Chronicle of English Kings Book 2 Chapter 6. 04 Sep 925For even his [Athelstan's (age 31)] grandfather Alfred, seeing and embracing him affectionately when he was a boy of astonishing beauty and graceful manners, had most devoutly prayed that his government might be prosperous: indeed, he had made him a knight¹⁶⁵ unusually early, giving him a scarlet cloak, a belt studded with diamonds, and a Saxon sword with a golden scabbard. Next he had provided that he should be educated in the court of [his aunt] Ethelfled his daughter, and of his son-in-law Ethered; so that, having been brought up in expectation of succeeding to the kingdom, by the tender care of his aunt and of this celebrated prince, he repressed and destroyed all envy by the lustre of his good qualities; and, after the death of his father, and decease of his brother, he was crowned at Kingston. Hence, to celebrate such splendid events, and the joy of that illustrious day, the poet justly exclaims:

Of royal race a noble stem

Hath chased our darkness like a gem.

Great Athelstan, his country’s pride,

Whose virtue never turns aside;

Sent by his father to the schools,

Patient, he bore their rigid rules,

And drinking deep of science mild,

Passed his first years unlike a child.

Next clothed in youth’s bewitching charms,

Studied the harsher lore of arms,

Which soon confessed his knowledge keen,

As after in the sovereign seen.

Soon as his father, good and great,

Yielded, though ever famed, to fate,

The youth was called the realm to guide,

And, like his parent, well preside.

The nobles meet, the crown present,

On rebels, prelates curses vent;

The people light the festive fires,

And show by turns their kind desires.

Their deeds their loyalty declare,

Though hopes and fears their bosoms share.

With festive treat the court abounds;

Foams the brisk wine, the hall resounds:

The pages run, the servants haste,

And food and verse regale the taste.

The minstrels sing, the guests commend,

Whilst all in praise to Christ contend.

The king with pleasure all things sees,

And all his kind attentions please.

Note 165. This passage is thought to prove the existence of knights as a distinct order among the Saxons; and, coupled with the case of Hereward, it has very much that air. See Mr. Turner’s Anglo-Saxons, 4, 171, et inf. But perhaps in the present instance, it may amount to nothing more than bestowing his first arms on him. Lewis the Debonnaire received his arms, "ense accinctus est,” [he was girded wth a sword] at thirteen years old.—Duchesne, t. ii. 289.

Chronicle of English Kings Book 2 Chapter 6. 937. His last contest was with Anlaf (age 10), the son of Sihtric, who, with the before-named Constantine, again in a state of rebellion, had entered his territories under the hope of gaining the kingdom. Athelstan (age 43) purposely retreating, that he might derive greater honour from vanquishing his furious assailants, this bold youth, meditating unlawful conquests, had now proceeded far into England, when he was opposed at Bruneford¹⁶³ by the most experienced generals, and most valiant forces. Perceiving, at length, what danger hung over him, he assumed the character of a spy. Laying aside his royal ensigns, and taking a harp in his hand, he proceeded to our king’s tent: singing before the entrance, and at times touching the trembling strings in harmonious cadence, he was readily admitted, professing himself a minstrel, who procured his daily sustenance by such employment. Here he entertained the king and his companions for some time with his musical performance, carefully examining everything while occupied in singing. When satiety of eating had put an end to their sensual enjoyments, and the business of war was resumed among the nobles, he was ordered to depart, and received the recompence of his song; but disdaining to take it away, he hid it beneath him in the earth. This circumstance was remarked by a person, who had formerly served under him, and immediately related it to Athelstan (age 43). The king, blaming him extremely for not having detected his enemy as he stood before them, received this answer: "The same oath, which I have lately sworn to you, O king, I formerly made to Anlaf (age 10); and had you seen me violate it towards him, you might have expected similar perfidy towards yourself: but condescend to listen to the advice of your servant, which is, that you should remove your tent hence, and remaining in another place till the residue of the army come up, you will destroy your ferocious enemy by a moderate delay.” Approving this admonition, he removed to another place. Anlaf (age 10) advancing, well prepared, at night, put to death, together with the whole of his followers, a certain bishop¹⁶⁴, who had joined the army only the evening before, and, ignorant of what had passed, had pitched his tent there on account of the level turf. Proceeding farther, he found the king himself equally unprepared; who, little expecting his enemy capable of such an attack, had indulged in profound repose. But, when roused from his sleep by the excessive tumult, and urging his people, as much as the darkness of the night would permit, to the conflict, his sword fell by chance from the sheath; upon which, while all things were filled with dread and blind confusion, he invoked the protection of God and of St. Aldhelm, who was distantly related to him; and replacing his hand upon the scabbard, he there found a sword, which is kept to this day, on account of the miracle, in the treasury of the kings. Moreover, it is, as they say, chased in one part, but can never be inlaid either with gold or silver. Confiding in this divine present, and at the same time, as it began to dawn, attacking the Norwegian, he continued the battle unwearied through the day, and put him to flight with his whole army. There fell Constantine, king of the Scots, a man of treacherous energy and vigorous old age; five other kings, twelve earls, and almost the whole assemblage of barbarians. The few who escaped were preserved to embrace the faith of Christ.

