It is said that Alfred had known that, one day, his grandson would be king and that he had cloaked the child in scarlet and then invested him with the Royal Saxon sword with a golden hilt, the symbol of regal dignity. Athelstan was the first King of Wessex who was truly part of the Mercian aristocracy. His father wasn’t. Certainly Alfred the Great wasn’t. So Athelstan held a unique position, one of great respect, when he joined with Mercians against Northumbria – still known as Danelaw and still an alien territory to the southern kingdom. Sensibly and with the style of the times, Athelstan began his reign by seeking accord with the Danelaw leaders. That way of peace was never likely and in 926 Athelstan marched on Yorkshire. Rapidly, Northumbria, the monarchs of Strathclyde and the Scots and even the Welsh princes agreed Athelstan to be their lord. Once more, peace was unreal and uneasy truce likely.
Ten years earlier, Athelstan had defeated the late father of King Olaf of Dublin. Now, in AD 937, Olaf sought revenge. Thus he gathered the Vikings and Celts, including Scots (led by Constantine, King of the Scots) and Strathclyde Britons, into a motley alliance of Christian and pagan forces. It was a bloody affair even by the standards of the bloody day. Olaf’s armies lost five kings and seven earls; any hope that the Celts may have had of ridding the British Isles of Saxons lay silent with them. It is called the Battle of Brunanburh but where the battle took place is unknown. One strong claimant is Brinkburn in Northumberland. What we do know is that it inspired Brunanburh, the first epic verse in our language – Saxon English – in 937:
Her Aethelstan cyning, eorla dryhten,
In this year King Aethelstan, Lord of warriors,
beorna beag-giefa, and his brothor eac,
ring-giver to men, and his brother also,
Eadmund aetheling, ealdor-langetir
Prince Eadmund, won eternal glory
geslogon aet saecce sweorda ecgun
in battle with sword edges
ymbe Brunanburh. Bord-weall clufon,
around Brunanburh. They split the shield-wall,
heowon heathu-linde hamora lafum
they hewed battle shields with the remnants of hammers.
eaforan Eadweardes, swa him ge-aethele waes
The sons of Eadweard, it was only befitting their noble
fram cneo-magnum thaet hie aet campe oft
descent from their ancestors that they should often
with lathra gehwone land ealgodon,
defend their land in battle against each hostile people,
hord and hamas. Hettend crungon,
horde and home. The enemy perished,
Scotta leode and scip-flotan,
Scots men and seamen,
faege feollon. Feld dennode
fated they fell. The field flowed
secga swate sithan sunne upp
with blood of warriors, from sun up
on morgen-tid, maere tungol,
in the morning, when the glorious star
glad ofer grundas, Godes candel beorht,
glided over the earth, God’s bright candle,
eces Dryhtnes, oth seo aethele gesceaft
eternal lord, till that noble creation
sag to setle. Thaer laeg secg manig
sank to its seat. There lay many a warrior
garum agieted, guma Northerna
by spears destroyed; Northern men
ofer scield scoten, swelce Scyttisc eac,
shot over shield, likewise Scottish as well,
weary, war sated.
West-Seaxe forth
The West-Saxons pushed onward
andlange daeg eorod-cystum
all day; in troops
on last legdon lathum theodum,
they pursued the hostile people.
heowon here-flieman hindan thearle
They hewed the fugitive grievously from behind
mecum mylen-scearpum. Mierce ne wierndon
with swords sharp from the grinding. The Mercians did
heardes hand-plegan haeletha nanum
not refuse hard hand-play to any warrior
thara-the mid Anlafe ofer ear-gebland
who came with Anlaf over the sea-surge
on lides bosme land gesohton,
in the bosom of a ship, those who sought land,
faege to gefeohte. Fife lagon
fated to fight. Five lay dead
on tham camp-stede cyningas geonge,
on the battle-field, young kings,
sweordum answefede, swelce seofone eac
put to sleep by swords, likewise also seven
eorlas Anlafes, unrim herges,
of Anlaf’s earls, countless of the army,
flotena and Scotta. Thaere gefliemed wearth
sailors and Scots. There the North-men’s chief
North-manna brego, niede gebaeded,
was put to flight, by need constrained
to lides stefne lytle weorode;
to the prow of a ship with little company;
cread cnear on flot, cyning ut gewat
he pressed the ship afloat, the king went out
on fealone flod, feorh generede.
on the dusky flood-tide, he saved his life.
Swelce thaere eac se froda mid fleame com
Likewise, there also the old campaigner through flight
on his cyththe north, Constantinus,
came to his own region in the north--Constantine--
hoary warrior. He had no reason to exult
meca gemanan; he waes his maga sceard,
the great meeting; he was of his kinsmen bereft,
freonda gefielled on folc-stede,
friends fell on the battle-field,
beslaegen aet saecce, and his sunu forlet
killed at strife: even his son, young in battle, he left
on wael-stowe wundum forgrunden,
in the place of slaughter, ground to pieces with wounds.
geongne aet guthe. Gielpan ne thorfte
That grizzle-haired warrior had no
beorn blanden-feax bill-gesliehtes,
reason to boast of sword-slaughter,
eald inwitta, ne Anlaf thy ma;
old deceitful one, no more did Anlaf;
mid hira here-lafum hliehhan ne thorfton
with their remnant of an army they had no reason
thaet hie beadu-weorca beteran wurdon
to laugh that they were better in deed of war
on camp-stede cumbol-gehnastes,
in battle-field--collision of banners,
gar-mittunge, gumena gemotes,
encounter of spears, encounter of men,
waepen-gewrixles, thaes hie on wael-felda
trading of blows--when they played against
with Eadweardes eaforan plegodon.
the sons of Eadweard on the battle-field.
