by Mike Ashley
3. Rebuilding Arthur
The composite Arthur had been created, and continued to grow. It ought to be possible to show how this recomposition took place. I’ve already covered much of this above, so let’s summarise it here. At this stage I am talking only about the Arthur from the Mabinogion and Geoffrey’s History, and not the later Arthur of the romances, which is a whole other story. The suggestions included here are hypothetical but all are based on clear deductions made throughout this book.
Table 10.1. The Composite Arthur
Story as per Nennius, Geoffrey, etc.
Possible original historical episode
Uther disguised as Gorlois seduces Ygerna (Geoffrey, viii.19)
None. Pure legend, possibly based on the Irish legend of Manannan ap Lir’s seduction of the wife of Fiachna and the birth of Mongan. The character of Uther as Arthur’s father may be influenced by Eliffer/ Eleutherius of the North.
Arthur ascends throne at age of 15, Dubricius (Geoffrey, ix.1)
Both Artúir mac Aedan and Athrwys ap Meurig crowned by may have been inaugurated into a command around age 15, Artúir as Wledig under Aedan and Athrwys as sub-king of Ergyng. However, probably the only ones who could have been inaugurated by Dubricius were Cadell or Riocatus.
Arthur’s battle campaign against the Saxons (Nennius §56; Geoffrey ix.1–3)
Most recently Athrwys ap Meurig’s involvement with Penda against Edwin but influenced by the campaign of Vortipor/Cadell/Riocatus in the fifth century and that by Arthwys ap Mar and Eliffer, plus Urien of Rheged against the Angles or Aedan and Artúir against the Picts and Angles. Possible influence by later campaigns of Alfred and Athelstan against the Danes.
Battle of Badon (Gildas §26; Nennius §56; Geoffrey ix.4)
Most recently Athrwys ap Meurig at Tintern, but originally the confederate kings under Aircol with Arthwys ap Mar’s victory at either Breidden Hill (or the Wrekin) or Liddington Castle.
Arthur’s follow-up campaign against Irish, Picts, Islay (Man?) and Orkneys (Geoffrey ix.5–10)
Aedan mac Gabhran’s campaign in which Artúir mac Aedan was probably involved. May also be influenced by Athelstan’s battle against the Scots.
Arthur’s twelve years of peace (Geoffrey ix.11) More likely a generation of peace.
Followed Gwent’s victory over Saxons at Tintern, but originally the victory by Aircol’s alliance and Arthwys at Badon.
Hunt of the boar Trwyth (Culhwch and Olwen)
Dyfed episode drawn from Vortipor’s or Artúir of Dyfed’s battles against Irish raiders; Gwent episode probably based on Athrwys ap Meurig’s forays against Saxons, or an earlier campaign to push Gewisse out of Ergyng.
Arthur’s campaign against “Norway” and Gaul (Geoffrey ix.11)
Trigger for “Norway” was Athelstan’s campaign at York and for Gaul was empire building by Henry I; Gaul’s seed may have been influenced by Lucius Artorius Castus’s campaign in Brittany, and possibly by Magnus Maximus’s imperial campaign, but also merged with tales of Clovis and Ferreolus.
Arthur’s special coronation (Geoffrey ix.12–13)
Probably invented by Geoffrey based on coronation of Norman kings, especially Stephen’s, which he probably witnessed. But may have drawn origin from special coronation of Edgar at Bath in 973 or Offa’s special ceremony in 787.
Arthur’s campaign against Rome (Geoffrey ix.14–x.13)
Immediate trigger was excommunication of Henry I, but probably drew upon the imperial campaigns of Magnus Maximus and Constantine.
Treachery of Mordred (Geoffrey xi.l)
May have been premature death of Athwrys ap Meurig caused by involvement with his second cousin Medraut. Earlier betrayals, such as Urien’s by Morcant, may also have influenced.
Battle of Camlann (Geoffrey xi.2)
We do not know where Athwrys ap Meurig died and there might well once have been a Camlann in Gwent. Otherwise may have been influenced by death of Artúir mac Aedan at Camboglanna, the possible death of Vortipor or Artúir of Dyfed at Camlan, or the slaying of Arthwys ap Mar, maybe also at Camboglanna.
