- Steve Roberts`s Website

King Arthur…in Fact and Fable
K
ing Arthur is
Geoffrey depicted
Was the legendary hero a real person?
a figure who
Arthur as a king
has always
We examine the evidence to try and find the truth of Britain who
fascinated me. Not
defeated the Saxons
the fabled king in shining armour, so
and established an empire that included
beloved of Hollywood, but the “real” king,
Ireland, Iceland, Norway and Gaul (modern
who allegedly inhabited these islands in
France). Many of the elements that are now
the late 5th and early 6th centuries AD.
an integral part of the Arthurian myth, such
This Arthur led British resistance against
as Arthur’s father, Uther Pendragon, Merlin,
the invading Anglo-Saxons; or so the story
Guinevere, Excalibur, Arthur’s conception at
goes.
Tintagel and his final battle at Camlann are
But what is story and what is truth? Was
all present.
there ever a real Arthur and if so, what did
Also in the 12th century, the French
he do? If there was a real heroic Arthur,
writer, Chretien de Troyes, added both
why was one Arthur not enough? Why did
Lancelot and the Holy Grail to the story,
we have to invent another one, which has
beginning the genre of Arthurian romance
caused the distinction between fact and
that became a significant strand of mediaeval
fable to be blurred ever since? All we can
literature. In these French stories the
say with certainty is that there is no myth
emphasis often switches from the king
in British history to match the story of King
himself to his knights, now referred to as
Arthur.
“the Knights of the Round Table”. Camelot
The problems really started in the 1130s
was also identified as Arthur’s principal
when Welsh cleric Geoffrey of Monmouth
court. Arthurian literature was prominent
wrote his pseudo-historical Historia
throughout the Middle Ages, with physical
Regum Britanniae (“History of the Kings
locations also being identified as “Arthurian”
of Britain”), giving people a figure called
from the 12th century.
“Arthur” to latch on to. This was the first
William of Malmesbury, the foremost
attempt at a narrative account of Arthur’s
English historian of the 12th century, which
life, rather than just tantalising snippets in
was clearly a boom period for Arthurian
earlier sources. How much Geoffrey made
scribing, contributed another part of the
up and how much he took from earlier Welsh and Breton
legend, which was the belief that Arthur was not dead and
tales is unknown. What we were left with, however, was
would at some point return. The legend was thus born that
something that was both very entertaining and exciting, but
Arthur would rise again in the future when his nation was
also of uncertain provenance. At least Geoffrey placed Arthur
in grave peril.
in the same post-Roman period as had earlier sources.
The legend was built on in the late 15th century when the
In spite of our modern misgivings, Geoffrey’s version of
English writer Sir Thomas Malory wrote or compiled his Le
events seemed to be accepted as the authoritative starting
Morte d’Arthur, seemingly trying to provide a comprehensive
point for any later retelling of the tale, in the same way that
and authoritative collection of Arthurian stories in the one
Polydore Vergil and later Shakespeare set a benchmark,
place. This work was another influential one, which set
however fairly or unfairly, for Richard III. His work was
the tone for those that followed, partly because it was one
so influential, however, that from then on sources were
of the first printed works in England, courtesy of William
considered to have been either “before” or “after” Geoffrey,
Caxton in 1485. Malory repeated William of Malmesbury
the “after” ones clearly having been much influenced by him.
declaring that, “many men say that there
is written on his tomb this verse: Here lies
Arthur; once and
future king”.
The end of
the Middle Ages
brought a waning
An illustration of
part of the Arthurian
legend, two editions of
Malory’s famous work
and (opposite page)
Tennyson’s account of
Arthur’s passing, the
author of the article at
Camlann (Camelford),
and Dozmary Pool on
Bodmin Moor.
of interest in Arthur as people questioned the veracity of
the stories. A decline then set in before a renaissance was
achieved in Victorian times, with, for example, Tennyson’s
“Idylls of the King”. This renewed interest showed itself
when Malory’s work was reprinted in 1816, the first time
for over 180 years.
The dichotomy was established though. There was
a historic Arthur, set in the Dark Ages, who Geoffrey of
Monmouth had introduced to an
unsuspecting world. As his story was
retold and embellished, however, he
was supplanted by an Arthur fit for the
Middle Ages, who encapsulated all the
notions of chivalry that were felt to be
so important at the time. My mission is
to strip away the fable and get back to
the fact: the shadowy Arthur who lived
longer ago. Who was he and where can
you go today to find him?
The first datable reference to King
Arthur is a 9th-century Latin text. The
Historia Brittonum is a historical
compilation attributed to a Welsh cleric
called “Nennius”, which lists 12 battles
that Arthur fought. These culminate in
the Battle of Mons Badonicus, or Mount
Badon, where he is said to have singlehandedly killed 960 men. Clearly the last
statement is nonsense unless Arthur had
sneakily acquired the use of a machine-gun. Excepting this,
there may be a grain of truth in here. Historians have long
debated the authenticity of Arthur, but there is certainly a
school of thought today, originating from Nennius and then
the 10th-century Annales Cambriae (the Welsh Annals) that
there was a real, genuine, Dark Age figure “mixing it” with
the Saxons. The Welsh Annals also mention Mount Badon.
One theory is that he may have been a Romano-British
leader, a Romanised Briton, who was prepared to lead the
resistance when the Romans left and the Saxons came.
Neither Nennius nor the Annals actually refer to Arthur
as a king, although he is referred to by name. He is instead
referred to as a “leader”, for example, “then Arthur fought
against them in those days with the kings of the Britons
and it was he who led their battles”. Perhaps he was more a
“generalissimo” than a monarch.
The Annals date Mount Badon to around 516-518 AD
and also mention the Battle of Camlann in which Arthur
was said to have been killed, the latter battle being dated at
537-539 AD.
One of the most famous Welsh poetic references to Arthur
comes in the collection of heroic death-songs known as
Y Gododdin, attributed to the 6th-century poet Aneirin.
Sadly we only know about this from a later 13th-century
manuscript, so it is impossible to say if the key passage is
contemporary, near contemporary or just a later edition. So
much of the hunt for Arthur is like this.
It has to be admitted, then, that there is little early
evidence of Arthur and even what
there is was written long after he
is alleged to have lived. Sadly, the
period of the fall of the Roman
Empire is the least documented
in British history and it is the very
period we are interested in. For these
reasons many modern historians omit
Arthur from their retelling of postRoman and Dark Age Britain. The
British cleric Gildas, writing as early
as the 6th century in his De Excidio
et Conquestu Britanniae (“On the
Ruin and Conquest of Britain”), does
mention Mount Badon, but does not
mention Arthur. He is not mentioned
at all in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle
or in Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of
the English People, although again the
fisticuffs at Mount Badon are worthy
of a mention.
There are others, however, who believe there is
definitely sufficient evidence to distinguish a remote war
leader, a real-life British hero of the early 6th century
whose fame was acquired from successful battles against
the invaders. Surely there could be no smoke without fire?
We can say with certainty that whatever part Arthur
played, king, war leader or nought, these years were among
the most significant in the history of Britain. As the AngloSaxons swarmed into the south and east (now England),
the Ancient Britons were pushed out to Cornwall, Wales
and Scotland, giving us the British composition that we
know today. If you’ve ever thought being in Cornwall was a
bit like being in Wales, well this is why.
Some of the sites that are traditionally associated with
Arthur have to be taken with a pinch of salt to say the least.
In 1191, just six years after Glastonbury Abbey had been
destroyed by fire, the monks conveniently discovered the
remains of a large man buried in a tree trunk, which they
immediately claimed were those of Arthur. This gave their
restoration fund a boost as the curious came to visit in
If all this has not whet the appetite enough you can also
drive on to Bodmin Moor and have a look at Dozmary Pool
where the magical sword “Excalibur” was supposed to have
been returned after Arthur’s death. This desire to believe in
Arthur is clearly very strong even today.
The historical backdrop that we must keep coming back
to, however, is what did actually happen as the Romans
withdrew from Britain to protect a
homeland that was increasingly under
threat from barbarian incursions. In
410 the Britons, similarly under siege,
appealed to Rome for assistance, but
were told by the Emperor, Honorius, in
no uncertain terms, that they had to look
to themselves from now on. According
to Zosimus, the late 5th-century writer
from Constantinople, the Britons now
organised their own defence and took up
arms against the invader. They held on to
a Romanised way of life as well, 70 years
or so after the legions had departed, so
had something worth defending.
The arrival of the Anglo-Saxons in large
numbers was not simply a case of them
taking ship and storming the shores, for it
appears that they might have been invited
in. The Britons, facing Pictish and Scottish
invasions from the north, appear to have
enlisted the Anglo-Saxons as mercenaries and they appear
to have arrived as “house-guests” in the years leading up to
450. Once here, though, they would not be leaving. They
would also be joined by lots of their “mates” as the AngloSaxon stranglehold on the south and east was established. It
may be that the mercenaries were even called in by Britons
fighting Britons, as a form of civil war filled the void left by
the end of organised Roman rule.
It was in this desperate situation, with the Britons
having lost control of their erstwhile employees and being
pushed steadily west by the marauding Anglo-Saxons, that
according to Gildas a defiant army leader enters our story
and our consciousness. Gildas, who is pretty much our
only reliable source for this period, mentions a series of
battles culminating in the great British victory at Mount
Baden, which secured peace for 40 years. Later traditions
insist that leader was Arthur.
As the former Roman towns and cities went into decline
the British leaders returned to the hills, refortifying
the Iron Age hill-forts. South Cadbury is such a place,
refortified in the 5th century AD, this confirmed by
archaeological digs in the late 20th century. The buildings
here were occupied in the late 5th century by someone
Jeffrey Beazley
their droves, no doubt buoyed up by
Geoffrey of Monmouth’s recent work.
You can still visit the site of King
Arthur’s tomb in the abbey grounds
today, but don’t expect to find King
Arthur there. The claim that this was
the Avalon of Arthurian legend was
only made in the late 12th century
and does not hold water.
There are similar difficulties
and doubts with some of the other
Arthurian sites that are dotted
around the country. These include
Tintagel (where Arthur was reputedly
conceived in the now ruined castle),
Winchester, where a round table adorns the wall of the
Great Hall of the castle, and South Cadbury where an
Iron Age hill-fort has been claimed as “Camelot”, Arthur’s
dazzling legendary HQ.
Cornwall, and Tintagel in particular, has generated
a whole tourist industry out of its supposed Arthurian
associations. As well as Arthur’s birthplace, you can also pay
a visit to Camelford, where nearby is the supposed site of
the Battle of Camlann. To “prove” its Arthurian provenance
a small Arthurian centre has now popped up here, together
with a walk across the battlefield to King Arthur’s stone, a
nine-foot inscribed stone, possibly of the 6th century, which
is supposed to mark the spot where the legendary king
died. There is a bridge over the water here and the crossing
is known as “Slaughterbridge”. It is known that another
dust-up occurred here as the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle does
mention a battle fought here in 823 AD, which may have
been confused with Camlann. It is also possible that more
than one battle may have taken place at this spot.
important; exactly the period when our Arthur was
allegedly fighting fire with the Saxons. Many such forts
were brought back into use, however, so Cadbury is not
necessarily significant as far as Arthur himself is concerned.
The key battle of Mons Badonicus or Mount Badon
possibly occurred a little before 500 AD, although the
Annals place it 20 years later. Unfortunately we don’t
even know for sure where the battle was fought, although
historian Michael Wood plumped for
Liddington Hill over 30 years ago. The
battle’s name suggests that a reoccupied
hill-fort featured (“Mons” = hill). It is
then a case of finding the most likely.
Liddington, near Swindon in
Wiltshire, has much in its favour. The
village underneath the hill is named
Badbury, which place-name experts say
could be derived from a Celtic “Badon”.
The hill occupies a central position
betwixt the Anglo-Saxon and British
spheres of influence as they stood in
the late 5th century, so would quite
feasibly have been an earthquake point
as the tectonic plates of the Saxons and
Britons rubbed against one another. This
was also one of the great junctions of
the time with the Roman Ermine Street
and the ancient Ridgeway meeting here.
Armies on the move would likely collide at this very place.
This was also a refortified hill-fort. The Britons were waiting.
Gildas refers to a “siege”, which suggests a hill-fort was
the focal point for a series of attacks and repulses, whilst
the Annals refer to a period of three days and nights,
which should not be taken literally, but does indicate a
lengthy battle involving ebb and flow. When victory was
achieved it was certainly comprehensive.
There is no doubting that Badon happened. The doubt
is all about where exactly it was and whether Arthur was
there. We only really have Nennius to go on. “The 12th
battle was on Badon Hill where 960 men fell in one day at a
single onset of Arthur; and no one killed them but he alone,
and in all the battles he came out victorious.” So wrote
our 9th-century cleric, admittedly about 330 years after the
events he was describing. The key supposition, though, is
that both Nennius and the Annals based their writings on
5th- and 6th- century texts, which would therefore make
their secondhand accounts much more contemporary.
Intriguingly Nennius lists the 12 battles allegedly fought
by Arthur, although these names are largely unfamiliar to
us today. If it were possible to identify where the bulk of
these names belong then it might be possible to have a
better stab at Arthur’s home “patch”. The few names that
can be interpreted do not indicate Cornwall (Tintagel
Arthurian industry take note) or Wales (the home of the
Annals) as Arthur’s stomping ground, but somewhere
further north around Cumberland, Northumberland and
Southern Scotland.
There is one further battle,
though, not mentioned by Nennius,
but there in the Annals: the fight
at Camlann in which Arthur was
killed. Place-name experts believe
that this battle was also fought in
the north, near the Roman fort at
Birdoswald, which was also known
as “Camboglanna”. If Arthur was
indeed some form of British leader
resisting incursions from Picts and
Scots in the vicinity of Hadrian’s
Wall, then this place would have
been a fitting end. So, maybe we
shouldn’t get too excited after all
about Camelford in Cornwall.
Perhaps it wasn’t the AngloSaxons then who felt Arthur’s fire,
but the northern tribes. If this is the
case then he certainly wouldn’t have
been at Ancient Britain’s finest hour at Badon. There is
another, separate, hero to be found in Wiltshire.
Although most films fall wide of the mark where
Arthur is concerned, it is possible, then, that King Arthur,
released in 2004, actually hits the nail on the head, as it
unusually portrays Arthur as a Roman officer fighting in
the north. The producers of the film actually claimed they
were presenting a version of the Arthurian legends that
was historically accurate, supposedly inspired by new
archaeological findings. Arthur is portrayed as a Roman
cavalry officer, the son of a Roman father and a British
mother, who commands a unit of auxiliary cavalry in
Britain at the close of the Roman occupation, in 467 AD.
Tellingly he and his men guard Hadrian’s Wall against a
group of native Britons who are rebels against Roman rule.
We will probably never know for sure, but I would
suggest that if you wish to find the real Arthur, the one
based in fact and deed, then you should look north. A
Cornish cream tea is also a very enjoyable and worthwhile
option though.
STEPHEN ROBERTS
Although Tintagel in Cornwall (right) is the place most people associate with King
Arthur, Hadrian’s Wall (below) might be a more accurate location.
Jeffery Whitelaw
Signs at
Camelford, the
round table at
Winchester and
(below)
Glastonbury
Abbey and the
mist-shrouded
Liddington Hill.