by Mike Ashley
The battle of Cunungeburg is more evenly fought, and the Saxons might have won had not a further detachment of Bretons arrived. Eldol, the survivor of the massacre of the nobles, who has been looking for an opportunity to kill Hengist, is able to capture and subsequently behead him. A tumulus at Conisbrough has long been believed to mark Hengist’s grave.
Geoffrey tells us that Hengist’s son Octa flees to York, where he is besieged. Realizing that resistance is futile, Octa submits. Amazingly, he is pardoned, as is his kinsman Eosa, who has fled to Alclud (Dumbarton). Ambrosius grants them “the region near Scotland” (viii.8), which may be intended to mean Bryneich (Bernicia).
The most interesting thing about this section is how soon Hengist is killed after the death of Vortigern. Geoffrey’s narrative can often take no cognisance of passing time, but here he makes it clear that events follow rapidly one after the other. If Geoffrey’s source is accurate then we have to accept either that Vortigern lived longer than previously thought, or that Hengist died earlier, and not as late as 488. I mentioned earlier that the entries between 457 and 473 seem stretched out as if trying to fill a gap, and it does seem unlikely that Hengist’s campaign really lasted for twenty-five years or more. However, these entries may also be subject to the nineteen-year discrepancy described elsewhere, in which case the ASC entry for 473 – which may mark Hengist’s last victory – should be 454. This could mean that Hengist was killed in battle some time between 455 and 460. If this is true, then we have driven a wedge between Hengist and Aesc/Octa. The entry for 488, identifying Aesc as succeeding to the kingdom of Kent, makes no reference to him succeeding Hengist, and it would explain why the subsequent ruling family of Kent were called the Oiscingas and not the Hengistingas. In effect, Hengist was not Aesc/Octa’s father, and may not have been related at all.
The next few sections we can skim. They tell of Ambrosius travelling to the destroyed cities and initiating a programme of rebuilding. He organises the burial of the massacred nobles at Kaercaradduc, which Geoffrey tells us is Salisbury. Ambrosius wants a permanent memorial to these noblemen, and consults Merlin. The result may be Stonehenge, although Geoffrey does not actually call it this, referring to it instead as the Giant’s Ring. He may have confused Stonehenge with the ring of Avebury, and likewise be confusing Avebury with Amesbury. He refers to the ring being built at the site of Mount Ambrius, where the nobles had been massacred. The origin of the name for Amesbury has long been associated with Ambrosius or, according to Geoffrey, with the monk St. Ambrius. It has been suggested that Ambrosius’s coronation, which Geoffrey has take place at the stone circle at Mount Ambrius, may have been at Avebury, and that this originated the legend of the Round Table.
After the ceremony, Ambrosius appoints as his bishops Samson to the see of York and Dubricius to the City of the Legions. Establishing dates for Dubricius (Dyfrig in British) is difficult but important, because he is closely associated with Arthur. Samson’s death is recorded – surprisingly specifically, but not necessarily accurately – as 28 July 565. We know that he was a contemporary of Gildas, who died around 572, and that both Samson and Gildas were pupils of Illtud, probably in the early 500s. Illtud was also the “instructor” of King Maelgwyn whom we have dated to the same period. Dubricius, a contemporary of Illtud’s, ordained Samson as bishop. Thus Dubricius has to be alive around the year 500, and could not have died in 612 as noted in the Welsh Annals. He is closely associated with the territory of Ergyng, and, according to the scattered facts of his life recorded in the Book of Llandaff, was born at Chilstone (“Child’s Stone”) and raised in nearby Madley, Hereford. There was once a St. Dubricius’s chapel at Lower Buckenhill, near Woolhope. Five charters in the Book of Llandaf were purportedly witnessed by Dubricius, although these span over a century. The earliest of them, a grant of land by King Erb of Gwent at Cil Hal near Harewood End, may be accurate (if a little doctored, as Dubricius is described as an Archbishop). This could well date to around 500. Bartrum suggests that Dubricius lived from around 465 to 521, whilst Nikolai Tolstoy dates his death to 532.
These dates for Samson and Dubricius are too late for them to have been appointed archbishops by Ambrosius in around 460, which is where we currently find ourselves in Geoffrey’s chronology. If there is any truth in Geoffrey’s claim that Ambrosius himself appointed them, the date would have to be closer to 500. Nothing in our analysis so far allows us to accept Ambrosius as ruling as late as 500, and he may well have been dead by then. Either Dubricius or Samson lived earlier (despite most other records suggesting they lived later), or Geoffrey has slipped a cog and jumped forward in time. As we shall see in Geoffrey’s next section, he has almost certainly conflated two stories from different periods, and somehow Dubricius and Samson have been pasted on to Ambrosius, though they belong to a later time.
