Conscience of the King

by Alfred Duggan

Cerdic Elesing, King of Wessex and ancestor of all subsequent British monarchs, narrates in this fictional biography how he murdered, cheated, looted and lied his way to the great position he ultimately held - and in the process served with the great Roman leader Ambrosius and the Saxon warlord Aella, and was the foe Arthur defeated at Mount Badon.

Genres: Historical Fiction, Fiction, Medieval, Arthurian, Anglo Saxon, British Literature, Historical

Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 1951

About the author

"There have been few historical imaginations better informed or more gifted than Alfred Duggan’s" (The New Criterion).

Historian, archaeologist and novelist Alfred Leo Duggan wrote historical fiction and non-fiction about a wide range of subjects, in places and times as diverse as Julius Caesar’s Rome and the Medieval Europe of Thomas Becket.

Although he was born in Argentina, Duggan grew up in England, and was educated at Eton and Balliol College, Oxford. After Oxford, he travelled extensively through Greece and Turkey, visiting almost all the sites later mentioned in his books. In 1935 helped excavate Constantine’s palace in Istanbul.

Duggan came to writing fiction quite late in his life: his first novel about the First Crusade, Knight in Armour, was published in 1950, after which he published at least a book every year until his death in 1964. His fictional works were bestselling page-turners, but thoroughly grounded in meticulous research informed by Duggan’s experience as an archaeologist and historian.

Duggan has been favourably compared to Bernard Cornwell as well as being praised in his own right as "an extremely gifted writer who can move into an unknown period and give it life and immediacy" (New York Times).

Reviews

[Chrisl · Rating 4 out of 5]

review copied and pasted from "
KIRKUS REVIEW

A noteworthy addition to the Credo Books, which provides a wealth of historical background and information about the early 16th century. Sent to be a page to the Archbishop when he was only twelve, he went on to Oxford at fifteen, and we are given a vivid picture of the disciplined and rugged lives of the University students of those far away times. His father wished him to return to London to study law at the Inns of Court- and his meteoric rise brought him to the post of Henry VIII's King's Councillor and Judge, and finally to the post of Lord Chancellor of England in 1529. He fell from favor when he refused to sign the Oath of Succession which would have acknowledged Henry as head of the Catholic Church in England. The clarity of the exposition will give young readers a vivid picture of the historical significance of the steps which led to Thomas More's eventual martyrdom. But much of the unique charm of the book lies in the delightful descriptions of family life, which are marked with humor, tolerance and contentment, outstanding in any day. The author devotes one engrossing chapter to More's Utopia. A warmly human story of a great man who was also a great saint, this is beautifully written and would appeal to many as a book for all the family.
Pub Date: Oct. 15th, 1962
Publisher: Hawthorn"


There was a time when I read nearly all the Duggan books in a matter of months. Alas, although I'm certain this was one of them, long since given away, I have no memory of its contents, so 4-stars may be a politically correct, generous rating.

If this is your initial read of Alfred and you don't find his writing compelling, don't write him off completely. There are Duggans I'd do again, Winter Quarters and the Elagabalus book.

Winter Quarters
Family Favourites

[Aly Abell · Rating 3 out of 5]

Stories of this time period usually belong to the King Arthur tradition. Conscience of the King by Alfred Duggan instead tells the story from the perspective of Cerdic of Wessex, said to be the first king of Wessex and presented by Duggan as a man of mixed Roman and Germanic heritage. The novel was well researched, but it was not the most fun book to read.

Usually authors lead the reader to be at least somewhat on the side of the protagonists, even if the main characters are rascals or even scoundrels. But the Cerdic in Conscience of the King is really a king without a conscience. He is very difficult to relate to, and I felt little or no sympathy for him. Yes, I could understand to some degree why he might have the desires he did, but Cerdic did nothing to redeem himself from his transgressions. Even those closest to him always seemed to be meeting with “misfortune.”

Duggan chose to write the narrative from a first-person perspective. That can be an effective technique, but when the narrator is such a cold-blooded, unsympathetic character, it doesn’t seem to work as well. It felt rather unpleasant to be inside Cerdic’s head. Also, the use of first-person meant that dialogue was very limited, which perhaps contributed to the somewhat plodding nature of the book.

