The Battle of Brunanburh ... at Wigan

 

The Battle of Brunanburh took place in 937 between a proto-English army led by King Æthelstan and an alliance of northerners. It is famous as the bloodiest conflict of its age. Its outcome might have contributed to the English state today, not because Æthelstan won, but because of the possible consequences had he lost.

No one is sure where the battle happened. Historians cannot even agree whether it was east or west of the Pennines, although this has not prevented them proposing more than 40 sites - listed here. We are not going to help by proposing another, Wigan in Lancashire.

Historical background

Æthelstan came to power in 924. His realm covered the whole of modern England below the Humber, bar Cornwall. There were four realms north of the Humber: 1) The ‘Dublin Viking’ Kingdom of York; 2) The Anglian kingdom of Bernicia; 3) The Brythonic kingdom of Strathclyde and Cumberland; 4) The Pictish-Gael kingdom of Alba. The Kingdom of York comprised the mainly Danish Viking region of Deira in the east and the mainly Brythonic region of modern Lancashire in the west. It was ruled, along with north-western islands, peninsulas and coasts by a sect of ethnic Norse Vikings based in Dublin. David Griffiths, who wrote the definitive book about these people, refers to them as the ‘Hiberno-Norse’. It is not universally popular, but we will use his term in this paper.

Figure 1: British Isles kingdoms in 936

In 927, Sihtric, Hiberno-Norse King of York, died. King Æthelstan annexed the Kingdom of York and installed friendly earls to defend it. Later that year he defeated King Constantine II of Alba, King Owain of Strathclyde & Cumberland, Ealdred of Bamburgh, and King Hywel Dda of Wales, and forced them to accept his overlordship. It united most of modern England under a single ruler for the first time and gave him hegemony over mainland Britain (Figure 1).

The subjugated northern kings rebelled in 934. Æthelstan led an army into Alba to quell the uprising. Constantine gave his son as hostage, in a deal to persuade Æthelstan to return to England. Later that year Guthfrith, king of the Hiberno-Norse, died. His son Olaf succeeded to the Hiberno-Norse throne.

Confusingly, Olaf Guthfrithson had a cousin, Olaf Sihtricson, who was also referred to as King Olaf by some contemporary accounts. This has led to some uncertainty about which of the two was involved in subsequent events. It makes no difference to the location of the battle, so we will assume henceforth that it was Olaf Guthfrithson.

In 937, Constantine formed a rebel alliance with the Hiberno-Norse and the Strathclyde Britons to retake Northumbria. Constantine presumably wanted to be released from fealty to Æthelstan and to re-establish a buffer state between England and Alba. Some historians reckon that Constantine had bigger ambitions, perhaps to conquer England. It is possible. William conquered England with less men, no local sympathisers and no land supply route. It impacts the battlefield search. If Constantine only wanted to restore Northumberland to Hiberno-Norse rule, the rebels had plenty of logistical incentives to remain near or within friendly territory and no incentive to leave. If, on the other hand, Constantine wanted to conquer England, the rebel army might have ventured into the English midlands hoping to sack Tamworth, Winchester or London.

In the autumn of 937, the rebel alliance invaded somewhere in what is now the north of England. They were defeated by Æthelstan at the Battle of Brunanburh, as discussed below. In late 939, soon after Æthelstan’s death, Olaf Guthfrithson sailed his fleet into the Humber estuary and, with minimal resistance, retook the Kingdom of York for the Hiberno-Norse.

Figure 2: Green's pre-Brunanburh political map of British Isles in 937

Some of the contemporary accounts refer to events in Northumbria and/or England. Their meaning changed between Brunanburh and the recording of the ASC entry for it, even though the gap might have been less than ten years, and again before the other accounts were written. The authors might have been referring to the meaning at the time they were writing, or to one of the earlier meanings, or to the meaning in an earlier account that they were using as a source.

The England inherited by Æthelstan was south of the Mersey and Humber. There was an Anglian affiliate in Bernicia. By the time of the battle, Æthelstan had annexed what is now Lancashire and Yorkshire into an expanded England. He had also subjugated the kingdoms of Strathclyde & Cumbria, Alba, Bernicia, Wales, and Cornwall. It seems that he thought of them as fiefs rather than as parts of an expanded England, because his charters and coins thereafter were marked ‘rex totius Britanniae’, King of all Britain, rather than King of all England. By the 12th century, when most of the accounts were written, England had established its modern form, albeit with unsettled borders.

Northumbria was founded in the 7th century from a union of the Anglian kingdoms of Deira and Bernicia. It was bounded by the Pennines to the west, the Humber to the south and the Scottish lowlands to the north. It was divided in the 9th century when Danish Vikings took Deira, leading to an influx of Danish Vikings in and around Jorvik (modern York). In the early 10th century, the Hiberno-Norse took Deira and modern Lancashire to form the Kingdom of York. Hiberno-Norse settled on the northwest coast of modern England (Figure 3). Æthelstan annexed the Kingdom of York in 927 to reunite Northumbria, integrated with modern Lancashire. Northumbria was divided again 12 years later when Olaf Guthfrithson retook Deira, only to be permanently reunited under Edmund in 944.

In the early 10th century, modern Lancashire and modern Cumbria were occupied by a complicated amalgamation of Norsemen, Anglians and Britons with Hiberno-Norse settlements on the coast. Æthelstan annexed most of modern Lancashire after Sihtric’s death in 927, then he purchased Amounderness. Most historians, including subject matter experts like Griffiths and Green (see Figure 2), think it had been absorbed into Northumbria at the time of Brunanburh, not least because the ASC entry for 923 says that Manchester was in Northumbria. Modern Lancashire had transferred to Mercia by the time that the 12th century Brunanburh accounts were written.

If you are interested in more historical detail, Wikipedia is an obvious starting point. Michael Livingstone’s ‘The Battle of Brunanburh: A Casebook’ is the definitive battle reference guide. His narrative style follow up ‘Never Greater Slaughter: Brunanburh and the Birth of England’ is an easier read. Sarah Foot’s excellent biography ‘Aethelstan: The First King of England’ is a rich and informative resource about the personalities and politics. Most of the other scholarly analysis either comes in short sections of books about the Anglo-Saxons, or in support of one or other of the battlefield candidates. Professor Michael Wood’s presentation to the Society of Antiquaries - available on YouTube here - is a concise introduction, although he too finishes with speculation about the battlefield location.

Brunanburh in the contemporary accounts

The only clues about the battle’s events and location are in a dozen or so contemporary accounts:

Anglo-Saxon Chronicle; contemporary
Chronicon Æthelweardi; Æthelweard, c980
Annales Cambriae; c990
Libellus de Exordio; Simeon of Durham; c1110
Chronicon ex Chronicis; John of Worcester, c1125
Historia Anglorum; Henry of Huntingdon, c1129
Gesta regum anglorum; William of Malmesbury, c1135
Historia Regum; allegedly by Simeon of Durham; mid 12th century
Crowland Chronicle; Pseudo-Ingulf; allegedly before 1109, but perhaps forged later
Chronicle of Melrose; c1170
Chronica magistri Rogeri de Hoveden; Roger de Hoveden; c1201
Chronica de Mailros, e Codice Unico; c1270
Annals of Ulster; compiled 16th century
Annals of the Four Masters; compiled 17th century
Annals of Clonmacnoise; compiled 17th century

Most experts think that the best Brunanburh battlefield location clues are in Egil’s Saga. It is a biography of Egill Skallagrimsson who is thought to have participated in the battle. We have published a paper - here - explaining why Egil’s Saga it is not describing Brunanburh but rather Æthelstan’s 927 battle against King Constantine of Alba. It is dispiriting to lose Egil’s Saga’s battlefield location clues, but they were hinkypunks, leading the researcher astray.

The Brunanburh Casebook has the most recent translations of all the contemporary accounts. Here are some older translations of what we believe to be the important accounts in chronological order.


The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (Whitlock translation here) is the oldest and most trusted account. It takes the form of a poem:

In this year King Athelstan, lord of nobles, dispenser of treasure to men, and his brother also, Edmund atheling, won by the sword’s edge undying glory in battle around Brunanburh. Edward’s sons clove the shield-wall, hewed the linden-wood shields with hammered swords, for it was natural to men of their lineage to defend their land, their treasure, and their homes, in frequent battle against every foe. Their enemies perished; the people of the Scots and the pirates fell doomed. The field grew dark with the blood of men, from the time when the sun, that glorious luminary, the bright candle of God, of the Lord Eternal, moved over the earth in the hours of morning, until that noble creation sank at its setting. There lay many a man destroyed by the spears, many a northern warrior shot over his shield; and likewise many a Scot lay weary, sated with battle.

The whole day long the West Saxons with mounted companies kept in pursuit of the hostile peoples, grievously they cut down the fugitives from behind with their whetted swords. The Mercians refused not hard conflict to any men who with Olaf had sought this land in the bosom of a ship over the tumult of waters, coming doomed to the fight. Five young kings lay on that field of battle, slain by the swords, and also seven of Olaf’s earls, and a countless host of seamen and Scots. There the prince of the Norsemen was put to flight, driven perforce to the prow of his ship with a small company; the vessel pressed on in the water, the king set out over the fallow flood and saved his life.

There also the aged Constantine, the hoary-haired warrior, came north to his own land by flight. He had no cause to exult in that crossing of swords. He was shorn of his kinsmen and deprived of his friends at that meeting-place, bereaved in the battle, and he left his young son on the field of slaughter, brought low by wounds in the battle. The grey-haired warrior, the old and wily one, had no cause to vaunt of that sword-clash; no more had Olaf. They had no need to gloat with the remnants of their armies, that they were superior in warlike deeds on the field of battle, in the clash of standards, the meeting of spears, the encounter of men, and the crossing of weapons, after they had contended on the field of slaughter with the sons of Edward.

Then the Norsemen, the sorry survivors from the spears, put out in their studded ships on to Ding’s mere, to make for Dublin across the deep water, back to Ireland humbled at heart. Also the two brothers, king and atheling, returned together to their own country, the land of the West Saxons, exulting in the battle. They left behind them the dusky-coated one, the black raven with its homed beak, to share the corpses, and the dim-coated, white-tailed eagle, the greedy war-hawk, to enjoy the carrion, and that grey beast, the wolf of the forest.

Never yet in this island before this, by what books tell us and our ancient sages, was a greater slaughter of a host made by the edge of the sword, since the Angles and Saxons came hither from the east, invading Britain over the broad seas, and the proud assailants, warriors eager for glory, overcame the Britons and won a country.

