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Alfred the Great: War, Kingship and Culture in Anglo-Saxon England
This biography of Alfred the Great, king of the West Saxons (871-899), combines a sensitive reading of the primary sources with a careful evaluation of the most recent scholarly research on the history and archaeology of ninth-century England. Alfred emerges from the pages of this biography as a great warlord, an effective and inventive ruler, and a passionate scholar whose piety and intellectual curiosity led him to sponsor a cultural and spiritual renaissance. Alfred's victories on the battlefield and his sweeping administrative innovations not only preserved his native Wessex from viking conquest, but began the process of political consolidation that would culminate in the creation of the kingdom of England.
Alfred the Great: War, Kingship and Culture in Anglo-Saxon England strips away the varnish of later interpretations to recover the historical Alfredpragmatic, generous, brutal, pious, scholarly within the context of his own age.
Alfred the Great: War, Kingship and Culture in Anglo-Saxon England strips away the varnish of later interpretations to recover the historical Alfredpragmatic, generous, brutal, pious, scholarly within the context of his own age.
392 pages, Paperback
First published September 22, 1998
About the author
Richard P. Abels
13 books5 followersRichard Abels, FRHistS, is Professor Emeritus at the United States Naval Academy
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
June 26, 2021
Great scholarly study of the life, works, and writings of Alfred the great. Abels’ expertise and *deep* study shows on every page. It contains helpful appraisals of the primary sources and is appropriately respectful towards but not lionizing of Alfred the Great.
October 12, 2026
I read this book over the course of a month, which is unusual for me. I usually tear through history books, eager to get to the next chapter, the next argument, the next revelation. But Abels demands something slower. He demands attention. He writes with the assumption that his reader is willing to sit with complexity, to hold multiple truths at once, to resist the temptation to turn a ninth century king into a modern hero or a modern villain. I found myself putting the book down not because I was bored but because I needed to think. That is rare. That is valuable.
The first thing that struck me, that I am still turning over, is how Abels handles the sources. This is not a biography in the conventional sense. We do not have letters from Alfred, or diaries, or candid interviews. We have chronicles written by his own court, coins, archaeology, and the careful, partisan accounts of people who had every reason to make him look good. Abels does not pretend otherwise. He walks you through the evidence, shows you where it is thin, shows you where it has been shaped by later hands. He tells you what we can know and what we cannot. That honesty is the backbone of the book. It makes the moments of genuine insight feel earned. When Abels says Alfred was brutal, you believe him. When he says Alfred was pious, you believe him too. He does not resolve the contradiction. He lets it stand. That is what history actually feels like. That is what people actually are.
The prose is clear and measured, almost scholarly in its cadence, but never dry. Abels writes with a quiet authority that comes from decades of immersion in the period. He knows the terrain. He knows the battles. He knows the administrative reforms, the burh system, the coinage, the church politics, the tangled web of alliances and rivalries that made up ninth century Wessex. And he knows how to explain them without condescension. I have read plenty of academic histories that assume you already speak the language. Abels assumes you are intelligent but new to the conversation. That is a generous posture, and it made me trust him. The pacing is deliberate, almost slow at times, especially in the chapters on Alfred's legal reforms and his program of translation. I will admit that I skimmed some of the more technical passages. But I understood why they were there. You cannot understand Alfred the king without understanding Alfred the administrator, and you cannot understand the administrator without understanding the machinery he built.
The central theme that has stayed with me, that I have been chewing on for weeks, is the relationship between greatness and contingency. We call him Alfred the Great. The title suggests inevitability. It suggests a man who was destined to save England from the Vikings, to unite the kingdoms, to lay the foundation for a nation. Abels dismantles that. He shows you a king who lost battles, who spent time in hiding, who nearly lost everything more than once. He shows you a man whose survival was as much a matter of luck as skill, whose victories were narrow, whose reforms were unfinished, whose legacy was shaped as much by his successors as by his own actions. That reframing is uncomfortable, and it is important. It reminds us that history is not a parade of heroes. It is a series of choices, many of them desperate, many of them wrong, some of them, against all odds, right. Alfred was great not because he was destined to be but because he kept going when the odds were terrible. That is a harder, more human kind of greatness. I found it more inspiring than the myth.