Some of the chapters were very long; there were only seven chapters in this novel of 274 pages. For those of us who can usually only read in short spurts, it is more convenient to have somewhat shorter chapters, or at least scene breaks.

This book was written back in 1951, and perhaps readers of historical novels then had different expectations than those of today. Maybe some of the features that make this book less pleasant to read just reflect the usual practices of older novels versus those written more recently. However, many novels written even longer ago still read well today. Johnny Tremain is such an example. I was glad to have read Conscience of the King due to its different perspective on the early years of the Saxon invasion, but I would not really recommend it except to Anglo-Saxon enthusiasts.

This review is also available at http://wyrtwizard.blogspot.com/2014/0...

[Alex · Rating 4 out of 5]

Alfred Duggan's CONSCIENCE OF THE KING is a marvelous tale of the founding ruler of Wessex, the kingdom of the West Saxons. It's marvelous because he is a wicked man, a backstabber and a traitor. And yet you find yourself rooting for him, even when Artorius shows up trying to save Britain for the British. Such is the power of a narrator to win you over to his side no matter how wrong that side is.

Like the best of historical novels, it's a visit to another time and other ways of thinking. Cerdic is born around 500 AD, the same time more or less as THE CIRCLE CAST. He's born a Roman but of Saxon descent, and his journey takes him from Roman Britain to Saxon Britain to Saxony and back. It's the Dark Ages of Britain, when Roman civilization is collapsing without any Saxons civilized enough to take it over. Alfred Duggan captures the nostalgia his hero feels for the comforts of civilization even as he's destroying it for his own reasons.

CONSCIENCE OF THE KING is not a passionate book; Duggan's hero is a conniver who barely feels much sentiment for his own son, and doesn't regret his murders. But it is a fascinating book. I'm looking forward to his other two Saxon novels, THE KING OF ATHELNEY, about Alfred the Great, and THE CUNNING OF THE DOVE. He really brings another time and place to life, and with tremendous historical accuracy. It is hard to find a movie that does that.

[Will · Rating 5 out of 5]

First class historical fiction, from one of the old masters of the genre. Well worth your time. Not currently in print, but if you see it in the library or in a used book store, buy it, you won't be disappointed. Same goes for all of his books.

[Kelhi Herring · Rating 5 out of 5]

Conscience of the King is the third Duggan book I've read (and I'm rereading the first one I ever read so I can read them in chronological order). I liked this more than The Little Emporers. I don't like it more than The King of Athelney...but that's no surprise: Alfred my guy, like my top childhood "crush," after Tigger. But wow: several things in Conscience of the King kind of blew me away.

First, I love the style in which this book is written. It is quite unique and totally engaging. It's all in first-person--nothing special there--but paired with Duggan's mostly expositional style of writing...it's really something unique. By exposition style of writing, I mean that Duggan's narrator, Cedric, presents very little "present action." Most of what he narrates about his life is big-picture, painted with broad strokes. There's some dialogue and a little play-by-play action; we get to "see" a few battles. But overall, you're reading something much closer to a personal chronicle than a novel. The narrator mostly tells; he doesn't show. That might sound boring (in The Little Emperors, it is a bit boring). But it is not in this book! Not at all! And that has everything to do with the narrator's voice.

Second, the narrator's voice is just fantastic. Cedric is so honest...all while making excuses for himself constantly. Not the excuses of a child, but the well-thought-out and consistent explanation of why someone has lived the way he has, given his background, cultural values (values of various cultures), and personal ambition. He is not a good man (hence the title; more on that later). However, from the very beginning of the novel, you are set up to understand and just listen to this man--even if you never condone his actions and rarely sympathize. Not only is he honest: he's simply hilarious. He's hilarious, in part, because of the contrast between his honesty and his immorality/pragmatism. And then there's just the kind of sardonic, blunt way in which he speaks. I laughed out loud in many places; I read some delightful passages to Garrett and he laughed, not even being engaged in the story! And this isn't a "funny" book (in terms of genre).

Third, there's the character of Cedric. As I said above, he's not a good guy. But I would not have read this if he was a nasty, disgusting "kill and rape and steal" villain because "that's what life is about!" (The cover image for this ridiculously small-print, bargain version of the book suggests that's what the book is about. It's a bad cover.) Cedric isn't like that. He's got a personal goal and will stop at nothing to achieve that (admittedly, he does some immoral things, "on the side," that are not strictly a part of his goal--and has to learn that doing such things is dangerous, since it jeopardizes his goal; this just makes him realistic). He's selfish, cunning, manipulative, patient, and, if needed, ruthless. Although the last line of the book (part of a hilarious and very sad final paragraph) indicates that part of it is for him "fun," overall, the tenor of the book is that for Cedric, it's not about the fun (the fun is a distraction that almost messes him up). It's about his ambition. And he does grow as a character. Besides his failures (which add interest to the book: will he ever achieve his goal?!?!), he becomes "less selfish," realizing by the end that ambition for his own sake means nothing...because he's going to die. Of course, he is not in any way a Christian or giving-a-Christian-message kind of character; after all, he never repents and settles on the also faulty goal of ambition for his dynasty. On the one hand, that's a fantastic place to end because it sets Duggan up so wonderfully for The King of Athelney, which is about his descendants. On the other, Cedric's original goal and modified goal show the reader the futility of it all. What I mean by this is that even though he's got a character no one should seek to emulate, he's still a character that we can learn from. Selfish ambition and pragmatism make you this kind of guy...and what a fearful mirror he presents if you like that.

Fourth, on a more personal level, I enjoyed reading this because I've got a thing for historical fiction set during early British history (which is often so early that it's more myth than history). Duggan's writing is much different from Rosemary Sutcliff's, of course, and it was interesting to compare Duggan's take on Ambrosius and Artorius (figures in the historical chronicles and the source material for Arthur) with Sutcliff's take on them (see her young adult book The Lantern Bearers and her adults-only masterpiece Sword at Sunset). "Compare" is a bit of a strong word, as the Arthur figure is the main character (narrator) in Sword at Sunset and we never meet the Arthur figure in Consciecne of the King. Still, it was fun to see "old friends" pop up in Cedric's narrative. Additionally, it is always a delight to read Duggan's historical notes after reading his novels, and this book has an especially good one. It's a treat to see what actual sources he has, why he's made certain decisions, and why he finds ancient sources so credible, all while recognizing that this book is fiction.

I was going to save this for my next review, but here it is, as a final thought: Duggan is also able to write sympathetically, convincingly, and consistently about very different types of historical figures. Felix in The Little Emperors is just a public administrator and kind of a boring guy; he's not brilliant, witty, or brave--so much easier to characterize him by what he isn't! Cedric in Conscience of the King is everything I've said above. But Duggan's Alfred in The King of Athelney is moral and conscientious, albeit quite human. Three very different men, all created by one author. A real treat.

[Mieczyslaw Kasprzyk · Rating 3 out of 5]

I needed a light-weight, easy read for a train journey so I picked this up.
I did right.
"The Conscience of the King" might not be a great work of literature but it is entertaining, easy to get into and educational - all at the same time... how lucky can you get. It covers that dark period in English history between the leaving of the Romans and the establishment of the early Saxon kingdoms. Names like Vortigern, Hengist and Horsa, Oisc and Aelle come up as readily as Tom and Jerry as we travel through the creation of the Kingdoms of Kent and Susses. Our hero, though we're supposed to see him as an anti-hero (I didn't, but then I'm widely read), Cerdic, is the catalyst through which adventure and conquest takes place. His gradual rise to become King of Wessex and how he becomes, ultimately, the founder of the line of English monarchs to this very day is at the crux of the matter.
If you like an historical tale of derring-do then this is one for you, but take heed! I had to get hold of an out-of-print, second-hand copy... what an offence against reading that books go out of print!

[Rupert Matthews · Rating 5 out of 5]

A great historical romp through Dark Age Britain. The characters are well drawn adn believable - especially the evil old sod who is telling the story of his life as he looks back from the age of 70 odd. The author paints a credible picture of both the declining Roman society and the pagan barbarian way of life as our hero moves between the two. He also manages to weave a workeable narrative around the few historic facts known about this period - though to be fair none of those "facts" is entirely uncontested by historians. Archaeology has moved on since this book was written, so some of what the author says is erroneous - but that is hardly his fault. In any case it is a great adventure story. Get a copy and read it. Great fun.

[Roger Burk · Rating 3 out of 5]

Despite the lurid cover of the paperback edition, this is a serious historical novel. It presents a well-researched and believable picture of Britain in the sub-Roman age, with a kingdom of brawling Saxons in Kent, roving bands plundering and killing at will, and assorted Celto-Roman kingdoms in the east, trying with varying degrees of success to keep up civilization (though I think modern scholarship would say that the author has exaggerated the ferocity and bloodthirstiness of the Saxons). However, let the reader beware: The title is ironic. Our hero is murderous, crafty, and amoral, with no compensating charm. Spending time in his company is no pleasure. He encounters a check to his ambitions when he meets Arthur in the field at Badon, but one would wish to see him die in satisfying anguish and not of old age.

[Justin · Rating 4 out of 5]

A great work of historical fiction. The narrator and main character is a Roman Briton, the 3rd son of a nobleman in the land once occupied by the Regni. Using his supposed Saxon heritage he eventually manages to gain control of a Saxon warband and lead the invasion of the West Saxons. Cerdic, with his son Cynric, found the kingdom of Wessex (later the kingdom that unifies England). This is an old book, and I don't know how well its ideas have held up against more recent discoveries, but still makes a great read.

[Gerry Grenfell-Walford · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a criminally underrated book and in my opinion easily Duggan's best that I have read.
Yes, Duggan pays a good deal of attention to historical and archaeological facts as they were known at the time of writing. His picture of Roman Britain slowly collapsing into chaos- a chaos that a person with enough ambition and cleverness could turn to good use- is convincingly real.
But the real reason you want to read this book is the gloriously dishonest, scheming, venomous little *urd who is the main 'hero' of the piece: Cerdic Ellesing, founder of the West Saxon kingdom and point of origin of all monarchs of Wessex, England, then Britain thereafter.
The subversivensss of this book is not immediately apparent, but I love the idea that the centre of British political life and the source of all it's later greatness was such a devious little crook! And the sly humour that peppers the book is very much of this kind: sneery, superior, dead-pan and very, very black! Think 'Kind Hearts and Coronets'.
It's not always obvious but when you see it, it's gloriously bitchy!
The story charts Cerdic's unlikely advance from mistrusted (with good reason!) younger son to independent king of a new and powerful kingdom. The road to power lies over the dead bodies of (in no particular order) his two older brothers, his father, his wife, and his previous partner (complete with their unborn child).
This outrageous tale could have been overplayed and turned into farce but it never does. Duggan is a serious historian for all his withering acerbicism.
And now we come to why this book isn't better read and known: I think Duggan's values are simply too old world for modern tastes. He speaks without irony of 'barbarians' and 'civilisation'. He is flatly not a feminist, and thinks that the collapse in the gap between honestiores and humiliores is responsible for the fall of Roman Britain (basically, 'get back in your box plebs!')
Cerdic is, as I have warned, a nasty little sh*t, and so these values are quite in keeping. Be under no illusions, he's not a villain with a secret heart of gold (although he does have a handful of redeeming features but I'll let you figure those out). He really is a bad man, who, in the last paragraph, wonders wryly if he might now look forward to going to hell, but reflecting that 'still it was fun while it lasted'. He certainly doesn't deserve the temporal success and comfort that he has worked so hard and so singlemindedly for. But does this surprise anyone with half an eye on current affairs anymore? How much more shocking would this idea have been when the book was first published.
Glorious and horrible, featuring an archetypal rotter on steroids, this book is one of my favourite guilty pleasures. One of a kind!

