These hypertext pages present the text of the Old-English poem The Battle of Brunanburh along with translations and background information.
That the battle was an event of great cultural significance is clear from the tone of the poem. A close reading of The Battle of Brunanburh, combined with historical knowledge of the reigns of Alfred, Eadweard and Aethelestan, suggests that Britain, which had previously been a loose confederation of Anglo-Saxon kingdoms (known as the Anglo-Saxon Heptarchy), had finally become a unified kingdom capable of celebrating its national and artistic maturity.
The poem is recorded in four manuscript copies of The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. It is not clear whether the poem was written specifically for the Chronicle or whether it was an independent piece that was incorporated into later manuscript copies of the Chronicle (a distinct possibility). Regardless, it survives as the sole entry for the year 937.
The poem is both self-consciously artistic, with strict meter and high poetic diction, and politically aware. It is self-conscious poetry that seeks to legitimize the focus of its praise, the reigning aristocracy, and to instill national pride in its audience. The poem commemorates the martial prowess of a well-governed people and demonstrates its artistic skill as well.
To see translations, click on difficult lines.
Her
Aethelstan cyning, eorla dryhten, West-Seaxe forth
beorna
beag-giefa, and his brothor eac,
Eadmund
aetheling, ealdor-langetir
geslogon
aet saecce sweorda ecgum
ymbe
Brunanburh. Bord-weall clufon,
heowon
heathu-linde hamora lafum
eaforan
Eadweardes, swa him ge-aethele waes
fram
cneo-magum thaet hie aet campe oft
with
lathra gehwone land ealgodon,
hord
and hamas. Hettend crungon,
Scotta
leode and scip-flotan,
faege
feollon. Feld dennode
secga
swate siththan sunne upp
on
morgen-tid, maere tungol,
glad
ofer grundas, Godes candel beorht,
eces
Dryhtnes, oth seo aethele gesceaft
sag
to setle. Thaer laeg secg manig
garum
agieted, guma Northerna
ofer
scield scoten, swelce Scyttisc eac,
werig,
wiges saed.
andlange
daeg eorod-cystum
on
last legdon lathum theodum,
heowon
here-flieman hindan thearle
mecum
mylen-scearpum. Mierce ne wierndon
heardes
hand-plegan haeletha nanum
thara-the
mid Anlafe ofer ear-gebland
on
lides bosme land gesohton,
faege
to gefeohte. Fife lagon
on
tham camp-stede cyningas geonge,
sweordum
answefede, swelce seofone eac
eorlas
Anlafes, unrim herges,
flotena
and Scotta. Thaere gefliemed wearth
North-manna
brego, niede gebaeded,
to
lides stefne lytle weorode;
cread
cnear on flot, cyning ut gewat
on
fealone flod, feorh generede.
Swelce
thaere eac se froda mid fleame com
on
his cyththe north, Constantinus,
har
hilde-rinc. Hreman ne thorfte
meca
gemanan; he waes his maga sceard,
freonda
gefielled on folc-stede,
beslaegen
aet saecce, and his sunu forlet
on
wael-stowe wundum forgrunden,
geongne
aet guthe. Gielpan ne thorfte
beorn
blanden-feax bill-gesliehtes,
eald
inwitta, ne Anlaf thy ma;
mid
hira here-lafum hliehhan ne thorfton
thaet
hie beadu-weorca beteran wurdon
on
camp-stede cumbol-gehnastes,
gar-mittunge,
gumena gemotes,
waepen-gewrixles,
thaes hie on wael-felda
with
Eadweardes eaforan plegodon.
Gewiton
him tha North-menn naegled-cnearrum, Ne wearth wael mare
dreorig
darotha laf, on Dinges mere
ofer
deop waeter Dyflin secan,
eft
Ira lang aewisc-mode.
Swelce
tha gebrothor begen aetsamne,
cyning
and aetheling, cyththe sohton,
West
Seaxna lang, wiges hremge.
Leton
him behindan hraew bryttian
sealwig-padan,
thone sweartan hraefn
hyrned-nebban,
and thone hasu-padan,
earn
aeftan hwit, aeses brucan,--
graedigne
guth-hafoc, and thaet graege deor,
wulf
on wealda.
on
thys ig-lande aefre gieta
folces
gefielled beforan thissum
sweordes
ecgum, thaes-the us secgath bec,
eald
uthwitan, siththan eastan hider
Engle
and Seaxe upp becomon,
ofer
brad brimu Britene sohton,
wlance
wig-smithas, Wealas ofercomon,
eorlas
ar-hwaete eard begeaton.
The Battle of Brunanburh
In this year King Aethelstan, Lord of warriors,
ring-giver to men, and his
brother also,
Prince Eadmund, won eternal glory
in battle with sword
edges
around Brunanburh. They split the shield-wall,
they hewed battle
shields with the remnants of hammers.
The sons of Eadweard, it was only
befitting their noble descent
from their ancestors that they should often
defend their land in battle against each hostile people,
horde and home.
The enemy perished,
Scots men and seamen,
fated they fell. The field
flowed
with blood of warriors, from sun up
in the morning, when the
glorious star
glided over the earth, God's bright candle,
eternal lord,
till that noble creation
sank to its seat. There lay many a warrior
by
spears destroyed; Northern men
shot over shield, likewise Scottish as
well,
weary, war sated.
The West-Saxons pushed onward
all day; in troops they pursued the hostile
people.
They hewed the fugitive grievously from behind
with swords sharp
from the grinding.
The Mercians did not refuse hard hand-play to any
warrior
who came with Anlaf over the sea-surge
in the bosom of a ship,
those who sought land,
fated to fight. Five lay dead
on the battle-field,
young kings,
put to sleep by swords, likewise also seven
of Anlaf's earls,
countless of the army,
sailors and Scots. There the North-men's chief was
put
to flight, by need constrained
to the prow of a ship with little
company:
he pressed the ship afloat, the king went out
on the dusky
flood-tide, he saved his life.
Likewise, there also the old campaigner
through flight came
to his own region in the north--Constantine--
hoary
warrior. He had no reason to exult
the great meeting; he was of his kinsmen
bereft,
friends fell on the battle-field,
killed at strife: even his son,
young in battle, he left
in the place of slaughter, ground to pieces with
wounds.
That grizzle-haired warrior had no
reason to boast of
sword-slaughter,
old deceitful one, no more did Anlaf;
with their remnant
of an army they had no reason to
laugh that they were better in deed of
war
in battle-field--collision of banners,
encounter of spears, encounter
of men,
trading of blows--when they played against
the sons of Eadweard on
the battle field.
Departed then the Northmen in nailed ships.
The dejected survivors of the
battle,
sought Dublin over the deep water,
leaving Dinges mere
to
return to Ireland, ashamed in spirit.
Likewise the brothers, both
together,
King and Prince, sought their home,
West-Saxon land, exultant
from battle.
They left behind them, to enjoy the corpses,
the dark coated
one, the dark horny-beaked raven
and the dusky-coated one,
the eagle white
from behind, to partake of carrion,
greedy war-hawk, and that gray
animal
the wolf in the forest.
Never was there more slaughter
on this island, never yet as many
people
killed before this
with sword's edge: never according to those who tell
us
from books, old wisemen,
since from the east Angles
and Saxons came up
over the broad sea. Britain they sought,
Proud
war-smiths who overcame the Welsh,
glorious warriors they took hold of the
land.