King Arthur, page 22
Discussion
Like many interested in the subject, I started hoping and wishing that such a figure existed, but perhaps willing to accept the evidence might not be there as yet. As I went through the sources I came to the disappointing conclusion that there is at least the possibility he did not exist and he was entirely a mythical figure. It’s difficult to put a percentage on this, but the likelihood of Arthur being mythical or a real figure now seems a lot closer than I had previously hoped. Because of this, I found myself reluctantly moving my position from Arthur being a historical figure on the balance of probabilities, to one of there simply not being enough evidence to support this.
That, however, seems to me the easy way out, so let me remove that option and force myself to choose between a mythical or historical figure. There is a reasonable chance that either option is correct. I have to concede, I am biased; I want there to be an Arthur. I’m sure most people would say the same. Who would want him to be mythical? Who would give up the possibility of solving the mystery? But hopefully I can detach myself from my prejudices and base it on the evidence.
Regarding the possibility of a mythical figure, it has to be accepted there are countless examples throughout history of a mythical figure becoming historicised. There is plenty of evidence that even eye-witness accounts can be faulty and the prevalence of modern conspiracy theories, many of them contradictory, demonstrates that even in our own time a false narrative can gain traction. Within a few generations it can become distorted further and the truth forgotten. But it’s a curious myth to develop, based as it is upon a very Roman-sounding name. In addition, one must consider the purpose of the Historia Brittonum, which was to inspire his contemporary ninth-century audience. It was written, I believe, with the expectation that the core story would be believed. We could say the same about the twelfth-century work of Geoffrey of Monmouth of course, which is riddled with falsehoods. There certainly was a great body of legends which had survived for the 600 years up to his time. Yet it may well be that ‘history keeps peeking through the gaps’. But Geoffrey cannot be trusted. As a witness he would be dismissed for his unreliability and lack of credibility. If we are to be consistent and rigorous with evidence, we must also dismiss all the later legends, stories and French romances.
This means no Avalon, it’s far too similar to other legends involving islands and nine maidens which existed separately to the Arthurian stories. It also means no Camelot, unless it’s some corruption of Caerleon, which is recorded as Arthur’s courts by Geoffrey of Monmouth. The Round Table is an obvious late addition and the simplest explanation is that it was stolen from Charlemagne’s story. Arthur’s sword was originally Caledfwlch and seems too similar to the Irish legendary sword Caladbolg. We can see the evolution from Caledfwlch to Caliburn, Calibur, Escalibur and so on. Its attributes are also similar to Charlemagne’s sword, Joyeuse. The fact many of the additions arrive via Breton or Norman sources may be no coincidence.
There is no Lancelot, no lady in the lake, and most certainly no Holy Grail. Likewise the sword in the stone seems far too similar to the legend of St Galgano. I have a soft spot for the legend of the London Stone, where someone in authority touches the stone with his sword, but my liking of a legend doesn’t make it true. Similarly, the idea of Arthur leading a cavalry unit is just guesswork. It may well be true, but there is no evidence. Perhaps he hated horses and was an infantryman throughout. Perhaps he hated swords and preferred a Frankish axe in battle. Nor can we speculate on Sarmatian cavalry or Eastern-European legends travelling thousands of miles and hundreds of years to appear in some veiled way with no clear evidence.
So what is left once we strip away the layers of the legend? We have a warrior; later legends call him a king or even emperor, although that goes too far. If king, it is a petty king, and he is one of many. He’s most certainly Christian as is the society in which he lives. His parents are consistently named Uthr and Eigr or Igraine. His wife is Gwenhwyfar, and Mordred is possibly his cousin or nephew. It is worth mentioning in general terms about all the various theories put forward, many of which rely on the interpretation of genealogies. What seems clear is that none of the earliest genealogies mention Arthur or his parents and are all written hundreds of years after he is supposed to have lived. Later sources, in their attempt to add his family to existing lines, cannot be trusted. Nor can we interpret any ‘Arth-’ type name any way we like. Too many of the theories ride roughshod over the genealogies, locations and battle names to arrive at self-serving and highly suspect translations and interpretations. What we can say for sure is they can’t all be right.
With that in mind I advise looking at two main sources for information. First, the original source material. This means good translations of Gildas, Bede, Nennius and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles. Second, books, papers and research by respected academics. I looked at degree-level courses online to find out what text books were required and found academics like Dumville, Davies, Higham, Yorke and Bartrum invaluable. In addition, the references in these books and papers allow one to build up a library of credible sources. Prior to this I had read many of the theories and thought many were reasonable and plausible. After researching the sources and the experts, however, I reread them and found many to be lacking in credibility. In short, none of them are wholly convincing.
There are several geographical areas that appear to be of greater interest than others:
1. The South Wales region: Connected through the lives of the saints. St David’s is named as one of his courts in the Triads. Caerleon is named as his palace by Geoffrey of Monmouth and may be the ‘city of the legion’ listed as one of his battles.
2. The North: Linked to northern genealogies as a great-great-grandson of Coel Hen. Linked to next generation through other characters, Urien, Owain, Lot and Myrddin Wylit. At least one of the battles, Celidon Wood, is likely to have been in the north, but several others have been suggested. The northern military command led by the Dux Britanniarum was the strongest in the post-Roman provinces. Originally based at York and controlling Hadrian’s Wall, it would likely be involved with any northern battles.
3. Lincoln: The most likely site of the four battles in the ‘region of the Linnuis’. Could be defended from northern forces based at York.
4. Wroxeter area: The Roman city appears to be one of the few that shows signs of development into the sixth century. A major centre in the original kingdom of Powys, it is close to Baschurch, Caer Faddon, Buxton, Chester, the river Gamlan and many other sites suggested as possible battle identifications. It may have been the location of Cuneglasus, one of Gildas’s five kings.
5. West country: Contains Amesbury, which has been suggested derives from Ambrosius, and later legends claim Guinevere retired to a convent. Close to Cadbury hill fort, Glastonbury and Bath, all associated with the later legends. Some of the saints’ lives place him across the Severn or in Devon or Somerset.
6. Cornwall: Includes one of his courts at Kelliwig but also Tintagel and Camlann from Geoffrey of Monmouth.
From a military point of view and the likely identification of some of the battles, a northern commander based at York seems more logical. Yet many of the Welsh legends do seem to focus on South Wales and the West Country. The fact that the most likely battle sites appear to range fairly widely from the Caledonian Forest to Lincoln does not suggest a local petty ruler operating in one small area. What is clear is that there is no association with the south east. Outside of Geoffrey of Monmouth and later stories, cities such as London, Canterbury and Colchester do not feature at all.
If we decide that Arthur is historical, the next useful step is to decide if he falls in the time on which we are focused. If not, then we have to accept Nennius wildly misplaced him. Given the amount of historical knowledge it’s unlikely such a figure could have gone unnoticed or misidentified either before 400 or after 600. The only likely candidate is Artur Mac Aedan of Dalriada. It is true that one could interpret all the twelve battles as being in the north, but we have to wonder why he became so famous as a British and later Welsh hero, and not as an Irish or later Scottish one. We also have a Life of St Columba who was a contemporary of Artur, although it was written a century later by Adomnan. Yet there is no connection made, either in this or any other source, that Artur was the Arthur of legend. So we are left with the period in which Nennius places him; that is after St Patrick but before Ida of Northumbria.
This brings us back to the three options left to us in the last chapter: an early Arthur 450–80; a middle Arthur 480–510; or a late Arthur 510–40. Each choice requires us to depart from some sources. It requires us to address certain questions:
• What does the Gallic Chronicle for 440 signify?
• How to interpret Gildas, especially his reference to Badon and forty-four years?
