Arthur was loath to believe them, but in the end, he agreed. The next morning, he went hunting and sent word to the queen that he would be out all night. Agravaine and Mordred and twelve other knights who were jealous of Lancelot hid in a chamber next door to the queen’s apartments and waited for her lover to join her. Once he was inside the room, his enemies rushed to the door and cried out, “You traitor, Sir Lancelot, now you are taken! Come out of the queen’s chamber!”
Lancelot had no weapon but his sword, but he was determined not to be taken. He wrapped his cloak around his sword arm and called through the door, “Now, fair lords, leave your noise and your rushing, and I shall set open this door and then you may do with me what you like.” He then unbarred the door and opened it a crack so that only one man at a time might get through. The first who came was Sir Calogrenant of Gore, who struck at Lancelot with all his strength, but Lancelot deflected the blow with his thickly wrapped arm and knocked his opponent to the floor.
“Then Sir Lancelot with great might drew the knight within the chamber door, and with the help of the queen and her ladies, was armed in Calogrenant’s armor, and set open the chamber door and mightily strode in among the knights. And anon, at the first stroke he slew Sir Agravaine and anon, after, twelve of his fellows, for there was none of the twelve knights might stand Sir Lancelot one buffet. And also he wounded Sir Mordred, and therewithal Mordred fled with all his might . . . to King Arthur . . . wounded and all bloodied.
“‘Ah! Jesu, mercy! How may this be?’ said the king. ‘Took you him in the queen’s chamber?’
“‘Yea! So God me help!’ said Sir Mordred, ‘There we found him.’ And so he told the king from the beginning to the ending. . . .
“‘Alas,’ said the king, ‘now I am sure the noble fellowship of the Round Table is broken for ever.’”
Overwhelmed with grief, Arthur gave orders that the queen must be burned for treason in accordance with the laws of England. Gawain pleaded with his uncle not to do so, but Arthur would not listen. Gawain refused to be present, and the king commanded his younger brothers, Gaheris and Gareth, to escort the queen to the stake and witness her punishment. They were as reluctant as Gawain, but they were too young to disobey the king’s command. In token of their protest, however, they insisted on attending the queen to her execution unarmed.
Guinevere was led to the stake, outside the city of Carlisle, and a priest heard her confession. But just as the fire was about to be lit, Lancelot and a band of his compatriots galloped up, lashing out with their swords, striking to the ground all those who resisted them. “And in this rushing and hurling, as Sir Lancelot pressed hither and thither, it misfortuned him to slay Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth,” whom he did not recognize in the confusion. Then Lancelot cut Guinevere loose from her bonds and rode away with her to his castle, Joyous Garde, where his allies flocked to join him.
When Arthur heard the news and of the death of Gaheris and Gareth, he fainted. When he returned to consciousness, he began to mourn the loss of “the fairest fellowship of noble knights” that a “Christian king ever held together. Within these two days, I have lost nigh forty knights and also the noble fellowship of Sir Lancelot and his blood. And the death of Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth will cause the greatest mortal war that ever was, for I am sure that when their brother, Sir Gawain, knows thereof I shall never have rest of him till I have destroyed Sir Lancelot. And therefore, wit you well, my heart was never so sorry as it is now. And much more am I sorrier for my good knights’ loss than for the loss of my fair queen, for queens I might have enough, but such a fellowship of good knights shall never be together again.”
Arthur summoned his knights and laid siege to Lancelot in Joyous Garde. There were many battles, but in all Lancelot held back and would not fight his hardest, because he loved Arthur and had no heart to crush him. At last, the pope interceded to arrange a truce by which Arthur would forgive Guinevere and take her back. But Gawain would not allow the king to forgive Lancelot. Thus, Lancelot was banished to his kingdom of Benwick in France, and Arthur and Gawain crossed the Channel with 60,000 men to make war on him there.
In Arthur’s absence, Mordred, who had been appointed regent of England and guardian of Queen Guinevere, seized his chance to replace his father on the throne. He pretended that he had received a letter announcing Arthur’s death and called a parliament and had himself chosen king and crowned at Canterbury. Then he rode to Winchester and told Guinevere he would marry her.
