Chapter 5. The Æthelredian Fragment of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and the Personality of its Author

Zoya Metlitskaya

The so-called Æthelredian Fragment of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, namely the set of entries for 993–1016 which is contained, with minor variations, in the Chronicle manuscripts CDEF, has been studied from different perspectives by many eminent scholars, among them Simon Keynes, Nicholas Brooks, Cecily Clark, and Jonathan Wilcox. No agreement between them has emerged as to the personality of the Fragment’s author, or of his social and political standing or local connections. Long ago Charles Plummer suggested that the entries for 993–1016 were originally written at Canterbury, although, in his words, “the indications are not very sure.”¹ Sir Frank Stenton named the author of the Æthelredian Fragment the “monk of Abingdon.”² Keynes, in his groundbreaking essay “The Declining Reputation of King Æthelred the Unready,” which ought to be the starting point for every discussion on this topic, demonstrated that the author wrote the entries not year by year, as Stenton supposed,³ but in one sitting, presumably in 1016×1023, and more probably early in this period. In Keynes’s opinion the author was a Londoner and had hardly any connections with the king’s court.⁴ Brooks put forward an alternative hypothesis: that the Æthelredian Fragment was written in ca. 1022 by a priest from the king’s household who was then in Cnut’s service.⁵ Notwithstanding the plausibility of these arguments, questions remain concerning the personality of the author of the Fragment. This chapter will draw attention to certain features of the text with a view to providing additional arguments on the question.

Let us begin with the vocabulary of the text. Cecily Clark observes that the vocabulary of the Æthelredian Fragment “comes from a wider range of registers”⁶ than the earlier entries and that it contains some borrowings from poetic language; she also notes that “the speculative turn gives the narrative new depth.”⁷ Keeping in mind these ideas, it would be useful to look not only at the differences, but also at the similarities between the Fragment and the earlier entries in the Chronicle. It is worth noting that the author’s vocabulary contains some borrowings from the Chronicle’s entries of the end of the ninth century. As Jacqueline Stodnick has pointed out, the text of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle includes some “formulas” which were used for describing repeated situations and events.⁸ For example, she notes the consistent use of the formula “[name] forðferde and … [other name] feng to rice (or biscopdome)” to describe the succession of secular as well as of religious leaders, including kings, bishops, and archbishops.⁹

As might be seen from the quotations presented below (in my Appendix 1), the author of the Æthelredian Fragment used some formulas from the “Alfredian Chronicle.”¹⁰ In the entries for 998 and 1016 we find the formula “sige ahte” (had the victory) or its variant “sige nam” (took the victory), which appears eleven times in the “common stock” (that is, in annals 800, 823, 837, 845, 853, 854, 871, 872, 886, 891, 894). In the entries for 992 and 1001 we see the formula “micel wæl ofslogon” (there was great slaughter); its variant “micel wæl (ge)feol” (great slaughter befell) appears in the entries 1004 and 1016; both of them occur in the “Alfredian Chronicle” (592, 823, 833, 837, 839, 845, 853, 868, 872 (twice)). In the entries 999 and 1010 the formula “ahton wælstowe geweald” (had the possession of the place of slaughter) is used, which is present seven times in the “Alfredian Chronicle” (833, 837, 839, 845, 853 (twice), 868 and 872 (twice)).

It is worth noting that in the earlier part of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle the formula “ahton wælstowe geweald” is used only in the descriptions of severe battles, those in which the Anglo-Saxons were defeated. It does not seem coincidental that in the Æthelredian Fragment this formula occurs only in connection with two steadfast, albeit unsuccessful, efforts of the Anglo-Saxons to withstand the enemy: in Kent in 999 and in Cambridgeshire in 1010. In the Peterborough entry for 999 we read:

Her com se here eft abutan into Temese ⁊ wendon þa up andlang Medewægan ⁊ to Hrofeceastre, ⁊ com þa seo centisce fyrde þær ongean, ⁊ hi þær fæste togedere fengon, ac wala þet hi to hraðe bugon ⁊ flugon forþam þe hi næfdon fultum þhi habban sceoldan. Þa Deniscan ahton wælstowe geweald, ⁊ namon þa hors ⁊ ridan swa wider swa hi woldon sylf ⁊ fornæh ealle Weastcentingas fordydon ⁊ forheregodon.¹¹