Note 163. In the Saxon Chronicle it is called Brumby [Map]. [See Chronicles of the Anglo-Saxons, in Bohn’s Antiquarian Library, pp. 376, 377.] Its site is not exactly known, but it was probably not far from the Humber.

Note 164. Said to be Werstan, bishop of Sherborne. See Malmesbury’s Gesta Pontificum; or, Lives of the Bishops, to be hereafter translated and published in this series.

Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. 938. Here Athelstan king (age 44), of earls the lord, rewarder of heroes, and his brother eke, Edmund atheling, elder of ancient race, slew in the fight, with the edge of their swords, the foe at Brumby! The [his half-brother] sons (age 17) of Edward their board-walls clove, and hewed their banners, with the wrecks of their hammers. So were they taught by kindred zeal, that they at camp oft 'gainst any robber their land should defend, their hoards and homes. Pursuing fell the Scottish clans; the men of the fleet in numbers fell; 'midst the din of the field the warrior swate. Since the sun was up in morning-tide, gigantic light! glad over grounds, God's candle bright, eternal Lord!- 'till the noble creature sat in the western main: there lay many of the Northern heroes under a shower of arrows, shot over shields; and Scotland's boast, a Scythian race, the mighty seed of Mars! With chosen troops, throughout the day, the West-Saxons fierce press'd on the loathed bands; hew'd down the fugitives, and scatter'd the rear, with strong mill-sharpen'd blades, The Mercians too the hard hand-play spared not to any of those that with Anlaf over the briny deep in the ship's bosom sought this land for the hardy fight. Five kings lay on the field of battle, in bloom of youth, pierced with swords. So seven eke of the earls of Anlaf; and of the ship's-crew unnumber'd crowds. There was dispersed the little band of hardy Scots, the dread of northern hordes; urged to the noisy deep by unrelenting fate! The king of the fleet with his slender craft escaped with his life on the felon flood;- and so too Constantine, the valiant chief, returned to the north in hasty flight. The hoary Hildrinc cared not to boast among his kindred. Here was his remnant of relations and friends slain with the sword in the crowded fight. His son too he left on the field of battle, mangled with wounds, young at the fight. The fair-hair'd youth had no reason to boast of the slaughtering strife. Nor old Inwood and Anlaf the more with the wrecks of their army could laugh and say, that they on the field of stern command better workmen were, in the conflict of banners, the clash of spears, the meeting of heroes, and the rustling of weapons, which they on the field of slaughter played with the sons of Edward. The northmen sail'd in their nailed ships, a dreary remnant, on the roaring sea; over deep water Dublin [Map] they sought, and Ireland's shores, in great disgrace. Such then the brothers both together king and atheling, sought their country, West-Saxon land, in right triumphant. They left behind them raw to devour, the sallow kite, the swarthy raven with horny nib, and the hoarse vultur, with the eagle swift to consume his prey; the greedy gos-hawk, and that grey beast the wolf of the weald. No slaughter yet was greater made e'er in this island, of people slain, before this same, with the edge of the sword; as the books inform us of the old historians; since hither came from the eastern shores the Angles and Saxons, over the broad sea, and Britain sought,- fierce battle-smiths, o'ercame the Welsh, most valiant earls, and gained the land.