*****Great
**** Good
*** Fair
** Poor
* Ugh...

[Delphi · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars if I could, I love historical fiction and this was an amazing story that followed all facts we know about Cerdic's life and what we don't know was filled with such wonderful, creative fiction that wasn't unbelievable for the time. Cerdic wasn't particularly likeable - but he isn't meant to be and you end up rooting for him anyway. After reading the chapters I thought the chapter titles really funny, like an inside joke between Cerdic and the reader.

[Frederick Heimbach · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really great. Add this book to the list of those which charm comes from a main character who is a complete sociopath. And I learned a lot from its depiction of barbarians and the semi-civilized people who get to watch their way of life crumble before their eyes.

[Megan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I rather enjoyed this. It showed how the civilization went downhill after the Romans left. It was also an interesting portrait of a villain who doesn't think he's a villain.

[Brian · Rating 5 out of 5]

The first of a trio of Anglo-Saxon novels, The Conscience of the King focuses on the beginnings of the kingdom of Wessex, as told by its founder, Cerdic, a renegade Romano-Celt who betrays his own culture and seeks his fortune with the Saxon invaders. A completely selfish and unscrupulous individual, the progress of his carefully laid plans and the constant self-justification with which he explains his treachery is, nonetheless, quite compelling.

Equally fascinating is Duggan's portrait of the disintegrating Romano-Celtic society- in particular, the abandoned and haunted cities gradually falling prey to the elements:

"What made Calleva such a queer place to wander in in was that it had been abandoned while it was still a concern. The streets were overgrown, and most of the roof-beams had been stolen by people who were too lazy to cut timber even in that thick Forest, but many house-walls were intact. In sheltered corners you could trace frescoes on the plaster, and mosaic floors glimmered through a layer of mud."

At the end of the tale, his new kingdom established, Cerdic looks back with regret at the change he has helped usher in and, in an observation that has resonance in post-Brexit Britain, he sums up the absurdity of the Romano-British belief that their society could function as an independent unit, paying fewer taxes to Rome and organizing its own affairs:

We light-heartedly broke with the Emperor, thinking that all the honestiores of Britain would then become little Emperors on their own. Too late. we discovered that Rome really gave us something in return for the gold that left the province.

A layered view of a period of enormous historical change, The Conscience of the King reminds us that in the long term it's not always easy to tell the winners from the losers.

[Howard Wiseman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Unusually for an Arthurian-period novel, Conscience of the King is told from the perspective not of Britain's defenders, but of one of the Germanic invaders: Cerdic (the King of the title), who narrates the story of his long life. That said, Cerdic in this version is really Coroticus, a Roman-British nobleman, although with German ancestry ("Woden-born"). Moreover, his early military career was in the service of Ambrosius before he flees, as a fugitive from justice, into the service of Oisc of Kent. His lack of scuples (the title of the book is wholly ironic) leads to his fleeing again, this time into the service of Aelle, before he finally gathers his own following to found the kingdom of the West Saxons. Although Cerdic is an unprincipled scoundrel, his intelligence, frankness, and desire to found a civilized state enable the reader to warm to him. Duggan is renowned for the accuracy of his historical novels, although some ideas have been overturned by scholarship since it was published in 1951.

[James Hockey · Rating 2 out of 5]

I admire the research and scholarship that has gone into the writing of this book. I am aware that the author is one of the greats of the historical novel and that I am out of step with almost all other reviewers. I didn't like the book as story telling. I found the characters two dimensional with neither passion nor compassion. I could neither relate to the protagonist nor understand his motivations.
For those reasons I found this a bland read. Gibbon breathes more life into his characters.

The problem is in the writing style of the author. I found the same problem with the Little Emperors where the wife of Felix was a totally unbelievable character.

In my view this author paints great scenery but peoples it with cardboard actors.

[Troy · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting take on Cerdic, founder of the Gewissæ who later became the West Saxons. I guess I find it more interesting because of the role of the site of Anderida, now Pevensey, which is within walking distance from my home.

[Sammi · Rating 4 out of 5]

A really enjoyable, easy read, full of historical detail, vivid descriptions and colourful accounts of people and places, all of which combine to bring the Dark Ages to life.