[Here the raiding-army again came round into the Thames, and then turned up along the Medway to Rochester. And then the Kentish army came against them, and there they determinedly joined battle; but alas! they too quickly submitted and fled, because they did not have the help they should have had; then the Danes had possession of the place of slaughter and took horses and rode as widely as they themselves wanted, and destroyed and plundered well nigh all the men of West Kent.]¹²

In the entry for 1010:

Þone fleam ærest astealde Þurcytel Myranheafod, ⁊ þa Dæniscan ahton wælstowe geweald ⁊ þær wurdon gehorsode ⁊ syþþan ahton Eastengle geweald, ⁊ þone eard .iii. monþas hergodon ⁊ bærndon.¹³

[It was Thurcytel Mare’s-Head that first started the flight, and the Danes had possession of the place of slaughter, and then were horsed and thereafter had possession of East Anglia, and for three months raided and burned that country.]¹⁴

This phrasing may be compared, for example, with the Winchester entry for 837:

⁊ þy ilcan geare gefeaht Æþelhelm dux wið deniscne here on Port mid Dornsætun ⁊ gode hwile þone here gefliemde, ⁊ þa Deniscan ahton wælstowe geweald ⁊ þone aldormon ofslogan.¹⁵

[And the same year Ealdorman Æthelhelm fought against a Danish raiding-army on Portland with the Dorset men, and for a good while they put the raiding-army to flight – and the Danes had possession of the place of slaughter and killed the ealdorman.]¹⁶

The author of the Æthelredian Fragment also uses the collocation “se here” to describe the Vikings’ army, the same appellative as was used in the “Alfredian Chronicle.” What these features probably imply is that the author of the Æthelredian Fragment was well acquainted with the previous text of the Chronicle. Moreover, he knew it well enough to manipulate quotations from the “Alfredian Chronicle” with a certain irony, in order to achieve his own aims.

Thus, while describing yet another failed effort to fight the Vikings in the entry for 1009 (CD), the author takes the “positive” formula “sige nam” and inverts it: “næs se sige na betera þe eall angelcynn to hopode” (that victory which all England hoped for was never better [than this]).¹⁷ In the Peterborough manuscript (E) we read, “næs se ege na betera þe eall Angelcynn tohopode” (that terror which all England hoped for was never better [than this]).¹⁸ This phrase seems not without sense, but it is less expressive or meaningful than the text in versions CD, presumably because the scribe of E, who copied his text in the 1120s, did not understand the irony of its contemporary author.

In the Peterborough entry for 1014 the author writes of the decision of the king’s councilors to summon Æthelred, who had fled to Normandy, asking him to return:

Þa geræddan þa witan ealle, ge hadode ge læwede, þet man æfter þam cyninge Æþelrede sende, ⁊ cwædon þet him nan hlaford leofra nære þonne hiora gecynda hlaford gif he hi rihtlicor healdan wolde þonne he ær dyde.¹⁹

[Then all the councilors, both ordained and lay, advised that the king Æthelred should be sent for and declared that no lord was dearer to them than their natural lord, if he would govern them more justly than he did before.]²⁰

It is interesting that the first part of the phrase repeats almost word for word the phrase from the story of Cynewulf and Cyneheard, which, though of 786, is contained in the annal for 755. In this story, when Cynewulf’s rival and slayer addresses the followers of the murdered king with a new proposition, they reject him bravely as follows:

⁊ þa gebead he him hiera agenne dom feos ⁊ londes gif hie him þæs rices uþon, ⁊ him cyðdon þæt hiera mægas him mid wæron þa þe him from noldon, ⁊ þa cwædon hie þæt him nænig mæg leofra nære ðonne hiera hlaford ⁊ hie næfre his banan folgian noldon.²¹

[And then he offered them their own choice of money and land if they would grant him the kingdom, and told them that relatives of theirs were with him who did not want to leave him; and then they said that no relative was dearer to them than their lord, and they would never follow his slayer.]²²

It might thus be reasonable to suppose that the author of the Æthelredian Fragment intentionally presents the address of the witan as a reminiscence of the heroic speech of the warriors of an earlier epoch. If so, his aim was surely to make an ironic contrast with the following clause, in which the warriors ask the king to govern more justly than before, since this clause is incompatible with the kingship that would justify heroic ideals of loyalty to one’s lord.

