A great deal of modern scholarship pertaining to the reign of Alfred the Great (871-899) rests upon the Life of King Alfred, a biography purported to have been written by Asser, a Welshman from St. David's, in or shortly after AD 893.1 Not only does this text serve to corroborate the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, the other major literary source for Alfred's reign, but it also offers to shed light on aspects of this man's life and achievements that are absent from the account provided in the Chronicle. Yet the authenticity of the Lifehas not been immune to suspicion and scepticism. The most recent challenger to Asser's authorship is Alfred P. Smyth, who in his King Alfred the Great (1995), argues that the text in question was forged by one Byrhtferth of Ramsey in the early eleventh century. And while the majority of scholars have rejected Smyth's thesis, there is not, as of yet, any sense of consensus among them. This, I believe, is largely because the merits of Smyth's work have not been adequately disentangled from its shortcomings. Therefore, by highlighting and building upon his strongest arguments, what I first intend to demonstrate is that Smyth is correct in his view that the Life is, in fact, a forgery; and having done this, I shall in turn argue that his critics are correct in contending that this text is not the product of an eleventh-century forger, before ending with the suggestion that it was probably written by an obscure Welshman in the early tenth century. Before diving into the heart of the matter though, it would be worthwhile to briefly address the earlier stages of this debate.2 
 
 

Suspicions regarding the authenticity of the Life were first raised in a paper delivered by Thomas Wright in 1842. Wright had difficulties with the Life's abrupt ending, its inclusion of certain "legendary" elements and its author's heavy reliance on the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. He also recognized a problem in the author's reference to the parochia or diocese of Exeter, an administrative unit that did not, according to the historian William of Malmesbury (fl. early 12th century), come into being until 1050. Wright concluded that the Life of King Alfred was not composed by Asser (d. 909), but by a late tenth or eleventh-century forger at St. Neots. This view was in turn silenced by Charles Plummer and W. H. Stevenson shortly after the turn of the century. To summarize, a number of Wright's arguments had been based on faulty reasoning, and in his textual criticism of the Life, he had made a number of errors that had become blatantly obvious by the early 1900s. Moreover, his case was demolished by his own absolutely untenable position with regard to the authenticity of the On the State of Britain. Having been shown up on one occasion, Wright's arguments against Asser's authorship of the Life were, to some extent, swept aside.3 
 
 

The issue was resurrected by V. H. Galbraith, first in 1949, and then once again with greater force in 1964. While his case against the authenticity of the Life had more depth than what they would like to believe, Keynes and Lapidge are correct in asserting that Galbraith had focused on, what were for him, two serious anachronisms. There was, in the first place, Wright's Exeter problem, which both Stevenson and Plummer had failed to explain in any sort of convincing manner. Secondly, Galbraith pointed out that the reference to Alfred as "king of the Angles and Saxons" was entirely out of place when, according to other sources, Alfred was only recognized as the king of Wessex and Mercia.4
 
 

In 1967, the formerly uncontested supremacy of the orthodox view was again restored by Dorothy Whitelock, who in her "The Genuine Asser," succeeded in knocking down all of Galbraith's main arguments. Keeping with the above examples, she points out that the parochia of Exeter is not an anachronism because it is not even certain that parochia necessarily refers to a diocese. Celtic-Latin authors, she says, often associated the term with the jurisdiction of churches or monasteries.5 Moreover, Whitelock contends that the establishment of and subsequent abolition of temporary dioceses was not uncommon in Anglo-Saxon England, and that it is therefore quite possible for a diocese of Exeter to have been constituted under Alfred, merged to another larger diocese at some later time and then reconstituted in 1050.6 As for the assertion that the reference to Alfred as "Anglorum Saxonum Regi"7 is indicative of post-Alfredian authorship, the same author responds by demonstrating that this need not be the case. She argues that a coin dated to Alfred's reign bearing the title REX ANGLO, "however we expand it," suggests that a title such as that which is mentioned by Asser may have been in use, and that correlatively, Alfred did not always assume the title of king of the West Saxons. Further, she adds that there is no reason to assume that Asser would have felt compelled to use an official formula.8 Although Galbraith refused to recant, arguments such as these convinced most scholars that the Life of King Alfred was written by none other than the king's own tutor and friend, Asser, bishop of Sherborne. Indeed, this was so much the case that in the introductory chapter to their 1983 English translation of Asser's Life, Keynes and Lapidge are confident enough to suggest that "suspicion still lingers in some quarters" only on acccount of Galbraith's "richly deserved prestige as a medieval historian," and then conclude that any "lingering doubts should be laid peacefully to rest."9 
 
 

In spite of this, Alfred P. Smyth has taken it upon himself to reopen the debate and to overthrow, once and for all, the notion that Asser was the author of the Life of King Alfred. Even though much of Smyth's six hundred and two page Alfred the Great does not have any direct bearing on the Asser issue, it is still very clear that, in writing his biography of Alfred, Smyth was primarily concerned with the reversal of the status quo. Reviews have provided a mixture of opinions. While he admits that not "all of Smyth's ideas will command complete or easy acceptance," Michael Altschul describes Smyth's work as a, "major contribution not only to Anglo-Saxon studies but also to a wider historical landscape."10 James Campbell, while unsure about Smyth's revisionist thesis, is at least appreciative of his scholarship: "[e]ven supposing Smyth to be completely wrong about the authenticity of Asser, as he may be, his work contains such a wealth of learning on Alfredian and ninth-century subjects that no scholar of the period could do without it."11 Still, it appears as though most scholars, including Michael Lapidge, Barbara Yorke, Bernard Bachrach, David Hill and Richard Abels, are inclined to reject Smyth's take on the Life of King Alfred.12 D. R. Howlett is particularly vehement in his review of Smyth's biography. His verdict is as follows: 

There is little in this work that is both new and true. The errors of perception, interpretation, historical method, argument are not merely bad but grotesque, so deep seated and pervasive that any attempt to correct them would entail rewriting the entire book. It is irremediable. As a work of ephemeral journalism this would be objectionable. As a work of pretended scholarship it is wholly unacceptable. The present reviewer can imagine only two uses for it. One is for graduate students, as an index of mental states and catalogue of writer's habits to avoid. The other is for evaluators, who should be forced to read this book and favorable reviews of it before beginning research assessment exercises.13

So then, what sort of issues does Smyth raise in order to support his controversial revisionist position? The attacks which he brings to bear on the authenticity of the Life are very numerous, to say the least, and it must be admitted that a paper such as this cannot provide a comprehensive assessment of his work. Nonetheless, it is fully possible to address the arguments which, in my view, warrant the most attention, for they are all directed at a single target: the author's alleged access to and relationship with king Alfred. This writer, whom I shall distinguish from the historical Asser (see below, pp.15-17) by the name Pseudo-Asser, tells his audience a great deal about his associations with the king. He describes in detail how, among other things, he was summoned to Alfred's court (chs.79-80), how he often read aloud to him there (ch. 81), how he received "countless daily gifts of worldly riches" from him (ch.81) and how he was personally involved in the king's own education (chs. 88-89).16 With this in mind, it is odd that very extensive sections of the Life(chs.1, 3-11, 18-21, 26, 30-72 and 82-85), a full 66 out of its 106 chapters, had to be pulled almost straight out of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle.17 The real problem though, is that the remainder of this work, that is to say the portion which is regarded as being original, is absolutely loaded with exaggerations, folk-tale motifs, digressions, hagiographic embellishments and outright falsifications. 
 