But Guinevere fled to London and took up residence in the Tower of London, “and suddenly in all haste possible she stuffed it with all manner of victual, and well garnished it with men, and so kept it. Then Sir Mordred was passing wroth out of measure. And a short tale for to make, he went and laid a mighty siege about the Tower of London, and made many great assaults, and threw many great engines unto them and shot great guns.”
When news came that Arthur was returning home, Mordred had to lift the siege and make for Dover to oppose the landing of his father’s troops. At Dover, “there was much slaughter of gentle knights and many a bold baron was laid full low.” But both Arthur and Mordred survived to fight again, and on that day, there was “never seen a more dolefuller battle in no Christian land.” From morning until night, the fighting raged until 100,000 noble knights lay dead upon the field. “Then was King Arthur wroth out of measure when he saw his people so slain, and he looked about him and was aware where stood Sir Mordred leaning upon his sword among a great heap of dead men.”
Gripping his spear in both hands, he ran at Mordred, crying, “Traitor! Now is thy death day come!” He plunged his spear into Mordred’s stomach beneath the shield, and its point passed through Mordred’s body. Mortally wounded, Mordred raised his sword and struck his father so ferocious a blow upon the helmet that the steel edge cut through the visor and entered Arthur’s skull.
“And noble Arthur fell in a swoon to the earth, and there he swooned oftentimes.” Bedivere, the last of his knights still alive, although he, too, was grievously wounded, knelt down and held the king in his arms.
“My time passes fast, Sir Bedivere,” King Arthur said. “Take my good sword, Excalibur, and go with it to yonder water’s side and throw it into the water.”
Bedivere went to the lake and hurled Excalibur as far across the water as he could. As it fell, a hand came up to grasp it by the handle and waved it three times in farewell before taking it under the surface. Bedivere then took the king upon his back and carried him to the water’s edge, where a barge stood in which sat many fair ladies wearing black veils and weeping bitterly.
“Now put me into that barge,” said King Arthur, “For I must go into the . . . [veil] of Avalon to heal me of my grievous wound. And if thou hear nevermore of me, pray for my soul.” Sir Bedivere put the king down gently, laying his head upon the lap of one of the ladies, and the barge sailed into the mists, and King Arthur was heard of no more.
“Yet some men say in many parts of England King Arthur is not dead but had by the will of our Lord Jesus into another place. And men say that he shall come again and he shall win the Holy Cross. And many say this was inscribed upon the tomb: HIC IACET ARTHURUS, REX QUONDAM REXQUE FUTURUS. (Here lies King Arthur, the Once and Future King.)
The Holy Grail was introduced into the Arthurian legend by Chrétien de Troyes in the twelfth century, but it was French poet Robert de Boron who introduced the Grail as the chalice containing the blood of Christ crucified, which can only be looked upon by those free of sin. The Grail is often associated with the chalice passed during The Last Supper in the Gospel of Matthew; however, its only mention in the Bible is this passage: “And He took a cup and when He had given thanks He gave it to them saying ‘Drink this, all of you; for this is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I shall not drink again of the fruit of the vine until I drink it new with you in My Father’s kingdom.’”
According to some accounts, a place
of honor at Arthur’s Round Table was reserved for the knight who claimed the Holy Grail. Lancelot, because of his affair with Guinevere, was excluded. The quest fell to his son.
Galahad, though himself innocent, was born of deception. His mother, Elaine of Corbenic, was the daughter of King Pelles, also known as the Fisher King, the latest in a long line charged with keeping the Holy Grail. Infatuated with the White Knight upon his arrival in Camelot, Elaine plots to draw him to her bed. When she learns of his love for Guinevere, she enlists a servant girl to trick Lancelot into mistaking Elaine for his queen. The knight is plied with wine; meanwhile, Elaine steals a ring belonging to Guinevere and slips it on her own finger. That night, Galahad is conceived. When Guinevere discovers the affair, she shuns Lancelot, causing him to go insane with grief. Elaine finds the knight in her garden and, to cure his madness, has him gaze upon the Holy Grail through a veil. Returning to his senses, he and Elaine live for several years as man and wife. Galahad, reunited with his father as an adult, is knighted by Lancelot. At Camelot, the son takes the empty seat at the Round Table and soon after embarks on his quest.