But here is where my resistance surfaced, and it is a real one. Abels is so careful, so measured, so determined to strip away the varnish of later interpretations, that the Alfred who emerges is sometimes hard to see. He is pragmatic, generous, brutal, pious, scholarly. He is all of these things. But is he any of them deeply? I finished the book knowing what Alfred did, knowing how he ruled, knowing what he believed. I finished it less sure that I knew who he was. That opacity may be the honest conclusion. We cannot know a ninth century king the way we know a contemporary. The evidence is not there. But there were moments when Abels's caution tipped into distance, when the scholar's voice drowned out the human one. I wanted a few more moments of speculation, clearly marked, clearly provisional, but willing to imagine. I wanted Abels to say, here is what I think he felt, here is what I think he feared, here is what I think kept him awake at night. He does not do that. He stays with the evidence. That is admirable. It is also, at times, frustrating.
My other tension, and this is more personal, is the ending. Abels closes the book with a chapter on Alfred's legacy, and it is thorough, and it is thoughtful, and it is also a little bloodless. I understand why. The book is a work of history, not a eulogy. But I wanted something more. I wanted Abels to sit with the question of what Alfred means to us now, why we still call him great, what we project onto him, what we need him to be. He gestures at these questions. He does not answer them. Perhaps that is appropriate. Perhaps the past should not be made to serve the present. But I closed the book with a hunger that had not been satisfied, a sense that something had been left on the table. I wanted Abels to take a risk, to offer an interpretation that went beyond the sources, to tell me what he believed rather than only what he could prove.
And yet. And yet I keep thinking about the moment Abels describes Alfred's retreat to the marshes of Somerset. The king, defeated, alone, his kingdom overrun, his allies scattered. He builds a fortress in the mud. He gathers what remains of his army. He waits. And then he strikes. That is the story we all know, but Abels tells it without romance. He tells it as a man with no good options choosing the least bad one, doing the thing that had to be done, not because he was heroic but because there was no alternative. That is what greatness actually looks like. Not a statue. Not a legend. A tired man in a swamp deciding to try again. I have thought about that scene many times since I read it. I have thought about it on days when I wanted to quit, when the odds felt impossible, when the future looked like nothing but more of the same. Alfred built a fortress in the mud. He did not know if it would work. He built it anyway. That is the lesson I take from this book. Not the unity of England. Not the burhs. Not the translations. Just the stubbornness. The refusal to accept defeat as final. Abels gave me that. He may not have intended to. But he did.
This is not a perfect book. It is cautious to a fault. It leaves the human being somewhat out of reach. It ends without the reckoning I wanted. But I will not dismiss it. I will not dismiss a book that made me think about a ninth century king for weeks, that made me reconsider what greatness means, that made me want to build a fortress in my own mud. For anyone interested in the period, this is the book to read. Not the myth. Not the legend. The man. He was brutal, and he was pious, and he was scared, and he kept going. That is enough. That is more than most of us manage.
The first thing that struck me, that I am still turning over, is how Abels handles the sources. This is not a biography in the conventional sense. We do not have letters from Alfred, or diaries, or candid interviews. We have chronicles written by his own court, coins, archaeology, and the careful, partisan accounts of people who had every reason to make him look good. Abels does not pretend otherwise. He walks you through the evidence, shows you where it is thin, shows you where it has been shaped by later hands. He tells you what we can know and what we cannot. That honesty is the backbone of the book. It makes the moments of genuine insight feel earned. When Abels says Alfred was brutal, you believe him. When he says Alfred was pious, you believe him too. He does not resolve the contradiction. He lets it stand. That is what history actually feels like. That is what people actually are.
The prose is clear and measured, almost scholarly in its cadence, but never dry. Abels writes with a quiet authority that comes from decades of immersion in the period. He knows the terrain. He knows the battles. He knows the administrative reforms, the burh system, the coinage, the church politics, the tangled web of alliances and rivalries that made up ninth century Wessex. And he knows how to explain them without condescension. I have read plenty of academic histories that assume you already speak the language. Abels assumes you are intelligent but new to the conversation. That is a generous posture, and it made me trust him. The pacing is deliberate, almost slow at times, especially in the chapters on Alfred's legal reforms and his program of translation. I will admit that I skimmed some of the more technical passages. But I understood why they were there. You cannot understand Alfred the king without understanding Alfred the administrator, and you cannot understand the administrator without understanding the machinery he built.