To clarify further the personality of the author of the Æthelredian Fragment, it may be instructive to examine the list of persons he mentions in different contexts (see Appendix 2). As a rule, the persons mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle are identified in some way by the authors of the entries in which their names occur. The common practice is the identification through name and “office”; more rarely, this is by name and ties of kinship. Contrary to this common usage, the author of the Æthelredian Fragment cites a number of people without giving any indication of their standing or family ties. In the entry for 993, he names, without any identification, Fræna, Godwine, and Frithegist, men who have fled from battle with the Vikings. Although we can only guess who they were, it is highly likely that these were persons with northern connections, for just before the description of the battle it is said that the Vikings wrought great harm there both in Lindsey and in Northumbria.²³ Here it may be supposed that Godwine is the same ealdorman Godwine whose death in the battle is reported in the entry for 1016, and who was supposedly ealdorman of Lindsey. Ulfcytel, ealdorman of East Anglia, is mentioned three times by name only, twice in 1004 and once in 1016; only once, in the report of his death in 1016, is he named Ulfcytel of the East Angles. There are also no indications of the standing of Wulfgeat, Wulfeah, and Ufegeat, who were victims of what Keynes has called the “palace revolution” of 1006.²⁴ Another victim of these events was Ælfhelm, whom the author of the Æthelredian Fragment identifies as an ealdorman. According to Keynes, Ælfhelm was made ealdorman of Northumbria (or South Northumbria) in 993.²⁵ According to the not wholly reliable twelfth-century evidence of John of Worcester, Wulfeah and Ufegeat were the sons of Ælfhelm.²⁶ If so, we have a second indication that these were persons with northern connections.

To these names we may add that of Wulfgeat, who, though not blinded like the others, “wæs eall his are of genumen” (was deprived of his honor).²⁷ Keynes, on the basis of the twelfth-century Chronicle of John of Worcester, identifies Wulfgeat with the man whose unjust forfeitures of monastic lands are the subject of charters S 918 (s.a. 1008) and S 934 (s.a. 1015); as well as with the “dilectus minister” (dear retainer) of S 937 (s.a. 999?).²⁸ However, it seems just as likely that Wulfgeat, who witnessed the king’s charters regularly from 986 to 1005, may be identified with the owner of the land in Cambridgeshire to whom reference is made in S 1448 (s.a. 986).²⁹ If this is the case, Wulfgeat was a member of the East Anglian nobility. In the story of the battle of the East Angles with the Vikings in 1010, two further people are mentioned by name only: Oswig, who fell in this battle, and Þurcytel Myranheafod (Mare’s-Head), who fled the battlefield. It may or may not be true that this Oswig was the son-in-law of Ealdorman Byrhtnoth, who was killed at Maldon;³⁰ and Þurcytel Myranheafod may or may not be identical with the Þurcytel from East Anglia who bequeathed lands to Bury St. Edmunds sometime between 1020 and 1038.³¹ In any case, the location of this battle in 1010 makes it highly likely that these men also belonged to the East Anglian nobility. In this way, it may be seen that almost all of the people cited without identification in the Æthelredian Fragment have some affiliations either with Northumbria, East Anglia, the East Midlands, or with the king’s court.³² There are two possible explanations for their lack of attributes. One is that the author or the source he used lacked the necessary information. The other possibility is that the author and his presumed readership or audience knew these men well enough to understand who they were without the aid of attributes.

My third area of inquiry relating to the author of the Æthelredian Fragment is an apparent resemblance in attitude between the author of the Æthelredian Fragment and Archbishop Wulfstan. The Chronicler certainly shares Wulfstan’s indignation at the evils done by his countrymen, but in essence his mood is different. For Wulfstan, the situation in England is first and foremost the consequence of the people’s sins, such as their transgressions against God’s Commandments and their violation of the rights and privileges of the Church. Wulfstan views moral failure as the cause of the recent political disorder: “Understandað eac georne þæt deofol þas þeode nu fela geara dwelode to swyþe, ⁊ þæt lytle getreowþa wæran mid mannum, þeah hy wel spræcan”³³ (Understand well too that the Devil has now led this nation too far astray for many years, and there has been little loyalty among men, though they might speak well).³⁴ The misfortunes of war are due not so much to cowardice and the weakness of Englishmen as to God’s wrath:

Ful earhlice laga ⁊ scandlice nydgyld þurh Godes yrre us syn gemæne; understande se þe cunne. ⁊ fela ungelimpa gelimpð þysse þeode oft ⁊ gelome: ne dohte hit nu lange inne ne ute. Ac wæs here ⁊ hete on gewelhwilcan ende, oft ⁊ gelome, ⁊ Engle nu lange eal sigelease ⁊ to swyþe geyrigde þurh Godes yrre. ⁊ flotmen swa strange þurh Godes þafunge, þæt oft on gefeohte anfeseð tyne, ⁊ twegen oft twentig, ⁊ hwilum læs hwilum ma, eal for urum synnum.³⁵

[Utterly shameful laws and disgraceful tributes are common among us, because of God’s anger, let him understand it who is able; and many misfortunes befall this nation time and again. For a long time now nothing has prospered at home or abroad, but there has been devastation and hatred in every region time and again, and for a long time now the English have been entirely without victory, and too much disheartened through God’s wrath, and the pirates so strong through God’s consent, that often in battle one drives away ten, and two often drive away twenty, sometimes less and sometimes more, all because of our sins.]³⁶

In Wulfstan’s opinion the only means to improve the situation is to return to Christian morals and piety. At the end of the sermon, he calls on the English:

Uton don swa us þearf is gebugan to rihte ⁊ be suman dæle unriht forlætan, ⁊ betan swyþe georne þæt we ær brecan. ⁊ utan God lufian ⁊ Godes lagum fylgean, ⁊ gelæstan swyþe georne þæt þæt we behetan þa þe fulluht underfengan, oððon þa þe æt fulluhte ure forespecan wæran, ⁊ utan word & weorc rihtlice fadian, ⁊ ure in geþanc clænsian georne, ⁊ að & wed wærlice healdan, ⁊ sume getrywða habban us betweonan butan uncræftan. ⁊ utan gelome understandan þone miclam Dom þe we ealle to sculon ⁊ beorgan us georne wið þone weallendan bryne helle wites, ⁊ geearnian us þa mærþa ⁊ þa myrhða þe God hæfð gegearwod þam þe his willan on worolde gewyrcað.³⁷

[Let us do what is necessary for us – bow to justice and in some measure abandon injustice, and repair carefully what we have broken; and let us love God and follow God’s laws, and earnestly practice what we promised when we received baptism, or those who were our sponsors at baptism; and let us arrange our words and deeds rightly, and cleanse our conscience thoroughly, and carefully keep oaths and pledges, and have some faith between ourselves without deceit. And let us frequently consider the great judgment to which we all must come, and eagerly defend ourselves against the surging fires of the torments of hell, and earn for ourselves the glories and delights which God has prepared for those who do his will in the world.]³⁸

In order to overcome these calamities, the Archbishop proposes the upholding of civil and religious laws, the uprooting of iniquities, the ceasing of violence, and the fear of God. What is missing from his sermon here, however, is a reference to the people’s duty to fight the Vikings and to defend their country.

The author of the Æthelredian Fragment views the same situation differently. He reproaches the Anglo-Saxons not for their moral failings or for their violations of the Church’s rights, but for their reluctance to go into battle. As we have already seen, there are some traces of irony in his text, one of which consists of the repeated reference to reflections of the king and his witan on the means of defense. In the entry for 1006 he writes: “Agan se cyng georne to smeagenne wiþ his witan hwet heom eallum rædlicost þuhte þet man þissum eared gebeorgan mihte ær he mid ealle fordon wurþe”³⁹ (The king began to plan earnestly with his councilors as to what they all thought most advisable as to how his country might be protected, before it was entirely done for).⁴⁰ And again, in the entry for 1010: “Þonne bead man ealle witan to cynge and man þonne rædan scolde hu man þisne eard werian sceolde”⁴¹ (Then all the councilors were ordered to the king, and it had then to be decided how this country should be defended).⁴² In this description, the king and his councilors “decide,” instead of fighting the enemy. It seems not improbable that here the author is mocking Wulfstan’s mode of thought, which was mirrored in Æthelred’s laws prescribing the same things as were proposed at the end of Sermo Lupi.⁴³ The author observes that the ealdormen have no wish to defend the land (1006, 1009, 1012). There is a dark irony in his comment in the entry for 1012 that men of Scandinavian earl Thorkell the Tall promised the king “þet hi woldon þisne eard healdan and he hi fedan scolde and scrydan”⁴⁴ (that they would guard this country, and he would feed and clothe them).⁴⁵ The whole style of the narrative changes when the author begins to describe Edmund Ironside’s expeditions against the Vikings after his coronation. Here he does not repeat the same words or phrases, nor use any poetic words; his narrative is more simply and clearer, sometimes resembling the “Alfredian Chronicle.”