Chivalry alone could not win the Grail; this was a spiritual quest. Galahad’s first test arrives in the form of a red sword, lodged in a slab of marble washed up on the shore of Camelot. The stone is inscribed: “Never shall man take me hence but only he by whose side I ought to hang; and he shall be the best knight of the world.” Lancelot refuses even to touch the sword’s hilt. Gawain, Arthur’s nephew, fails to budge it, and Lancelot warns that the sword will someday hurt him. But Galahad withdraws it easily. Armed only with this sword, Galahad sets out in search for the Grail. Five days into his journey, Galahad claims a shield – white with a red cross, painted with the blood of Joseph of Arimathea – which could only be carried by him.
Galahad’s Grail quest spans five years. At the same time, others among King Arthur’s knights set out on their own to claim the cup for themselves. Gawain hopes to find and accompany Galahad, but instead is joined by Gaheris and Yvain the Bastard.
Gawain and Galahad pass each other at the Castle of Maidens, where seven brothers held a number of women captive, and had slain many knights who had attempted to rescue them. Galahad fights the brothers, who, while fleeing the castle, encounter Gawain and his companions, and are killed. That night, a hermit rebukes Gawain for his excessive brutality and advises him to abandon his quest and return to Camelot. But Gawain, blinded by his ambition, and mystified so that he is unable to recognize his fellow knights of the Round Table, slays them one by one – eighteen in all, including Yvain. When he finds Galahad, the two no longer know each other. Striking with his red sword, Galahad strikes Gawain’s head, fulfilling Lancelot’s prophecy about the weapon.
Galahad meets every challenge on his Grail quest with ease. He dispatches every enemy and performs miracles, healing the sick and banishing demons. After five years of searching for the Grail castle, which magically never appears in the same place, he finds it. He enters the castle with two other knights, Perceval and Bors, who had stood up to their own trials and proven themselves worthy. The castle at Corbenic is familiar to both Perceval, who first glimpsed the Grail here during a Mass, and Galahad, whose grandfather Pelles was its king. After fulfilling another prophecy - mending a sword broken into two pieces - Galahad is entrusted with taking the Grail to the spiritual palace of Sarras. In the Grail, Galahad sees a vision of heaven and wishes for death so that he can enter that kingdom. His wish is granted, and he ascends to heaven along with the Grail, never to be seen again.
Since stories of the Holy Grail began circulating in the twelfth century, belief in its existence and curiosity about its whereabouts have never ceased. Several churches have claimed ownership of the Grail, but most historians agree it resides in the Holy Grail Chapel of the St. Mary of Valencia Cathedral in Spain. This chalice – a hemispherical cup of dark red agate, with a knobbed stem and two curved handles – is about seven inches tall, less than four inches in diameter, and is inscribed along its base in Arabic. In 1960, Spanish archaeologist Antonio Beltrán inspected the chalice, and determined that it was made between the fourth century B.C. and first century A.D. The Roman Catholic Church has embraced it as the Holy Grail; it has been the official chalice for many popes, as late as Pope Benedict XVI in 2006.
Others believe the Grail is guarded by an ancient order of protectors. Because of their prominence in the eleventh and twelfth centuries when the Grail stories emerged, many believe the Knights Templar are the guardians of the Grail. Among the most skilled fighting men of the Crusades, the Knights Templar were distinguished by their shields – white and emblazoned with a red cross, like that carried by Galahad in the Arthurian legend. The Knights’ disbandment in 1312 only fueled speculation and legends about their secret and most holy responsibility. Another legend holds that the Grail was returned to Camelot, and is buried deep in the spring at Glastonbury Hill, which in Arthur’s time was the monastery of Avalon.
These players and theories add richness, romance, and magic to the legend of Arthur told by Sir Thomas Malory. Based on earlier French romances, which were based on Geoffrey of Monmouth’s History of the Kings of Britain, which, in turn, was based on earlier records, legends, and oral traditions, the story is far removed from the harsh reality of the fifth century and from the threatened island of Britain in which the real Arthur was born.
Understanding Arthur requires an understanding of the politics and plights of fifth-century Britain.
The Roman Empire was disintegrating. For years, Rome had been defending its frontiers, which stretched some 10,000 miles, from the North Sea along the Rhine to the Danube to the shores of the Black Sea; and from Constantinople to the Strait of Gibraltar, then northward through Spain and Gaul to Britain. But the once-civilized and disciplined Roman way of life had become decadent. Rome’s emperors were merely puppets in the hands of their generals, who frequently assassinated them and took their places on the throne. The administration that had enabled the Roman government to keep control of an unwieldy conglomeration of nations and provinces had degenerated into a bureaucracy riddled with corruption. Trade declined as taxes increased. The Roman army, once noted for its legions of well-equipped soldiers, now consisted of troops of mercenaries, hired to defend the empire against steadily increasing pressure from other forces - Goths, Huns, Saxons, Vandals - moving southward and westward from Scandinavia, the lands around the Baltic, and the Russian steppes.
In 429, under the leadership of their cunning and ruthless King Gaiseric, a horde of Vandals poured out of Spain into Roman Africa, the main source of Rome’s corn supply and home of a prosperous civilization. They made their way along the North African coast, conquering and pillaging as they went, and in 439, captured Carthage, Rome’s great African seaport. Gaiseric built a huge pirate fleet, and using Carthage as their base; the Vandals began to ravage the Roman cities around the Mediterranean Sea and to threaten Rome itself.
Already endangered by hostile forces along its northern and eastern frontiers, Rome no longer could offer any protection to distant Britain. One legion after another was called back to fight Rome’s wars on the Continent until only a small garrison remained. By 410, most had withdrawn, and by the middle of the century, Roman power had effectively ended. The islanders were left to fend for themselves.
For almost a century, Britain had been under intermittent attack. From the north, fierce, tattooed Picts came down from the Caledonian mountains of Scotland. In the second century A.D., the Emperor Hadrian had built a wall from east to west between the River Tyne and the Solway Firth to keep the Picts out of the Romanized country farther south. But once the legions that had defended it were gone, the Picts clambered over the abandoned ramparts and swarmed south toward the Humber. The Picts were followed by the Scotti, marauders from Ireland, who sailed across the Irish Sea in their light skin-and-wood boats called currachs. They pillaged the western coasts of England and Wales, terrifying the fishermen and farmers, spea
ring and stabbing those who could not escape, and setting fire to their thatched-roof huts. The Saxons were more aggressive than either the Picts or the Irish war bands.
The people commanded expanding nations that were no longer content with their restricted farmlands on the Continental mainland. As Roman power declined in Britain, they began to look west for a richer land on which to settle. They crossed the North Sea in long, shallow-draught galleys constructed of overlapping oak planks, curved up at either end, and rowed by a score of warriors. They preferred long hair and beards, wore thick shirts and trousers, and cloaks to which skins were sewn to give them extra warmth when they were used as blankets at night. As well as their seax, or short-swords, they carried thick, iron-spiked spears, battle-axes, and round wooden shields covered with hide. Few of them wore helmets. They were ruthless, violent men, and all along the southern and eastern coasts of Britain, they pillaged and looted, raped and murdered, burning farms, killing livestock, then sailing home.
Late-fourth-century Britain was still one of the most pleasant provinces of the Western Roman Empire, though no longer as prosperous as it had been. The rolling plains of the south and west were dotted with the stucco-and-brick villas of gentlemen-farmers - although many had been abandoned, their brightly painted walls crumbling into ruins. In winter, the well-furnished rooms of these villas had been warmed by heated flues that ran beneath their mosaic floors; in summer, fountains played in the courtyards and grapevines grew against garden walls. Outside their gates, roads still led to the towns that had been Rome’s chief contribution to the British way of life - towns whose paved streets and imposing buildings were constructed in the regular, rectilinear manner favored by the architects of the eternal city.
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