The central theme that has stayed with me, that I have been chewing on for weeks, is the relationship between greatness and contingency. We call him Alfred the Great. The title suggests inevitability. It suggests a man who was destined to save England from the Vikings, to unite the kingdoms, to lay the foundation for a nation. Abels dismantles that. He shows you a king who lost battles, who spent time in hiding, who nearly lost everything more than once. He shows you a man whose survival was as much a matter of luck as skill, whose victories were narrow, whose reforms were unfinished, whose legacy was shaped as much by his successors as by his own actions. That reframing is uncomfortable, and it is important. It reminds us that history is not a parade of heroes. It is a series of choices, many of them desperate, many of them wrong, some of them, against all odds, right. Alfred was great not because he was destined to be but because he kept going when the odds were terrible. That is a harder, more human kind of greatness. I found it more inspiring than the myth.
But here is where my resistance surfaced, and it is a real one. Abels is so careful, so measured, so determined to strip away the varnish of later interpretations, that the Alfred who emerges is sometimes hard to see. He is pragmatic, generous, brutal, pious, scholarly. He is all of these things. But is he any of them deeply? I finished the book knowing what Alfred did, knowing how he ruled, knowing what he believed. I finished it less sure that I knew who he was. That opacity may be the honest conclusion. We cannot know a ninth century king the way we know a contemporary. The evidence is not there. But there were moments when Abels's caution tipped into distance, when the scholar's voice drowned out the human one. I wanted a few more moments of speculation, clearly marked, clearly provisional, but willing to imagine. I wanted Abels to say, here is what I think he felt, here is what I think he feared, here is what I think kept him awake at night. He does not do that. He stays with the evidence. That is admirable. It is also, at times, frustrating.
My other tension, and this is more personal, is the ending. Abels closes the book with a chapter on Alfred's legacy, and it is thorough, and it is thoughtful, and it is also a little bloodless. I understand why. The book is a work of history, not a eulogy. But I wanted something more. I wanted Abels to sit with the question of what Alfred means to us now, why we still call him great, what we project onto him, what we need him to be. He gestures at these questions. He does not answer them. Perhaps that is appropriate. Perhaps the past should not be made to serve the present. But I closed the book with a hunger that had not been satisfied, a sense that something had been left on the table. I wanted Abels to take a risk, to offer an interpretation that went beyond the sources, to tell me what he believed rather than only what he could prove.
And yet. And yet I keep thinking about the moment Abels describes Alfred's retreat to the marshes of Somerset. The king, defeated, alone, his kingdom overrun, his allies scattered. He builds a fortress in the mud. He gathers what remains of his army. He waits. And then he strikes. That is the story we all know, but Abels tells it without romance. He tells it as a man with no good options choosing the least bad one, doing the thing that had to be done, not because he was heroic but because there was no alternative. That is what greatness actually looks like. Not a statue. Not a legend. A tired man in a swamp deciding to try again. I have thought about that scene many times since I read it. I have thought about it on days when I wanted to quit, when the odds felt impossible, when the future looked like nothing but more of the same. Alfred built a fortress in the mud. He did not know if it would work. He built it anyway. That is the lesson I take from this book. Not the unity of England. Not the burhs. Not the translations. Just the stubbornness. The refusal to accept defeat as final. Abels gave me that. He may not have intended to. But he did.
This is not a perfect book. It is cautious to a fault. It leaves the human being somewhat out of reach. It ends without the reckoning I wanted. But I will not dismiss it. I will not dismiss a book that made me think about a ninth century king for weeks, that made me reconsider what greatness means, that made me want to build a fortress in my own mud. For anyone interested in the period, this is the book to read. Not the myth. Not the legend. The man. He was brutal, and he was pious, and he was scared, and he kept going. That is enough. That is more than most of us manage.
March 12, 2014
An excellent, scholarly biography of the ruler who was, probably, the greatest king in English history. While the biography by Justin Pollard is better written, sweeping the reader along like a novel, it suffers from the writer building huge, towering deductions on unsubstantial foundations. Abels' biography is more sober; mind you, saying that, Alfred's life, even in what we securely know about it, was thrilling enough to enliven even the stodgiest prose, and Abels is better than that: workmanlike would be a good description. So, of the two biographies, Pollard's is flashier and faster, Abels' more solid and reliable.
May 11, 2020
I read this book immediately after I finished Ben Merkle's The White Horse King, and how refreshing it was. Footnotes! Objectivity! Critical analysis instead of blind acceptance of every word in a hagiography!
I don't agree with every word in this book--primarily because I am even more skeptical of Asser's Life of Alfred than is Abels--but it is a model of how to write a biography of someone for whom we don't have that much information. Highly recommended as an alternative to the Merkle book.
I don't agree with every word in this book--primarily because I am even more skeptical of Asser's Life of Alfred than is Abels--but it is a model of how to write a biography of someone for whom we don't have that much information. Highly recommended as an alternative to the Merkle book.