Æthelweard’s Chronicle says:

In the year in which the very mighty king Æthelstan enjoyed the crown of empire, 926 years were passed from the glorious incarnation of our Saviour. After thirteen years a huge battle was fought against the barbarians at Brunandun, wherefore it is still called the ‘great battle’ by the common people. Then the barbarian forces were overcome on all sides, and held the superiority no more. Afterwards he drove them off from the shores of the ocean, and the Scots and Picts both submitted. The fields of Britain were consolidated into one, there was peace everywhere, and abundance of all things, and [since then] no fleet has remained here, having advanced against these shores, except under treaty with the English.

John of Worcester’s 'Chronicon ex Chronicis' for the year 938 says:

Anlaf, the Pagan king of Ireland and many other isles, at the instigation of his father-in-law Constantine, King of the Scots, entered the mouth of the Humber with a powerful fleet. King Athelstan, and his brother Edmund the etheling, encountered him at the head of their army at a place called Brunanburgh, and the battle, in which five tributary kings and seven earls were slain, having lasted from daybreak until evening, and been more sanguinary than any that was ever fought before in England, the conquerors retired in triumph, having driven the kings Anlaf and Constantine to their ships; who, overwhelmed with sorrow at the destruction of their army, returned to their own countries with very few followers.

Henry of Huntingdon’s 'Historia Anglorum' says:

In the year of grace 945, and in the fourth year of his reign, King Athelstan fought at Brunesburih one of the greatest battles on record against Anlaf, king of Ireland, who had united his forces to those of the Scots and Danes settled in England. Of the grandeur of this conflict, English writers have expatiated in a sort of poetical description, in which they have employed both foreign words and metaphors. I therefore give a faithful version of it, in order that, by translating their recital almost word for word, the majesty of the language may exhibit the majestic achievements and the heroism of the English nation. Then follows his Latin translation of the Brunanbugh Poem from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (above).

Simeon’s 'Libellus de Exordio Ecclesiae Dunelmensis' says:

In the fourth year after this, that is to say, in the year nine hundred and thirty-seven of our Lord's nativity, Ethelstan fought at Weondune (which is called by another name Aet-Brunnanwerc, or Brunnanbyrig) against Onlaf the son of Guthred, the late king, who had arrived with a fleet of six hundred and fifteen ships, supported by the auxiliaries of the kings recently spoken of, that is to say, of the Scots and Cumbrians. But trusting in the protection of St. Cuthbert, he slew a countless multitude of these people, and drove those kings out of his realm; earning for his own soldiers a glorious victory.

William of Malmesbury says that all the information about Æthelstan in his 'Gesta Regum Anglorum' came from a poem he had recently found:

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 by the most experienced generals, and most valiant forces. There follows a passage about Anlaf pretending to be a minstrel, then: Anlaf advancing, well prepared, at night, put to death, together with the whole of his followers, a certain bishop, 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.

Malmesbury reproduces an extract from his source poem (Giles translation):

His subjects governing with justest sway,
Tyrants o'eraw'd, twelve years had passed away,

When Europe's noxious pestilence stalk'd forth.
And poured the barbarous legions from the north.
The pirate Anlaf now the briny surge
Forsakes, while deeds of desperation urge.
Her king consenting, Scotia's land receives
The frantic madman, and his host of thieves :
Now flush'd with insolence they shout and boast,
And drive the harmless natives from the coast.
Thus, while the king, secure in youthful pride,
Bade the soft hours in gentle pleasures glide,
Though erst he stemmed the battle's furious tide,
With ceaseless plunder sped the daring horde,
And wasted districts with then- fire and sword.
The verdant crops lay withering on the fields
The glebe no promise to the rustic yields.
Immense the numbers of barbarian force.
Countless the squadrons both of foot and horse.
At length fame's rueful moan alarmed the king,
And bade him shun this ignominious sting,
That arms like his to ruffian bands should bend :
'Tis done : delays and hesitations end.
High in the air the threatening banners fly,
And call his eager troops to victory.
His hardy force, a hundred thousand strong
Whom standards hasten to the fight along.
The martial clamour scares the plund'ring band,
And drives them bootless tow'rds their native land.
The vulgar mass a dreadful carnage share,
And shed contagion on the ambient air,
While Anlaf, only, out of all the crew
Escapes the meed of death, so justly due.
Reserved by fortune's favor, once again
When Athelstan was dead, to claim our strain.

Michael Wood’s translation of the first part of this poem might be more pertinent to the battle location:

Now barbarian savagery descends on Northumbria
Now quitting the ocean the pirate Anlaf camps on land
Mouthing forbidden and savage threats
To this Bacchant fury, at the will of the king of the Scots,
The Northumbrians give willing assent
And now puffed up with pride they frighten the air with words;
The natives submit, the whole province gives up the to the proud.

Giles is very kind to Æthelstan about his response to Olaf’s invasion. Mynors, et al, more accurately, we think, are blunt in their Oxford Medieval Texts translation. It seems that Æthelstan allowed the invaders to plunder at will until he was shamed into a response:

The people of the entire region yield to their arrogance,
For because our king, bold and spirited in his youth,
Had retired from war long ago and languished in sluggish leisure,
They defiled everything in their relentless plundering,
Afflicting the wretched fields with spreading fires.
Verdant grass had withered on all the plains;
Diseased grain had mocked the prayers of farmers;
So great was the barbaric force of the footmen and riders,
The charge of galloping steeds,
Rumour’s complaint finally roused the king,
Lest he allow himself to be branded with the mark
that his armed men had submitted to the barbarian ax.

Simeon’s first chronicle in 'Historia Regum' for the year 937 says:

King Ethelstan fought at Wendune and put to flight king Onlaf, with six hundred and fifteen ships; also Constantine king of the Scots and the king of the Cumbrians, with all their host.

Simeon’s second chronicle in 'Historia Regum' for the year 937 says:

Anlaf the pagan, king of the Irishmen and of many of the islands, stirred up by his father-in-law Constantine, king of the Scots, entered the mouth of the river Humber with a powerful fleet. King Ethelstan and his brother Eadmund Atheling encountered them with an army in the place called Brunanburgh, and in a battle, lasting from morning till evening, they slew five kings and seven dukes, whom their adversaries had brought as auxiliaries, and shed more blood than had been shed up to that time in any war in England; and having compelled the kings Anlaf and Constantine to fly to their vessels, they returned with much joy; but the enemy, suffering the greatest distress, on account of the loss of their army, returned to their own country with a few followers.

Pseudo-Ingulf’s ‘Historia Monasterii Croylandensis’ seems to be embellished from Malmesbury, or perhaps they have a common lost source, both ‘uniquely’ stating that the battlefield was at ‘Bruneford’ and both mistaken that Constantine died on the battlefield. It says:

The renowned king Edward having filled the measure of his days, his son Athelstan succeeded him. Anlaf, the son of Sitric, the former king of Northumbria, having risen in rebellion against him, and a most fierce war being carried on, Constantine, king of the Scots, and Eugenius, king of the Cumbrians, and an infinite multitude of other barbarian kings and earls entered into a strict confederacy with the said Anlaf; upon which, all of these, with the nations subject to them, went forth to engage with king Athelstan at Brunford in Northumbria. When, however, the said king of the English approached with his army, although the barbarian before-named had collected together an infinite multitude of the Danes, Norwegians, Scots, and Picts, either through distrust of conquering, or in accordance with the usual craftiness of his nation, he preferred to resort to stratagem, when protected by the shades of night, rather than engage in open combat.

Accordingly, during the night, he made an attack upon the English, and slew a certain bishop, who the evening before had joined the army of king Athelstan. The cries of the dying being heard at a considerable distance, that king, who was encamped more than a mile from the place of attack, was, together with all his army, awoke from slumber while lying in their tents beneath the canopy of heaven; and on learning the particulars, they quickly aroused themselves. The dawn was just breaking, when they arrived at the place of slaughter; the king's troops coming up fresh and prepared for the onset against the barbarians, while they, on the other hand, had been toiling throughout the whole night, and were quite weary and worn out with fatigue. King Athelstan, who was in command of all the men of Wessex, charged the troops of Anlaf, while his chancellor, Turketul, who led on the Londoners and all the Mercians, engaged the forces of Constantine. The discharge of light arms being quickly put an end to, the battle was now fought foot to foot, spear to spear, and shield to shield. Numbers of men were slain, and, amid indiscriminate confusion, the bodies of kings and of common men were strewed upon the ground. After they had now fought for a long time with the most determined courage, and neither side would give way, (so vast was the multitude of the Pagans), the chancellor Turketul, taking with him a few of the Londoners, whom he knew to be most distinguished for valour, and a certain captain of the Wiccii, Singin by name, who was remarkable for his undaunted bravery, (being taller in stature than any of the rest, firm and brawny in bone and muscle, and excelling in strength and robustness any one of the London heroes), flew at their head to the charge against the foe, and, penetrating the hostile ranks, struck them down on the right and on the left.

He had now pierced the ranks of the men of Orkney and the Picts, and, bearing around him a whole forest of darts and javelins, which he had received upon his right trusty cuirass, with his followers had penetrated the dense masses of the Cumbrians and Scots. At last, amid torrents of blood, he reached the king himself, and unhorsed him; and when thus thrown to the ground, made redoubled efforts to take him alive. But the Scots, crowding around their king, used every possible exertion to save him; and, whole multitudes pressing on against a few, they all made Turketul their especial object of attack; who, as he was often in the habit of confessing in after-times, was beginning to repent of the rashness of which he had been guilty.

He was now on the very point of being overwhelmed by the Scots, and their king was just about to be snatched from his grasp, when, at that instant, the captain, Singin, pierced him with his sword. Constantine, the king of the Scots, being thus slain, his people retreated, and so left the road open to Turketul and his soldiers. The death of Constantine becoming known throughout the whole army, Anlaf took to flight; on which they all followed his example. On this occasion there fell of the Pagans an unheard-of multitude. Turketul frequently made it his boast, that in this hazardous combat he had been preserved by the Lord, and that he esteemed himself most happy and fortunate, in that he had never slain a man, and had not even wounded anyone, though at the same time everyone may lawfully fight for his country, and especially against the Pagans.

The ‘Chronica de Mailros’ (Chronicle of Melrose)  says:

Anlaf, King of Ireland, entered the Humber with his fleet. King Athelstan and his brother Edmund repelled the invasion and killed the leaders of the west at Brunanburch.

The 'Irish Annals of Ulster' entry for 937.6 says:

A great, lamentable and horrible battle was cruelly fought between the Saxons and the Norsemen, in which several thousands of Norsemen, who are uncounted, fell, but their king, Amlaíb, escaped with a few followers. A large number of Saxons fell on the other side, but Athelstan, king of the Saxons, enjoyed a great victory.

