew far beyond military conquest. That same year, he convened the very first Welsh parliament at Machynlleth. There, he laid out his grand vision for an independent Wales, including a Church of Wales, new universities, and a robust foreign policy. Michael examines Owain’s great seal, a powerful symbol used on his official documents sent across Europe, conveying a clear message: this was a man who could govern and could fight.

As Professor Michael Livingston states, “The vision of Owain Glyndŵr for his new Wales is something that I think really sets him apart from other rebels. It’s one thing to try to take power, but quite another to then know what to do with it.”

The seal of Owain Glyndwr

The final showdown

Sensing England’s weakness, Owain made a powerful alliance with two key English conspirators – his former captive, Edmund Mortimer, and Henry Percy, 1st Earl of Northumberland – to fully realise his dream. In February 1405 at Tuckhill, the three met to discuss Owain’s plans to re-write the English borders. This led to the Tripartite Indenture, a radical document that planned not only to overthrow Henry IV but to carve up the British Isles, changing the map of England forever.

Owain had also made another alliance with France, one of the largest and most powerful nations in Europe. With their support, Owain could turn the Tripartite Indenture into reality. In August 1405, a powerful force of French soldiers landed in Wales and marched with Glyndŵr’s men into England. They faced Henry IV’s desperate army across a valley at Woodbury Hill. 

For days, the two armies stood ready for the showdown that would decide the fate of Britain. Yet, for reasons unknown, the battle never happened. The armies retreated, and Owain’s rebellion began its long, slow decline. 

Owain continued the fight for at least another 5 years, but with waning support and renewed pressure from the English. The hope for an independent Wales had gone. Owain’s English conspirators died shortly afterwards – Northumberland died in battle against a royal army in 1408, and Mortimer died during a siege at Harlech Castle in 1409. 

Owain Glyndŵr was never caught, never turned himself in, and was never betrayed. He was last seen by his enemies in 1412 leading an ambush against troops loyal to the English King. After this, he simply disappeared, his final fate unknown. This mysterious end only cemented his legacy. He was lauded by figures like Fidel Castro and Che Guevara as the original guerrilla fighter, and remains today a potent figure of Welsh nationalism.

Join Professor Michael Livingston to explore the epic tale of the man who led a 15-year fight for freedom in Rebels: Owain Glyndŵr.

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In a new documentary, Robin Hood: Ray Mears Folklore Heroes, renowned woodsman and survival expert Ray Mears embarks on a quest to uncover the truth. Blending his knowledge of the wilderness with a passion for history, Ray explores the landscapes, documents, and people that have shaped this enduring tale. From the ancient oaks of Sherwood Forest to a forgotten medieval manuscript, he unearths the real history woven into the legend, revealing why the story of Robin Hood has resonated with generations.

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The man behind the myth

While the first mention of the name Robin Hood appears in a court register from 1226, during the reign of King Henry III, the first ballads didn’t emerge until the 15th century. By then, the story was already widely known and evolving, with new characters and adventures being added over time. But the legend’s popularity raises a central question: why did it begin?

Historians have posited several theories for a “real” Robin Hood. Some link him to the reign of Richard the Lionheart, a popular choice today. Others place him in the tumultuous era of the Second Barons’ War or the late 13th century under King Edward I. Ray meets with Professor Laura Ashe, an expert on the legend’s origins, who advises him to look not for hard facts, which are few and far between, but for the symbols and meanings that have made the story so powerful, as well as the social and political context of the time.

The programme takes us to the ancient forests that were the heart of Robin Hood’s world. In medieval England, the countryside was a harsh, hand-to-mouth existence for the vast majority of people who worked the land as serfs.

Ray talks to History Hit’s medieval historian Matt Lewis who explains how life changed dramatically after the Norman Conquest in 1066, with the Normans centralising power and, in an act that criminalised the common people, enclosing vast areas of the countryside as “royal forests.” Suddenly, the traditional right to roam and forage for food was gone, reserved exclusively for the king and his elite. This injustice created a simmering resentment that became fertile ground for rebellion.

Medieval historian Matt Lewis (left) discusses the impact of the Norman invasion of England with Ray Mears (right).

Image Credit: History Hit

Ray explores these landscapes, looking for clues to the mindset of the time. The contrast between the free-roaming Anglo-Saxon way of life and the oppressive Norman rule may have given birth to stories of folk heroes like Robin Hood. He wasn’t the first; there were other real-life rebels like Hereward the Wake, but what made Robin Hood’s legend endure was its elusive, almost mythical nature.

