When King Edwin of Northumbria was baptized in 627, Christianity began spreading rapidly across Anglo-Saxon England. One ruler refused to follow: Penda, king of Mercia, described by historians as the last great pagan warrior king among the Anglo-Saxons and the most warlike man of the royal Mercian line. His death in battle marked the end of English paganism as a political force, and within a generation, the old gods faded from living memory. Penda first appears in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle in the year 626, when he succeeded to the kingdom of Mercia and reigned for 30 years.
He belonged to the House of Icel, a dynasty named after the legendary first king of Mercia, and he claimed direct descent from Woden, the all-father god. In Anglo-Saxon tradition, kings drew legitimacy from their divine ancestry, but that lineage alone was not enough. A ruler had to prove divine favor, usually through victory in war or through gifts such as prophecy and healing. For Penda, repeated triumphs on the battlefield served as proof that he was a true son of Woden.
Sources suggest his resistance to Christianity may not have come from ignorance but from a belief that Christ was not a fitting patron for a warrior king. Among the Anglo-Saxons, the rise and fall of a king reflected the strength of the god he served, and in Penda’s eyes, his ancestral gods proved stronger in war than the Christian God. Much of Penda’s early life remains unknown, as he is not mentioned in surviving records until he took the throne. He would have received the typical upbringing of Anglo-Saxon royalty, training with sword, spear, and axe while being immersed in pagan beliefs and rituals.
The most significant surviving source on his reign is Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, written relatively close to Penda’s lifetime, though fragments also appear in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and the Historia Brittonum, both composed centuries after his death. The first major test of Penda’s power came against Edwin, king of Deira and Bernicia, which together formed the kingdom of Northumbria. Around 624, Edwin had become the most powerful ruler in Britain, and Bede lists him among the kings who held imperium over other Anglo-Saxon monarchs. The Chronicle gives him the title Bretwalda, or ruler of Britain.
Penda viewed Edwin’s growing power with concern and allied himself with the king of Gwynedd, a powerful Welsh kingdom. The confrontation came at the Battle of Hatfield Chase on October 12, 633. Edwin was killed at the age of 47, and his army was slain or scattered. His son Osfrith also fell in the battle.
Another son, Eanfrith, sought refuge with Penda but was later killed during Oswald’s reign in what Bede described as a betrayal of an oath. Penda brought Edwin’s head to York as a trophy, and the once-mighty Bretwalda was dead. Penda then turned east. In 636, he attacked East Anglia, ruled jointly by the Christian kings Egric and Sigeberht.
According to Bede, Sigeberht had retired to a monastery after abdicating, but when the East Anglian soldiers faced the battle-hardened Mercians, they urged him to lead them. His warriors seized him and threw him out of the monastery, carrying him into the ranks of the army in hopes that his presence would steady the soldiers. Sigeberht, still mindful of his monastic profession, carried nothing in his hand but a wand. He was killed, and his army was slaughtered or dispersed.
Penda had slain two more Christian kings. Despite his staunch paganism, Penda allowed his son Peada to convert to Christianity. When Peada sought to marry Alhflaed, the daughter of Oswiu of Northumbria, Oswiu refused unless Peada embraced the faith and was baptized along with the nation he governed. Peada agreed willingly, and Bede records that Penda did not obstruct the preaching of the word among his people.
This portrayal suggests Penda was a tolerant king, even as the old faith slowly faded. Following Edwin’s death, his nephew Oswald ascended to the Northumbrian throne after defeating Cadwallon, the British king who had allied with Penda at Hatfield Chase. By 634, Oswald had reestablished Northumbrian dominance over much of Britain. The precise cause of the war that followed remains unknown, but Penda once again allied himself with the Welsh, commanding an army of roughly 3,200 soldiers against Oswald’s 1,000.
The Battle of Maserfield resulted in a decisive defeat for the Northumbrians. Bede recounts Oswald praying for the souls of his soldiers as he faced imminent death. Oswald’s body was dismembered, with his head and arms displayed on poles. He was subsequently venerated as a martyr and saint, and Bede documents numerous miracles attributed to his bones.
In the 12th century, Henry of Huntingdon wrote that the plain of Maserfield was white with the bones of the saints, and he attributed Penda’s victory to diabolical agency. Historians note that characterizing the battle as a simple clash between Christians and pagans may be oversimplified, as Christian Welsh likely fought on Penda’s side. The 20th-century historian D. P.
Kirby observed that the battle left Penda, without question, the most powerful Mercian ruler so far to have emerged in the Midlands. Frank Stenton, an English historian of Anglo-Saxon England, wrote that Maserfield elevated Penda to the status of the most formidable king in England. In 645, the throne of Wessex was held by Cenwalh, one of the last pagan kings in Anglo-Saxon England. He had married Penda’s sister, but when Cenwalh repudiated her in favor of another wife, Penda marched against Wessex and drove Cenwalh into exile in East Anglia.