January 2, 2009
A highly readable biography. Recommended for medieval nerds and general readers alike.
February 12, 2020
This is a scholarly book, written by an expert in the field and crikey does it show. If this book was in a film with Ray Winstone, it would be The Daddy. It is very well researched and has footnotes galore. Footnotes I adore. It is there that you can see the lore. You don't have to keep flicking back and forth to the back to see endnotes and break up the flow of your reading. It's quite a dense book to read, with a lot of information contained within each paragraph. However, Abels has a nice turn of phrase and you don't feel as if you are wading through treacle, more like sailing across it and enjoying the experience as you do so. I was overjoyed to see him describing a more unlikely conclusion by a fellow historian as 'particularly unpersuasive', which is academic speak for saying that his friend is off his rocker.
Alfred the Great is written mostly chronologically, which is champion, because one can see how earlier events affect the later ones. The exception to this are the later chapters dealing with Alfred's intellectual achievements plus his ideology and the governance of the realm. The former I found hard work, mostly because I find ideology a bit dry and Abel's thoroughness here, no doubt a dream to some, is a nightmare to others – ie me. The governance of the realm, though, I couldn't get enough of.
There are any number of fascinating points made and these aren't floated as notions, but like any good Countdown contestant, Abel's shows his workings. He makes a convincing argument about the whole confirmation/consecration business, goes into the shenanigans concerning the various wills and baton passing of the kingship. He even pours cold water over the 'Blood Eagle'by pointing out a lack of any contemporary evidence, for which the world may be a less colourful place, although undoubtedly one safer in which to criticise Swedish chefs in. The confusion of battles during the wars against the Danes are well explained and easy to follow, as is the sense that Alfred was lucky in a lot of ways. Not just in battle, but in getting the top job in the first place and then in being able to appoint new men, who owed their position solely to him when the old generation of magnates vanished early in his reign.
The appendix concerning the debate over the authorship of Asser's life of Alfred, is worth a read all on its own. The only inaccuracy that jumped out to me was Aethelraed being mistranslated as 'Noble Wolf' which is more of a clerical error than anything else. This is a great book and well worth a read.
Three things you'll take away from this:
1, the role of luck in history
2, the tenuous link of Alfred's family to the Cerdicings, through Ingeld, brother of Ine
3, how pragmatic Alfred was in things
Alfred the Great is written mostly chronologically, which is champion, because one can see how earlier events affect the later ones. The exception to this are the later chapters dealing with Alfred's intellectual achievements plus his ideology and the governance of the realm. The former I found hard work, mostly because I find ideology a bit dry and Abel's thoroughness here, no doubt a dream to some, is a nightmare to others – ie me. The governance of the realm, though, I couldn't get enough of.
There are any number of fascinating points made and these aren't floated as notions, but like any good Countdown contestant, Abel's shows his workings. He makes a convincing argument about the whole confirmation/consecration business, goes into the shenanigans concerning the various wills and baton passing of the kingship. He even pours cold water over the 'Blood Eagle'by pointing out a lack of any contemporary evidence, for which the world may be a less colourful place, although undoubtedly one safer in which to criticise Swedish chefs in. The confusion of battles during the wars against the Danes are well explained and easy to follow, as is the sense that Alfred was lucky in a lot of ways. Not just in battle, but in getting the top job in the first place and then in being able to appoint new men, who owed their position solely to him when the old generation of magnates vanished early in his reign.
The appendix concerning the debate over the authorship of Asser's life of Alfred, is worth a read all on its own. The only inaccuracy that jumped out to me was Aethelraed being mistranslated as 'Noble Wolf' which is more of a clerical error than anything else. This is a great book and well worth a read.
Three things you'll take away from this:
1, the role of luck in history
2, the tenuous link of Alfred's family to the Cerdicings, through Ingeld, brother of Ine
3, how pragmatic Alfred was in things
September 26, 2019
Richard P. Abels work on Alfred the Great was absolutely fantastic, and I learned a fantastic amount about Alfred in this biography. At first I was apprehensive with this reading as the writings on early england I find to be a little challenging just in terms of names and movements but this book was extremely well written and informative while also being very accessible.