The 'Irish Annals of Clonmacnoise' entry for 931 says:

The Danes of Loghrie, arrived at Dublin. Awley with all the Danes of Dublin and north part of Ireland departed and went over seas. The Danes that departed from Dublin arrived in England, & by the help of the Danes of that kingdom, they gave battle to the Saxons on the plaines of othlyn, where there was a great slaughter of Normans and Danes, among which these ensueing captaines were slaine, Sithfrey and Oisle, 2 sones of Sithrick, Galey, Awley ffroit, and Moylemorrey the sonn of Cosse Warce, Moyle Isa, Gebeachan king of the Islands, Ceallagh prince of Scottland with 30000 together with 800 captives about Awley m’Godfrey, and abbot of Arick m’Brith, Iloa Deck, Imar, the king of Denmarks owen son with 4000 souldiers in his guard were all slaine.

The Irish ‘Annals of the Four Masters’ entry for 938 says:

Amhlaeibh Cuaran went to Cair-Abroc; and Blacaire, son of Godfrey, came to Ath-cliath. Depredations were committed by the Leinstermen in Leath-Chuinn ; namely, by Braen in Meath, Lorcan in Breagh, and Muircheartach in Cuulann ; and they carried great preys from these places. Cairbre Ua Cinaeidh, lord of Ui-Aitheachda, died. A victory was gained by the king of the Saxons over Constantine, sou of Acdh; Anlaf, or Amhlaeibh, son of Sitric; and the Britons.


William of Malmesbury and Ingulf’s accounts are the only source of some important events in the battle, including Æthelstan’s delayed response, Æthelstan’s deliberate retreat, the Bruneford battlefield name, and thus the ford battlefield location, the battlefield location ‘far into England’, and Olaf’s nocturnal surprise attack on the English camp. It is unfortunate, then, that many historians distrust them.

Malmesbury’s account contains some seriously unreliable information, most notably the miraculous appearance of a sword by divine intervention. Its credibility is not helped by claiming that Olaf sneaked into the English camp disguised as a minstrel which is implausibly similar to his earlier story about Alfred doing exactly the same to scout Guthrum’s camp. He claims that one of his sources was an early poem that he had just found – 200 years after the battle - then promptly re-lost. His other main source - from which his poems were reproduced, according to Lapidge - has never been seen since either.

Despite all this, we trust Malmesbury’s engagement narrative because, as Michael Wood says, his source is critical of Æthelstan’s slow response to Olaf’s invasion. No one would dare to invent anything so seditious. If we trust Malmesbury’s engagement narrative, we must also trust most of Ingulf’s because they are clearly linked.

A Humber landing?

Forty or so Brunanburh battlefield locations have been proposed. They fall roughly evenly into two cohorts: those that believe Olaf entered the Humber estuary before the Battle of Brunanburh and those that do not.

The earliest evidence for a Humber landing - perhaps the only original evidence - comes from John of Worcester (McGurk): “The heathen king of the Irish and of many islands, Olaf, at the instigation of his father-in-law Constantine, king of the Scots, entered the mouth of the River Humber with a strong fleet. King Athelstan, and his brother Edmund the etheling, encountered him at the head of their army at a place called Brunanburgh.”

Michael Wood summarises the other supporting evidence in his 2013 paper “Searching for Brunanburh: The Yorkshire Context of the ‘Great War’ of 937” in the Yorkshire Archaeological Journal. This is our interpretation of what he says:

  1. John of Worcester’s pre-Brunanburh Humber landing is corroborated by a bunch of Yorkshire chroniclers: “Liber de Exordio [Simeon], Roger of Howden, the Chronicle of Melrose, Ailred of Beverley, the Chester annalist Higden, and the Bridlington chronicler Langtoft”. A battle on the scale of Brunanburh, even though it had been fought two hundred years earlier, should have been relatively fresh in local lore. These chroniclers would not have repeated John of Worcester’s Humber landing claim if local lore contradicted it.
  2. The 938 entry in the Annals of the Four Masters (938.14) says: “Amhlaeibh Cuaran went to Cair-Abroc [Jorvik]”. It diverges to other events then returns for the last entry of the year (938.18): “A victory was gained by the king of the Saxons over Constantine, son of Acdh; Anlaf, or Amhlaeibh, son of Sitric; and the Britons”. ‘Amhlaeibh Cuaran’ is Olaf Sihtricson’s common name, so this annal seems to be saying that Olaf Sihtricson went to Jorvik in 938, decided to stay, and was defeated at Brunanburh later that year. It implies that the Brunanburh was somewhere near Jorvik.
  3. William of Malmesbury reproduces verbatim a Latin panegyric about Æthelstan that seems to confirm that the invaders took the entire province of Northumbria and that they were welcomed by the locals who gladly submitted to them. If this is so, Wood reasons: then York was undoubtedly at the centre of these events”.
  4. Two accounts say that local Danes joined Olaf’s campaign. The Annals of Clonmacnoise say that Guthfrithson gave battle: “with the help of the Danes of that kingdom”, Huntingdon says that Anlaf: “augmented his army with . . . Danes living in England”. Wood reasons: “the allies gave battle with the support of Danes within England who can hardly be other than Northumbrian”, because Deira had the densest population of ethnic Danes in England.
  5. Olaf would get more local support – provisions and equipment - for a Humber landing than anywhere else. Even though Olaf was ethnic Norse and pagan whereas Deira was mostly ethnic Danish and Christian, they would have overwhelmingly preferred him as leader to an Anglo-Saxon. This was shown by their welcome for him in 939. The other landing site candidates were either lightly populated or had a relatively small proportion of ethnic Vikings.
  6. Jorvik was the capital of Northumbria and by far its most important town. The rest of Deira immediately submitted without a fight when Jorvik was taken by Ivar in 866, again when taken by Æthelstan in 927, again when taken by Olaf Guthfrithson in 939. Invading the Humber estuary to take Jorvik would have been an obvious strategy for the invaders in 937.
  7. Deira would have been the best place for the invaders to defend. Æthelstan could only counterattack by land via Ermine Street or the Roman roads from Manchester and Ribchester. The former passed through 30 miles of hostile territory in the Five Boroughs, the latter crossed the Pennines which would be difficult for carts and ambush prone. It would have been relatively easy for Æthelstan to counterattack any of the other landing site candidates.

These clues look like good evidence for a Humber landing in 937 and no other accounts specifically contradict it. The most trustworthy and ubiquitous of the others is the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle which is not inconsistent with John of Worcester: It just says that Olaf arrived and left Brunanburh in a fleet of ships, without giving any useful clue about where they landed.

Then again, John of Worcester’s claim that the invaders sailed into the Humber estuary before the Battle of Brunanburh is the only specific supporting evidence, and he was writing 170 years after the event. He might have been confused. Immediately following Æthelstan’s death in 939, Olaf Guthfrithson sailed his fleet into the Humber estuary and retook Kingdom of York with minimal resistance. So, Olaf led two invasions into Northumbria within two years. John of Worcester might have conflated the two invasions, extracting the Humber landing from the second and the other details from the first. He provides no absolute years for the events in his chronicle, so it is impossible to be sure about his chronology, but he does not mention Olaf’s second invasion in 939 which suggests to us that he conflated Olaf’s invasions.

The chronicles that corroborate a pre-Brunanburh Humber landing probably copied the details from John of Worcester – where else would they find this evidence 200 years after the event? Wood is probably right that they consulted local elders about events back in Æthelstan’s time, but those elders are unlikely to have known that Olaf led his fleet into the Humber in 939 rather than 937.

The Annals of the Four Masters entry for 938 is odd, not least because it is difficult to believe that Olaf went to Jorvik in the months before the Battle of Brunanburh, which was, after all, in enemy hands at the time. We note that these Annals reckon that Sitric Cáech died in 925 whereas his orthodox death was in 927, and that Guthfrith of Ivar died in 932 whereas his orthodox death was in 934. This implies to us that it is a year or two earlier than the orthodox chronology. If so, its 938 annal is likely to refer to a year or two after 938 rather than a year earlier. Moreover, this is another chronicle that omits Olaf’s 939 conquest of Deira. We think it has spuriously conflated the two invasions, like John of Worcester.

All of these authors would probably have had access to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, the earliest and most authoritative source. If it mentioned Olaf’s second invasion in 939, there would be little chance that any of these chroniclers would have conflated Olaf’s invasions. But it does not. Indeed, only the D recension says that Olaf became King of Northumbria in 939, and it is very brief: “In this year the Northumbrians were false to their pledges, and chose Olaf from Ireland as their king.” We cannot be certain that John of Worcester and his followers conflated Olaf’s invasions but there is enough room for doubt to examine Wood’s other evidence.

First, his translation of one crucial stanza from Malmesbury’s poem. The original Latin is: Commodat assensum borealis terra serenum : Et jam grande tument, jam terrent aera verbis ; Cedunt indigenae, cedit plaga tota superbis.”. He translates: “The Northumbrians give willing assent. And now puffed up with pride they frighten the air with words; The natives submit, the whole province gives up the to the proud.” If accurate, it does give the impression that the invaders took the entire province of Northumbria if they did not land in the Humber basin. We are sceptical.

Wood says that use of the term ‘borealis terra’ for Northumbria “is commonplace in early sources on the North”. He provides no evidence and we cannot find any examples. A keyword search for ‘borealis terra’ or ‘terra borealis’ among the thousands of Latin manuscripts on archive.org returned one reference in England, William of Malmesbury’s poem. On the contrary, all the relevant Latin contemporary accounts use a Latin transliteration of the Old English name for Northumbria, namely ‘Norþhymbra’. Asser refers to Northumbria and Northumbrians 11 times in his Life of Alfred, always using the term Northanhymbros. Every one of the 49 definite references to Northumbria in Malmesbury’s Chronicles of the Kings of England has Northanimbrorum. It seems more likely to us that the poem’s ‘borealis terra’ meant exactly what says, ‘north land’. As for ‘province’, if that is what Malmesbury was trying to say, he would surely have used the Latin word from which it derives, ‘provincia’. In this context, ‘plaga’ almost certainly means ‘region’ or ‘territory’.

So, William of Malmesbury’s poem is saying that the ‘men of the north lands’ welcome the invaders, and that the region where they landed submits to them. The non-use of Northanimbrorum and provincia suggests to us that they did not land in what William of Malmesbury considered to be Northumbria. His other references to Northumbria nearly always mean land east of the Pennines. It implies to us that they landed on the west coast, so the Wirral, Lancashire, or Cumbria. Moreover, the poem suggests to us that the invaders were welcomed by local Norsemen or Hiberno-Norsemen, which is only likely if they landed on this stretch of England’s west coast. Any Britons or Angles living in the region, as the poem says, would have submitted meekly.

