English weather is proverbially lousy partly because it’s so wet all the time. But January 16 of 1362 was especially bad, the onset of the Grote Mandrenke which if your low Saxon is in good working order will alarm you because it means the "Great Drowning of Men".

Also known as the "Second St. Marcellus Flood" because it peaked on his feast day, January 17, the Grote Mandrenke took at least 25,000 lives in the British Isles and northern Europe from Denmark to the Netherlands. A previous "First St. Marcellus flood" had hit in 1219, drowning some 36,000 people in northern Europe, which surely indicates that extreme weather did not begin when Al Gore hit middle-age.

In fact the Grote Mandrenke was the result of a massive southwesterly Atlantic gale that sent a storm side surging far inland, sweeping away islands, cutting off parts of the mainland and wiping entire towns off the map to the point that some cannot now be located even through archeology. And it was, as the "Second St. Marcellus flood" business indicates, far from unusual in that period.

Wikipedia notes blandly that "This storm tide, along with others of like size in the 13th century and 14th century, played a part in the formation of the Zuiderzee, and was characteristic of the unsettled and changeable weather in northern Europe at the beginning of the Little Ice Age." But hang on. Doesn’t that sound exactly like "climate change"? But hardly "man-made" or, if you like long words, "anthropogenic."

OK then. If drastic, menacing climate change has been clearly happening since long before humans invented factory mass production, and has been known to have been happening, it tells you what?

The politically correct answer is nothing. Everybody contemplating any issue other than the current panic knows climate has always varied, often suddenly and with dramatic consequences, and says it openly. Glaciers suddenly advance and suddenly retreat. The Earth warms and cools repeatedly. But never mind. Pay no attention. The science is settled. It’s all our fault.

Except the science is no more settled than the climate itself. The famous "Little Ice Age" itself, which brought the Middle Ages to something of a screeching halt and lasted into Victorian times, was not caused by humans. But nor logically then was its end, which set off the warming trend that persisted through most of the 20^th century. Indeed most of that warming awkwardly preceded the large increase in atmospheric CO2 to which it is attributed by those who do not believe that causes must precede effects for science, or life, to make any sense.

Blaming humans for unstable weather is about as rational as blaming St. Marcellus. Which people in the Middle Ages were too sensible to do, I might pointedly add.

On this date in history the Jamestown settlement burned down. As if they didn’t have enough problems already. Mind you it wasn’t much of a settlement back on January 7 of 1608. Basically a fort full of fools who didn’t know where they were, how to grow crops or almost anything else you’d want in the old tool kit if you were, say, moving to a new continent in the age of sail.

Be that as it may, there was a lot more there before the fort burned down than afterward. For instance a fort in which to take refuge if the locals attacked you because of something you had done like steal from them or lie to them or show up looking ominous, or just because they had a habit of attacking anyone handy. (Correct answer: all of the above; despite PC versions the first deadly aboriginal attack occurred within two weeks of their arrival.)

Undaunted, they rebuilt the fort and lounged about in it during the "starving time" in which nearly everybody died after eating boot soup (less from the quality of the boots than the insufficient quantity) and various expeditions from England brought more food and more fools. Indeed, just five days before the fire a ship showed up without enough food and 70 more mouths to feed.

Nevertheless John Smith did pull them through the worst of the crisis including abolishing socialism and discovering that people did more work if the benefits were fairly distributed, of all things. And Jamestown prospered and flourished and so did Virginia and then the United States with all its great virtues and some scary defects.

It remains amazing that such a ludicrous venture could in fact succeed despite everything from bad preparation if any to the hostility of the far more numerous locals to choosing a swamp as your ideal site to the worst drought in 700 years to carelessness with fire in your only building. As with many things in history, we should not take it for granted just because it did happen. Certainly if you’d been standing among the blackened timbers on January 7, 1608 you’d have been likely to say "OK, that’s it, I’ve had it, where’s the ship home?"

Only to be told it was one more thing we didn’t really think of.

"There are few words which are used more loosely than the word 'Civilization.' What does it mean? It means a society based upon the opinion of civilians. It means that violence, the rule of warriors and despotic chiefs, the conditions of camps and warfare, of riot and tyranny, give place to parliaments where laws are made, and independent courts of justice in which over long periods those laws are maintained. That is Civilization— and in its soil grow continually freedom, comfort, and culture. When Civilization reigns, in any country, a wider and less harassed life is afforded to the masses of the people. The traditions of the past are cherished, and the inheritance bequeathed to us by former wise or valiant men becomes a rich estate to be enjoyed and used by all." Winston Churchill in 1938, quoted in Daniel Hannan Inventing Freedom: How the English-Speaking Peoples Made the Modern World

Yes, it’s Aethelred time again. But I’m not going to heap scorn on him this time, just anxiety. Because I have a different Aethelred in mind than my usual target, the weakly villainous Aethelred II "the Unready" who ruled England unsteadily and even intermittently for the disastrously long period from 978-1013 and again from 1014-16.