Everyone knows the story of Alfred who burned the cakes which is a famous story of his, most in England who have a grasp on their history know it and not to diminish it but I don't see the fixation on it - but thats just me. Alfred was also given the title of Great by his chronicler Asser who had come to his court when Alfred was trying to encourage the literacy and education. It was nice to see that while many in history have been known as "the great" typically for their ability as a commander and warlord, Alfred actually lost the majority of his battles but he managed to win the battle that would end up mattering the most at Edington after he had been forced to flee to the swamps of Somerset after having lost at Wilton.
It was also interesting to see how Alfred has been portrayed as the founder of the English navy and its standing army. It was said that among the naval battles that were recorded in early english history of the four that have been recorded he was involved directly in three of them. It was also interesting to see how he reformed the military and fortresses as the needs of defense against the Danes were a pressing matter.
All in all I would recommend to anyone interested in Alfred, Richard does a good job of playing both analytical detective while also providing a sweeping narrative, I learned a tremendous amount that I wont get into it all here but was surprised how much I enjoyed it and couldnt put it down.
Everyone knows the story of Alfred who burned the cakes which is a famous story of his, most in England who have a grasp on their history know it and not to diminish it but I don't see the fixation on it - but thats just me. Alfred was also given the title of Great by his chronicler Asser who had come to his court when Alfred was trying to encourage the literacy and education. It was nice to see that while many in history have been known as "the great" typically for their ability as a commander and warlord, Alfred actually lost the majority of his battles but he managed to win the battle that would end up mattering the most at Edington after he had been forced to flee to the swamps of Somerset after having lost at Wilton.
It was also interesting to see how Alfred has been portrayed as the founder of the English navy and its standing army. It was said that among the naval battles that were recorded in early english history of the four that have been recorded he was involved directly in three of them. It was also interesting to see how he reformed the military and fortresses as the needs of defense against the Danes were a pressing matter.
All in all I would recommend to anyone interested in Alfred, Richard does a good job of playing both analytical detective while also providing a sweeping narrative, I learned a tremendous amount that I wont get into it all here but was surprised how much I enjoyed it and couldnt put it down.
November 29, 2022
War, kinship, and culture in Anglo-Saxon England
The subtitle gives us a good insight as to why we bought this book by author Richard Ables.
As the title implies the strength of this book is not that it is just dry facts about Alfred’s life in a vacuum. We get information on Anglo-Saxon England of that time; also, some of the reasons that Alfred did or thought and acted on. Still focusing on Alfred, the great we see what his influences were on the politics and the people at the time.
One nice advantage of this book is that it has (quality) footnotes at the end of the page; that way it’s easier to read for references and meanings instead of having to dig into the back of the book. If this had been a Kindle with “x-ray” then that would’ve been okay however for a hard copy it’s always easier to have your references near what the referencing. The footnotes themselves are quality and show other people’s writings and thoughts on the subject as the subject becomes relevant.
If you’re not familiar with the area and the time or even if you are, we are treated to a genealogical table of maps and figures that even though it is in black and white gives us a feel for where the people were and what they were doing at the time.
There is an appendix on the authenticity of Asser’s “Life of King Alfred.” In this Richard Ables section on Asser’s life, he discusses whether Asser’s writings are relevant and not a tenth-century forgery. “Asser’s biography of King Alfred is a source of inestimable value for understanding Alfred and his times.”
We also have a section on further reading that tells about the sources and gives a little description of why you want to read these writings.
A different view of Alfred and Asser can be found in “King Alfred the Great” by Alfred P. Smyth.
The subtitle gives us a good insight as to why we bought this book by author Richard Ables.
As the title implies the strength of this book is not that it is just dry facts about Alfred’s life in a vacuum. We get information on Anglo-Saxon England of that time; also, some of the reasons that Alfred did or thought and acted on. Still focusing on Alfred, the great we see what his influences were on the politics and the people at the time.
One nice advantage of this book is that it has (quality) footnotes at the end of the page; that way it’s easier to read for references and meanings instead of having to dig into the back of the book. If this had been a Kindle with “x-ray” then that would’ve been okay however for a hard copy it’s always easier to have your references near what the referencing. The footnotes themselves are quality and show other people’s writings and thoughts on the subject as the subject becomes relevant.
If you’re not familiar with the area and the time or even if you are, we are treated to a genealogical table of maps and figures that even though it is in black and white gives us a feel for where the people were and what they were doing at the time.
There is an appendix on the authenticity of Asser’s “Life of King Alfred.” In this Richard Ables section on Asser’s life, he discusses whether Asser’s writings are relevant and not a tenth-century forgery. “Asser’s biography of King Alfred is a source of inestimable value for understanding Alfred and his times.”
We also have a section on further reading that tells about the sources and gives a little description of why you want to read these writings.