A hero of the forest

While we associate Robin Hood with a longbow, its importance to the story is deeply rooted in history. The longbow was a decisive weapon in legendary battles like Agincourt, and by the 14th century, its importance was so great that English law required every man to practice with one on Sundays. It’s no surprise that Robin Hood, the ultimate symbol of justice, would be a master of this weapon. Ray joins a fellow archer to practice “roving,” a form of long-distance archery, making it easy to imagine Robin and his merry men testing their skills in the woods.

Major Oak Tree in Sherwood Forest, Nottinghamshire. The tree was said to be Robin Hood’s Principle Hideout. Image Credit: Shutterstock

Ray’s quest for historical evidence takes him to Lincoln Cathedral. Tucked away in its library is a medieval document that offers one of the earliest glimpses into the legend. A 15th-century doodle in a 13th-century book contains the first known reference to Robin Hood in Sherwood, a simple inscription that proves the story was already so well-known that a young student would scrawl it on a parchment.

The programme also explores the connection between Robin Hood and The Green Man, a mythical figure of English folklore said to embody the spirit of the wild. Both are creatures of the forest and bedecked in green, a color used for camouflage by hunters. As medieval historian Hetta Howes explains, the function of a myth is to help us understand society, and both Robin Hood and the Green Man reflect a deep connection to nature and a sense of justice that transcends reality.

Magna Carta and the Sheriff of Nottingham

Perhaps the most compelling link between the legend and real history lies in two of the most important documents in English law: the Magna Carta and the Charter of the Forest.

By the late 15th century, the Robin Hood stories began to include historical figures, most notably the villainous King John and the ruthless Sheriff of Nottingham. While history has not been kind to King John, his disastrous reign left an extraordinary legacy. The Magna Carta, sealed in 1215, was a foundational document of English law that established that the king was not above the law.

As Ray discovers, the Magna Carta contains a key reference that connects the legend to real life. The document specifically names a real-life villain who was removed from office: Philip Marc, the Sheriff of Nottingham. This proves that the myth of a “nasty” sheriff was based on a very real person, and that the grievances portrayed in the story were real.

The Charter of the Forest, 1225 reissue, held by the British Library

Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons / The British Library / Public Domain

The story doesn’t end there. The Charter of the Forest, a second document from 1217, restored rights to the common people that had been taken away by the Normans. It removed the death penalty for crimes in the forest and, as a curator points out, contains a clause that Robin Hood himself would have approved of: it pardoned anyone who had been outlawed for forest offences.

Ray’s journey reveals that while we may never know the true identity of Robin Hood, the legend is so much more than a tale. It is a story that has adapted itself to the needs of every age, a timeless tale of a hero who finds the strength and courage to fight against tyranny. This is why the story of Robin Hood – a symbol of justice, freedom, and the natural world – endures.

Join Ray Mears as he uncovers the real history behind one of Britain’s most beloved heroes in Robin Hood: Ray Mears Folklore Heroes.

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So, who was the real William Wallace? What do we truly know about this great Scottish rebel? In History Hit’s new documentary, Rebels: William Wallace, Professor Michael Livingston travels the length and breadth of the UK on a quest to find out more about the man behind the legend.

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An enigma, a minor nobleman

For a figure so central to Scottish history, William Wallace’s early life is an enigma. He doesn’t appear in the historical record until 1296, when he bursts onto the scene as a rebel leader. This lack of information has allowed myth and legend to rush in and fill the void. Much of the story we think we know comes from a 15th-century poem, The Wallace, written by a poet known as Blind Harry, nearly 200 years after Wallace’s death.

However, as Michael discovers, if you know where to look, clues to the real man do exist. Sources suggest his father was named Alan Wallace, which would mean William was a Lowlander, not a Highlander, indicating he was a minor nobleman – a far cry from the village commoner portrayed in the film ‘Braveheart’.

The spark of rebellion

In the late 13th century, a royal succession crisis gripped Scotland, leaving it on the brink of civil war. When King Edward I of England was invited to settle the matter, he used the opportunity to install a puppet king, John Balliol, and effectively seize control of Scotland. Edward’s invading army forced the Scottish nobles to swear oaths of fealty to him after the Battle of Dunbar, yet William Wallace, as a lesser nobleman, was untouched by these political manoeuvres – a freedom that would prove crucial.