SECTION 2
THE LEGEND GROWS
11
ARTHUR’S BONES
The success of Geoffrey’s story about King Arthur is only too evident. Not only was his manuscript issued in thousands of copies – at least 200 survive to this day – but it created the Arthurian legend. The next chapters explore the many Arthurian tales that appeared between Geoffrey’s Historia and the work we most associate with Arthur today, Malory’s Mort Darthur. But first, we should look at one other feature created by Geoffrey’s book that also survives to this day – the tourist industry.
Of the places most closely associated with Arthur in Britain, two stand out – Tintagel and Glastonbury. Ironically, they are the two with the least evidence of an Arthurian connection, and although Geoffrey placed Arthur’s birth at Tintagel, he made no reference at all to Glastonbury. Arthur was taken to the Isle of Avalon after Camlann, and Geoffrey did not say where that was. All that changed in 1191, when some monks found the bones of Arthur.
Giraldus Cambrensis, or Gerald of Wales, is our source for this. He was purportedly a witness at the exhumation, although before we reveal his findings we need to consider how the exhumation came about.
Glastonbury Abbey had suffered greatly in a fire in 1184. During the late Saxon period, especially under the abbacies of Dunstan (942–955) and Athelwold (955–963), it was one of the great abbeys and schools of England. A monastic settlement had existed here since the late sixth century – Gildas was supposed to have been associated with it. For a period after the Norman Conquest, the abbey lacked support and fell into disrepair. Much renovation, however, was carried out during the long abbacy of Henri de Blois (1126–1171), the brother of King Stephen, who was also Bishop of Winchester. Henri was known for his love of luxury, being perhaps the richest man in England, and although much of the building work enhanced the abbey’s status, it also enhanced his comfort.
Within thirteen years of Henri’s death, however, most of this improvement was lost through the great fire, including the library and its many rare books. Rebuilding work began immediately. Funds were forthcoming with royal patronage from Henry II.
Both Henry II and his queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine, were fascinated by the Arthurian legends. Their grandson, the future Duke of Brittany, was named Arthur when he was born on 29 March 1187. Arthur was next in line to the throne after Richard (who became Richard I in 1189 on Henry’s death), and should rightfully have become king of England when Richard died on 6 April 1199, but his uncle John saw to it that Arthur would never succeed.
According to Gerald, Henry II had learned that the body of King Arthur was buried at Glastonbury. Even more, he was told they would find the body between two ancient tall pyramids in the abbey burial grounds. Henry had been told this by “some old British soothsayer”, who may have been Welsh or Breton. We don’t know when he learned of this, but it must have been late in his life, and probably around the time that Arthur was born. Henry is supposed to have passed word on to the abbot, but that cannot be so. At that time Glastonbury had no abbot. The post had not been filled after the last abbot, Robert of Winchester, died in 1178. Henry was more interested in appropriating the abbey revenues himself to finance his wars in France. He installed a friend, Peter de Marcy, to look after affairs, and this led to a major crisis within the abbey. In fact, it was under de Marcy that the great fire happened, and the circumstances behind it have never satisfactorily been resolved. De Marcy died soon afterwards.
Henry did not replace de Marcy, and instead put his Chief Justiciar, Ranulf de Glanville, in charge of the finances and of overseeing the rebuilding works. Henry may have told Ranulf about the possible burial place of Arthur – Ranulf was, after all, executor of Henry’s will – but nothing seems to have happened before the King’s death in July 1189. One might have thought that had Henry and Ranulf known about it, a search for the grave would have
happened straightaway. Yet building works had been in hand for five years and it was not until early in 1191, eighteen months after Henry’s death, that the search began.
In that time a lot had happened. After Henry’s death his son Richard had no interest in Glastonbury other than its revenues to help finance his Crusade. He appointed an old friend, Henry de Sully, who had been abbot of Fécamp in Normandy, and who had been in charge of the rebuilding works there after that abbey had been destroyed by fire. De Sully had managed to turn Fécamp Abbey, with its precious relics, including the blood of Christ and a bone from the arm of Mary Magdalene, into one of the major centres of pilgrimage in Normandy.