The rest of Wood’s supporting evidence is conjectural. If Olaf had landed in the Humber basin, he would have been welcomed by the local peasants because they were mostly ethnic Danes, but they would have been resisted by the nobles and landowners, all of whom were in thrall to Æthelstan. If Olaf had landed in the Humber basin, he should have recruited thousands of ethnic Danes into his army, but they are never mentioned as a significant faction in his force. Olaf probably would have wanted to land in the Humber basin for the last three reasons that Wood suggests, but it would have been risky without a local uprising, which could not be guaranteed and for which there is no evidence.

Conversely, there are reasons to doubt a Humber landing in 937. Dissenters, including supporters of the orthodox battlefield on the Wirral, always note that it would have been risky for Olaf to have sailed from Dublin around the north of Scotland at that time of year whereas it would have been quick, safe and easy to land on England’s northwest coast. We think this was not a major factor. Vikings were master sailors. They did avoid sailing in the North Sea during winter, but the pre-Brunanburh sailing was no later than mid-Autumn.

There are better reasons to dissent about a Humber basin landing:

  • Æthelstan had spent ten years preparing Deira for defence against local uprisings by installing vassal barons and garrisons. It seems implausible that they would submit to Olaf without a fight.
  • According to Heimskringla, Æthelstan appointed Eirik Bloodaxe as sub-king of Northumbria in 936. If it is right, he would have been in Jorvik at the time of the pre-Brunanburh invasion. If the invaders landed in the Humber basin, it is almost inconceivable that he would not have resisted them to the death, nor that his involvement would not be mentioned in a Norse Saga.
  • A muster in the Humber basin would have been difficult for the invaders. Olaf’s Hiberno-Norse arrived by ship. Constantine’s Scots, Owain’s Britons and the local Danes arrived at the rendezvous on foot. It seems unlikely that Æthelstan’s sub-kings or earls would allow them to march through Northumbria unmolested.
  • Supply lines would have been problematic. The invaders needed to feed many thousands of men. Local Northumbrian landowners, all in Æthelstan’s thrall, would have been uncooperative, and Æthelstan had probably issued instructions to burn grain stores and slaughter livestock upon news of an invasion. If the invaders were not supplied locally, it is difficult to imagine how they ate. Blocking seaborn deliveries just needed some chains across the lower Ouse, and it seems implausible that the invaders could drive dozens of cattle and/or hundreds of sheep through more than 200 miles of enemy territory every day.
  • Malmesbury’s poem laments that the invaders plundered wherever they went. It seems unlikely that Olaf would have plundered Deira or the Five Boroughs, north and south of the Humber, respectively, because both had predominantly ethnic Danish populations that would otherwise support his invasion.

In summary, Olaf might have landed in the Humber basin before Brunanburh, but there is reason to doubt all the supporting evidence and reason to think it unlikely. If a good case can be made for a battlefield elsewhere, in our opinion, the Humber basin landing evidence should not be used against it.

Brunanburh battlefield location clues

Considering the quantity of contemporary Brunanburh accounts, there are discouragingly few useful clues to help find the battlefield. Just about the only certainty is that the battle was fought in the north of modern England, although even this has some dissenters. Here are the other locational clues:

  1. The battle’s name should be a good locational clue. It is usually referred to as ‘Brunanburh’, but also as Brunanbyrig, Brunebirih, Brunnanburh, Brunnanwerc, Brunnanbyri, Brunford, Brunandune, Weondune, Wendune, Brune, Brunefeld, Plaines of Othlyn, Duinbrunde, and/or Cad Tybrunawc (‘battle of Bruna’s house’ in Old Welsh).
  2. ASC (Whitelock) says that Æthelstan’s men chase the fleeing invaders: “The whole day long the West Saxons with mounted companies kept in pursuit of the hostile peoples”, then: “There the prince of the Norsemen was put to flight, driven perforce to the prow of his ship with a small company”; John of Worcester (McGurk): “the conquerors retired in triumph, having driven the kings Anlaf and Constantine to their ships”. So, the invaders fled back to their ships. It took most of the day, which implies that the battle was in the morning and that the ships were a long run from the battlefield, perhaps ten to twenty miles.
  3. Malmesbury (Giles) says that Olaf had: “proceeded far into England, when he was opposed at Brunefeld/Bruneford”. Some historians interpret it to mean that they marched 100 miles or more into the English Midlands. They are wrong. Malmesbury uses the Latin adverb ‘multum’ for the distance, translated by Giles as ‘far’. Mynors has ‘some distance’. In this context, it usually means ‘much’, which is consistent with Clue 2 above, meaning that the battlefield was 10 to 20 miles into England from Olaf’s camp.
  4. ASC (Whitelock) says that after the battle: “Then the Norsemen, the sorry survivors from the spears, put out in their studded ships on to dinge’s mere, to make for Dublin across the deep water”. So, Olaf’s
  5. Pseudo-Ingulf (Riley): Constantine, the king of the Scots, being thus slain, his people retreated, and so left the road open to Turketul and his soldiers”. Malmesbury (Mynors) says: Anlaf advancing, well prepared, at night, …”. Pseudo-Ingulf concurs: Accordingly, during the night, he made an attack upon the English, …”. Pseudo-Ingulf specifically says that the battle was on a road and these other accounts seem to agree. Malmesbury’s A manuscript and Pseudo-Ingulf say that the battlefield was at ‘Bruneford’. A ford is where a road traverses flowing water, and Olaf would not have attempted a night attack unless the camps were joined by a good road.
  6. ASC says that Olaf’s Hiberno-Norse arrived and left by ship. Standard Viking practice – at Appledore, Torksey and Repton, for example – was to camp beside their ships. Therefore, the Hiberno-Norse camp was probably near where a navigable river intersected a Roman road.
  7. Simeon says of Æthelstan: But trusting in the protection of St. Cuthbert, he slew a countless multitude of these people, and drove those kings out of his realm”. St Cuthbert was patron saint of Northumbria. His relics were at Chester-le-Street in Northumbria. Simeon is implying that the battlefield was in Northumbria.
  8. Pseudo-Ingulf (Riley) says that Olaf: “went forth to engage with king Athelstan at Brunford in Northumbria”, confirming that the battle was in Northumbria.
  9. Malmesbury’s poem (Mynors) explains that Æthelstan dithered while the invaders plundered: “For because our king, though young and self-confident, had long ago given up war and passed his time in indolent leisure, they ruined everything by continual raids, and laid waste the sad fields by spreading fire; in every meadow the green grass had withered, and the sickly grain had mocked the prayers of the husbandman; so great and so barbarous was the great mass of men both foot and horse, the concourse of innumerable steeds. Rumour's complaints at length aroused the king not to allow himself to be branded by the disgrace of yielding to the barbarian axe. Without delay he opens to the breeze the ensigns that lead his victorious squadrons, a hundred threatening standards. says that Æthelstan allowed the invaders to plunder at will until he was shamed into a response.”
  10. Malmesbury’s poem says that men of the ‘north lands’ welcome the invaders and that the other locals submit to them.

Even these clues are not as helpful as they seem because none of the battlefield place names survive, nor ‘dingesmere . It is clear from Simeon and Pseudo-Ingulf that the invaders landed in Northumbria and that the Battle of Brunanburh was fought in Northumbria, but as we explain the introduction, its borders shifted over time. Northumbria means ‘north of the Humber’, which infers east of the Pennines, and this is the orthodox understanding of the term. But from thirty years before Brunanburh until 150 years after Northumbria included most of modern Lancashire. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle’s entry for 923, for instance, says that Manchester was in Northumbria.

The most specific clue, and the only one supporting many of the battlefield candidates, is its name. Medieval battles were seldom fought at settlements. Their names typically refer to the nearest settlement that others would recognise. It could be several miles from the actual battlefield, more in sparsely populated areas. Some of the battlefield candidates are on the Lancashire Plain, which was sparsely populated away from the coast. Domesday lists only five settlements totalling 87 households between the Lune and the Mersey, an area of over 1000km2. Moreover, ASC-D says that the battle was ymbe Brunan-burh’, ‘around Brunanburh’, so perhaps five miles or more.

Brunanburh’s etymology is discussed in expert detail in Paul Cavill’s chapter of the Brunanburh Casebook. A summary should suffice here. Most of the spellings start ‘Brun’, an Old English word usually meaning ‘brown’, but which Cavill thinks more likely to refer to the personal name ‘Bruna’. Perhaps they are linked. Hardwick speculates that Bruna and his followers, the Bruningas, were so-named because they had swarthy brown skin. Some of the battlefield names start ‘Brunnan’, double-n, an Old English word that is said to mean ‘spring’ or ‘well’. ‘burh’ means ‘fortification’ or ‘stronghold’. There are other variations of the battle’s name. ‘dune’ can mean ‘hill’ or can mean ‘fortification’. ‘ford’ means ‘ford’. ‘werc’ usually means ‘earthwork fortification’.

So, if its names are anything to go by, the battlefield was beside a ford – which infers at the intersection of a road and a river - near an elevated fortification at a place named ‘Brune’ or ‘Brunan’, or at a spring beside a fortification or hill at a place known as ‘Wen’ or ‘Weon’, or all of these.

According to toponymy expert Paul Cavill, the only place in England for which there are attested records of previously having been known as ‘Brunanburh’ is Bromborough on the Wirral. Historians are gravitating towards this being the most likely battlefield location. We need to review the evidence.

A Wirral landing and battlefield?

Figure 3: After Griffiths - Norse place names (dots) and Hiberno-Norse controlled areas (hatch)

Gibson recognised in the 17th century that Bromborough’s name might derive from a place once known as ‘Brunanburh’. It is still the main evidence supporting the orthodox Wirral battlefield. Halloran, for one, reckons that alleged name evolution from ‘Bruna’ to ‘Brom’ is probably bogus, so it is good to check its other supporting evidence.

A northwest coast landing would have been quick and easy for Olaf, immediately opposite Dublin on the prevailing wind. And safe: Cumbria was in the realm of Olaf’s ally King Owain, Cumbria and modern Lancashire were culturally Norse with many ethnic Norse inhabitants, and it had several Hiberno-Norse settlements. Areas of pre-Brunanburh Hiberno-Norse control (hatching) and Norse place names (black dots) are depicted on Figure 3, which is based on David Griffiths’ maps.

Figure 4: Lancashire and Wirral relief heat map with Margary 70 Roman road

Bromborough fits some of our battlefield clues too. It was near a stronghold, namely Ince. It was on a navigable stretch of the Mersey. The RRRA think there was probably a Roman road from Warrington to Chester which might have had a spur to Meols, and that either the road or the spur might have had a spur to Ince. If so, Bromborough could have been near where a Roman road meets a navigable stretch of the Mersey. And it was a Hiberno-Norse colony. The Fragmentary Annals of Ireland record that Alfred’s daughter Lady Æthelflæd, acting queen of the Mercians when her husband Æthelred was terminally ill, gave this land to Ingimund of the Hiberno-Norse in 907. Local placenames suggest that Ingimund’s settlement spread south from an original base near the coast until it reached Dibbinsdale and Raby, thereby incorporating Bromborough.

Wirral Archaeological Society have been studying the area around Bromborough for many years. In 2022, they published a long-awaited report into their findings. It shows no evidence of a battle, so they have resolved to widen their search. They did find evidence of 10th century metal recycling, but this was probably of items seized from the perfidious Hiberno-Norse who were evicted from the Wirral and Lancashire coast following Brunanburh.

Evidence against a Wirral landing and battlefield is substantial. Most specifically, the Wirral’s Hiberno-Norse colony was an enclave within Mercia. It was not in Northumbria and never has been, thereby contradicting Clues 6 and 7. Dibbinsdale and Raby formed the southern border - the latter’s name means ‘farmstead on the border’. The only land access was the Roman road through the nearby Mercian stronghold of Chester. Several contemporary accounts imply that Constantine’s troops returned to Alba on foot. One account implies that Owain’s Britons arrived and left on foot, another that the invaders were augmented by local Danes who probably arrived on foot. But none of the invaders could have arrived or left the Wirral on foot because they would have had to pass near the Mercian burhs of Thelwall and Runcorn, and through the Mercian stronghold at Chester.

Malmesbury reckons that the invaders had to wait weeks for Æthelstan to arrive in the battle theatre. The Wirral was barren. Ingimund complained to Æthelflaed that it was too barren for his people to subsist. Eventually, he attacked Chester, hoping to annex better land, but got repulsed. If the Wirral could barely support a hundred families, it could not sustain Olaf’s army. They could only have been resupplied by ship, but Æthelstan would surely have blockaded the Dee and Mersey to starve them into a quick surrender. If the invaders did muster on the Wirral, they would surely have besieged Chester, hoping to plunder the surrounding abundant farmland, but there is no mention of either eventuality in the contemporary accounts.

Bromborough is an even less likely camp or battlefield. It was pancake flat, only 10m above sea level, and it backed onto mudflats and a stream. If the invaders camped on the Wirral, Olaf would surely have made for Thurstaston Hill, the only significant elevation on the Wirral with its only natural defence, but that would be inconsistent with the Bromborough name clue.

Malmesbury says that the invaders proceeded “multum [much or far or some distance] into England” from their camp to the battlefield. The orthodox Wirral Brunanburh theory has them marching six miles from Thingwall to Bromborough. It is not ‘multum’ and it is not proceeding ‘into England’.

The engagement sounds wrong too. Malmesbury and Pseudo-Ingulf say that it starts with a night attack on the English camp. There is reason for scepticism about some parts of Malmesbury’s account – see above - but not this one we think. If the invaders camped on the Wirral, the English army could only have been in Chester, but Malmesbury and Pseudo-Ingulf imply that the English were on open ground by a river, not in a fortified town. And if the English were in Chester, Olaf would have had to affect a siege rather than a nocturnal sneak attack.

The flight is also inconsistent. ASC says that Æthelstan’s horsemen pursued the invaders ‘ondlongne daeg’, ‘the whole day long’. Yet the furthest point on the Wirral from Bromborough - Meols - is less than ten miles away. It took us just over four hours to walk, and we stopped for lunch at the Lady Lever Art Gallery. Olaf’s men were young, fit and running for their lives. Even without paths, they would have travelled at twice our pace. Moreover, Wirral battlefield supporters think that Olaf’s fleet was moored near Thingwall, less than seven miles from their proposed battlefield. It seems implausible that it took them all day to get seven miles.

We tend to agree with Kevin Halloran who reckons that Bromborough is an example of “academic gravitational accretion”, by which he means that academics tend to support the most popular academic theory because it avoids sticking their neck out, even if it has negligible or questionable supporting evidence. Over time, this can develop into a specious consensus.

In our opinion, the Wirral was too small, too barren and too siege prone for Olaf to have risked landing, mustering or camping there. Plus, it does not match the leaders’ tactics, at least as reported in the contemporary accounts, it does not match the geographical descriptions in the contemporary accounts, it makes no military sense, and it contradicts more than half the battlefield clues.

A Lancashire landing

If Olaf landed in Northumbria but not in the Humber basin and not on the Wirral, he must have landed on England’s northwest coast. Modern Cumbria was not in Northumbria at the time, and Margary 70 did not cross any navigable rivers as it passed through Cumbria. By a process of elimination, Olaf probably landed in modern Lancashire, between the Mersey and modern Cumbria.

One of the battlefield clues is that Olaf’s camp and Æthelstan’s camp were joined by a Roman road and that Olaf’s camp and ships were beside a navigable stretch of estuary or river. The only Lancashire rivers navigable up to Margary 70 were the Lune, Ribble and Mersey. Each had a Roman stronghold at the junction of river and road. According to Tacitus, Agricola himself “surveyed and fixed the stations” at their heads of tide. They are: Galacum near Lancaster on the Lune, Walton-le-Dale near Preston on the Ribble, and Wilderspool near Warrington on the Mersey. Olaf’s camp was probably at one of these strongholds.

Figure 5: Lancashire Roman roads

Malmesbury says that Æthelstan deliberately retreated to draw Olaf further into England, presumably south of wherever Olaf landed and camped. Yet Olaf was not drawn more than running distance from his ships because his men fled there after the battle. If Malmesbury is right, Æthelstan must have taken his army close to Olaf’s camp before retreating no further than running distance. Perhaps then, he originally intended to attack Olaf’s camp based on intelligence coming back from his scouts, but decided it was too well defended when he saw it for himself.

Æthelstan would not have camped in an unfortified location near to Olaf’s camp, so he would have retreated back to the first defendable location to the south. If Olaf was at Lancaster, this would probably have been Walton-le-Dale; if Walton-le-Dale, then Wigan or Burnley; if Wilderspool, then Chester. But Æthelstan was camped on open ground when attacked, so Olaf could not have been camped at Wilderspool, which leaves Lancaster and Walton-le-Dale.

According to Malmesbury and Pseudo-Ingulf, Olaf sortied from his camp to attack the English camp at night. The attack started not long before dawn and lasted until a couple of hours after dawn. Olaf and his barons fled on horseback and left on ship before any men arrived to crew. The rest of his men must have fled on foot. ASC says that Æthelstan’s horsemen pursued them ‘the whole day long’, so there was perhaps 10 to 20 miles between the battlefield and Olaf’s camp.

If Olaf camped at Lancaster, there is a promising battlefield candidate 10 miles south at Bruna Hill near Bowgreave. As far as we know, Tim Clarkson, author of ‘Strathclyde and the Anglo-Saxons in the Viking Age’, was the first to postulate that Bruna Hill might be the battlefield and it is credible. It is at the junction of the Roman road and the River Calder, so it was beside a defendable ford. It is a hill, so it might have been known as a ‘dune’. Many hills had hillforts, so it might have been known as a ‘burh’ or ‘werc’ too. On the other hand, it is at the lower end of what we consider to be all-day running distance from Olaf’s ships, and it is only 25m above the surrounding plain. It barely counts as a hill, and it was probably too low to have had a hillfort. It is a plausible Brunanburh battlefield, but we think we can do better.

Charles Hardwick worked through similar reasoning 140 years ago. He decided that Olaf camped at Walton-le-Dale. He pointed out that lack of standardised spelling meant that the ‘Brun’ from Brunanburh might have been corrupted to (or from) Burn, Brom, Brum, Broom, Bran, Ban, Bourne, Brink or Brin. He adds that the Lancashire dialect also allows for ‘r’ to be switched with an adjacent vowel, referring to a ‘bird’ as a ‘brid’, for example. With all these possibilities, he reckons that virtually anywhere in the country could have local placenames that might match Brunanburh, but that Walton-le-Dale has more than most. Brindle, Brinscall, Burnicroft and Brownedge are all nearby with names that might once have started ‘Brun’. But it is the Cuerdale Hoard that most attracted him to Walton-le-Dale: “I maintain that the discovery of the long buried treasure at Cuerdale, in 1840, has furnished the key by which we may probably unlock the mystery.”

Cuerdale is just upstream of Walton-le-Dale. The hoard was found a mile northeast of the Roman settlement. It is the second largest hoard of Viking silver found anywhere in the world, four times bigger than anything else found in Britain. The immense value of the hoard and the source of the coins and trinkets inside make it likely that the hoard belonged to a king. As Hardwick says, it seems likely that its burial: “was caused by some signal discomfiture or military defeat, in order to prevent its falling into the hands of the enemy. Its non-recovery afterwards would naturally result from the slaughter of the parties acquainted with the precise locality of its deposit.”  This would match Olaf’s circumstances alone, as far as we know.

The hoard has 45 coins stamped ‘Eadweard’ (reigned 901 to 925), so it cannot have been buried earlier than 901. The consensus is between 905 and 910, to match when King Ivar II and his Hiberno-Norse Vikings settled on the Fylde coast after being evicted from Dublin. One theory is that Ivar wanted to use the hoard to fund the reconquest of Dublin. Odd then that it was still there in the 19th century, because Ivar’s son Sihtric retook Dublin in 917. Eadweard’s coins could have been struck any time before 925, 34 others stamped ‘Ludovicus’ could have been stuck up to 928. And, of course, the latest coins in the hoard only define the earliest date the hoard could have been buried. One possibility is that it languished in the Dublin treasury for 10 years or more, before being brought to England and buried by Olaf, hoping to use it to reward his troops for defeating Æthelstan.

Hardwick comes unstuck, in our opinion, by going on to suggest that the battle was fought at or near Cuerdale. This assumes that Malmesbury was wrong that Olaf tried a sneak attack, and that the ASC was wrong that it took most of the day for Olaf’s men to flee to their ships. Perhaps both accounts are wrong, but we think a better case can be made if they are right.

A Burnley battlefield?

Burnley  was first proposed as the Brunanburh battlefield location by local historian and teacher T T Wilkinson in the 1850s. It is the only established ‘west-coast’ battlefield candidate other than Bromborough. It is still being actively promoted, by Damian Bullen, among others. Livingstone lists the three main supporting arguments:

A. Not only is Burnley in the “battle zone” between north and south, it sits on the Dublin-to-York land route known to be used by the Vikings.

B. There is good reason to think a medieval, perhaps even a late Anglo-Saxon battle was fought near Burnley.

C. Burnley sits on the River Brun, and the letters brun are in Brunanburh. Therefore Burnley is Brunanburh.

We are unconvinced that any of these are valid.

A. The Dublin to York land route used the Margary 703 and 72 Roman roads. It went from Walton-le-Dale to York via Ribchester, Elslack and Ilkley. It did not pass within ten miles of Burnley.

B. The “good reasons to think that a medieval, perhaps even a late Anglo-Saxon battle was fought near Burnley” are unexceptional. Wilkinson thinks the battlefield was at a Burnley suburb named Saxifield, where Saxon era human bones were allegedly unearthed, and where there was a nearby place known as ‘Battle Field’. It is the same sort of anecdotal evidence that supports many of the other 40-plus battlefield candidates.

C. Burnley takes its name from the River Burn, which runs through the town centre and was once known as the River Brun. It could therefore be the source of the ‘Brun’ battlefield names: Brunanburh, in all its spellings, Brunford, Brunefeld, Brunesburh, Brunandune and Brune. Etymology expert Paul Cavill disagrees. He reckons that the ‘Brunan’ part of Brunanburh can only derive from ‘Bruna’, or less likely, ‘Brune’. If he is right, Brunanburh cannot derive from the ‘River Brun’ or ‘River Burn’.

Damien  Bullen has updated the ‘Brunanburh at Burnley’ theory. He has a large section on etymology, none of which is pertinent if Cavill is right that Brunanburh cannot derive from Brun. He has a bunch of evidence related to Egil’s Saga, none of which is pertinent either because, in our opinion, Egil’s Saga is not describing the Battle of the Brunanburh. He makes three new points:

1.  “The hills resounded / There many men born in Denmark lay / Pierced by spears, stabbed under their shields”. As Bullen says, hardly anywhere could better fit this description than Burnley, which is surrounded 300° by steep hills.

2. A Saxon burh might have been at Castle Hill in Burnley. If Cavill is wrong, it might have been named Brunanburh. There is only anecdotal evidence of such a burh, but Bullen reckons that Burnley would have been an ideal location for one: “placed at a great crossroads of so many Dark Age thoroughfares”. He describes them: “Burnley sits at the confluence of three valleys; the plains of West Lancashire & the seacoast can be accessed to the west; to the east lies the rugged vale of Calderdale – leading to Yorkshire & the Humber – while to the north lies Colne & its old Roman road rolling east & west. To the south a road over the moors takes you to the vales of Bacup & Rawtenstall, then on to Manchester & the south of England.”

3. Bullen reckons that the ‘Plaines of Othlynn’ – the location of the battlefield according to the Annals of Clonmacnoise - referred to the route taken by St Ethedreda between Altham, near Burnley, and Bradford. Liber Eliensis  says: “The Queen [Etheldreda] and her two companions travelled as far as the Humber, over which they were safely conveyed to Winteringham; from thence they diverted about ten stadiis [roughly a mile] to a small village named Alftham which was almost surrounded by marsh”. From Alftham she continued her journey to Ely. On the way she got tired and slept at a place named Stow. A huge ash tree grew where she planted her staff. The Welsh name for ash trees is ‘ynn’. Bullen associates Alftham with Altham near Burnley and Othlynn with Etheldreda’s ‘ynn’, so he believes that ‘Plaines of Othlynn’ referred to the land between Altham and Bradford.

In our opinion, all Bullen’s extra evidence is unreliable.

1. The stanza comes from a modern English translation of Huntingdon’s Latin translation of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle poem. Huntingdon’s translation must be either figurative or faulty because the original Anglo-Saxon Chronicle poem says nothing of the sort.

2a. The evidence for Castle Hill burh is anecdotal, from Rev Thomas Whitaker’s 1876 book ‘An History of the Original Parish of Whalley’. He found “obscure trenches” beside a farmhouse at Castle Hill, just south of Towneley Park. He explains that they came from: “the residence, unquestionably, of one of those independent lords before the Conquest”. He might not have questioned it, but we do because he is prone to unjustified jumps of reasoning. Even if it was a building, there is no evidence it was a major residence, and if it was, there is no evidence that it was Saxon, and if it was, there is no evidence it might have been a burh. The only reason to think it might have been anything significant is the name Castle Hill. It sounds post-Conquest to us and if it was Saxon, it would have been a weird place to locate a burh, surrounded by higher ground, apart from to the north, and 3km from the River Burn, which was hidden from view by the south bank bluff.

2b. Burnley did have a nearby ‘road’ and rivers, but it was not some sort of Saxon era transport hub. It was near the confluence of the Burn, Don and Calder, but they were not navigable to Burnley, their sources were less than five miles upstream, and there is no reason they would have had any local traffic with no upstream settlements and no natural resources. Burnley was probably at the junction of the Manchester to Elslack ridgeway with a cross-Pennine ridgeway to Halifax. These were major pre-Roman packhorse routes but most of the post-Roman cross-Pennine military and freight traffic would have been carried on the Margary 72 and 712 Roman highways from York to Ribchester and York to Manchester. Barrett reckons that the Saxon era west Pennine population was isolated farmsteads and Archiuk shows no evidence of Roman or Saxon era occupation, so the ridgeways are unlikely to have had much local traffic either. Nor were these ‘roads’ as we understand the term. They were too steep in places for loaded carts, there is no evidence of them being paved before the 12th century, and then only one slab wide like a garden path. If there was no paved road to Burnley and/or no local population centre and/or no natural resources, there was nothing to defend, so no likelihood that Burnley had a burh and no rational reason why Æthelstan would take his army within 10 miles of it before Brunanburh.

3. Liber Eliensis says that Alftham is less than a mile from Winteringham, Lincs. Nowhere survives with that name in that vicinity, which prompts Bullen to believe it referred to Altham near Burnley. It seems incredibly unlikely. She would not have crossed the Humber if she was heading to Altham or anywhere else westwards. It would have been an 85-mile detour out of her way. There are no indications that she ever stepped foot west of the Pennines. ‘ynn’ is plural, meaning multiple ash trees, so it is unlikely to be represent Etheldreda’s magic tree. And all the land between Altham and Bradford is the Pennines, which is about as un-plain like as anywhere in England.

To summarise, in our opinion, all the Burnley Brunanburh evidence is equivocal or untrustworthy, apart from that it was in Northumbria and just about within fleeing distance of a rebel camp at Walton-le-Dale. This is not specific enough to make it a good battlefield candidate.

Figure 6: Pendle hills heat relief, Burnley shown as black dot

We have some other problems with Burnley’s bona fides. It is almost surrounded by steep hills (Figure 6), which makes it look too siege-prone for the English camp. Also, if there was no Saxon era local population centre at Burnley and no paved Roman road within 10 miles: 1) It contradicts Pseudo-Ingulf who says that the battle was fought on a road; 2) It contradicts Malmesbury and Pseudo-Ingulf because the invaders could not have affected a nocturnal attack; 3) There is no reason for it to have had a named ford, in which case it could not have been Brunford; and 4) It is unlikely to have had a name.

We agree that Burnley is a more credible battlefield candidate than anywhere on the Wirral, but we think a better case can be made for Wigan.

The Battle of Brunanburh at Wigan

Hardwick reckons that Olaf camped at Walton-le-Dale, based mainly on the Cuerdale Hoard. As we say above, Lancaster and Wilderspool (Warrington) are the only other credible candidates. They were at the heads of tide of Lancashire’s three major rivers: the Ribble, Lune and Mersey respectively. Walton-le-Dale seems by far the most likely camp to us because it was at the western end of the Roman road across the Pennines to York. It had the best communications, the easiest way for local sympathisers to join and the best port on the northwest coast.

If Olaf camped at Walton-le-Dale, we think that Æthelstan must have camped at Wigan. In this section we will check how Wigan matches the other clues.

It has to be said that every clue is equivocal, unreliable, or open to interpretation but, in our opinion, using the most straightforward interpretation of each clue, Wigan matches all but one. The exception is John of Worcester’s Humber basin landing, which we discuss above.

Wigan and place name clues

Wigan’s name might be a memorial to Brunanburh. Rev John Whitaker, as far as we know, was the first to point it out: “Wig signifies a fight in Saxon, and Wig-en is only the plural of it.This is mostly verified by Bosworth-Toller, which says ‘wig’ is Old English for ‘war’ or ‘battle’, ‘wigan’ for ‘to fight, make war’ (see below). The term ‘wig’ is used three times in the Brunanburh poem always meaning ‘battle’ or ‘war’.

Local toponymy experts are divided. Henry Harrison agrees with Whitaker, Henry Wyld dissents. He is stumped about the origin of Wigan’s name but says: “Harrison’s identification with O. E. wig, ‘war’, or wiga, ‘warrior’, seems to me an absurdity. First, places are not named in this way; secondly, these O. E. words are poetical words, and would not be used in place names, even if such designations were used; thirdly, the Mod. form absolutely prohibits such an etymology.”  We are no experts, but his first point is contradicted by the similar and contemporary place name Battle, and by the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle entry for 851 which names a battle location in Devon ‘Wicganbeorge’; his second by the phrase “Wíges on wénum” - ‘expectation of battle’ - from the unpoetic Old English translation of Exodus; his second and third by 15 Old English proper nouns – 13 personal names, two places - listed by Sweet that take exactly this form.

Wikipedia dissents too. It reckons that Wigan’s name: “probably originally meant a ‘village’ or ‘settlement’. It has also been suggested that the name is Celtic, named after a person called Wigan”. Both are feasible. ‘Wic’ is Old English for ‘dwelling place’. ‘A Dictionary of British Place Names’ reckons that the names Wigan, Wiggonby and others derive from the Celtic personal name ‘Wicgan’. But both seem unlikely to us. We don’t know of any other examples of substantial Roman settlements taking such a humble English name and there are hardly any other places in this region that take their names from Celts.

Ambiguity and other difficulties interpreting the battlefield location clues mean that the most widely used battlefield location clue is its name. Even this is fraught with difficulty because the contemporary accounts have nine stabs at it, and they suggest three alternative names.

Source

Date

Battlefield name

ASC-A

~955

Brunnanburh

ASC-B

Early

Brunnanburh

ASC-C

Early

Brunnanburh

ASC-D

Early

Brunanburh

ASC-E

Early

Brunanbyrig

ASC-F

Early

Brunanbyri

Sawyer 443

Early

Bruninga feld

Chronicle of Æthelweard

~ 980

Brunandune

Annales Cambriae

~ 990

Brune

Simeon - Libellus de Exordio

~ 1110

Weondune, Brunnanbyrig, Brunnanwerc[h]

John of Worcester

~ 1120

Brunanburh

William of Malmesbury

~ 1125

Brunefeld, Bruneford

Henry of Huntingdon

~ 1125

Brunesburh

Simeon - Historia Regum

~ 1150

Wendune, Brunanburh

Chronicle of Melrose

~ 1170

Brunanburch

Scottish Chronicle

~ 1350

Duinbrunde

Pseudo-Ingulf

~ 1350

Bruneford

Annals of Clonmacnoise

~ 1625

Plaines of Othlyn

 

Not quite as bad as it seems. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle has four spellings among the six recensions, but the suffixes - ‘burh’, ‘byrig’ and ‘byri’ - are cognates. There are only two spellings of the first two syllables, three with a single ‘n’, two with a double ‘n’, and one that has been converted from single ‘n’ to double ‘n’. The Cambridge manuscript of Simeon’s Libellus de Exordio has an ‘h’ on Brunnanwerch, whereas the Faustina manuscript does not, but they mean the same. So how do the names match Wigan?

It is widely accepted that the Roman military station of Coccium was at modern Wigan. ‘burh’ means ‘stronghold’ or ‘fortress’. Coccium was not a fortress but would probably have been fortified enough to warrant a ‘burh’ name.

‘Brun’ is an Old English word, usually meaning ‘brown’. Wigan lies within the ‘Pennine Coal Measures’ outcrop. According to Historic England’s ‘Merseyside Stone Building Atlas’, the local sandstones used for building “weather to yellow, buff and brown”, so the name could apply to the colour of the buildings. More likely, as Paul Cavill proposes, Bruna was a Saxon personal name. There is a place named Brownlow four miles southwest of Wigan. A ‘low’ suffix usually derives from ‘hlaw’, Old English for a round hill or tumulus. There are some thirty places in England with a ‘low’ suffix, nearly half of which take the first part of their name from a Saxon personal name, presumably the person interred therein: Tæppa at Taplow (our home), Bassa at Baslow, Hucca at Hucklow, and so on. It follows then that Brownlow was once ‘Bruna’s Hlaw’, or Brunlow, named after a local chieftain Bruna. It seems likely that there was a chieftain named Bruna on the Lancashire Plain, because of the aforementioned Bruna’s Hill as well as Brown Edge, Burnicroft, Bryn, Brindle and Brinscall all nearby.

If it follows the pattern elsewhere, Bruna’s tribe and their land would have been known as the ‘Bruningas’. It is analogous with the Hastings Peninsula, for instance, known as ‘Hæstingas’ in Saxon times, named after a tribal chieftain Hæsta. Local features take the name: the Roman fortress in Hæstingas was known as ‘Hæstingaceastre’, the port as ‘Hæstingaport’, and so on. The same would probably apply to local features in Bruningas. ‘dune’ usually means ‘hill’, ‘werc’  means ‘earthwork’, ‘feld’ means ‘open uncultivated land’, ‘ford’ means ‘ford’. So, for example, ‘Brunanburh’ would be the ‘burh’ in ‘Bruningas’. It means that the Brunanburh battlefield was close to a stronghold (Brunanburh), a ford (Brunford), a hill (Brunandune), and open uncultivated land (Brunefeld, Bruningafeld), all of which would apply to Wigan, located as it is between the hills of Scholes and Brownlow, and beside the lowest ford on the River Douglas.

The B and C recensions of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, as well as John of Worcester, use the alternative spelling ‘Brunnanburh’. Simeon refers to the battlefield as ‘Brunnanbyrig’, which means the same. ‘brunnan’ with double-n is said to be Old English for ‘spring’ or ‘well’. It is news to us, but the word ‘brunnen’ means ‘spring’ or ‘well’ in modern German which has similar roots. Michael Wood uses this interpretation of the battle’s name to support his theory that the battlefield is near Doncaster. It would apply equally to Wigan, which is surrounded by freshwater springs. One of its wards is named New Springs, which implies that there were ‘old springs’, and we were reminded by Bill Aldridge that there were ancient springs and wells in Wigan town centre. As he said to us, it was a spa town in the 18th century and the recently discovered Roman bath house must have been fed by a spring.

Simeon says that the battlefield was also known as ‘Weondune’, later spelled ‘Wendune’. Victoria Koivisto-Kokko, an expert in Old English pronunciation, explains that a ‘g’ before or after ‘i’ or ‘o’ was a velar fricative, pronounced as a guttural gurgle that has no parallel in Latin. Old English ‘Wigan’ would therefore have been transliterated into Latin as ‘Weon’. This is perhaps the strongest etymological evidence that the Battle of Brunanburh was fought at Wigan.

Adrian Grant has an alternative theory. He believes that the ‘Weon/Wen’ part of ‘Weondune/Wendune’ was the Latin transliteration of Brythonic ‘gwyn’, meaning ‘white’ or ‘blessed’. He thinks ‘dune’ probably referred to a hill, supporting his theory that the battle was fought at White Hill. Alternatively, ‘dune’ might have been Brythonic, meaning ‘stronghold’ or ‘fortress’. So, perhaps Weondune meant ‘white stronghold’ or ‘blessed stronghold’. The full entry in the ‘Merseyside Stone Building Atlas’ for ‘Pennine Coal Measures’ is that the local sandstones are: “recorded as being white and grey when fresh, weathering to yellow, buff and brown”. Perhaps, then, the stone was new and white in pre-Saxon times, then weathered to brown. Wigan had a nearby stronghold and nearby hills, so it could have been ‘white hill’ or ‘white stronghold’.

Most experts think that the ‘dune’ part of Weondune and Brunandune is a variation of Old English ‘dun’, meaning ‘hill’. If so, it could be referring to Scholes, Upholland or Brownlow, either side of Wigan. They are among only a handful of places on the Lancashire plain that could be called a hill. The latter two form a ridge with the highest elevation above the Lancashire plain.

We are unconvinced that ‘dune’ did mean hill in the case of Weondune and Brunandune. Places with a ‘dun’ prefix are almost always hills, but not those with a ‘dun’ suffix. Medieval Fearndun (Faringdon) is on a ridge, although not on a raised part of that ridge. All the others that appear in Bede or the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, and whose modern derivative name is known - Abbandun (Abingdon) Assundun (Ashingdon), Beandun (Bampton) Ethandun (Edington), Hreopandune (Repton), Huntandun (Huntingdon) and Hybberadune (Hebburn) - are in valleys, often where they are crossed by Roman roads. As we say above, ‘dun’ can derive from Brythonic ‘dunum’ meaning ‘stronghold’ or ‘fortress’. This is the case with Sinodun in Berkshire, the only place in England that has kept its ‘dun’ suffix. We suspect that most ‘dun’ suffix Old English placenames, including Weondune and Brunandune, derive from a nearby stronghold. If so, Brunandune is a cognate of Brunanburh, which matches Wigan through the Roman military station of Coccium.

The Irish Annals of Clonmacnoise say that the battle was on the ‘Plaines of Othlyn’. Breeze reckons it means ‘place of slaughter’ and should therefore be ignored. Nicholas Higham reckons, rightly we think, that Othlyn means ‘up to the Lyme’, referring to woodland known as ‘The Lymes’ that once blanketed the western Pennines in Shropshire, Staffordshire and Derbyshire. As John Ward explained back in 1843, its western boundary is marked by a string of towns on the 400’ contour, many of which have Lyme related names: Lyme Handley, Chesterton-under-Lyme, Bure-wardes-Lyme (now Burslem), Newcastle-under-Lyme, Madeley-under-Lyme, Whitmore-under-Lyme, Betton-under-Lyme and Old Lyme (now Audlem). The n/m switch between Lyme and Lyn is quite plausible in the days before standard spelling; after all, Ashton-under-Line is presumably another of these Lyme boundary towns. If Higham is right, the Plaines of Othlyn was the coastal plain bounded by the Forest of Lyme to the south and southeast, by the Pennines to the east and northeast, and by the River Lune to the north. Wigan is roughly in the middle of it.

Wigan and Reverend Whitaker’s clues

We believe that Wigan best fits the geographic and onomastic clues among all the battlefield candidates, but we accept that most of the clues are general, equivocal or ambiguous. The only exceptions – Old English ‘wigan’ meaning ‘battles’, Brownlow being derived from Brunhlaw, and Weon being transliterated from Old English ‘Wigan’ – are intangible. Rev. John Whitaker inadvertently provides some solid evidence in his 1785 book ‘The History of Manchester’.

It has to be said right away that Whitaker is a less than reliable source. He had many idiosyncratic convictions, not least that Britons converted to Christianity during the Roman occupation. He did himself no favours by associating most of Lancashire’s battles with King Arthur. Edward Baines said of him: “the public is indebted more to the vigorous imagination of the author than to historical evidence.” No less a man than Horace Walpole, then Prime Minister, waded in to say that History of Manchester was “more an account of Babel than Manchester”. We will concentrate on his reports of physical evidence. It is possible that some or all of it was fabricated, but we think not, for reasons we explain below.

Whitaker reports what could be the crucial evidence that Brunanburh referred to Wigan. He says that a mass grave of horses and men was found during 1741 canal works at Poolbridge in Wigan: “All along the course of the channel, from the termination of the dock to the point at Poolbridge, from forty to fifty roods in length, and seven or eight yards in breadth, they found the ground everywhere containing the remains of men and horses.”  He says ‘roods in length’ but we guess he meant ‘rods’, each being 5m. If so, this mass grave covered an area at least 200m by 7m, spacious enough for more than a thousand bodies.

A thousand bodies are an enormous amount for the time. Domesday’s section on modern Lancashire is damaged but, as a guide, it lists less than 1000 people on the entire Lancashire plain away from the coast. Assuming it was not an invention, Whitaker’s mass grave can only have been caused by a major battle. The Battle of Wigan Lane is known to have been fought near Wigan during the Civil War, but it was more of a skirmish than battle, with too few casualties to match Whitaker’s evidence. Brunanburh is the only battle big enough to have been responsible for more than 1000 fatalities.

According to Whitaker, there was more fighting 6km from Wigan town centre at Hasty Knoll near Blackrod: “Closely adjoining to the site is a considerable barrow; and tradition speaks of a remarkable battle near it, in which a great officer was slain, many of the soldiers were cut to pieces, and the Douglas ran crimsoned with the blood to Wigan.”  It is quite plausible that this is where Æthelstan’s horsemen caught up with one bunch of fleeing rebels.

Whitaker’s mass grave is not independently corroborated, and he has a reputation as an unreliable source. He might have fabricated it. But 1741 was just 34 years before his book was published. It would be incredibly inept for someone of his intellect, and risky for someone in his profession, to fabricate something that could so easily be disproved. Everyone in the town would have known about the canal construction. Many of the men would have been involved. In our opinion, if Whitaker wanted to fabricate physical evidence, he would have backdated it by 100 years.

