The First King of England is a foundational biography of Æthelstan (d. 939), the early medieval king whose territorial conquests and shrewd statesmanship united the peoples, languages, and cultures that would come to be known as the “kingdom of the English.” In this panoramic work, David Woodman blends masterful storytelling with the latest scholarship to paint a multifaceted portrait of this immensely important but neglected figure, a man celebrated in his day as much for his benevolence, piety, and love of learning as he was for his ambitious reign.
Why did you want to write a book about Æthelstan, the first king of England?
David Woodman: Some twenty-five years ago I first read properly about Æthelstan (d. 939) as part of my undergraduate studies. When I understood how interesting and formative his reign had been, and that he was England’s founding father, I was amazed that he was not better known, and that I had not heard about him while at school. Two other kings of early medieval England—Alfred the Great (d. 899) and Æthelred Unræd (‘the Unready’; d. 1016)—have lived on in the popular consciousness in a way that Æthelstan has not. Since my early study of Æthelstan, I have always thought that the year in which he first formed England (927) should be as well known as 1066, the date when England was conquered by the Normans.
What are the challenges in writing a biography of Æthelstan?
DW: Many! Perhaps the most obvious difficulty is the nature of the source material that has survived, which is patchy and written from particular perspectives. The major contemporary narrative text, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, falls relatively silent for Æthelstan’s reign (apart from its insertion of the Battle of Brunanburh poem in its annal for 937), and there was no contemporary biographical account written about him – or at least none that has survived. This means that it is impossible to write a modern biography of Æthelstan in the usual chronological format: there are too many holes that cannot be filled. But if we divide his life into its major themes—the history of the early English kingdoms just before he acceded; his time as king and his formation of England; the ways in which he ruled and his relations with the church; his dealings with the other kingdoms of Britain, and then also with Europe; and his death and legacy—then it becomes possible to offer a very full and vivid account of what was taking place.
Another challenge for the biographer is in saying anything of substance about Æthelstan’s own character. The most extended account we have of the king can be found in the early twelfth-century work of a monk named William of Malmesbury. The nature of William’s writings, which are sometimes embellished and anachronistic, and the fact that he was working some two hundred years after Æthelstan’s reign, have made it hard to know whether or not we can straightforwardly accept the details he provides. And when he does comment on Æthelstan the man, the details are so generic that they are of little value. Fortunately, though, we possess a range of early tenth-century royal documents, such as diplomas (grants of land by the king to various institutions and individuals) and law-codes, and also a variety of artefacts, notably coins minted in the king’s name. From these texts and objects, a great deal can be said about Æthelstan’s royal policies and ambitions, and the actions that he took while on the throne. What emerges is a king who was ruthlessly ambitious and harnessed the rhetorical properties of his royal documents in strikingly new ways
How and when did Æthelstan first form England?
DW: Æthelstan had first become king in 924 on the death of his father, Edward the Elder. There is evidence that his accession had been contested. Possibly because of the difficulties involved in establishing himself, he was not formally crowned king until 4 September 925, in a ceremony at Kingston-upon-Thames. Only some two years later, in 927, the viking king in York, Sihtric Cáech (the ‘One-Eyed’), died. This presented Æthelstan with an opportunity to extend his power northwards, which he was quick to take. When writing in the early twelfth century, William of Malmesbury notes that Æthelstan had had to raze the viking fortress at York to the ground in order to secure his authority there. Once York had been taken, Æthelstan proceeded further north to Eamont Bridge, about a mile south of modern Penrith, where, on 12 July, he received the submission of other British kings and rulers: that is, of two kings from Welsh territories; of the king of the Scots; of the king of a north-western kingdom known as Strathclyde/Cumbria; and of a Northumbrian ruler. The region had been carefully chosen for a number of reasons. Firstly, because it was where various Roman roads coming from the north, the south and the west all converged, which enabled easy access for all involved. Secondly, because there were important ancient sites in close proximity which included, King Arthur’s Round Table Henge, Mayburgh Henge, the Roman fort Brocavum and an early church at nearby Dacre. And thirdly, because it was an area where the Rivers Lowther and Eamont flowed together, as indicated by the original Old English place name, æt Eamont, which can be translated literally as ‘at the meeting of the rivers’. The region was therefore rich in topographical significance, with sites that conveyed messages of ancient power, and natural features that stressed unity.
These were the events that led to the creation of an ‘England’ of a recognizable geographical and political shape. The magnitude of what had happened was not lost on contemporaries. Æthelstan had with him in his entourage at Eamont Bridge a poet who wrote some verses which were sent south to the royal household at Winchester to announce what had taken place. The poet describes how ‘the Saxon-land [i.e. England]’ was now ‘made whole’ (ista perfecta Saxonia, in Latin) and how Æthelstan is ‘glorious through his deeds!’ (per facta gloriosus!). And soon after 927, Æthelstan starts to deploy a new royal title in his diplomas and on his coins. He becomes the rex Anglorum (‘king of the English’), and at times even claims to be the rex totius Britanniae (‘king of all Britain’), too. Ideas of a single ‘English’ people had been discussed at the court of Æthelstan’s grandfather, Alfred the Great, and in fact had a history that went back to the times of Bede in the early eighth century. But no king before Æthelstan had managed to form the ‘kingdom of the English’ itself.