Could he do the same for Glastonbury? Indeed he could. It was de Sully who ordered that the excavation be made for Arthur’s body and it was he who selected the site, telling Gerald of Wales that he had learned this from the King himself. This was how Gerald reported the discovery in Liber de Principis Instructione (“On the Instruction of Princes”), which appeared two years later, in 1193.
In our own lifetime Arthur’s body was discovered at Glastonbury. Although legends had fabricated something fantastical about his demise (that he had not suffered death, and was conveyed, as if by a spirit, to a distant place), his body was discovered at Glastonbury, in our own times, hidden very deep in the earth in an oak-hollow, between two stone pyramids that were erected long ago in that holy place. The tomb was sealed up with astonishing tokens, like some sort of miracle. The body was then conveyed into the church with honour, and properly committed to a marble tomb. A lead cross was placed under the stone, not above as is usual in our times, but instead fastened to the underside. I have seen this cross, and have traced the engraved letters, which were cut into it on the side turned inwards toward the stone, instead of facing outward and being visible. It read:
HERE LIES ENTOMBED KING ARTHUR, WITH GUENEVERE HIS SECOND WIFE, ON THE ISLE OF AVALON.
Many remarkable things come to mind regarding this discovery. For instance, he had two wives, of whom the last was buried with him. Her bones were discovered with those of her husband, though separated in such a way that two-thirds of the sepulchre, namely the part nearer the top, was believed to contain the bones of the husband, and then one-third, toward the bottom, separately contained the bones of his wife, wherein was also discovered a yellow lock of feminine hair, entirely intact and pristine in colour, which a certain monk eagerly seized in hand and lifted out; immediately the whole thing crumbled to dust.
There had been some evidence from the records that the body might be found there, and some from the lettering carved on the pyramids (although that was mostly obliterated by excessive antiquity), and also some that came from the visions and revelations made by good men and the devout. But the clearest evidence came when King Henry II of England explained the whole matter to the monks (as he had heard it from an aged British soothsayer): how they would find the body deep down, namely more than 16 feet into the earth, and not in a stone coffin but in a hollowed oak bole. The body had been placed so deep, and was so well concealed, that it could not be found by the Saxons who conquered the island after the king’s death and whom he had battled with so much exertion while he was alive, and had nearly annihilated. That was why the lettering on the cross, which confirmed the truth, had been inscribed on the reverse side, turned toward the stone, so that it would conceal the secret of the coffin at that time and yet at some opportune moment or time, would ultimately reveal what it contained.
It should be noted also that the bones of Arthur’s body that they discovered were so large that the poet’s words seem to ring true: “Bones excavated from tombs are reckoned enormous.” Indeed, his shin-bone, which the abbot showed to me, was placed near the shin of the tallest man of the region; then it was fixed to the ground against the man’s foot, and it extended substantially more than three inches above his knee. And the skull was broad and huge, as if he were a monster or prodigy, to the extent that the space between the eyebrows and the eye-sockets amply encompassed the breadth of one’s palm. Moreover, ten or more wounds were visible on that skull, all of which had healed into scars except one, greater than the rest, which had made a large cleft – this seems to have been the fatal one.
Gerald’s description is detailed, as if he had been present, although some of the comments such as “his shin-bone, which the abbot showed to me”, suggests that he had not seen the actual exhumation. In all likelihood Gerald visited Glastonbury afterwards, and his report was part of the “promotion” for the discovery.
The immediate question, though, is: how genuine was the discovery? Gerald’s role in this is suspicious in itself, although whether he was part of the scheme or an innocent dupe is uncertain. In introducing the above item he said:
The memory of Arthur, the celebrated king of the Britons, should not be concealed. In his age, he was a distinguished patron, a generous donor, and a splendid supporter of the renowned monastery of Glastonbury; they praise him greatly in their annals. More than all other churches of his realm he prized the Glastonbury church of Holy Mary, mother of God, and sponsored it with greater devotion by far than he did the rest.