Þa gesomnode Eadmund cyng .iiii. siþe ealle Eangla þeode and ferde ofer Temese to Brentforda and ferde innan Cent and se here him flean beforan mid hira horsa into Sceapige, and se cyng ofsloh heora swa feala swa he offran mihte.⁴⁶

[Then for the fourth time King Edmund assembled the entire English nation and travelled over the Thames at Brentford, and travelled into Kent, and the raiding-army fled before him with their horses into Sheppey, and the king killed as many of them as he could overtake.]⁴⁷

There are no references to God’s punishment in the Æthelredian Fragment, but three references to God’s help (994, 1009, and 1016). All three are concerned with London, and Keynes takes them as evidence of a particular interest of the annalist in the fate of this city.⁴⁸ But it seems to me no less important that in all three cases the author’s descriptions imply that the Londoners stood fast against the enemy. In the annal for 994 it is said that Vikings tried to take the city or set it on fire, but “hi þar gefeordon maran hearm ⁊ yfel þonne hi æfre wendon þet heom ænig buruhwaru gedon sceolde”⁴⁹ (there they suffered more harm and injury than they ever imagined that any town-dwellers would do to them).⁵⁰ It is only after revealing this that the author declares that “seo halige Godes modor on þam hire mildheortnisse þære buruhware gecyðde, ⁊ hi ahredde wið heora feondum”⁵¹ (the holy Mother of God manifested her kind-heartedness to the town-dwellers and rescued them from their enemies).⁵² Likewise, in the entry for 1009 the annalist relates that the Scandinavians “often on þa burh Lundene gefuhton, ac si Gode lof þæt heo gyt gesund stent”⁵³ (often attacked London town, but praise be to God that it still stands sound).⁵⁴ Then, however, he adds that “hi þær æfre yfel geferdon”⁵⁵ (they [i.e., the Vikings] always fared badly there).⁵⁶ Finally, in the entry for 1016, the statement that “se ælmihtiga God hi ahredde”⁵⁷ (the Almighty God rescued [London])⁵⁸ follows two mentions of a valiant and successful defense of this city by the Londoners and King Edmund Ironside.

In this way, anyone seeking analogues for the mood of the Æthelredian Chronicler may find a closer parallel in the poet of The Battle of Maldon than in Archbishop Wulfstan. As Wilcox, in his highlighting of parallels between this poet and the Æthelredian annalist, has shown, both authors represent brave and steadfast, though desperate, defense as the moral norm, and retreat (however reasonable) as a shameful and lawless act.⁵⁹ Laura Ashe has recently pointed to the dramatic tension which the sermons of such churchmen as Wulfstan might produce in the minds of the laity, including lay warriors.⁶⁰ Was their main task to prepare for Doomsday, to do personal penance and reconciliation, or was it to fight for their country? Choosing between these alternatives seems to present no dilemma to the author of the Æthelredian Fragment, whose judgments on the events are colored more by the traditional heroic values of the Anglo-Saxon past than by any devoutly Christian ideas of God’s punishment and of penance.⁶¹

Let us sum up the arguments of this chapter. First, it seems that the author of the Æthelredian Fragment was well acquainted with the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and that he wrote his own text to a certain degree as a continuation of this. It seems thus plausible that he belonged to a circle – that is, to the king’s court or to a cathedral or monastic community, in which such work might have been done. My second conclusion is that the author of the Æthelredian Fragment was in some way affiliated with Northumbria, or more probably with the East Midlands or East Anglia. Meanwhile, it seems likely that he was familiar enough with court politics to know the deeds and standing not only of the highest elites, but also of persons of lower rank. In this way it is known that in his will Ætheling Æthelstan grants “þara landa þe ic ahte on East Englan”⁶² (the lands which I obtained in East Anglia)⁶³ to his brother Edmund, and that the core of Edmund’s support in his conflict with Eadric Streona in 1015 lay in the East Midlands.