 

Keynes, in his review article, "On the Authenticity of Asser's Life of King Alfred," makes the reasonable suggestion that the presence of a few exaggerations and inconsistencies does not necessarily make a case for a forgery.18 Indeed, insofar as medieval historiography is concerned, these things are reasonably common and generally do little to challenge the authenticity of a given work. Much of what is written in the History of the Kings of Britain, for instance, cannot be taken seriously by modern historians, and yet the academic establishment is perfectly willing to accept that the author was none other than Geoffrey of Monmouth, the very man put forward by the Historia itself. Keeping with this example, the difficulty is that Geoffrey (d. c. 1155) was primarily concerned with the affairs of fifth to seventh century Britain, and accordingly he makes no claim to have ever known the individuals about whom he is writing. The fact that he has to fabricate a great deal in order to put together a presentable and interesting history concerning people and events which are several centuries removed from his own time is not in the least bit surprising. But the same cannot be said for a biographer who is supposed to have been close to the individual whose life constitutes the subject of his work, especially when that very individual was still alive when the biography was supposedly composed! It is not that the historical worth of the Life and Geoffrey's History are in any way comparable, for the former is still much more reliable, but it must be recognized that the Life of King Alfred cannot simply be heaped together with the greater corpus of medieval histories and then conveniently swept away in the name of context.19 Every historical source must, to some degree, be examined on its own terms, and this is precisely why Pseudo-Asser's heavy reliance on the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle cannot be ignored. 
 
 

It must of course be recognized that a full demonstration of the extent to which the author of the Life borrows from the Chronicle would be a rather redundant, not to mention tedious, undertaking. Accordingly, a comparison between the following two excerpts pertaining to the events of 870 ought to suffice. In the first place, there is the account provided in the Chronicle: 

870 In this year the raiding army rode across Mercia into East Anglia, and took up winter quarters at Thetford. And that winter King Edmund fought against them, and the Danes had the victory, and killed the king and conquered all the land. And the same year Archbishop Ceolnoth died.20 

32. In the year of the Lord's Incarnation 870 (the twenty-second of King Alfred's life), the Viking army mentioned above passed through Mercia to East Anglia, and spent the winter there at a place called Thetford. 33. In the same year, Edmund, king of the East Angles, fought fiercely against that army. But alas, he was killed there with a large number of his men, and the Vikings rejoiced triumphantly; the enemy were masters of the battlefield, and they subjected that entire province to their authority. 34. In the same year Ceolnoth, archbishop of Canterbury, went the way of all flesh; he was buried in peace in the same city.21 

Pseudo-Asser's account of Queen Eadburh and her misfortunes (chs. 14-15) is particularly troublesome. Smyth points out that, given the relatively minute amount of non-Chronicle derived narrative in the Life, this story is exceedingly digressive. More notably, he focuses on Pseudo-Asser's assertion that he had heard the story from Alfred himself, who had access to "many reliable sources," and from "many who saw her [Eadburh]" in Pavia.22 Indeed, for a ninth-century chronicler, the author of the Life goes to rather great lengths in order to support his story, and ironically, it is these claims to authority that are his undoing here. Time is the key issue. According to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Eadburh was married to Beorhtric, King of the West Saxons, in 789.23 It is reasonable to believe, as does Stevenson, that this woman was about fifteen years old at this time (to accept that she was older only serves to further damage Pseudo-Asser's credibility). Now, what Alfred's biographer states is that Eadburh fled to the court of Charlemagne immediately after her husband's death which, with reference to the Chronicle, can be dated to 802.24 He also claims that she was made an abbess "only for a few years," and while we cannot know exactly when she was exiled from Charlemagne's realm, it must have been before his death in 814. The point is this: Eadburh had fled from Wessex 83 years before Asser first came into Alfred's service, and even if she had been alive at the time, this woman would have been 80 years old when Alfred supposedly went to Rome in 854.25 It is extremely improbable that the author could have known "many" people, let alone anyone, that could have seen her alive in Pavia. 
 
 

The best response to this is simply, why not? Keynes and Lapidge point out that Pavia was on the pilgrim's road to Rome and that there would have thus been "many opportunities for stories of Eadburh's last days to get back to England." They also note that Alfred's own sister Aethelswith, who died in 888, was buried in Pavia.26 Yet as far as I am concerned, this is not quite good enough. There are simply too many unanswered questions. First, how many people could have made the pilgrimage from England to Rome during the peak of the Viking onslaught (c.835-885)? How many of those who went actually made the overland journey through Pavia when many pilgrims apparently preferred to get to Rome by sailing around the Iberian peninsula?27 Even among the few who came through Francia and northern Italy, how many would have stayed in Pavia for any considerable length of time? And of them, how many would have sought out a long-since banished (and disgraced) queen or recognized a beggar whom they could not have possibly seen before? Finally, would it have been possible for "many" to have seen her, let us say between 830 and 850, and then live to tell Asser about it at some time after 885? While the author's claims would be more believable if he simply maintained that he had heard about the story at an earlier stage in his own life, this is not the case. His own testimony suggests that he first learned the story from Alfred himself (c. 885) and that he then heard it from the "many" at some time after that (at least 71 years after Eadburh had left Charlemagne's kingdom!)28 
 
 

Even the historicity of Eadburh's ultimate demise in Pavia can be brought into question because, as Smyth points out, in addition to the above problems, this story possesses a suspicious number of "stock" qualities or motifs. As far as he is concerned, it belongs to a specific category of folklore: "famous monarch reduced to penury and deserted by kin."29 What is noteworthy here is that this category actually includes a fictitious story about Alfred that is included in the late tenth-century Life of St. Neot and in the early-mid twelfth-century Annals of St. Neots. In this tale, Alfred, having been reduced to such lowly means after the Viking attack of 871, was forced to forage alone in the marshes surrounding Athelney. Eventually, he was able to take refuge at the cottage of a swineherd, all the while keeping his identity a secret. One day, while the herdsman was tending to his flock, the king was left with the man's wife, who was herself busy making bread and tending to other domestic chores. When, on account of Alfred's idleness and hesitation, the bread began to burn, this wife of a swineherd scolded him. So, according to this piece of legend, even the greatest of men could be degraded to the point of being denigrated by the lowliest of women.30 Returning to the point though, like this tale of Alfred and the burning cakes, Pseudo-Asser's story of Eadburh is little more than a standard riches to rags legend.
 
 

Smyth brings a similar argument to bear in his attack on the story about Alfred and his mother's book of poetry. In this case the motif is "Youngest brother alone succeeds on quest." Citing a few examples, he points to the Book of Genesis, Herodotus' account of the origins of the Scythians and the eighth-century Irish Testament of Cathair Mar.31 Moreover, Smyth maintains that, "even if we were to overlook the obvious folk tale-element in the story of Alfred and his brothers . . . there are compelling historical arguments for rejecting the tale in its details."32 According to the author of the Life, Alfred was born in 849 and was sent on a pilgrimage to Rome in 853-854. This same writer also tells us that, in 855, Alfred returned to Rome with his father Aethelwulf and that his father took a Frankish bride on their return to England in October of 856. Osburh, Alfred's mother, must have passed away during or shortly before Alfred's second pilgrimage and the event in question must have therefore taken place at some time no later than 855. Even if we accept that this competition should be squeezed in between Alfred's journeys abroad, this means that Alfred was no more than seven years old at the time.33 Although I would not suggest that it is impossible for a six or seven year old to memorize an entire book, the story is not all that easy to swallow. 
 
 

More importantly though, Smyth asserts that there has been a "constant and willful mistranslation by those who cling to the authenticity of Asser- the infant Alfred is shown to be 'reading (et legit)' and 'reading aloud (recitavit)'."34 This is of course totally at odds with what is found in Chapter 22 of the Life: "but alas, by the shameful negligence of his parents and tutors he remained ignorant of letters until his twelfth year, or even longer."35 By inserting the contest story, the author not only contradicts himself with regard to Alfred's own learning but he also sets himself up against his earlier statements about Alfred's parents and teachers. 
 
 

The story really collapses when we consider the age of Alfred's brothers who were supposed to have been involved in this competition. There is, in the first place, Alfred's eldest brother Aethelstan, who was given the kingdoms of Kent, Essex and Surrey around 839 (some ten years before Alfred was born!) and who was almost surely dead by 855. Then there is Aethelbald (r.858-860), who is recorded as having been present with his father King Aethelwulf (838-858) at the battle of Aclea in 851. Next, there is Aethelberht (r.860-865), whom we know to have been witnessing charters as a king by the early 850s.36 Unless we pull the date of the contest back even further to, let us say, early 851 (when Alfred was only 2), we have to accept that both of these individuals would have been grown men, involved in the affairs of state, when this contest supposedly took place. It is simply inconceivable that either one of them would still be learning at their mother's schoolroom in 855. The only eligible competitors would have been Alfred and Aethelred (r.865-871), Aethelwulf's second youngest son. Still, if the contest was held only between these two, why does the author of the Life describe Osburh as showing the book to Alfred and his "fratres"?37 It cannot even be argued that "brothers" ought to mean the "young boys" of the royal court when it is clear that this statement is being made in the context of a comparison between Alfred and his blood brothers that is developed throughout chapters 22-23. 
 
 

What is more is that the poetry-book tale is not even unique among Pseudo-Asser's stories about Alfred's education. The learning miracle of 887 is particularly conspicuous. According to Pseudo-Asser, it was in this year that "Alfred, king of the Anglo-Saxons, first began through divine inspiration to read [Latin] and to translate at the same time, all on one and the same day."38 Learning the Latin language in a single day, regardless of previous exposure, is quite the miracle indeed! Yes, some allowance has to be given to a biographer with hagiographic intentions, but even if this exaggeration is set aside, there are still problems with Pseudo-Asser's account pertaining to Alfred's acquisition of the written vernacular. As mentioned above, this author makes the rather questionable assertion that Alfred learned to read Anglo-Saxon around the age of twelve. This statement becomes all the more suspicious in light of what the same author has to say in chapter 77, for here, at about the age of 36, Alfred is described as having "not yet begun to read anything."39 The "anything" here presents a rather obvious contradiction. Furthermore, it is insufficient to argue that this inconsistency can simply be attributed to a lapse in Asser's memory. Really, would Alfred's own tutor forget that the king had learned to read the vernacular in his childhood and, in doing so, also forget that this man was literate throughout most of his life? The answer must certainly be "no!" It is much more reasonable to believe that the author of the Life did not know Alfred, and that as a consequence, he had to fill his narrative with a considerable degree of fiction by way of which he would be apt to make such an error. 
 
 

What about the negative evidence? What can be said about Pseudo-Asser's silence on certain matters? While the following issue does not stand alone here, it is worthy to note, as does Smyth, that the author of the Life never once mentions Alfred's wife by name. At first glance such an omission might appear to be trivial, but a closer inspection suggests that it is rather significant. There are four references to this woman in the Life of King Alfred, and in order to properly illustrate Smyth's point here, it is essential to provide all of them. They are: "[I]n the year of the Lord's Incarnation 868, the same much-esteemed King Alfred . . . was betrothed to and married a wife from Mercia . . ."; "Alfred, king of the Anglo-Saxons, after the time when he married his excellent wife from the stock of the noble Mercians"; "when in the first flowering of his [Alfred's] youth he had married his wife . . .", and, "[a]s I was saying, sons and daughters were born to him by his wife . . ." Clearly, the word "wife" is not being used for the sake of variety.40 
 
 

The gravity of this becomes all the more evident if one takes into consideration the treatment of Alfred's other relatives in the Life. To begin with, the first two chapters of this work are dedicated almost entirely to the genealogies of Alfred's parents.41 Further, when relating Alfred's marriage, the author has no difficulty in naming both the mother and father of the bride.42 Still worse, he claims to have known the mother quite well, stating that, "I often saw her myself with my very own eyes for several years before her death. She was a notable woman, who remained for many years after the death of her husband a chaste widow, until her death."43 Finally, regarding the children born to Alfred by this wife, he says: 

namely Aethelflaed the first-born, and after her Edward, then Aethelgifu followed by Aelfthryth, and finally Aethelweard . . . Aethelfaed, when the time came for her to marry, was joined in marriage to Aethelred, ealdormen of the Mercians; Aethelgifu, devoted to God through her holy virginity, subject and consecrated to the rules of monastic life, entered the service of God; Aethelweard, the youngest of all, as a result of divine wisdom and the remarkable foresight of the king, was given over to training in reading and writing under the attentive care of teachers, in company with all the nobly born children of virtually the entire area, and a good many of lesser birth as well.44

To be fair, it could be argued that Asser was simply embellishing upon his rapport with the king in order to glorify himself for posterity. This argument must, however, be rejected. This is because, in the first place, it is at odds with the historical Asser. Not only is the historicity of this individual beyond dispute, but more importantly, it would be difficult to argue that Asser was not, in fact, close to King Alfred. In his Deeds of the Kings of the English, William of Malmesbury (c. 1095-1143) mentions that bishop Asser helped Alfred translate Boethius' Consolation of Philosophy.47 Better yet, in the preface to his translation of the Pastoral Care, Alfred himself attests to the importance of this man: ". . . I then began, amidst the various and multifarious afflictions of this kingdom, to translate into English the book which in Latin is called Pastoralis, in English 'Shepherd-book,' sometimes word for word, sometimes sense for sense, as I learnt it from Plegmund my archbishop, and from Asser my bishop, and from Grimbald my mass-priest and from John my mass-priest."48 Not only was Asser involved in Alfred's education, but both the testimony of William of Malmesbury and King Alfred himself make it clear that this man belonged to an elite group of scholars who played an active role in the king's translation program. On top of all this there is the fact, attested in both Episcopal lists and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, that at some later point in his life, Asser was consecrated bishop of Sherborne.49 This was a very important office as the See of Sherborne included all of Dorset, Sommerset and West-Saxon controlled Cornwall.50 Moreover, in Alfred's own will, "the bishop of Sherborne" is one of only four prelates that is singled out as a recipient to a portion of the king's estate.51 Although in theory, a man could only be ordained as a bishop by the authority of another bishop, what is important here is that, in practice, such an advance required a considerable degree of royal patronage.52 The matter is admittedly not particularly straightforward, for it must be said that Asser may not have acquired the bishopric of Sherborne until sometime in 900, perhaps a year or so after Alfred's death.53 This does not, however, do a great deal to diminish the point at stake. Even if we are to suppose that the See of Sherborne was not bestowed upon him until after Alfred's death, it would be difficult to believe that Asser somehow managed to earn this royal favor during the course of a single year, especially when his presence at Alfred's court is already an undisputed fact. It therefore only makes sense to accept that the historical Asser had acquired a certain degree of prominence at the West-Saxon court during the years leading up to his consecration, and that he most probably came to know King Alfred quite well in the process. 
 
 

In addition to this, it is worthy to note that the Life of King Alfred begins with the following dedication: 

To my esteemed and most Holy Lord, Alfred, ruler of all the Christians of the island of Britain, King of the Angles and Saxons, Asser, lowest of all the servants of God, wishes thousandfold prosperity in his life and in the next, according to the desires of his prayers.54

What is more suspicious, is that Pseudo-Asser makes a number of errors which, if we can accept this preface to be genuine, are more indicative of total ignorance than simple carelessness. He, for instance, is unable to provide the correct date for Alfred's birth. In Chapter 1, he tells his audience that, "[i]n the year of the Lord's Incarnation 849 Alfred, king of the Anglo-Saxons, was born at the royal Estate called Wantage . . ."56 It is stated however, in the genealogical preface to Manuscript A of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, that Alfred was twenty-three years of age in 871.57 This places his birth, not in 849 as Pseudo-Asser suggests, but in mid-late 847 or early-mid 848.58 What is more troublesome is that Alfred's biographer, being overzealous to follow the account provided in the Chronicle (because he knew so little), also states that Alfred was twenty-three in 871.59 While it is quite possible that Asser simply could not remember when the king was born, an error such as this seems rather out of place in a work that was apparently destined to be read by Alfred himself. Furthermore, if in doubt, why would the author not have simply taken the matter to either the king or to any one of the courtiers to whom he supposedly had easy access? 
 
 

At any rate, a similar, if not worse problem can be found in Pseudo-Asser's account of Ealhstan, bishop of Sherborne (d. 867). In chapter 12, he relates how this man helped bring into fruition a "disgraceful episode": the rebellion against King Aethelwulf, Alfred's father.60 This, in itself, is fine, but then in chapter 28, the same author describes this bishop Ealhstan as having administered his bishopric "honourably for fifty years."61 Keynes and Lapidge attribute this contradiction to Asser's willingness to defend a fellow bishop of Sherborne.62 Defend from what though? The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, a work that is generally believed to have enjoyed Alfred's patronage,63 says nothing about Pseudo-Asser's alleged rebellion nor does it ever cast Ealhstan in a negative light. Moreover, as Keynes and Lapidge admit, it is simply impossible to prove that Asser had, in fact, become the bishop of Sherborne when the Life was composed, regardless of its author's identity.64 The most plausible explanation here is that the author was so far removed, both temporally and sentimentally, from the people and events being discussed in the Life that he could not help but fail to notice this sort of contradiction. In the end, one cannot but agree with Galbraith when he says that, "it requires the faith that moves mountains to accept the Life as the work of an educated ecclesiastic who had lived in Alfred's household and who had "looked upon his face."65 
 
 

Conversely, Smyth's assertion that the Life of King Alfred was written by Byrhtferth of Ramsey (b.c. 960), is an altogether different matter. While I have already noted that it was suited for a Welsh audience, it must also be recognized that this biography of King Alfred was composed by someone who was not only familiar with the Welsh language, but who had access to certain Welsh sources. The author's knowledge of the language, and incidentally, the fact that he had a Welsh audience in mind, is quite easy to see as he often goes out of his way to clarify a given point by giving the Welsh translation for an English place-name. Examples are numerous, including; "Durnguier in Welsh and Dorset in English" (ch.49), Selwood Forest . . . Coit Maur in Welsh" (ch.55), and "Cirencester (called Cairceri in Welsh)" (ch.57).66 Added to this, there is a reference to the Welsh King Hyfaidd in chapter 79, and more importantly, a wealth of information regarding Welsh politics and Anglo-Welsh relations in Chapter 80.67 
 
 

One of the greatest blows to Smyth's thesis is offered by Simon Keynes, who points out that Byrhtferth, who was certainly no Welshman, cannot be identified as the forger because neither his knowledge of Welsh nor his access to the required Welsh sources can be firmly established. Indeed, Smyth is forced to stretch his arguments rather excessively in order to give his forger what Keynes describes as, "an impressive array of sources, not otherwise attested at Ramsey."68 Smyth builds up an elaborate scheme of a forger injecting eleventh-century attitudes towards Anglo-Welsh relations into the Life of King Alfred based upon the speculative guess that such an individual could have had access to a list of Welsh kings, a Latin-Welsh glossary and even a Welsh speaking assistant.69 Even though, as Smyth says, there is ample evidence suggesting that Latin texts from Wales were circulating in England around AD 1000,70 to go ahead and propose that Byrhtferth himself probably had the necessary sources is to make a rather large leap. Aside from this issue, it is clear that the Lifewas written, not by an Englishman with knowledge of Wales, but by someone with a distinctively Welsh perspective. On three occasions, the author of the Life uses the more typically Welsh term "Britain" when the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle either refers to "England" or is unspecific.71 It is highly unlikely that an eleventh-century English monk such as Byrhtferth would have been able to lace this subtle Welsh flavor into his text in such an effective manner. 
 
 

Really though, in order for Smyth to prove that the Life of King Alfred was composed in the eleventh century, he must be capable of demonstrating that its historical and linguistic content are more appropriate to the age of Byrhtferth than to the age of Asser. In this respect, he is not all that successful. One point of particular interest for Smyth is what he describes as Pseudo-Asser's dependence on Odo of Cluny's Life of Gerald of Aurillac (written c.940). Obviously, if it can be shown that the Life of King Alfred borrows from a later work such as this one, the case for its authenticity must be abandoned. But can this really be done? Smyth seems to think so, and to his credit, there can be little doubt that he is able to identify some rather suspicious parallels here: 

[Gerald's parents]- like those of Alfred- neglected his education- to the extent that in Gerald's case he was only allowed to study the Psalter. Like Alfred, too, Gerald's adolescence was spent in aristocratic pursuits with his hunting dogs, archery, and falcons . . . and just as Alfred was tormented by piles, so too, Gerald was covered by pustules (pustulis) or boils which rendered him unsuited to worldly affairs and enabled him to return to study . . . and, like Alfred he performed the Divine Office and prayed in chapel alone at night . . . [l]ike Alfred, too, Gerald struggled to preserve his chastity and after partial succumbing to temptation he was stricken with blindness . . . Alfred was also, exactly like Gerald, beset by tensions which were in conflict with the king's natural desire for study and contemplation . . .72 

What is generally accepted with regard to the matter of Pseudo-Asser's borrowings is that this author drew heavily from Einhard's Life of Charlemagne (written c. 829-836).76 Alfred's biographer even employs certain turns of phrase from Einhard in chapters 16, 73 and 81.77 Compare, for instance, Pseudo Asser's, ". . . de vita et moribus et aequa conversatione, atque, ex parte non modica, res gestas domimi mei Aelfredi, Angulsaxonum regis, postquam praefatam . . .,"78 with Einhard's, ". . . vitam et conversationem et ex parte non modica res gestas domini et nutritoris mei Karoli, excellentissimi et merito famosissimi regis, postquam scribere animus tulit . . ."79 Not only are these similarities indicative of an Einhardian influence, but more importantly, at least for the present purpose, the presence of such borrowings in Alfred's biography can be understood as being characteristic expressions of a literary influence. With this in mind then, if Pseudo-Asser actually modelled his work on the Life of Gerald of Aurillac, it would be reasonable to assume that his work ought to contain phrases lifted from this tenth-century biography. The obstacle facing Smyth is that there are no such graftings from the Life of Gerald.80 Nor is it evident that the Lifeadopts anything from any other later work, and it is especially worthwhile to note here that this biography does not contain any miracle stories about Alfred and St. Cuthbert or Alfred and St. Neot that would have been commonplace in the later tenth and early eleventh-centuries. In spite of the similarities between their works, there is simply no reason to believe that Pseudo-Asser had ever read Odo's Life of Gerald of Aurillac nor, on a broader scale, is there any shred of evidence suggesting that his narrative had ever been influenced by any other post-Alfredian piece of literature. 
 
 

Smyth is likewise hard-pressed to demonstrate that Alfred's biography contains any other serious historical anachronisms. Even his best arguments, while they do well to raise doubts about the accuracy of Pseudo-Asser's account, are not entirely convincing. Smyth is, for example, eager to pounce on Pseudo-Asser's account of 866, in which it is stated that, "a great Viking fleet arrived in Britain from the Danube."81 According to him, this geographical misunderstanding is not only a "most outrageous gloss on the Chronicle's record," but an anachronism as well. Pointing to Dudo of St. Quentin, whose history of the Dukes of Normandy (written c. 1015-1026) traces the origins of the Normans to Dacia, Smyth claims that Pseudo-Asser's Danes from the Danube are more congruent with early eleventh-century "book learning" than a ninth-century Anglo-Saxon perspective.82 This might be true, but in mentioning "Danubia," was the author of the Life really making reference to a river in Eastern Europe? Moreover, can the Anglo-Saxon understanding of the Danes be imposed on an author whose thoughts were obviously the product of a Welsh perspective? 
 
 

As early as 1902, Charles Plummer took note of this matter, and as far as I can tell, his explanation is still perfectly acceptable. Plummer points out that Pseudo-Asser appears to make a similar error regarding the events of 885 when he says that, "a great Viking army arrived from Germany [Germania] in[to] the territory of the Old Saxons."83 This mistake is all the more striking when the same author never refers to any part of the Carolingian empire (which included much of Germany) as Germania. Thus, odd as it may seem, it would appear as though Alfred's biographer was in the habit of confusing the word Germania with the place we know to be Norway. Given Pseudo-Asser's Welsh background, this seems all the more probable in light of what is found in the Chronicle of the Welsh Princes. The entry for the year 1036 describes Cnut (1017-1035), originally a Norwegian monarch, as the king of England, Denmark and Germany. Likewise, the annal for 1056 refers to the Norwegian King Harold Hardrada as the King of Germany.84 The point of course, is that Pseudo-Asser's confusion regarding the appellation of Norway is really no different from his claim that the Danish raiders of 866 had come from the Danube. The above Welsh evidence, because of its eleventh-century origin, does of course fit into Smyth's scheme of things quite well, but this does little to undermine the fact that it also supports Plummer's view. While it is in itself worthy of debate, this issue is simply indecisive with respect to the larger controversy regarding the authenticity of the Life of King Alfred. 
 
 

The same conclusion can be made regarding Smyth's attack on a particular passage in chapter 74 of Alfred's biography. At one point, Pseudo-Asser states that, "[n]ow on a previous occasion, by divine will, he had gone to Cornwall to do some hunting and, in order to pray, had made a detour . . ."85 While the whole story of Alfred's prayer is denounced as a piece of hagiographic fiction, Smyth dwells on one point in particular: the alleged location of this event. After relating the fact that Alfred's grandfather, King Egbert (802-839), had been the archenemy of the Cornish nation, Smyth points out that, even after Egbert's crushing defeat of the Cornishmen in 838, there is nothing to suggest that the West Saxons had ever made any serious inroads into Cornwall before the tenth century. He also points out that the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle says nothing about Cornish affairs from the victory of 838 to the accession of King Alfred,86 and that more importantly, the Welsh Annales records there having been a king of Cornwall up until 875. On the basis of all this then, Smyth arrives at the conclusion that the story at hand was probably the error of a later forger who placed the young Alfred into lands which, unbeknownst to him, had not been placed firmly under West-Saxon control until the reign of Athelstan (924-939). While he is perfectly aware that the West-Saxon crown was in possession of certain estates in eastern Cornwall throughout the mid-ninth century, Smyth simply finds it difficult to believe that a West-Saxon prince would have ever gone hunting (alone?) in a region which would have been potentially very hostile to any member of his dynasty.87 
 
 

It certainly cannot be denied that West-Saxon penetration into Cornwall was most probably quite limited during the reigns of Aethelwulf, Aethelberht, Aethelbald and Aethelred. On the other hand, there is no reason to believe that such an advance was prerequisite to a royal hunting expedition in West-Saxon controlled areas of Cornwall, however insignificant such territories may have been. This is because Smyth's argument rests upon the erroneous assumption that the Cornish nobility remained bitterly hostile to their West-Saxon neighbours throughout the reign of Aethelwulf and beyond because the dynasty of Egbert faced them with "nothing less than extinction."88 While it would be reasonable to presuppose that this would have been the case in the years immediately following 838, this is pure speculation. Moreover, given the aforementioned silence in the Chronicle, it would appear as though Anglo-Cornish relations were not really all that bad during the period of Alfred's youth. Once again, what is presented by Smyth as a decisive anachronism only makes for an inconclusive debate, and so does little to prove that the Life is an eleventh-century forgery. 
 
 

Actually, one of Smyth's best arguments lies in his fastening on to what he describes as anachronistic Grecisms in the Life of King Alfred. He identifies three such Greek borrowings: enchiridion (hand-book),89 graphium (document) and eulogii (text).90 The presence of these words is a point of significance, firstly, because neither they nor any other Greek locutions are to be found anywhere else in Anglo-Saxon literature dated before the second half of the tenth century91 and secondly, because they are all represented in the writings of Byrhtferth.92 Indeed, one of Byrhtferth's works, rendered in English as the Manual, was originally entitled Enchiridion. Thus far, the only defender of the orthodox view to challenge this line of argument is Simon Keynes. Regarding the term enchiridion, he contends that it was "commonplace on the continent in the eighth and ninth centuries, and is precisely the kind of idea that would have been bandied across the table at King Alfred's court."93 Yet does this argument not resemble Smyth's long-reaching inference regarding the availability of Welsh sources which Keynes himself is so eager to attack? While there certainly were a number of scholars familiar with Greek in mid-ninth-century Francia,94 it is simply unreasonable to argue, on the basis of this, that any particular piece of their Greek learning would have been current in Wessex a full generation later. Furthermore, what is especially troublesome about Pseudo-Asser's use of enchiridion is that he actually describes Alfred as informing his scholar-teacher about the meaning of this foreign word.95 Outside of the Life, there is no evidence to support the notion that Alfred was in the slightest bit acquainted with Greek,96 and it is rather odd that Asser, who was by this time supposed to have been in contact with the king's Frankish scholars for several months, would have had to learn a vogue piece of Greek knowledge from his own pupil.
 
 

Still, Smyth's Grecisms are very isolated, and in order to really prove that Byrhtferth of Ramsey actually wrote the Life of King Alfred, he has to of course establish substantial syntactical and stylistic similarities between this text and other works that can be attributed to this eleventh-century author; namely, the History of Kings, the Manual, the Life of Saint Ecgwine and the Life of Saint Oswald. Focusing on their common use of certain relatively obscure Frankish words such as indiculus, famen, castellum and senior along with their common propensity for polysyllabic adverbs ending in iter, Smyth builds up what appears to be an impressive case here.97 His failing though is that, while he does a reasonably good job of identifying significant similarities, Smyth apparently fails to recognize the great differences between the Life and the known works of Byrhtferth which strongly indicate that this eleventh-century monk could not have written the biography in question.98 Howlett, an acknowledged authority on the writings of Byrhtferth and Anglo-Latin studies in general, is particularly annoyed with this fault in Smyth's work, so much so, in fact, that he sends the following piece of advice in Smyth's direction: "[s]omeone who cannot distinguish the great semantic, syntactic, stylistic and structural differences between the Life and these four works might think twice about publishing his opinions."99 
 
 

Indeed, it is Smyth's inability to demonstrate that the Life of King Alfred possesses any serious linguistic anachronisms that has led most scholars to acknowledge the "genuine Asser." Abels, for instance, accepts the authenticity of the Life primarily because the "author's Latinity and the texts that he quotes are consistent with a late ninth-century dating."100 A little less sure of things, Keynes says that, in order to arrive at any sort of formidable conclusion to the authenticity debate, "the burden will lie on those expert in the study of Insular literature to establish whether there is a cultural or intellectual milieu from which the Lifemight have emerged in the late ninth century, or whether a work of this nature must have emerged from a milieu which would be by definition that of a later forger."101 But have these scholars not stepped into something of a pitfall? Simply put, to prove that a text is roughly contemporaneous to its purported author is not to prove that the text itself is authentic. As a result of an excessive willingness to rely upon linguistic evidence, it simply has not occurred to anyone involved in this controversy that the Life of King Alfred could have been forged in the late ninth or early tenth century. The fact of the matter is that a linguistically construed context can only provide a date, and as regards early English texts, their own scarcity forces any window created by the establishment of such a context to be fairly broad. Therefore, in the absence of another text that can be positively identified as being the work of the historical Asser, it is absolutely impossible for linguistic evidence to pin the Life to this individual. 
 
 

Concerning the Life of King Alfred in particular though, there is perhaps a better reason as to why we ought to be more cautious in allowing ourselves to be moved solely on the basis of textual evidence. While, as Smyth says, historians need not linger in a state of awe,102 it is still absolutely essential that they remain fully cognizant of the fact that not a single medieval manuscript of Alfred's biography has survived beyond the eighteenth-century. The last medieval MS, dated to c. 1000 (Cotton MS Otho A. xii.) and probably itself a second or third generation copy, was destroyed by fire in 1731.103 Modern scholarship pertaining to the Life has come to depend on James Hill's free-hand drawing of its opening lines (c. 1720), the printed editions of Parker (1574), Camden (1602) and Wise (1722), a transcript drawn up by Parker (c. 1570), as well as the opinions of various scholars and antiquaries who had seen the Manuscript before 1731.104 It is thus difficult to procure a truly good understanding of the original text, and while Stevenson certainly did well to identify and free the Life of numerous early-modern interpolations, it would be purely pretentious to suppose either that his work constituted an unqualified purge of such distortions or that the sixteenth-century transcript upon which much of his work rests is a perfect rendering of the Cotton MS. I am in no way attempting to denigrate linguistically oriented research, nor would I ever contend that more purely historical modes of argumentation stand above this limitation, for they do not. (Incidentally, it would be difficult to give credence to the notion that many of the gross contradictions and errors found in the Life are of the sort that they could be attributed to the blundering of later scribes- they are far too numerous). The point here is simply that it would be imprudent to regard textual evidence, paleography in particular, as fully binding when Alfred's biography has not come down to us "carved in stone."105 
 
 

It is nevertheless generally accepted that what we now have of the Life of King Alfred is an unfinished draft.106 The narrative ends rather abruptly and only covers events down to the year 893, a full six years before Alfred's death. Strangely, this latter fact has recently been advanced by Abels as an argument in favor of the work's authenticity. He cannot understand why a later forger would fail to elaborate upon the great achievements of Alfred's last years; his great victories over the Vikings in 893-896, his laws or his translation program.107 This point is ambiguous however, as it can also be put forth by anyone willing to argue that the Life was written by someone other than Asser. Why, it could be asked, would the historical Asser have made these same omissions when it is known that he outlived Alfred by roughly a decade? 
 