A different view of Alfred and Asser can be found in “King Alfred the Great” by Alfred P. Smyth.
June 7, 2023
A detailed review of Alfred's life with specific emphasis on corroborating disparate accounts of his life and truth-finding through centuries of myth. Maybe closer to 3.5 stars simply because the presentation is especially dry in places. This is par for the course for history books, but doesn't have to be. A little space or commentary between facts and figures can go far for readability.
Separately, I think someone is going to be rich for finding a way to grab the high fantasy folks and trick them into reading histories since they're already prepped for flipping back to the glossary to keep track of 60 people with the same name.
Separately, I think someone is going to be rich for finding a way to grab the high fantasy folks and trick them into reading histories since they're already prepped for flipping back to the glossary to keep track of 60 people with the same name.
Read
May 25, 2021This is an excellent account, the most comprehensive of the Alfred books I have. It is more than a biography, covering the nature of kingship but while academic it remains very readable. Alfred is placed firmly in his time as both warrior and scholar, and both social (burh system) and legal reformist, but this is no sycophantic rendering - he, like Asser's biography of him, is scrutinised carefully - as with his usurpation of the kingship and the treatment of his nephews.
December 28, 2023
this was for uni and i never want to hear another thing about alfred the great ever actually
February 25, 2025
A look at the only English king called "Great" and the problems with writing about some dead for at least 1200 years.
May 20, 2008
I've along admired King Alfred the Great, who ruled the English kingdom of Wessex from 871 until his death in 899. He was a great man, a great king, a great warrior, a scholar, and lover of learning.
Thankfully, Richard Abels, a Professor of History at the U.S. Naval Academy, has produced a fine, comprehensive, and insightful account of Alfred, the only English king to be called Great.
Abels examines the entire historical record to paint a balanced portrait of Alfred. The king was a classic warrior-scholar, familiar with ancient Latin texts and battlefield strategies. He considered his kingship, and the monarchy in general, as divinely inspired and blessed by God himself. In return for this awesome privilege and responsibility, the king had a duty to pursue and rule with wisdom. Alfred treated his subjects fairly, and by all accounts was generally admired by the populace.
He faced several challenges - Viking raids, rebellious-minded nephews, lack of education throughout the kingdom - and at least attempted to solve them all. He defeated the Vikings and prevented them from conquering all of Britain. He and a team of scholars translated Latin texts into English, then old English, which looks like a foreign language to us. He built a system of defensive sites, known as burhs, which proved their worth in the Viking raids in the 890s.
Abels writes well, critically examines each source, and tells us if one is suspect. Where the record is unclear or non-existent, he offers educated and plausible explanations.
This is, by far, the best book about Alfred and his times I have read.
Thankfully, Richard Abels, a Professor of History at the U.S. Naval Academy, has produced a fine, comprehensive, and insightful account of Alfred, the only English king to be called Great.
Abels examines the entire historical record to paint a balanced portrait of Alfred. The king was a classic warrior-scholar, familiar with ancient Latin texts and battlefield strategies. He considered his kingship, and the monarchy in general, as divinely inspired and blessed by God himself. In return for this awesome privilege and responsibility, the king had a duty to pursue and rule with wisdom. Alfred treated his subjects fairly, and by all accounts was generally admired by the populace.
He faced several challenges - Viking raids, rebellious-minded nephews, lack of education throughout the kingdom - and at least attempted to solve them all. He defeated the Vikings and prevented them from conquering all of Britain. He and a team of scholars translated Latin texts into English, then old English, which looks like a foreign language to us. He built a system of defensive sites, known as burhs, which proved their worth in the Viking raids in the 890s.
Abels writes well, critically examines each source, and tells us if one is suspect. Where the record is unclear or non-existent, he offers educated and plausible explanations.
This is, by far, the best book about Alfred and his times I have read.
October 10, 2013
Here is a very readable biography of Alfred the Great, one of few monarchs called "Great" who seems to have deserved the epithet. In spite of the gap of over a millennium, Alfred's multi-faceted personality comes alive. By avoiding the hero-worship that Alfred has been subjected to, Abels makes a convincing case for presented Alfred as a king who accomplished much. Although Alfred did not himself win the crucial battles against the Danes in the last years of his reign, the work he had done to organize the army made it possible to hold of the invaders and he laid the foundations that his son & grandson could build on in solidifying the kingdom. Alfred's intellectual and spiritual interests are perhaps unusual for a king but they were part of his greatness.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews