This fine account of a neglected (aren't they all?) figure in English history is also the story of how England came into being. The tale is not uncomplicated. Fortunately the author keeps the reader's interest with a great deal of fascinating and - for me at least - new information.
But then the elite does a wonderful job keeping us 'British'. Simon Schama's 'acclaimed' television history moved from Iron Age to Norman Conquest in one neat opening episode. David Dimbleby's 'Buildings of Britain' went further, reducing the first millennium to a brief aside about Hereward before getting down to the real business of celebrating the usurper.
Did you know that Kingston-upon-Thames boasts a ceremonial coronation stone upon which are said to have been crowned several Anglo-Saxons monarchs - including the great Athelstan?
Did you know the people of Kingston continue to celebrate Athelstan's life, and take pride in their Anglo-Saxon heritage (God bless 'em)? Paul Hill knew. As a former curator of the Kingston Museum he would. As for you, if you've heard of the stone of scone, or remember day-long BBC coverage of the its being processed back to scotland, that should tell you a lot.
The last of England could be traced to a patch of the Somerset Levels called Athelney during the late years of the 9th century. It was from Athelney that a King of the West Saxons, Alfred (whom scholars grudgingly agree deserved the title 'Great'), led his fightback against the Danish invader.
And not just Alfred. His daughter, Aelfleade or Elflaede, known to history as 'Lady of the Mercians', turned out something of a chip off the old block too, giving up sex and domesticity in favour of fortifying Mercian defences and commanding armies in the field. Elflaede it was who raised the young Aetheling (prince), Athelstan.
Anglo-Saxon attitudes to women were comparatively enlightened anyway, but this was a remarkable woman by any standards, and it seems likely she left her young charge in no doubt as to what would be expected of him in the years ahead. (Anyone interested in Elflaede might enjoy the historical novel, 'Lady of Mercia', by Penny Ingham).
Athelstan learned quickly. By the end of his short reign his reputation as a warrior king to be feared was established throughout Europe. Nor did he manage this by relying on armies of footsoldiers. Hill rejects the popular notion that Anglo-Saxon armies lacked mobility, demonstrating instead how lightening quick campaigns using mounted infantry - not cavalry - to track and overtake opponents actually earned the young monarch the name 'Thunderbolt'.
But more than just an astute military commander Athelstan was revered as a just ruler. He abolished the death penalty for offenders under the age of fifteen (those, at least, who did not resist arrest, though he wondered long and hard whether even this wasn't too cruel), an astonishing display of leniency for the period.
He was also implacable in his determination to unite 'Engla-lond', striving to promote a recognizably English sensibility by, for example, encouraging freemen to combine into Peace Guilds, thereby allowing whole communities to assume responsibility for fighting crime and helping to shape what we later came to know as the Common Law.
No book of this kind would be complete without a discussion of Brunanburh and Hill's is suitably detailed. Brunanburh is where Athelstan crushed a large army of scots, Vikings, irish, Dublin-Norse and Strathclyde welch, gathered there for the purpose of dislodging the English once and for all.
The location of this battle has never been fully ascertained (the likeliest candidate appears to be just outside Rotherham). All the various arguments are covered and, while the results are necessarily inconclusive, the author's handling of sometimes complicated material rarely fails to keep us with him.
The book includes a good selection of photographs. One I especially liked was of the statue of Elflaeda at Tamworth. Here the great lady is shown firmly clutching a sword while placing a reassuring arm around the shoulder of a young Athelstan. A picture said to be the tomb of Athelstan himself, this at Malmesbury Abbey, is equally well chosen.
Reservations about the book are few and slight. Athelstan's impact was felt throughout Britain, which presumably explains the title's reference to 'British' history, but I did question the supposed 'diversity' of first millennium England.
Scholarship allied to 21st century political box-ticking is tricky. Were Anglo-Danish populations really 'multicultural'? Did a monument pictured in an English high street in front of a building sporting Chinese characters really deserve a somewhat gratuitous reference to the country enjoying 'diversity' from early times to the present?
Danes, English and Norse were of the same race and quickly integrated. Indeed the faint suggestion that Danes somehow replaced the English needs to be sat on. 'Danelaw' was an administrative convenience. In areas settled by the Danish army (and in contrast to Anglo-Saxon invaders, who brought their own women and operated a system of apartheid) off-comers bred with pre-existing populations.
'Norman England' does not, for example, imply a country full of normans. It just tells us who ran things. Similarly while place-naming confirms substantial Danish influence throughout the eastern side of England these regions were never more than nominally 'Scandinavian'. We just never got round to altering the road signs. It is to the author's credit that he seems well aware how easy it is to be misled in this regard, adding as he does several caveats of his own.
'The Age of Athelstan' is part of a trilogy (other titles being 'The Road to Hastings' and 'Anglo-Saxons - The Verdict of History'). Until very recently out of print (I paid £40 not three months ago) the good news is that Amazon has it on sale again. Incredibly this volume appears to be the only full-length study of a critically important figure in England's history - a man many call the first 'King of the English'. If you can, buy it.