From this point on, Geoffrey’s story lapses more into legend, suggesting that he switched his research from one set of old documents to another. It is now that he sows the seeds for the creation of Arthur.
5. Uther Pendragon
According to Geoffrey, Ambrosius’s kingship is short-lived. Pascent, son of Vortigern, rises up against Ambrosius, first in league with an army of Saxons and then, following his defeat, with Gillomanius, or Gillomaurius, king of Ireland. Pascent offers a fortune to anyone who will rid him of Ambrosius, and a Saxon called Eopa (or Eppa), takes on the task. Disguised as a doctor, he succeeds in gaining access to Ambrosius, who is lying ill at Winchester, and poisons him.
This version is totally adrift from that told in Nennius (§48) which states that Ambrosius was beneficent towards Pascent and made him king of Vortigern’s old territory. Nor is there any indication that Ambrosius was poisoned – Gildas would certainly have known if that were true, and used it as a further argument in his attack on his contemporaries.
What’s probably happened here is that Geoffrey (or Tysilio before him) has confused two Pascents. Pascent was also the name of the son of Urien of Rheged who, unlike Vortigern’s son, was a surly belligerent individual, remembered in the Welsh Triads as one of the “Three Arrogant Men” of Britain. Pascent ap Urien lived at the end of the sixth century, a hundred years after Vortigern. This explains not only the sudden shift in dates, and thus in the individuals, but in the locale of Geoffrey’s next chapter. Pascent almost certainly raised a mercenary army, which quite probably included Irish and Saxon troops, but whether or not he sponsored a plot to poison someone whom Geoffrey regarded as Ambrosius, we cannot say. It has all the trappings of folklore, as well as Geoffrey’s evident fondness for kings being poisoned.
It is always intriguing when Geoffrey drops real names into a story, as it implies a basis of truth. The name Eopa (variously spelled Eoppa, or Eobba) is known in historical documents as the father of Ida, the first Angle ruler of Bernicia, and thus ties in with our shift to the north. Since Ida’s reign began around 547 or later, Eopa’s heyday would have been in the 520s, again too late to have killed Ambrosius, but certainly contemporary with Dubricius and Samson. We can well believe that in the days of the Angle settlement of the north, a generation or two after Octa, Ida and his father would have been involved in many battles and dark deeds, possibly even in the murder (poison or otherwise) of one of the Men of the North.
Geoffrey tells us that Ambrosius’s death is marked by a comet called the “dragon star”, which is interpreted by Merlin as a good omen. Ambrosius’s brother Uther defeats and kills Pascent and Gillomanius. Returning to Winchester, he is appointed as successor to Ambrosius. He adopts as his emblem the sign of the dragon, fashioned in the style of the comet, and from then on is known as Uther Pendragon.
Comets were not unusual in the fifth and sixth centuries. Gary Kronk, in Cometography (1999), lists fifty known observations during that time, mostly by Chinese astronomers, and it is not certain how many of these were evident to observers in Britain. Those of 467 and 520 may have been. One in 530 was so bright it was called “the Firebrand” by Byzantine astronomers, a
nd is believed to have been a visitation by what we know as Halley’s Comet. Another, in 539, was so long and pointed it was nicknamed “the Swordfish”. A third, in 563, appeared during a total eclipse of the sun, and thus was visible during the day. Any of these may be Geoffrey’s “dragon star”, though there seem to be no records of any during the 470s and 480s, which is where we should be in Geoffrey’s timeline.
Following Ambrosius’s death, Octa believes he is now freed from his agreement. He raises an army, including the followers of Pascent and, with Eosa, lays waste to the north of Britain. Uther catches up with him at York, but the Saxon numbers are superior and the British are driven back to seek refuge in the foothills of Mount Damen, or Dannet. The likeliest survival of that name today is Damems, part of Keighley in Airedale. Damems is about forty miles from York, and so could be a day’s hard riding. However, a later variant version of the Historia, compiled by the Welsh monk Madoc around the year 1300, states that Mount Damen “is Wingates, above the head of Chochem”, presumably Windygates Hill in Northumberland, at the headwaters of the Coquet River. This is just north of the Roman fort of Bremenium at High Rochester, a very long way from York.
Advised by Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall, Uther attacks the Saxons at night. Surprised, they are defeated, and Octa and Eosa are taken as prisoners to London. Uther then tours Scotland, inspecting the damage caused by the Saxons. It is clear that Geoffrey has slipped ahead a century, and the story he is telling has nothing to do with Ambrosius or with Octa and Eosa. He has confused Octa’s and Eosa’s expedition with a much later battle for the north between the British and the Saxons, during the latter half of the sixth century.
Geoffrey is usually credited with “inventing” Uther. Certainly he made a major figure out of him, just as he did of Ambrosius, The name Uthr, or Uthyr Pendragon, does appear in other sources, albeit briefly. We’ve encountered one in the poem Pa Gur, which speaks of Mabon as the “servant of Uthr Pendragon”. Uther is also mentioned in one of the Welsh Triads, the “Three Great Enchantments”, which he is supposed to have taught to Menw ap Teirgwaedd. Menw, who appears as a shapechanger and magician in both Culhwch and Olwen and The Dream of Rhonabwy, is one of the “Three Enchanters” of Britain (Triad 27), and is arguably the prototype for Merlin. But for Menw to have learned an enchantment from Uther (rather than the other way round), suggests that Uther was of an older generation and very possibly regarded as something of a mage in his own right. Taliesin refers to Uther’s son Madog, noting that before his death Madog’s fortress was one of “abundance, exploits and jests”, almost like Arthur’s Camelot. Madog was in turn the father of the “golden-tongued knight” Eliwlod, who in another ancient poem speaks to Arthur from the grave in the form of an eagle.
Unfortunately, no surviving pedigree links Madog or Eliwlod with Arthur, even though they were his brother and nephew respectively. It suggests that Uther > Madog > Eliwlod existed independently as part of a much older tradition, and that Arthur was later grafted onto their stories, as he was onto so many hero tales.
Madog is a common Welsh name, and several Madogs appear in legend. According to one of the pedigrees Merlin, or more properly Myrddin, was the son of Madog Morfryn, himself the son of Morydd, a brother of Arthwys of the Pennines. Madog’s cousin was Eliffer of the Great Host, and the Latin for Eliffer is Eleutherius. It would be easy for these early pedigrees to have become confused, and for Madog to be treated as a son of Eleutherius. Madog’s position in the pedigrees is far from clear, and it’s entirely possible that he was one of Eliffer’s sons. Another, later pedigree of the princes of Powys (see Table 3.9) shows a Merin, son of Madog, who lived in the early seventh century. Geoffrey could have mis-copied Merin as Merlin.
Geoffrey may originally have got the name Uther from Maximus’s son Victor. Victor, in the sense of “victorious”, may be rendered as uabhar, which means “proud” in Gaelic and is related to aruthr, the Brythonic for “terrible”, as in a conqueror or tyrant. Geoffrey may also have made the leap to Eleutherius, which also means “famed” or “honoured”, as in victor.
Eliffer was credited in the Black Book of Carmarthen with having had seven sons. One of the Welsh Triads, “Three Fair Womb-Burdens”, refers to the triplets born to Eliffer’s wife: Gwrgi, Peredur and Arddun. Arddun (pronounced Arth-oon) was a girl, but a later translation of this triad, now held at Jesus College, Oxford, and quite possibly once accessible to Geoffrey, corrupts Arddun to Arthur. Geoffrey, ever able to make two and two equal five, no doubt discovered this identification of [Ele]Uther[ius] as the father of Arthur, and that was all he needed. In reality, Arddun (some records call her Ceindrech) was not the daughter of Eliffer (see Chapter 3), but of Pabo, Eliffer’s uncle.
Eliffer was justly famous in his day, as were his sons Gwrgi and Peredur, whose deaths in 581 were noted in the Welsh Annals. Eliffer is exactly contemporary with Dubricius and Samson, although it is unlikely their paths crossed as his domain was in York, the setting for so much of Geoffrey’s narrative. Eliffer’s reign, from the 530s to the 550s, would have been one constant battle against the Angles, under Eopa, and doubtless against his fellow British as each ruler sought to protect his own territory. Eliffer was, for a while, the most powerful ruler in Britain, and there is no doubt that there would have been a period during his reign when he worked through the north, quelling his rivals. He might also have become king in either 530 or 539 at the time of a comet perihelion.
Returning to Geoffrey’s narrative, we now enter familiar territory. After his tour of the north, Uther returns to London, and the following year holds a celebration of his victory, inviting all his nobles. These include Gorlois of Cornwall and his beautiful wife Ygerna, or Ygraine. Uther lusts after Ygerna and, affronted, Gorlois storms away from the festivities. Uther demands an apology, and when none is forthcoming, raises an army and ravages Cornwall. Gorlois’s army is too small to face Uther’s. He places Ygerna in safekeeping at Tintagel Castle and seeks refuge, with his army, at the hill-fort of Dimilioc. There still is a hill-fort and territory known as Domellic to the north of St Dennis in the middle of Cornwall. Another contender is the Tregeare Rounds, formerly called Castle Dameliock, an impressive earthwork near the hamlet of Pendoggett, just six miles southwest of Tintagel.
The siege of Dimilioc is deadlocked and Uther, pining for Ygerna, seeks the aid of Merlin. Merlin agrees to change the appearance of Uther into that of Gorlois so that he can gain access to Tintagel Castle. Uther/Gorlois is welcomed by Ygerna and taken to her bed, and that night Arthur is conceived. In the meantime, Uther’s men attack Dimilioc and manage to take the fort, killing Gorlois. They are perplexed when they travel to Tintagel and find a man whom they believe to be Gorlois there. Uther changes back to his own self, and returns to capture Tintagel and Ygerna. They marry and have two children, Arthur and Anna.
This whole episode appears as an aside in Geoffrey’s narrative, after which he returns to the story of Octa and Eosa. It was clearly drawn from a popular folk tale about Arthur rather than from any historical source. Geoffrey’s story now leaps ahead fifteen years. Anna is married to King Loth of Lodonesia, though she cannot have been more than fourteen. During these years, the soldiers who guarded Octa and Eosa set their captives free, fleeing with them to Germany. They raise an army and once more return to plunder and ravage the north. Loth is put in charge of the British forces. The war is long and protracted with no victory to either side. Uther is furious and, though now old and “half dead”, reprimands his nobles and leads his forces against the Saxons who are laying waste St Albans. In the ensuing battle, the British win and Octa and Eosa are killed. The Saxons retreat to the North and continue to harry the land. They send spies to watch Uther and, discovering his water supply, they poison it, thereby killing the king and hundreds of others.
6. Enter Arthur
Geoffrey places the showdown between Uther and the Saxons at St Albans. There is no specific historical reference to a battle here in the fifth century, but as we cons
idered earlier with Gildas’s De Excidio, St Albans, which remained a British enclave throughout the fifth century, was right on the edge of the division created post-Badon between the British and the Saxons, so would have been subject to periodic assaults from the Saxons. According to the ASC, Aesc/Octa died in 512, so in theory Geoffrey’s narrative has now reached this year although many of the British characters he refers to lived half-a-century or more later.
However, if we try to follow a time line for Geoffrey’s narrative we find we are much earlier, around the year 485. Our last “fixed” point was the death of Hengist around 457/460, the year of Ambrosius’s coronation. Ambrosius’s reign must have been long enough to see the start of a rebuilding programme, but unless Geoffrey has left out other detail, it cannot be much more than a decade, and we must presume in Geoffrey’s timeline that Ambrosius’s reign was over by the late 460s. Uther then quells the north, captures Octa and Eosa, and seduces Ygerna, suggesting that Arthur’s birth would be around 470. The deaths of Uther and Octa, fifteen years later, must be around 485. To push them as far as 512 would mean that Ambrosius’s reign lasted nearly forty years, and since Geoffrey places his birth at around 426, he would by then have been 84. Uther, who was Ambrosius’s younger brother and thus probably born around 428, would be nearly sixty in 485, which fits in with the narrative. However, this date is far too early for the death of Octa, which cannot be earlier than 512, and was most probably later. It is evident that Geoffrey’s narrative has now split into two overlapping timelines as he seeks to fit later events into his earlier chronology.
It is at this point (Book 9), that Geoffrey commences the story of King Arthur. This is the original story, not the legend we know from the French romances and Malory.
Geoffrey relates that with the death of Uther, the Saxons become more invasive. A new leader is appointed, Colgrin (or Colgrim), who, with his brother Baldulf, has brought more forces from Germany and is laying waste to the far north. An urgent response is required, and the nobles wish to appoint Uther’s son Arthur as their new king, even though he is only fifteen. He is crowned by Archbishop Dubricius at Silchester. Arthur promptly gathers together an army and marches on the Saxons at York, where Colgrim meets him with “a vast multitude”, a combined army of Saxons, Scots and Picts. Their first battle is “beside the River Douglas”, and the British are victorious. Colgrim flees, and Arthur pursues him to York and lays siege to the city. We have already discussed possible sites for these battles, derived from Nennius’s list. It is evident that Geoffrey believed the river Douglas was near York.