 

Finally then, it would be worthwhile to briefly address the question of motive, for the greatest failure of previous skeptics, from Wright all the way down to Smyth, is that they have all been unable to provide their respective forgers with a really plausible motive for going through the trouble to fabricate an apparently contemporareous biography of a long-since dead king. In response to earlier assertions concerning the forged nature of the Life, Whitelock rightly asks, "[i]f the work is a forgery, whom was it intended to benefit, and equally important, whom was it intended to deceive?"108 She then goes on to condemn the theories of Galbraith and company because they, "never at best accounted for more than a small portion of a long work."109 Keynes puts this latter point to good use. According to Smyth, Byrhtferth constructed a biography of Alfred and surreptitiously attributed it to Asser in order to supply a prototype of King Edgar (959-975), whose credibly attested historicity would then in turn lend support to the monastic reform movement which Edgar had helped set into motion.110 What he cannot overcome though, as Keynes says, is that such a message is really not all that prominent in the Life. While it certainly builds up the king's saintly character, this biography simply does not give the impression that Alfred was all that interested in monastic reform. His policies regarding the establishment and administration of monastic houses are dealt with in only nine out of one-hundred and six chapters,111 and having read this biography with some care, I can say with confidence that Smyth's alleged purpose is scarcely discernible.112 
 
 

The motives that can most appropriately be ascribed to Alfred's biographer are without a doubt those that are put forth, both explicitly and implicitly, by the biographer himself. It is clear that the author wanted to write about a pious warrior-king, not only for his own interest, but to satisfy a curiosity among learned circles in Wales regarding a man who had become central to the unfolding of Welsh politics.113 Yet these intentions need not be assigned to the historical Asser, for they can also be conferred upon some other author of the Alfredian age who was much less familiar with king Alfred and thus much more likely to produce the sort of "second-hand" biography that has so frequently attracted skepticism.
 
 

This is not to suggest that bishop Asser had nothing to do with the fabrication of this biography. On the contrary, there is good reason to believe that the historical Asser was somehow involved, albeit in an indirect manner. The accurate naming of royal estates such as Wantage, Chippenham and Reading,114 or the use of fashionable Greek and Frankish words would appear to indicate that the author of the Life had, at the very least, some loose connection to a notable courtier such as Asser. And given the obvious Welsh connection, it is not all that difficult to build up a picture of some unknown Welsh ecclesiastic, perhaps a friend or pupil of Asser's from St. David's, writing a biography in Asser's name so as to honour his distinguished mentor and provide the text itself with a greater degree of authority. The author of the Life does suggest that St. David's was home to a number of learned men, and added to this, while evidence from Wales is lacking, the forging of documents was becoming increasingly common throughout the course of the ninth century.115 As for a date, such a scenario would of course require Alfred's biography to have been written after Asser's death, and it is not in the least bit unreasonable to believe that this is what actually happened; that the Life of King Alfred was composed in or shortly after 910. Although what I am suggesting here is largely conjectural in nature, it does fit rather nicely, for it is a possibility that adequately reconciles the late ninth to early tenth-century Welsh origin of the Life with the obviously "second-hand" account of King Alfred that is contained within this text. It should, at the very least, serve as a catalyst for further inquiry. 
 
 
 
 

Endnotes

1. In chapter 79, the author of Alfred's biography appears to indicate that Asser had been the bishop of St. David's in Wales. See "The Life of King Alfred," trans. Simon Keynes and Michael Lapidge, in Alfred the Great: Asser's Life of King Alfred and other contemporary sources, ed. Keynes and Lapidge (London: Penguin, 1983), 95-96. This dating of the Life is based on Asser's statement to the effect that Alfred was writing in the forty-fifth year of Alfred's life: 893 on the basis of Asser's earlier testimony in chapter 1; 891-892 on the basis of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, version A. 

2. The debate which follows is best summarized in Alfred P. Smyth, King Alfred the Great (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995), 154-157. Also, for more detail on the state of the question up to 1959, consult Asser's Life of King Alfred, ed. Stevenson, 2d ed., with article by Dorothy Whitelock (Oxford: The Oxford Clarendon Press, 1959), xcv-cxxix, cxl-clii. 

3. Smyth, 154-155; Stevenson, xcv-cvii; Charles Plummer, The Life and Times of Alfred the Great (Oxford: Oxford Clarendon Press, 1902), 21-22. 

4. Galbraith, V. H., "Who wrote Asser's Life of Alfred," in An Introduction to the Study of History (London: C. A. Watts & Co., 1964), 91-96; Stevenson, cii-civ; Plummer, 18-20. 

5. Dorothy Whitelock, "The Genuine Asser," in From Bede to Alfred (London: Variorum, 1980). Whitelock simply contends that the meaning of parochia is not a settled issue; Keynes and Lapidge, 50-51. 6. Whitelock, 14. 

7. Ibid., 15. 

8. Ibid. 

9. Keynes and Lapidge, 50-51. 

10. Michael Atschul, review of King Alfred the Great, by Alfred P. Smyth, American Historical Review 102 (1997): 1463. 

11. James Campbell, "Alfred's Lives," review of King Alfred the Great, by Alfred P. Smyth, Times Literary Supplement (26 July 1996): 30. 

12. B. Yorke, "Fake Cakes," History Today 46 (December 1996): 58. 

13. D. R. Howlett, review of King Alfred the Great, by Alfred P.Smyth, English Historical Review 112 (1997): 944. 

14. S. D. Keynes, "On the Authenticity of Asser's Life of King Alfred," Journal of Ecclesiastical History 47 (1996): 530. 

15. Ibid., 539. 

16. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 93-97, 99-100. 

17. There are of course some minor differences between the Chronicle and Chronicle-based sections in the Life. See Stevenson, lxxix-lxxx, cxxxvi. 

18. Keynes, 536, 544. 

19. Consult Geoffrey of Monmouth, The History of the Kings of Britain, trans. Lewis Thorpe (London: Penguin, 1987), and Tatlock, J. S. P., The Legendary History of Britain: Geoffrey of Monmouth's Historia Regum Britaniae and its Early Vernacular Versions (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1950).

20. Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, in Dorothy Whitelock, ed., English Historical Documents I c. 500-1042, 2d ed. (London: Eyre Methuen, 1979), 192. 

21. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 77-78.

22. Ibid., 71-72. 

23. Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, in EHD I, 2d ed. , 181. 

24. Ibid., 183. 

25. Smyth, 176. 

26. Keynes and Lapidge, note 32, p. 236. 

27. D. P. Kirby, The Making of Early England (London: B. T. Batsford, 1967), 269-270. Sources pertaining to this subject were difficult to find and what I say is based entirely upon what is stated by Kirby: "[n]ot all the travelling round the continent was by sea. Many English pilgrims and merchants also went overland through Gaul to reach the Mediterranean."

28. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 71-72.

29. Smyth, 177. 

30. Keynes and Lapidge, 197-198. 

31. Smyth, 182-183. 

32. Ibid., 183. 

33. Ibid., 183-184. 

34. Smyth, 185. See Smyth's note as well. The Latin text reads as follows: "Tunc ille statim tollens librum de manu sua, magistrum adiit et legit. Quo lecto, matri retulit et recitavit." See Asser, in Stevenson, 20, as well as Stevenson's note on pp. 220-225. Keynes and Lapidge translate this as, "[h]e immediately took the book from her hand, went to his teacher and learnt it. When it was learnt, he took it back to his mother and recited it." Using more common usages of "legit," "lecto" and "recitavit," the alternate and more common-sense translation would be this: "[t]hen, at once taking the book from her hand, he went to the teacher and read (it). When it was read, he returned to [his] mother and read [it] aloud." One could ask why, if Alfred already knew how to read, would he go to a teacher at all? The response, of course, is that it was this teacher who taught him how to read. 

35. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 75. 

36. Smyth, 183-185. See also, Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, EHD, 2d ed., 188. Incidentally, it is difficult to believe that Athelstan was not born to Aethelwulf by another woman when he it is clear that he was already in his adulthood some ten years before Alfred's birth. 

37. Asser, in Stevenson, 20. 

38. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 99. 

39. Ibid., 93. 

40. Ibid., 77, 88-89, 90. 

41. Ibid., 67-68. It is worthy to note that the Pseudo-Asser totally botches these genealogies. See Smyth, 173-174 and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, in EHD I, 2d ed., 147. 

42. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 77. 

43. Ibid., 90. See also Smyth, 196-197, for he argues that this is strictly invention. 

44. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 90. 

45. Keynes and Lapidge, note 58, p.241. 

46. Smyth, 171-173, 180, 196. 

47. Keynes and Lapidge, 49; as well as note 2, p.298. 

48. "The Preface to Alfred's English translation of the Pastoral Care," in Keynes and Lapidge, 126. 

49. Keynes and Lapidge, 49-50; Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, EHD, 2d ed., 192. 

50. Smyth, 355. This diocese was so large that it was divided into three After Asser's death in 909. 

51. "The Will of King Alfred," in Keynes and Lapidge. While this "bishop of Sherborne" was probably Asser's predecessor, bishop Wulfsige, what is important here is that the inheritance is being bestowed upon the bishop of Sherborne in accordance with the prominence of his office. 

52. John Godfrey, The Church in Anglo-Saxon England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1962), 384-385. 

53. The dating of Asser's accession to the bishopric of Sherborne is an unsettled issue. All that is clear is that this occurred at some time between 892 and 900. See Keynes and Lapidge, 49. 

54. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 67. 

55. There is simply no evidence capable of supporting the conclusion that Alfred had ever seen or even knew anything about the Life. 

56. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 67. 

57. Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, EHD, 2d ed., 147. 

58. If Alfred was born between January and mid-April, his year of birth would have been 848, but if he was born between mid-April and December, the correct year would be 847. 

59. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 78. 

60. Asser., 71; Smyth, 193-195. 

61. Asser, 77. 

62. Keynes and Lapidge, note 55, p. 240.

63. This is a fairly complicated issue. While the Chronicle was probably not propoganda as R. H.C. Davis believes, it does appear as though Alfred was involved with its dissemination. For the most comprehensive treatment of this question, see Smyth, 471-526.

64. Keynes and Lapidge, note 55, p. 240. 

65. Galbraith, 121.

66. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 82, 84-85. 

67. Ibid., 94, 96.

68. Keynes, 534. 

69. Smyth, 358-359, 364. 

70. Ibid., 364. 

71. Keynes, 545. The "three" places to which I am referring here can be found in Asser, chapters 21, 61 and 66. 

72. Smyth, 206-207. 

73. The Life of King Alfred was probably very scarce throughout the better part of the Middle Ages. See Keynes and Lapidge, 44-45, 56-57.

74. In terms of culture and social institutions/bonds, the similarities between Anglo-Saxon England and the Carolingian civilization on the continent are fairly pronounced. Consult Kirby, 141-162; Dorothy Whitelock, The Beginnings of English Society (London: Penguin, 1991), 29-48, 66, 215, 235; and the collection of essays in Patrick Wormald, Donald Bullough, Roger Collins, eds., Ideal & Reality in Frankish & Anglo-Saxon Society: Studies presented to J. M. Wallace-Hadrill (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1983). 

75. Smyth, 199-216, 182-183.

76. Smyth, 222-229; Galbraith, 104-109; Keynes and Lapidge, 55. 

77. Galbraith, 105-107.

78. Asser, in Stevenson, 54.

79. Stevenson, 294. This is an excerpt from Einhard's Life of Charlemagne included in Stevenson's note to chapter 73.

80. Keynes, 537.

81. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 74.

82. Smyth, 304-306. 

83. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 87.

84. Plummer, 40-41.

85. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 85. 

86. I found no direct references to Cornish affairs in the annals dealing with the early years of Alfred's reign. This is, however, of little consequence. 

87. Smyth, 210-212.

88. Ibid., 211. 

89. Smyth, 282-284; Asser, in Stevenson, 75. See Stevenson's note on p.326 as well. Although Keynes and Lapidge italicize enchiridion on p. 89, they do not leave anything in the way of a commentary. 

90. Asser, in Stevenson, 79.

91. Smyth, 282. Smyth, it should be noted, relies upon the research of Lapidge here. 

92. Ibid., 283. 

93. Keynes, 544.

94. Smyth, 282. 

95. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 89. 

96. Smyth, 82. 

97. Ibid., 278-300. For his arguments relating to Frankish loan words, see idem. 278-280, and for his discussion of common adverb usage, idem. 285-290. 

98. Keynes, 538; Howlett, 942-944. 

99. Howlett, 942. 

100. Richard Abels, Alfred the Great: war, kingship and culture in Anglo-Saxon England (London; New York: Addison Wesley Longman, 1998), 324. 

101. Keynes, 536-537. 

102. Smyth, 169. 

103. This dating rests on rather meagre evidence. See Smyth, 156. As an aside, Smyth develops the argument (pp. 159-169) that, because the last known MS was dated to c. 1000 and because there is a cluster of references to and adaptations from the Lifebeginning in the mid-eleventh-century, it is reasonable to begin the search for an author in the age of Byrhtferth. 

104. For a good summary of the manuscript history, see Stevenson, xi-lv; Smyth, 154-157. 

105. Keynes, 530. It is intersting to note that Gerald of Wales makes reference to an historical account from "Asser, the historian and reliable narrator of the deeds of King Alfred," which is nowhere to be found in the Lifeas we now have it. See Keynes and Lapidge, 57. 

106. Keynes and Lapidge, 57. 

107. Abels, 325-326. 

108. Whitelock, "The Genuine Asser," 20. 

109. Ibid. 

110. Smyth, 261-264, 268-272, 332. 

111. Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, chapters 92-98, 102, pp. 102-105, 107. 

112. Keynes, 539. 

113. In order to protect their domains from rivals in Wales and the aggression of the Mercians, a number of Welsh kings came to recognize the overlordship of king Alfred. See Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 96; as well as Wendy Davies, Wales in the Early Middle Ages (Leicester: Leicester University Press, 1982), 113-114.

114. Keynes, 545. 

115. While discussing Asser's choice to go to Wessex, Pseudo-Asser states that the land of the Saxons would, "derive benefit in every respect from the learning of St. David . . ." Asser, in Keynes and Lapidge, 94. As for my statement regarding forgeries, see Rosamond McKitterick, "Introduction: sources and interpretation," in The New Cambridge Medieval History, vol. 2, ed. idem (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 17.