Gewiton him tha North-menn naegled-cnearrum,
Departed then the Northmen in nailed ships.
dreorig darotha laf, on Dinges mere
The dejected survivors of the battle, at Dinges
ofer deop waeter Dyflin secan,
mere sought Dublin over the deep water,
eft lra lang aewisc-mode.
to return to Ireland, ashamed in spirit.
Swelce tha gebrothor begen aetsamne,
Likewise the brothers, both together,
cyning and aetheling, cyththe sohton,
King and Prince, sought their home,
West-Saxon land, exultant from battle.
Leton him behindan hraew bryttian
They left behind them, to enjoy the corpses,
sealwig-padan, thone sweartan hraefn
the dark coated one, the dark horny-beaked
hyrned-nebban, and thone hasu-padan,
raven and the dusky-coated one,
earn aeftan hwit, aeses brucan,-
the eagle white fro
m behind, to partake of carrion,
graedigne guth-hafoc, and thaet graege deor,
greedy war-hawk, and that gray animal
wulf on wealda.
the wolf in the forest.
Ne wearth wael mare
Never was there more slaughter
on thys ig-lande aefre gieta
on this island, never yet as many
folces gefielled beforan thissum
people killed before this
sweordes ecgum, thaes-the us secgath bec,
with sword’s edge: never according to those
eald uthwitan, siththan eastan hider
who tell us from books, old wisemen,
Engle and Seaxe upp becomon,
since from the east Angles and Saxons came up
ofer brad brimu Britene sohton,
over the broad sea. Britain they sought,
wlance wig-smithas, Wealas ofercomon,
Proud war-smiths who overcame the Welsh,
eorlas ar-hwaete eard begeaton.
glorious warriors they took hold of the land.
None now doubted Athelstan’s credentials as a leader of his land and not simply his people. He was styled Rex totius Britanniae. Athelstan was recognized as a true European monarch and not simply an island chief. By marriage and political interest the house of Alfred, his son Edward the Elder, and Athelstan were bound with events in mainland Europe. The first Saxon King of the Germans, Henry the Fowler, had attempted an alliance with Athelstan and it was as a result of this approach that Athelstan’s sister, Edith, married Henry’s eldest son Otto. Thus, England and Germany became tied in all sorts of events, many of which had a direct influence on English ecclesiastical history and the reform of the monastery system. Small points, perhaps, but reminders that history takes its time and does not directly rest on the outcome of battles.
Athelstan died in 939, just two years after Brunanburh. His half-brother, the eighteen-year-old Edmund, lived only for a further six years but in that time put down all tests of his authority and the rule of his late brother’s kingdom. Edmund and his successor Edred protected the legacy of Athelstan, which was a more united kingdom with an organization of courts and councils on a much wider basis. The result was that regional selfishness, while not disappearing, was at least tempered and therefore the unity of the land was more likely. Yet the island was not a Saxon, certainly not an English, entity. The Vikings had arrived more than a century before Athelstan’s death. Their influence had changed, not disappeared. For example, the eastern counties of England had deep-running Danish blood even though that had not yet led to an attempt to usurp the new authority of the Saxon monarchy. But the Vikings had not renounced all claims on violent intrusion.
There now appeared the most fearsome Viking leader. And he had the name to go with it: Eric Bloodaxe. He was Norwegian and had been the king in his homeland until he was deposed and did what many of his luckless predecessors had done: sailed for England and the Northumbrian coast where his Viking countrymen lived, and where there was a desire to kick out the Saxons and join the Vikings who lived in Dublin to establish one big Viking state.
The Northumbrian Vikings welcomed Eric. King Edred, Alfred the Great’s grandson and a chip off the Saxon block, did not. Edred fought and burned his way through the region and, instead of fighting Eric Bloodaxe, threatened the Northumbrians with earthly damnation. He meant to kill them all and burn their towns. So, the Northumbrians turned against Eric. But Eric Bloodaxe returned with stronger forces and once again called himself King. And for a time it worked. But Eric Bloodaxe was killed with his son and his brother at the Battle of Stainmore, on the heights overlooking what is now called Edendale. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle dismisses it in a single entry: ‘AD 954: In this year the Northumbrians drove out Eric, and Eadred succeeded to the Northumbrian kingdom.’
It is true that Eric Bloodaxe had united the Vikings of Dublin and York, but he had failed to establish a kingdom that could rival the English. After he died it was no longer possible for a single invader, no matter how strong and resourceful, to begin a completely new dynasty to rule England. In 955, a twelve-year-old boy, Edgar, became King of Mercia. His brother, Eadwig (sometimes, Edwy), was about three years older and he became King of Wessex. Wessex was the senior kingdom in England. But Eadwig died a couple of years later and Edgar, only just into his teens, also became King of Wessex, Mercia and Northumberland. Edgar’s coronation was the first to have a written Order of Service, and it is the basis of the one used today. Edgar’s reign was not the record of slaughter and gore normally associated with kings of this period. One of the finest historians of the Saxons, Sir Frank Stenton, noted that ‘It is a sign of Edgar’s competence as a ruler that his reign is singularly devoid of recorded incident.’14 It is true also that he was never called upon to defend his people against intruders nor uprisings. Edgar’s reign was one of peaceful rebuilding of the sometimes very vulnerable mix of societies and defending the peaceful State that his immediate ancestors had fought so hard for. And he would be remembered for the way in which he supported the new cultural identity of the State, particularly in the way of English monastic life.