Today it’s Aethelred I "of Wessex" who ruled frantically from 865 to 871 and is chiefly remembered today for… nothing, because he isn’t remembered at all. But if he were, it would be for being the brother of Alfred the Great. This Aethelred was the fourth son of king Aethelwulf of Wessex and the third son of Aethelwulf to rule Wessex (following Aethelbald and Aethelbert and yes, these are pretty cool names once you get past the strangeness and the opening diphthong) in this desperate period during which the Danes seemed to be overwhelming English civilization.

Indeed, a great Viking army had hit England the same year Aethelred took the throne and it had destroyed the major kingdoms of Northumbria and East Anglia before turning their sights and swords on Mercia and then in 870 Wessex. And Aethelred himself was badly beaten by the Danes in the Battle of Reading on January 4, 871, regrouped to win at Ashdown but got walloped again at Basing and Meretun in the spring before dying shortly after Easter.

The logical sequel would be Alfred’s own defeat and the perishing of the Anglo-Saxon-Jute order in England, barbaric in its origins but thoroughly Christian and surprisingly civilized by the 9th century. It would be like the gradual disintegration of Arnor and the crumbling of the successor fragments of Rhudaur, Cardolan and Arthedain in the backstory to The Lord of the Rings (and for better or worse, I didn’t have to Google them before writing that sentence; I even spelled them correctly from memory) as the virtue and power of the Numenorians waned in Middle Earth. And not surprisingly, given Tolkien’s scholarly background in Anglo-Saxon history.

Instead a miracle happened hardly less improbable than the victory of the good guys in Tolkien’s epic. Which again is not surprising given Tolkien’s metaphysics. But as we celebrate the great heroes like Alfred and the great villains like the other Aethelred boo hiss, we should also remember those valiant figures like the first Aethelred or, fictionally, Theodred, who fight a valiant losing battle that helps, in however small a way, to buy time and space for the unlikely great victories to follow.

They are no less noble for having been less fortunate, and nobody can know when they dare draw sword against a mighty foe whether they will be Alfred the Great or Aethelred the Forgotten. Nor should they weigh the matter long when duty calls.

Wrapping up 2016 and looking forward to 2017, a word of thanks to all those who made our documentary work possible in the past year.

John Ivison has a good piece in today's National Post about the Liberals' hollow "consultation process" on abolishing the voting system we've used since the common people were first admitted to Parliament, in favour of one that will make them almost impossible to beat. And if you're worried about this change and the undemocratic, arguably unconstitutional way it's likely to happen, and live in the Ottawa area, you might want to attend the MY VOTE MATTERS Ottawa event this evening at the Ukrainian Community Centre (1000 Byron) from 6:00 to 7:30 and share your concerns.

In my latest National Post column I say the European Union ordering Ireland to make a tax lunge at Apple shows the wisdom of the Brexit... and maybe not just for the UK.

The Daily Telegraph reports a warning from Swedish Prime Minister Stefan Loefven that if Britain cuts corporate taxes it will make its discussions with the European Union over a Brexit "more difficult." He insists that his own country will keep taxing heavily and spending (no, sorry, "investing") because "Tax cuts are not the future." Dude, the whole point of the Brexit is that Britain won't have to keep implementing bad policy because European politicians condescendingly tell them to. It's even odd that Loefven believes the EU has leverage to dictate policy to a member whose citizens have voted to leave, let alone that threatening to will make them less determined to get away from such things.

Oh, and while I'm on the subject, the Telegraph also notes (you have to read down a bit in the story) that, as if deliberately seeking further to persuade Britons that the Brexit vote was a good idea, European Commission president Jean-Claude Juncker wants all EU members to open their borders entirely in a gesture of solidarity with the refugees now causing EU members to tighten border controls. Juncker went so far as to say "Borders are the worst invention ever made by politicians" which is a mind-boggling fatuity given the horrors governments have inflicted on people from tax rates over 100% to concentration camps. I know, I know, you're not meant to end every discussion by invoking Hitler. But in this case Juncker's claim invites the retort from Bertrand de Jouvenel that, as Milton Friedman recounts it, "said he had always been an ardent advocate of world government until the day he crossed the border into Switzerland ahead of the pursuing Nazis."

Borders exist to protect people from the excesses of big government, from the petty to the ghastly. And Britain is correct to assert within its own the right to have tax policy that favours private initiative over a smothering state.

Hence the Brexit. Obviously.