Professor Michael Livingston with an original Oath of Fealty to Edward I.

Image Credit: National Records Office / History Hit

Believing the problem to be over, Edward left Scotland in September 1296, appointing two Englishmen, John de Warenney and Hugh de Cressingham, as guardian and treasurer of Scotland respectively. Edward removed the Scottish crown jewels to Westminster, and kept leading Scottish nobles in captivity. But Scotland remained a simmering pot of unrest and when Edward allowed his men to exploit the common people, it was the final straw for Wallace.

To find out more about the first steps of Wallace’s rebellion, Michael heads to Edinburgh, and talks to Dr Fiona Watson. They discuss how in May 1297, Wallace made his first move: a small, but powerful act of defiance at Lanark, where he and his men attacked and killed the English Sheriff. This seemingly minor incident was the first ripple in a wave of rebellion. Wallace wasn’t alone in his fight; pockets of revolt were flaring up across the country, most notably in the north under another rebel leader, Andrew Moray.

Stirling Bridge: The battle that changed everything

As the flames of rebellion burned brighter, Edward sailed to France to continue his wars on the continent, yet the English army marched north, determined to crush the Scots once and for all at Stirling, a strategic town often deemed the “key to Scotland.” Here, at a narrow bridge over the River Forth, the two forces would meet.

As Michael explains, “A battle is its ground. You can’t understand how a clash unfolds without understanding its terrain”. He explores the battlefield terrain with conflict archaeologist Professor Tony Pollard, discussing the various advantages and disadvantages each side had, and the importance of the Scottish spear.

On 11 September 1297, the English army, confident in their superior numbers and equipment, made a catastrophic mistake. Led by a non-military commander, they poured onto the narrow bridge, failing to see the deadly trap set by the Scots. Wallace and Moray’s spearmen waited patiently, then, with astonishing speed, pushed the English toward the river, unleashing carnage.

The Battle of Stirling Bridge was a stunning success for the Scots. Whilst Moray died from his battle wounds, the Scots’ victory propelled Wallace to fame, and he was soon knighted and appointed Guardian of Scotland – the rebel was now a ruler.

Site of the Battle of Stirling Bridge, showing the meandering River Forth which played a crucial role in the Scots’ victory. (The Wallace Monument can be seen in the background, atop the hill where the Scottish forces had gathered.

Image Credit: History Hit

The fall and a lasting legacy

However, Wallace’s triumph was short-lived. For King Edward, this was no longer a campaign for Scotland; it was a campaign against one man. Less than a year later, at the Battle of Falkirk, Wallace’s forces were crushed in a devastating defeat, a loss some historians attribute to him misapplying the very tactics that won at Stirling Bridge.

Though Wallace escaped the field alive, his spirit was broken. He resigned as Guardian and disappeared, likely to the Continent to seek aid from England’s enemies, until returning to Scotland in the early 1300s. In 1305, after relentless campaigning, Edward I declared he would pardon all Scottish lords who had opposed him – except for William Wallace. Soon after, on 5 August 1305 Wallace was captured near Glasgow and taken to Westminster for a show trial.

Wallace was accused of treason, a charge he denied, stating that he owed no allegiance to a foreign king. He was also accused of murdering monks and women, a charge which today would be classed as war crimes. Wallace vehemently denied this too, but was found guilty and, on 23 August 1305, sentenced to a horrific death, being hung, drawn and quartered.

Later in the programme, Michael heads to the National Archives to examine a document from the time, an exchequer roll detailing the cost of Wallace’s brutal execution. The document gives us a unique glimpse into the English perception of Wallace, who they believed wanted to make himself King of Scots.

Professor Michael Livingston and Dr Jessica Nelson, Head of Collections at the National Archives, view an exchequer roll which describes details about William Wallace’s death.

Image Credit: National Archives / History Hit

While Wallace lost his fight and his life, his legacy did not die with him. His rebellion is now seen as the mid-point of the First War of Scottish Independence, and the seeds he planted inspired others, most notably Robert the Bruce, who learned from Wallace’s mistakes at Falkirk to achieve a decisive victory at Bannockburn.

