Alfred's Wars is a quirky book. It is not quirky bad. It is, in fact, very good. It will likely stand for many years as the seminal work on its subject, ninth- and tenth-century Anglo-Saxon military history—so attested not only by this review but also by De Re Militari, the Society for Medieval Military History, which awarded Alfred's Wars its 2012 J. F. Verbruggen prize for best book.

But it is still a quirky book. For one, it is not entirely Ryan Lavelle's own work. Several times throughout the book, he drops long passages from original sources or entire articles or chapters from other authors into the text. On every occasion these are important additions, often removing the need for paraphrasing the work, although it should be noted that they are not always accepted entirely by Lavelle, who then goes on sometimes for several pages on what and why he disagrees. Original sources include large portions of The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (sometimes Lavelle's translation, sometimes others'); a lengthy bit of Russell Poole's translation of Lidsmannaflokkr; the entire treaty between Alfred and Gunthrum; several laws of Kings Athelred and Cnut; various Anglo-Saxon wills; a large segment of “The Battle of Maldon”; and parts of Asser's Life of Alfred, the Fragmentary Annals of Ireland, the Encomium Emmae reginae, the Translatio sancti Ælfegi, and Orderic Vitalis's and Geffrei Gaimar's chronicles. Entire articles and chapters include C. Warren Hollister's “The Personnel of the Select Fyrd,” from his Anglo-Saxon Military Institutions on the Eve of the Norman Conquest (Oxford, 1962); Nicholas Hooper's “Some Observations on the Navy in Late Anglo-Saxon England,” from Studies in Medieval History Presented to R. Allen Brown (Woodbridge, 1989); David Hill and Sheila Sharp's “An Anglo-Saxon Becon System,” from Names, Places and People: An Onomastic Miscellany in Memory of John McNeal Dodgson (Stamford, 1997); and F. P. Magoun's “King Alfred's Naval and Beach Battle with the Danes in 896,” Modern Language Review 37 (1942), as well as lengthy quotes from John Richard Green, E. A. Freeman, Frank M. Stenton, P. Vinogradoff, Richard Abels (six pages and later four pages long), Richard Abels and Stephen Morillo together, Nicholas Hooper, Donald Scragg, and W. C. Green.

It is difficult to understand these inclusions, because almost all of them are readily available online or through interlibrary loan. Boydell and Brewer has published previous volumes in the Sources and Interpretations series that have a mixture of original sources and reprinted secondary studies (i.e., Stephen Morillo's The Battle of Hastings). One might then surmise that this volume was originally intended to be similar, only to change halfway through the writing process to the hybrid that is presented here. There is nothing wrong with this, I suppose—all are acknowledged properly in a section following the table of contents itself. It is just quirky.

Also quirky are the number of tables and charts placed within the text: “Scandinavian Rune-stones referring to England from the late tenth and eleventh centuries”; “Types of Military service and their landed assessments”; “Heriots and bequests of weapons in Anglo-Saxon wills”; “Terms for ships used in Æthelweard's Chronicon, and other narrative sources”; “Names of witnesses in charters associated with King Athelstan's Scottish campaign”; “Suggested overland speeds of elements of an early medieval army”; “Comparison of extracts from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle manuscript entries CD and E for 1052, showing the Godwine family and King Edward's movements, with places shown in bold”; “Factors concerning urban status and defensibility”; “Attacks on English towns and their relative sizes”; “Viking activities around Exeter”; and “Antiquarians' suggested locations for the events in the Ethandun campaign.” Lengthy chronologies are also placed within the text, as well as in the single appendix. Again, none of this is particularly wrong; in fact, what is included in the tables and charts is the result of some very important research done by Lavelle—although I questioned some of its applicability to the text (“Antiquarians suggested locations”?).

Clearly I was distracted by the nontraditional makeup of the book. But, at the same time, I was incredibly impressed by what Lavelle says within the text. Others have written about Alfred the Great's military and wars (John Preddie, Richard Abels, Alfred P. Smyth, and Eleanor Shipley Duckett, being among the best). But none have so thoroughly dissected all the sources—written, archaeological, and artistic—to produce such a complete analysis of the actions that and actors who determined the history of late Anglo-Saxon England. Some historians might dispute this, noting Alfred's influence on religion, education, and society as superior to his military feats. But it is hard to argue that without his effective military strategies, offensive (building a numerically and technologically strong army and navy) and defensive (building a large number of defensive burhs throughout his kingdom), and victorious tactics on the battlefield—where he defeated several large Viking armies, although also losing to some—Alfred's “greatness” in religion, education, and society would never have been achieved.

Lavelle discusses all aspects of Alfred's strategy and tactics, setting them in the context of Anglo-Saxon history a couple of centuries before and after his rule. At times this stretches the evidence to fit Alfred's experiences—I am dubious of using the Bayeux Tapestry to detail ninth-century military technology, especially when some Carolingian arms and armor from the same period differ considerably (the helmets, for example). These minor complaints, however, as well as the quirkiness of the book's organization and inclusions, should not keep anyone interested in medieval military history or the history of Anglo-Saxon England (or both) from profiting from Lavelle's fine achievement.