Where did Gerald get the information that Arthur was a noted patron of Glastonbury and mentioned in their annals? Some sixty years before this discovery, William of Malmesbury had been invited to Glastonbury to write a history of the abbey. A highly respected historian, Malmesbury had completed his own history of Britain, Gesta Regum Anglorum (“Acts of the English Kings”), in 1125, ten years before Geoffrey. Malmesbury, who had already had access to Glastonbury’s archives when he completed that book, had written, “the tomb of Arthur is nowhere beheld, when the ancient ditties fable that he is yet to come.” His De Antiquitate Glastoniensis Ecclesiæ (“On the Antiquity of the Church at Glastonbury”) specifically mentions the Annals at Glastonbury but makes no mention of Arthur. In fact, no one had made any link between Arthur and Glastonbury until Geoffrey’s colleague Caradog of Llancarfan wrote his Life of Gildas in the 1130s. In it he tells the story of Melwas, the king of the “summer country” who kidnapped Guenevere and held her at Glastonbury (presumably on the Tor). Arthur searched for her for a year before he learned of her whereabouts, whereupon he summoned up an army. Gildas and the abbot of Glastonbury intervened and Guenevere was restored to Arthur.
Malmesbury, though, had found no such references in his research. Neither, for that matter, had Abbot Dunstan, when he carried out major building works two centuries earlier. Even Geoffrey, never one to miss a trick, had made no reference to Glastonbury. He simply said that after Camlann Arthur was taken to the Isle of Avalon. Gerald of Wales, though, had something to say on that:
What is now called Glastonbury was, in antiquity, called the Isle of Avalon; it is like an island because it is entirely hemmed in by swamps. In Welsh it is called Inis Avallon, that is, insula pomifera, “The Island of Apples”, because the apple, which is called aval in the Welsh tongue, was once abundant in that place. After the Battle of Camlann, Morgan, a noble matron, mistress and patroness of those regions, and also King Arthur’s kinswoman by blood, brought Arthur to the island now called Glastonbury for the healing of his wounds. Moreover, the island had once been called in Welsh Inis Gutrin, that is, insula vitrea, “The Island of Glass”, and from this name, the invading Saxons afterwards called this place Glastingeburi, for glas in their language means vitrum or “glass”, and buri means castrum, “castle” or civitas, “city”.
No one before Gerald had suggested that Avalon was Glastonbury. He could only have got that idea from the abbot. Was Gerald in on the scheme? He was certainly a high flier. Born in 1145, he was the son of a Norman knight, Sir William de Barri. His mother Angharad was the granddaughter of Rhys ap Tewdwr, king of Deheubarth (1078–1093), through his daughter Princess Nesta, who was a mistress of Henry I. Nesta was notorious for her love life, and in 1109 was abducted by Owain ap Cadwgan, the hothead prince of Powys, causing a major political row between Henry and Owain’s f
ather. This could even have been the incident that inspired Caradog’s story of the abduction of Guenevere.
Gerald believed he was destined for great things. Most of all he wanted to be made bishop of St. David’s, in order to petition the Pope to raise the see to an Archbishopric and thus be independent of Canterbury. He was nominated for the post in 1176 but turned down by Henry II because of his Welsh blood. He refused two other bishoprics before he became involved at Glastonbury. One might suspect that Gerald was now seeking to ingratiate himself with Richard I. Unfortunately he never did achieve his goal, though he spent a lifetime trying. On the other hand, Henry de Sully rapidly received promotion, being elevated to the Bishopric of Worcester just a couple of years after his remarkable discovery at Glastonbury.
Aside from the fact that neither Dunstan nor Malmesbury had found any evidence of an Arthurian connection with Glastonbury – and they had access to the original documents before the fire – there are all manner of clues that show this to be one big hoax. The dimensions of the skull, for instance, particularly the distance between the eyes, is humanly impossible. The Latin lettering engraved on the cross was not contemporary with Arthur’s day but was closer to the tenth or eleventh century. Some, including Leslie Alcock, have suggested that this may have been carried out in Dunstan’s day when a mausoleum, known to have been on this same site, was demolished. Perhaps that had made reference to Arthur, and in order to salvage this a new cross was made. Unfortunately no record of this exists – and Malmesbury would have found it if it had. It is also hard to believe that Dunstan would not have made a more overt reference to this as by his day the legend of Arthur was already well known.