Who ruled Wessex during those years remains uncertain, though historians widely believe Penda may have exercised control despite the absence of surviving records. At that time, King Anna ruled East Anglia, a pious sovereign who enriched the monastery at Cnobheresburg. In 651, Penda brought war upon East Anglia again, attacking the monastery itself. Anna and his men rushed to its defense, holding off the Mercians long enough for the monks to flee with their sacred books and relics.
Though the monastery was spared, Anna was defeated and forced into exile. Anna returned to reclaim his kingdom in 654, but word of his return reached Penda. A second, more devastating assault followed. The armies met, and the East Anglians were defeated.
King Anna and his son Jurmin both fell. In the aftermath, Penda appointed his own son Peada as ruler of Middle Anglia, further expanding Mercian dominance. Penda then turned north again, unleashing war upon Oswiu of Bernicia in his own territory. According to Bede, Penda cruelly ravaged the land of the Northumbrians, laying waste to the countryside and besieging the royal stronghold of Bamburgh.
When the Mercians failed to take the fortress by force, they attempted to burn it down, but Bede recounts that a divine wind summoned by the prayers of Saint Aidan miraculously turned the flames back upon the attackers. Aidan is said to have cried out, “Behold, Lord, what mischief Penda does,” and the heavens answered. Years later, after Aidan’s death, Penda returned and again led a brutal campaign, burning the very church where Aidan had died. Yet the wooden post against which the saint had leaned in his final moments remained miraculously untouched by the flames.
No open battles are recorded between Penda and Oswiu during this time, suggesting Oswiu may have avoided direct conflict, perhaps recognizing he could not yet match the Mercian king’s might. The aging warlord would march northward one final time, his sights set on overthrowing Oswiu. The precise cause of this final campaign remains uncertain. Bede tells us Penda had shown tolerance for Christian preaching within Mercia, but some historians suggest Penda viewed the spread of Bernician-backed Christianity into Mercia and Middle Anglia as a form of spiritual colonization threatening his sovereignty.
Others speculate he sought to prevent Oswiu from reuniting Northumbria and restoring the kingdom’s former glory. To prepare for the coming storm, Penda rallied his allies from East Anglia and Wales, assembling a formidable host led by 30 warlords. Oswiu, brother of the slain Oswald, ruled only Bernicia, the northern portion of Northumbria, and soon found himself under siege in a now-lost stronghold somewhere in the northern wilds. Accounts of what followed differ.
According to the Historia Brittonum, Oswiu, desperate to save his kingdom, offered treasure in exchange for peace, and Penda accepted it, distributing the wealth among his British allies. Bede offers a starkly different account, claiming Penda refused the offer outright and vowed to utterly destroy the entire race of Oswiu, sparing neither high nor low. Complicating Oswiu’s position, his own son Ecgfrith was held as a hostage within Mercia. For reasons that remain unclear, Penda’s army turned southward, perhaps intending to return home.
Desertions began to sap the strength of the Mercian alliance. Cadell of Gwynedd fled under cover of night with his men, earning the scornful name “Battle-Shirker. ” Ethelwald of Deira likewise withdrew, choosing to await the outcome from a place of safety. Only King Æthelhere of the East Angles remained loyal, standing beside Penda on the eve of battle.
Oswiu, still vastly outnumbered, gave battle. Bede recounts that Oswiu, with a mere handful of warriors, stood against an enemy said to be three times his size, 30 legions led by renowned commanders. Oswiu and his son Ecgfrith fought with desperate courage. The pagans were routed, and their 30 captains and countless soldiers fled or were cut down.
Among the fallen was Æthelhere of East Anglia, brother to the slain King Anna. The battle was fought near the River Winwaed, swollen beyond its banks by heavy rains. As the Mercians fled, many were not slain by the sword but drowned in the floodwaters. Penda himself lay among the fallen, and thus his reign ended.
He was the last great pagan warlord of England. With his fall, the old gods faded, and the tide of Christianity swept ever more firmly across the land. His sons, perhaps wary of endless conflict or drawn to the unifying power of the church, embraced Christianity. With that, the old gods of the Angles and Saxons were silenced.
Frank Stenton wrote of Penda: “He was himself a great fighting king of the type most honored in the Germanic saga, the lord of many princes and the leader of a vast retinue attracted to his service by his success and generosity. Many stories must have been told about his dealings with other kings, but none of them have survived. His wars can only be described from the standpoint of his enemies. ”
What kind of man must he have been when so many of the kings he vanquished were later raised to sainthood?
Edwin of Northumbria, struck down at Hatfield Chase, was venerated as a saint. Oswald of Bernicia, defeated and slain at Maserfield, became a martyr and was sainted. Even Prince Jurmin, the young son of King Anna, slain by Penda, later rose to saintly status. Those who perished by Penda’s sword were transformed into saints, their deaths woven into hallowed legends.
Yet the chroniclers, steeped in Christian zeal, cast Penda in the shadows of their theology. Some historians suggest that had he not been written from a Christian perspective, he too might have been called Bretwalda, for in power and influence he was equal to any who bore the title. When Penda fell in battle, he died the death he had lived for, the death of a warrior.
One truth endures beyond the dogma and the disdain: Penda was a fierce warrior, unyielding and unbending, and in that, he became a legend.