Whitaker reports that a horseman’s spur was found in the mass grave, with a four or five-inch stem and a rowel as big as a half-crown coin. It has been pointed out to us that rowels were not used before the 12th century, implying that the casualties were too late for Brunanburh. But the spur could easily have been buried centuries after the bodies.

It has also been pointed out to us that the mass grave is north of the River Douglas whereas the initial engagement was at the English camp which would have been south of the river. It sounds inconsistent. But the Brunanburh poem is clear that the main battle was shield wall to shield wall. We guess that the initial engagement was an opportunist raid, hoping to catch Æthelstan asleep in his tent. Once Olaf realised it had failed, he would have fallen back over the river to defend the crossing, so most of the casualties would have been north of the river.

Wigan and William of Malmesbury's clues

William of Malmesbury and Pseudo-Ingulf provide some logistical and geographical clues about the engagement. As we explain above, there is reason to doubt Malmesbury’s provenance, and therefore Pseudo-Ingulf’s, but there is no harm correlating their engagement narratives against a Wigan battlefield.

To summarise, they say that the invaders attack Æthelstan’s camp during the night where they kill a Bishop who was camped on level turf; that Æthelstan and many of his men were more than a mile away; that Æthelstan hears the commotion and arrives at dawn to turn the battle; and that one reason for Æthelstan’s victory is that the invaders were exhausted.

  1. Is it likely that Olaf would have tried a nocturnal attack on Æthelstan’s camp at Wigan? We think so. The Brunanburh Poem says: The whole day long the West Saxons with mounted companies kept in pursuit of the hostile peoples.”  It sounds like Æthelstan had a lot of horses. The poem also says: “There the prince of the Norsemen was put to flight, driven perforce to the prow of his ship with a small company”. It sounds like Olaf and some barons arrived at a ship and crewed it themselves, which suggests to us that they were on horseback while their men were on foot. If so, Olaf had relatively few horses. One possibility then is that Olaf was trying to nullify Æthelstan’s superior cavalry. Another is that Olaf could not risk Æthelstan retreating any further south because the English army would leave a barren swathe with no food for Olaf’s men.
  2. Is it likely that Æthelstan was a mile away from the initial night attack? If Æthelstan was at Wigan, we think so. He would have posted a guard south of the ford. He and his barons would have been at a safe distance behind the guard, probably on the nearby hill at Scholes, 1km or so northeast of the ford.
  3. Is it likely that Olaf’s men were too exhausted to continue the fight? Olaf’s men would have marched five or six hours in the night to get to Wigan, then they would have had to fight their way across the ford on unfavourable ground. They may well have been exhausted when Æthelstan arrived at the battlefield soon after dawn.

Wigan and logistical clues

Finally, it is worth checking the logistics. Malmesbury says that: Athelstan purposely retreating, that he might derive greater honour from vanquishing his furious assailants”. If Olaf was at Walton-le-Dale (or Lancaster, for that matter), a tactical retreat would be no surprise. We guess Æthelstan’s original plan was an immediate attack on Olaf’s camp. But the Roman road approach to Walton-le-Dale (and Lancaster) ran along the base of an escarpment to the east. It looks like perfect ambush territory. We guess that Æthelstan got spooked, then decided to gather more intelligence before mounting an attack. He could not risk camping on open ground near the enemy camp, so he retreated.

Is it likely that Æthelstan would have camped at Wigan? If Olaf was camped at Walton-le-Dale, there were only two places that Æthelstan is likely to have camped: Chorley and Wigan. Each provided the natural protection of a river: the Yarrow at Chorley, the Douglas at Wigan. Chorley is closer, six miles from Walton-le-Dale whereas Wigan is 15 miles away. Chorley would have provided faster intelligence. Wigan would have given more time to respond to an enemy sortie. Wigan also had the advantage of terrain, its southern riverbank being overlooked by the only hills over 150m on the Lancashire plain, whereas south Chorley is on a flat plateau.

Wigan is also a better match for the Brunanburh poem’s description of the rebel flight: The whole day long the West Saxons with mounted companies kept in pursuit of the hostile peoples”. So, the fighting was over in the morning and Æthelstan’s horsemen harried the invaders all the way back to their ships, which took them into the late afternoon. It sounds like Olaf’s ships must have been a four-to-six-hour flight from the battlefield. Chorley, at six miles away, would have been too close. If the battle was fought at Wigan, the rebel ships were 15 miles to the north along Margary 70. Those fleeing would probably have split, some going direct, some heading east then north, some west then north, some heading for untrodden wastes where horses might fear to follow. The detours might have extended the flight to perhaps 20 miles. People were fit in those days, but they were not athletes, and they would have needed to hide from their chasers. Four-to-six hours sounds about right for a flight from Wigan.

The Brunanburh poem says that Olaf and Constantine disembark from ‘dinges mere’ on their way home. It is spelled ‘dynge mere’ and ‘dynige mere’ in other recensions. Dodgson and Cavill think it might derive from the River Dee. Thorpe and followers think ‘dynge’ is cognate of ‘dines’, Old English for ‘noisy’, referring to a ‘noisy sea’. Kirby analyses fluid dynamics to show this could refer to Morcambe Bay, just on the other side of the Fylde coast from Walton-le-Dale. ‘dynge mere’ is Old English for ‘dung water’ or ‘dung lake’. Campbell translates as “estuary of dark water”. We suspect it was the local name for Martin Mere which was a huge low-lying bog that drained into the Ribble estuary. Its water would have been dung coloured, and it may well have smelled putrid.

Summary

Wigan matches all the clues we can find about the Battle of Brunanburh battlefield, bar one, albeit that the clues are too equivocal to prove anything beyond reasonable doubt. In absolute terms, none of the candidates is compelling. But they do not have to be. The battle was fought somewhere. In cases like this, the most likely is the least unlikely. Wigan’s only dependencies are that John of Worcester was wrong about Olaf landing in the Humber basin in 937, and that Olaf camped at Walton-le Dale. The other candidates have many more dependencies. Wigan has the Cuerdale Hoard and Whitaker’s mass grave. It is true that no one else reported the mass grave and that Whitaker is a less than ideal source, but none of the other battlefield candidates has anything near as compelling. In our opinion, Wigan is by far the best battlefield candidate.

Brunanburh, a revised narrative

There is enough information above to calculate a plausible revised battle narrative.

Olaf crossed the Irish Sea to land in the Hiberno-Norse controlled Ribble estuary. He moored most of his fleet where Martin Mere meets the Ribble estuary. He made camp at Walton-le-Dale, now a suburb of Preston, south of the river. Owain’s troops marched down to Walton-le-Dale from Strathclyde and Cumbria on Margary 70, bringing horses, livestock and grain. Constantine’s army might have arrived by ship, or via Strathclyde and Cumbria by land, or by some combination.

Æthelstan marched his troops north from Mercia on Margary 70, crossing into Northumbria at Warrington. He planned an immediate attack on Olaf’s camp at Walton-le-Dale but got spooked as he drew near realising it was ambush prone. He retreated to Wigan to devise a plan of attack, dispatching his scouts and spies to gather intelligence. He camped on the hill where St Catharine’s church now stands in Scholes, roughly 1km east of the river crossing.

Olaf was worried about fighting in the open with a cavalry deficit, and feared that Æthelstan might retreat further to Wilderspool, dangerously close to his Mercian power base. Olaf tried a nocturnal surprise attack. There was an initial clash with Æthelstan’s river guard, which raised the alarm in the rest of his camp. Æthelstan’s troops arrived from their main camp to overwhelm the invaders. Olaf initially fell back across the river and made a stand on the north riverbank. A classic shield wall battle ensued. Æthelstan’s men came out on top.

Olaf, Constantine and the other barons fled on horseback to the nearest ships, which were in Martin Mere. He did not wait for a crew but left as soon as possible. The rest of his men were harried back to their ships, many dying enroute.

Bibliography

Contemporary manuscripts

Anglo-Saxon Chronicle; contemporary; Ingram, Thorpe, Garmonsway, Whitlock translations
Chronicon Æthelweardi; Æthelweard, c980; Campbell translation
Annales Cambriae; c990
Libellus de Exordio; Simeon of Durham; c1110; Stevenson translation
Chronicon ex Chronicis; John of Worcester, c1125; Stevenson translation
Historia Anglorum; Henry of Huntingdon, c1129; Forester translation
Gesta regum anglorum; William of Malmesbury, c1135; Giles translation
Historia Regum; allegedly by Simeon of Durham; mid to late-12th century; Stevenson translation
Crowland Chronicle; Pseudo-Ingulf; allegedly before 1109, but perhaps forged later; Stevenson translation
Chronica magistri Rogeri de Hoveden; Roger de Hoveden; c1201
Chronica de Mailros, e Codice Unico; c1270
Annals of Clonmacnoise; 17th century

Modern references

A Dictionary of British Place Names; OUP; 2011
Edward Baines; History of the palatine and duchy of Lancaster; 1836; Fisher & Sons
Walter Barrett; The History of Burnley Volume 1, to 1400; 1951
Andrew Breeze; British Battles 493-937: Mount Badon to Brunanburh; 2020; Anthem Press
Damien Beeson Bullen; The Burnley Brunanburh; Academia
Alfred Burne; The Battlefields of England; 1950; Methuen
Alistair Campbell; The Battle of Brunanburh; 1938; London
Tim Clarkson; Strathclyde and the Anglo-Saxons in the Viking Age; 2021; John Donald
Clare Downham; Vikings in England to A.D. 1016 in The Viking World; 2003; London
Sarah Foot; Aethelstan: The First King of England; 2004; Yale University Press
David P Gregg; The Battlefield Of Brunanburh: The Case For Wirral; 2021; Gren Man Books
David Griffiths; Vikings of the Irish Sea : conflict and assimilation AD 790-1050; 2010; Stroud
Kevin Halloran; The Brunanburh Campaign: A Reappraisal; 2005; The Scottish Historical Review, Vol 84
Kevin Halloran; Anlaf Guthfrithson at York: a Non-Existent Kingship?; 2013; Northern History
Henry Harrison; The Place-Names of the Liverpool District; 1898; Eliot Stock
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Michael Livingstone; The Battle of Brunanburh: A Casebook;  2011; Liverpool University Press
Michael Livingstone; Never Greater Slaughter: Brunanburh and the Birth of England; 2021; Osprey Publishing
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Help Wanted

We believe that the Battle of Brunanburh was fought in and around Wigan. Our evidence is circumstantial and speculative. It has to be said that the same applies to all the other candidates, but we think there is physical proof nearby. If you know anything about a tumulus near Wigan, or about bones or medieval military finds in or around Wigan, please contact us by email. Likewise, if you have any evidence the supports or rebuts any of our theories.

Our email address is momentousbritain@outlook.com.