• How does Bede’s date for the Saxon arrival square with the Gallic Chronicle?
• How to interpret the apparent double entry of Cerdic in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles?
Let us first consider the political situation between Constantine III and circa 440 when the Gallic Chronicle records ‘Britain falls to the power of the Saxons.’ First, we can be fairly sure about what did not happen. We did not have a homogenous Romano-British society with no political, tribal, geographical or religious divides. Nor did we have one great mass of Anglo-Saxons, equally homogenous, who turned up en masse one day. We didn’t have some fluctuating border moving back and forth with the fortunes of war.
We know there were political divisions at the start. Constantine left behind an administration, but the Britons rebelled against them and appealed straight to the emperor. Honorius’s reply wasn’t to the Vicarius or Provincial Governors, but to the civitates. So there was some tension between central control of the island, the provinces and civitates. We don’t know if the provincial structure survived. Add to this tribal affinities; the fact that some tribal areas and civitates, such as Kent, survived even to this day, demonstrates there was continuity. However, it is unknown how much influence, if any, former tribal loyalties held. Then throw in religions tensions between the Pelagians and Orthodox Christians. There was also already a significant immigrant, and in particular, Saxon, population. Lastly, there was undoubtedly differing opinions regarding Rome and its influence. The letter-writers of 409 clearly felt connected to Rome, as did the appellants to Aetius a generation later. St Patrick referring to ‘citizens’, and Gildas referring to the ‘last of the Romans’, demonstrates the persistence of the link.
All these competing forces and agendas would not have lived in a vacuum of time and place, but would have shifted and changed across geography and time. For example, one can imagine trading ports and cities wishing to retain links with Rome and Gaul, while some tribal leaders flexed their muscles for independence. At the same time, some figures might have dreamed of following the footsteps of Constantine I, Maximus and Constantine III, uniting Britannia and declaring themselves emperor. Ethnic tensions may have risen, not just between Germanic immigrants and Romano-British, but between rival tribal areas. The religious divide on the Continent was often between Arian barbarians and Roman Orthodox Christians, although in Britain there are hints it also was between wealthy Pelagians and the more orthodox population. It’s tempting to think the appellants to Honorius in 409 had destroyed the Provincial structure, so perhaps there were no Governors to exert control, and yet as late as 540 Gildas claims, ‘Britain she has Governors, she has her watchmen’. From Gildas and Bede we hear there was a council of sorts, before approximately 450, to appeal to Aetius and hire mercenaries. Gildas certainly views the Romano-British as separate from the Saxons. He appeals to them as a whole, over the top of what he views as tyrant kings.
We have the makings of a complex and potentially dangerous political, racial, tribal and religious situation similar to many others throughout history, whether in the Balkans, Northern Ireland or Iraq. Yet the situation was calm enough to allow St Germanus to travel from Gaul in 429 and again years later. No kings are mentioned, but he meets a man of tribune rank. The people are Christian and on his second visit he’s able to remove the offending heretics. Clearly there is some sort of structure. There appears to be an army still, if one believes the story of the Alleluia Victory over the Pictish and Saxon raid. The archaeological evidence suggests towns and cities started to diminish in the fifth century, and yet there is still continuity. Hill forts start to be rebuilt and used; the economy starts to suffer and coinage begins to disappear. Yet Gildas reports that cities are not populated as before rather than completely deserted, and some sites, such as Wroxeter, show expansion at this time. Here is where my first deviation from mainstream theory occurs. I think the second visit of St Germanus was in 437 rather than 447. I’m convinced by the evidence presented earlier, but also it just doesn’t make sense if he visited after the incident that resulted in the Gallic Chronicle entry for 440. He would certainly have had something to say about that.