For these reasons it may be concluded that the author of the Æthelredian Fragment belonged to the nobility of the North, the East Midlands, or East Anglia, and probably to the last of these regions. If he was one of Ætheling Æthelstan’s men, not only would he have witnessed the events in his regional homeland, but he would also have been familiar with the situation across the whole of England, as well as with the details of court politics; he might also have recorded some ideas about these events for himself or for his lord, if that lord were Ætheling Æthelstan. After the death of Æthelstan in 1014, the author of the Fragment would have joined many of Æthelstan’s men in transferring his loyalty to Edmund Ironside. He may have begun to compose his part of the Anglo-Saxon “Kings’ Chronicle”⁶⁴ just after King Edmund’s succession, in the hope of adding to it a positive continuation, before Edmund’s death laid this hope to rest.

Appendix 1: Formulas in the Æthelredian Fragment

I 998C Her wende se here eft eastweard into Frommuðan ⁊ þær æghwær up eodon swa wide swa hi woldon into Dorsæton, ⁊ man oft fyrde ongean hi gaderede, ac sona swa hi togædere gan sceoldan, þonne wearð þær æfre ðuruh sum þing fleam astiht, ⁊ æfre hi æt ende sige ahton. ⁊ þonne oðre hwile lagon him on Wihtlande ⁊ æton him þa hwile of Hamtunscire ⁊ of Suðseaxum.

1016C … Þær ahte Cnut sige ⁊ gefeht him ealle Engla þeode.

II. 992C … Þa sende se ealdorman Ælfric ⁊ het warnian ðone here, ⁊ þa on ðære nihte þe hy on ðone dæig togædere fon sceoldan, þa sceoc he on niht fram þære fyrde him sylfum to myclum bysmore, ⁊ se here ða ætbærst butan an scyp þær man ofsloh. ⁊ þa gemette se here ða scypu on Eastenglum ⁊ of Lundene, ⁊ hi ðær ofgeslogan micel wæl ⁊ þæt scyp genaman eall gewæpnod ⁊ gewædod þæt se ealdorman on wæs.

1001C … Þa gesomnede man þær ormæte fyrde Defenisces folces ⁊ Sumersætisces folces, ⁊ hi ða tosomne comon æt Peonnho, ⁊ sona swa hi togædere coman, þa beah þæt folc, ⁊ hi ðær mycel wæll ofslogan ⁊ ridon þa ofer þæt land, ⁊ wæs æfre heora æftra siþ wyrsa þonne se æra, ⁊ mid him ða micle herehuðe to scipon brohton.

1004C … Þa on mergen, ða hi to scipon woldon, þa Ulfcytel mid his werode þæt hi ðær togædere fon sceoldon, ⁊ hi þær togædere fæstlice fengon, ⁊ micel wæl ðær on ægðre hand gefeol.

1016C … Þa wæs Eadmund cyng ær ðam gewend ut ⁊ gerad þa Westsexon, ⁊ him beah eal folc to, ⁊ raðe æfter þam he gefeaht wið þone here æt Peonnan wið Gillingaham, ⁊ oþer gefeoht he gefeaht æfter middansumera æt Sceorstane, ⁊ þær mycel wæl feoll on ægðre healfe, ⁊ ða heras him sylfe toeodan, on þam gefeohte wæs Eadric ealdorman ⁊ Ælmær dyrling þam here on fultume ongean Eadmung kyning.

Appendix 2: Persons in the Æthelredian Fragment

The list does not include the king or members of his family. The names of the persons whose identification seems well established are printed in bold, while the names of the persons whose identification seems dubious (if, for example, based on twelfth-century sources) are printed in italics.

Notes

1

Two of the Saxon Chronicle Parallel, ed. Plummer, I, cxvi.

2

Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, 394.

3

Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England, 394.

4

Keynes, “Declining Reputation,” 163–64.

5

Brooks, “Why is the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle about Kings?,” 52.

6

Clark, “The Narrative Mode,” 227.

