CHAP. VI.
Of Athelstan, the son of Edward. [A.D. 924–940.]
[A.D. 927.] ATHELSTAN.
In the year of our Lord’s incarnation 924, Athelstan, the son of Edward, began to reign, and held the sovereignty sixteen years. His brother, Ethelward, dying a few days after his father, had been buried with him at Winchester. At this place, therefore, Athelstan, being elected king by the unanimous consent of the nobility, he was crowned at a royal town, which is called Kingston; though one Elfred, whose death we shall hereafter relate in the words of the king, with his factious party, as sedition never wants adherents, attempted to prevent it. The ground of his opposition, as they affirm, was, that Athelstan was born of a concubine. But having nothing ignoble in him, except this stain, if after all it be true, he cast all his predecessors into the shade by his piety, as well as the glory of all their triumphs, by the splendour of his own. So much more excellent is it to have that for which we are renowned inherent, than derived from our ancestors; because the former is exclusively our own, the latter is imputable to others. I forbear relating how many new and magnificent monasteries he founded; but I will not conceal that there was scarcely an old one in England which he did not embellish, either with buildings, or ornaments, or books, or possessions. Thus he ennobled the new ones expressly, but the old, as though they were only casual objects of his kindness. With Sihtric, king of the Northumbrians, who married, as I have before said, one of his sisters, he made a lasting covenant; he dying after a year, Athelstan took that province under his own government, expelling one Aldulph, who resisted him. And as a noble mind, when once roused, aspires to greater things, he compelled Jothwel, king of all the Welsh, and Constantine, king of the Scots, to quit their kingdoms; but not long after, moved with commiseration, he restored them to their original state, that they might reign under him, saying, “it was more glorious to make than to be a king.” His last contest was with Anlaf, 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 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 Bruneford[163] 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. 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; 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 advancing, well prepared, at night, put to death, together with the whole of his followers, a certain bishop,[164] 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.
Concerning this king a strong persuasion is prevalent among the English, that one more just or learned never governed the kingdom. That he was versed in literature, I discovered a few days since, in a certain old volume, wherein the writer struggles with the difficulty of the task, unable to express his meaning as he wished. Indeed I would subjoin his words for brevity’s sake, were they not extravagant beyond belief in the praises of the king, and just in that style of writing which Cicero, the prince of Roman eloquence, in his book on Rhetoric, denominates “bombast.” The custom of that time excuses the diction, and the affection for Athelstan, who was yet living, gave countenance to the excess of praise. I shall subjoin, therefore, in familiar language, some few circumstances which may tend to augment his reputation.
[A.D. 924.] ATHELSTAN.
King Edward, after many noble exploits, both in war and peace, a few days before his death subdued the contumacy of the city of Chester, which was rebelling in confederacy with the Britons; and placing a garrison there, he fell sick and died at Faringdon, and was buried, as I before related, at Winchester. Athelstan, as his father had commanded in his will, was then hailed king, recommended by his years,—for he was now thirty,—and the maturity of his wisdom. For even his 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 knight[165] 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 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.
[A.D. 926.] ATHELSTAN.