I think this is a very important date and it is another point on which I differ from past theories. Most people attempt to reconcile the 440 date with Bede’s Adventus Saxonum of 449. In the great scheme of things nine years doesn’t seem too great an obstacle to explain away. Yet when one looks at the sources of the Chronicle and Bede, the dates pull away from each other even more. It seems clear to me that this entry is accurate and the date, if anything, is before 440. What this means is a fundamental rethink of Gildas. Rather than the appeal being because of the Picts, it’s more likely due to this event. All those competing forces present between 410 and 440 come to a head. Perhaps the Saxon Shore forts break away under a Saxon leader. Perhaps the South East civitates or Province does likewise. So the entry in the Chronicle and the events reported by Bede are recording two separate events. I would like to put forward three possible alternatives:
1. There is a Saxon and Pictish rebellion/incursion, more successful than the one encountered by St Germanus ten years previously. This results in the Gallic Chronicle reporting that Britain falls to the power of the Saxons and Gildas reports the Picts take land ‘as far as the wall’. There is then an appeal to Aetius in 446. Subsequently, Angle and Jutish mercenaries are hired in 449 and it is this group who later rebel.
2. The narrative in Nennius is accurate in that mercenaries are invited around 428. He then goes on to describe further reinforcements, a marriage to a Saxon princess, being ceded Kent, the arrival of forty more ships, Vortimer’s four battles and poisoning, the Saxons returning and being ‘incorporated’, the night of the long knives and the Saxons being ceded several districts. So the Gallic Chronicle and Bede’s account could be describing two separate things within this. For example, the Gallic Chronicle could refer to a political change: Vortigern’s marriage, Kent being handed over or Vortimer’s death and subsequent return of Hengist. Bede on the other hand could be referring to the return of the Saxons after Vortigern retakes the throne and their being ‘incorporated’. The night of the long knives and taking over several districts in the South East could be the rebellion in Gildas.
3. The two dates do describe the same event, but the sources and timings are mistaken, meaning one, or both, sources are inaccurate.
I favour the first option, as we cannot completely trust Nennius. However, let us not forget that, other than the persistence of the legend over several hundred years, the Historia Brittonum is the only source that mentions Arthur within 300 years. So while I will conclude with an overall timeline, I will also attempt to create a timeline that best fits all the sources.
Once we accept that the Gallic Chronicle is a credible source, the next point in the sequence is the appeal to Aetius. There is no good reason to doubt it is Aetius, and the appeal is made when he is ‘thrice consul’. On the balance of probabilities, we will accept the appeal took place some time after 446. The next point is the appeal for mercenaries. Gildas labels them Saxons but Bede is quite clear that their leaders, Hengist and Horsa, are the eventual rulers of Kent and they are Jutes. He placed their arrival within ‘the time of Marcian and Valentinian’, 449–55. While Bede relies on Gildas he has access to other sources and clearly nothing has caused him to deviate from Gildas. Additionally, any Germanic immigrants in the ‘east of the island’, or to the north east, near the wall, are more likely to have been Angles.
The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle now comes into play. It records battles in 455 and 456, one of them apparently identical to one of Vortimer’s battles in Nennius. This could be the rebellion to which Gildas and Bede refer, thus the fight-back of Ambrosius occurs in the 460s. However, I would put forward an alternative, purely in an attempt to satisfy the Historia Brittonum. Vortimer is briefly successful but dies in the 450s. The Angles/Jutes return and are ‘incorporated’ (given official foedorati status). Then there is the ‘night of the long knives’, where 300 British nobles are slain and the ‘Saxons’ are ceded Essex, Sussex, Middlesex and other districts. Could this be the rebellion? If so, then following the chronology it is more likely to be in the 460s. Interestingly, one of the entries in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle for 465 records twelve Welsh chieftains being killed near Wipped’s Creek. A flight of fancy I know, but perhaps the 300 nobles killed in Nennius is an exaggeration of the same event. Regardless, this puts the rebellion in the 460s, which makes Ambrosius more likely to start his fight-back in the 470–80s.