How widely did Æthelstan’s influence spread?
DW: Once Æthelstan had formed the ‘kingdom of the English’ in 927, he was keen to assert his authority. We know that a number of Welsh kings, and a king from Strathclyde/Cumbria, were on occasion required to attend Æthelstan’s royal assemblies in the south of English territory, and he is said also to have imposed a hefty annual tax on the Welsh people. In 934 Æthelstan marched northwards and conducted a campaign of war in the kingdom of the Scots (known in the early tenth century as ‘Alba’). After that military activity, the then king of the Scots, Constantine II, was also required to attend some of Æthelstan’s assemblies in the south. It is difficult to know what the relations between Æthelstan and these British rulers really involved, and how much authority Æthelstan could actually have wielded in, say, Welsh or Scottish lands. Some indication of the way that English rule was received is provided by a remarkable Welsh poem known as Armes Prydein Vawr, the ‘Great Prophecy of Britain’. The poem is difficult to date, but it plausibly belongs to Æthelstan’s reign. It contains chilling messages about Welsh ambitions to slaughter the English and drive them out of Britain, giving at least some indication of the way one member of the Welsh felt about English expansionism.
Æthelstan was also able to have influence on contemporary Europe. His father, Edward, had been married three times in total, which meant that Æthelstan had numerous half-sisters (and brothers). Some of his half-sisters were deployed into strategic marriage alliances, for example Eadgifu with Charles the Simple, king of the West Franks, Eadhild with Hugh the Great, duke of the Franks, Eadgyth with Otto the Great, king of the East Franks (and later emperor), and a further sister (either named Ælfgifu or Eadgifu) with the brother of King Rudolf II of Burgundy. Thanks to these marriages, Æthelstan was closely connected to many of the most important European ruling houses of the day, at a time when Europe itself was experiencing great political changes. And, at the same time as Æthelstan was gaining influence in Europe, some important European figures sought out Æthelstan’s court as a place where support could be acquired. Alan Barbetorte (‘Crooked Beard’), for example, was brought up at Æthelstan’s court and in 936 asserted his claim to rule in Brittany with the support of the English king.
Are there any significant anniversaries coming up that are connected to Æthelstan’s reign?
DW: There are two major anniversaries looming. The first is on 4 September 2025, which will be the 1100th anniversary of the date on which Æthelstan was formally crowned king at Kingston-upon-Thames. There are plans for celebrations of Æthelstan that will take place at Kingston that day, including the dedication of a train in his name. And the second will be in July 2027, to mark the 1100th anniversary of his creation of England. I know that various ideas for how best to commemorate this occasion are currently being formulated, including events that will take place in Eamont Bridge, where Æthelstan had been able to gain the submission of various British and Northumbrian rulers. I hope that the date 927 becomes as well known as 1066, and that more people learn about Æthelstan’s reign.
Were there threats to his rule?
DW: Æthelstan had to deal with many threats to his position (some of which probably went unrecorded). The most famous took place in 937 when a coalition made up of a viking leader (Óláf Guthfrithson), the king of Scots (Constantine II), and the king of Strathclyde/Cumbria, (Owain), fought Æthelstan in battle at an unidentified site named in Old English as Brunanburh. Æthelstan, helped by his half-brother, Edmund, was victorious and slaughtered many of his enemies. That this episode posed a serious risk to Æthelstan and his rule, is made clear from the way in which it is recorded in surviving sources. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle breaks its normally laconic style by inserting a long and celebrated poem to commemorate the occasion. And the battle and its outcome are registered in sources written in Wales, Ireland, Scotland and Scandinavia. It becomes clear that Æthelstan’s England had been on the line in 937 and that his victory had been pivotal.
What is Æthelstan’s legacy?
DW: Of course, Æthelstan’s principal legacy is his creation of England in 927. When he died over a decade later in 939, the English kingdom fragmented once more and a viking—Óláf Guthfrithson, the man who had previously challenged Æthelstan at Brunanburh—took power in York in Æthelstan’s place. At that stage it must have been unclear whether Æthelstan’s ‘England’ would ever again be formed. But it becomes apparent that Æthelstan had provided a potent blueprint and one from which future kings of the West Saxon line would build, notably a king named Edgar pacificus (‘the peacemaker’; d. 975). In order to solidify his position as ‘king of the English’, Æthelstan relied in part on brute force and military might. It is perhaps rather surprising, then, to realise that another part of his legacy involves his sponsorship of learning, culture and Christianity. He seems to have been a deeply pious individual, one who encouraged the exchange of ideas and learning at his court. It was there that one of the earliest English interactions with the game of chess took place, itself of Indian origins. Æthelstan was also an impressive administrator: the diplomas produced in his name in the period 928 to 935 are the most extraordinary from the entire early medieval English period. Written in highly elaborate and learned Latin prose, the diploma form had never before been harnessed to send such potent political messages: not only was Æthelstan demonstrating that he was a uniquely powerful king, but he was also highlighting the cultural advances that were taking place at his court.
About the Author
David Woodman is Professor and Fellow in History at Robinson College, University of Cambridge. His books include Edward the Confessor: The Sainted King and The Chronicle of John of Worcester, Volume IV: “Chronicula.” X: @DavidWoodman45 Bluesky: @davidwoodman45.bsky.social