7

Clark, “The Narrative Mode,” 226.-.

8

Stodnick, “Sentence to Story.” Such “formulas” and their functions in the Chronicle’s narrative formed the basis of my PhD thesis “Anglo-Saxon Chronicle as the historical narrative.”

9

Stodnick, “Sentence to Story,” 102.

10

That is, the “common stock” and the entries 891–896.

11

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 63 (s.a. 999).

12

Based on ASC (E), trans. Swanton, 131, 133 (s.a. 999).

13

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 68 (s.a. 1010).

14

ASC, trans. Swanton, 140 (s.a. 1010).

15

ASC (A), ed. Bately, 43 (s.a. 837).

16

ASC, trans. Swanton, 62 (s.a. 837).

17

ASC (D), ed. Cubbin, 54 (s.a. 1009).

18

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 67 (s.a. 1009).

19

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 71 (s.a. 1014).

20

ASC (E), trans. Swanton, 145 (s.a. 1014).

21

ASC (A), ed. Bately, 37 (s.a. 755).

22

ASC (A), trans. Swanton, 48 (s.a. 755).

23

ASC (E), trans. Swanton, 127 (s.a. 993).

24

Keynes, “The Diplomas,” 211.

25

Keynes, “The Diplomas,” 197, 210–11.

26

Keynes, “The Diplomas,” 211.

27

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 65 (s.a. 1006). Here the word “ar” (honor) may also refer to “estates” or “territory”: see ASC (E), ed. Swanton, 136, n. 5 (s.a. 1006).

28

Keynes, The Diplomas, 210.

29

For this part of my research, I am greatly indebted to the digital projects “The Prosopography of Anglo-Saxon England (PASE)” (http://www.pase.ac.uk/) and “The Electronic Sawyer” (http://www.esawyer.org.uk/).

30

Dickins, “The Day of Byrhtnoth’s Death,” 15–17.

31

See PASE in note 29.

32

The last unidentified person is Ælmær Deorling, who in 1016 fought for Cnut against Edmund Ironside. His identification is very problematic; here this question is put to one side.

33

Sermo Lupi ad Anglos, ed. Whitelock, 33–34.

34

“The Word of the ‘Wolf,’” trans. Liuzza, 196.

35

Sermo Lupi ad Anglos, ed. Whitelock, 44–45.

36

“The Word of the ‘Wolf,’” trans. Liuzza, 199.

37

Sermo Lupi ad Anglos, ed. Whitelock, 52.

38

“The Word of the ‘Wolf,’” trans. Liuzza, 202.

39

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 66 (s.a. 1006).

40

ASC, trans. Swanton, 137.

41

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 68 (s.a. 1010).

42

ASC (E), trans. Swanton, 140 (s.a. 1010).

43

See, for example, Æthelred V and VI, in Die Gesetze, ed. Liebermann, 237–59.

44

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 69 (s.a. 1012).

45

ASC (E), trans. Swanton, 143 (s.a. 1012).

46

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 73 (s.a. 1016).

47

ASC, trans. Swanton, 150–51.

48

Keynes, “Declining Reputation,” 163.

49

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 60–61 (s.a. 994).

50

ASC (E), trans., Swanton, 129 (s.a. 994).

51

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 61–62 (s.a. 994).

52

ASC (E), trans. Swanton, 127–29 (s.a. 994).

53

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 67 (s.a. 1009).

54

ASC (E), trans. Swanton, 139 (s.a. 1009).

55

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 67 (s.a. 1009).

56

ASC (E), trans. Swanton, 139 (s.a. 1009).

57

ASC (E), ed. Irvine, 73 (s.a. 1016).

58

ASC (E), trans. Swanton, 150 (s.a. 1016).

59

Wilcox, “Maldon and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle,” 39–45.

60

Ashe, 1000–1350: Conquest and Transformation, 22.

61

On the traditional heroic values see, for example, O’Brien O’Keeffe, “Heroic Ideals and Christian Ethics.”

62

Anglo-Saxon Wills, ed. and trans. Whitelock, 58.

63

Anglo-Saxon Wills, ed. and trans. Whitelock, 59.

64

Here I invoke the hypothesis of Brooks in “Anglo-Saxon Chronicle or Old English Royal Annals?”.