Centuries later, Wallace’s memory lives on in statues, stories and in poetry from figures such as Robert Burns and Sir Walter Scott. As Michael Livingston notes, in his afterlife, Wallace “became a symbol for Scots’ pride, a figurehead around which people can organise even today”.

Join Michael Livingston on a journey to find the real man behind the legend in Rebels: William Wallace.

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In History Hit’s new documentary, Power House: The Medieval Tower of London, Dan Snow goes beyond the well-known history to explore a time of immense change for the Tower in the 13th century. He uncovers how this Norman citadel was transformed into a magnificent, medieval ‘super fortress’ and a royal residence fit for kings.

Join Dan as he pulls back the curtain on this iconic fortress to reveal its hidden history as a medieval powerhouse.

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Not just a prison

The Tower’s full name – His Majesty’s Royal Palace and Fortress of The Tower of London – offers a powerful clue to its dual purpose. It wasn’t just a military stronghold; it was a bustling royal court and residence, teeming with a diverse community of soldiers, servants, and monarchs. Dan delves into this hidden world, revealing how the Tower was, in every inch, a luxurious medieval palace.

Focusing on the 13th and 14th centuries, the programme explores the royal apartments built under Henry III and Edward I. These have been refurbished to reflect their original grandeur. Dan meets with Dr Charles Farris, the Public Historian for the History of the Monarchy, and the curator of a new palace exhibition containing several original items typical of palace life lent by the London Museum. Inside the restored Royal Apartments in St Thomas’s Tower, Dan is struck by their comfort and elegance, a contrast to the stark, cold image we tend to have of medieval castles.

Dr Farris explains how these rooms would have been lavishly decorated with intricate wall paintings, luxurious hangings, and fine furniture. The new exhibition, which uses original design notes from King Henry III to recreate the vibrant wall paintings that once adorned the queen’s chambers, brings this lost opulence to life. 

Dan Snow talks to Dr Charles Farris, Public Historian for the History of the Monarchy, in the refurbished Royal Apartments, St Thomas’s Tower, Tower of London.

Image Credit: History Hit

An expensive yet essential statement of power

The kings who invested so much in the Tower were not doing so on a whim. In an age of unrest, with the throne itself nearly lost during the reigns of Henry III and his son Edward I, the Tower’s fortifications were essential for security. But the palace served an equally important political purpose: projecting power

Kings like Edward I, often short on money, spent a fortune building such lavish palaces across their kingdom. As Dan learns, the lavish construction and opulent interiors were a deliberate message to visiting foreign dignitaries that England was a formidable, top-tier nation, and as Dr Farris says, “not a country that you mess with”.

Despite this massive investment, the Tower’s royal residents were rarely home. For instance, King Edward I spent a mere 53 days there over his entire 35-year reign, as a king’s rule depended on constant travel to command his vast territories and keep his nobles in check.

The rise of a medieval super fortress

The 13th century was a golden age of building for the Tower. It was constantly upgraded, transforming from a simple Norman stronghold into a multi-layered defensive masterpiece. Under King Henry III and particularly his son Edward I, the Tower was almost a permanent building site.

The documentary explores how Edward I, inspired by the massive castles he saw on crusade, initiated a monumental building project at the Tower. The military upgrade included a new layer of defensive outer walls, a state-of-the-art entrance featuring the Byward and St. Thomas’s Towers, and a permanent wet moat. Dan, guided by the Tower’s Curator of Historic Buildings, Alfred Hawkins, gets a close-up look at these engineering marvels. 

Alfred also shows Dan one of the most incredible surviving relics of this period: the original portcullis of the Byward Tower. Carbon-dated to the 13th century, it is believed to be the oldest working portcullis in England. 

Dan Snow talks to the Tower’s Curator of Historic Buildings, Alfred Hawkins and sees the original portcullis for the Byward Tower.

Image Credit: History Hit

The business of kings

The Tower’s newfound security also had a crucial economic purpose: housing the Royal Mint. Bringing the mint inside the fortress walls was a strategic move to consolidate royal power and control. Dan discovers how the Tower literally became a place for making money, and the relevance of the ‘Byward Angel’ painting in displaying the king’s ‘divine power’.

Ultimately, the Tower of London is a microcosm of medieval kingship, encapsulating within its ancient walls the monarch’s many roles: magnificent ruler, fierce warrior, pious leader, and family man.

Watch Power House: The Medieval Tower of London and see the Tower in a whole new light.

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