by Mike Ashley
If we assume, for the moment, that the dates in both chronicles are correct, then we can see that at the time of the Battle of Badon in 518 Cerdic was in the thick of his conquest of what would become Wessex, establishing himself as king the following year, in 519. These two records raise a serious question. Arthurian legend has it that Arthur’s victory at Badon was so complete that the Saxons had to retreat and that for at least twenty-five years there was a relative peace. The ASC does show this to some extent. We get a significant increase in the West Saxon offensive from 552 onwards, and arguably from 547 if Ida’s rise to power also involved conflict, though this was in the North. There is a gap of around thirty years in which the ASC records no Saxon conquest except for the exploits of Cerdic.
Cerdic is one of those fascinating enigmas. His name is not Saxon but British, the same as Caradoc or Ceretic. Because of this he is regarded as possibly a renegade British chieftain who might have fought against Arthur, perhaps with Saxon mercenaries. Alternatively, if he came to power after Badon, he might previously have fought on Arthur’s side and benefited subsequently with lands in Wiltshire. Some even go so far as to suggest that Cerdic was Arthur. I won’t go that far, but he is crucial to fixing a date for Arthur’s life.
If we look closer, the entries relating to Cerdic raise further questions. The entry for 495 seems to duplicate that of 514, except that Cerdic and Cynric have become Stuf and Wihtgar. 501 also appears to be a repetition of the same event, whilst 501 and 508 also have some elements in common – the “very noble young Briton” of 501 might be the same as the Natanleod of 508.
It’s as if there were a standard story, known to all West Saxons: that the founder of their kingdom had arrived with his son and fought against the British, and that places involved with that arrival and battle are named after them.
If we look elsewhere in the ASC we find two further pieces of information that help us unravel this. Not surprisingly for a Chronicle brought together at the time of Alfred the Great, the ASC includes a genealogy of Alfred. Manuscript A incorporated this in a “Preface”, which begins by saying:
In the year when 494 winters had passed since Christ’s birth, Cerdic and Cynric his son landed at Cerdices ora with five ships. [. . .] And 6 years after they landed, they conquered the West Saxons’ kingdom; and these were the first kings who conquered the West Saxons’ land from the Britons. And he held the kingdom 16 years, and then when he departed his son Cynric succeeded to the kingdom and held it 26 years . . .
The other surviving manuscripts for the ASC place this note under the year 855, and insert the name Creoda between Cerdic and Cynric.
This Preface tells us that Cerdic arrived “after 494 winters” [the year 495], took six years to attain the kingdom and then ruled for 16 years, which brings his death to the year 517 – just before (maybe even at) the Battle of Badon. But let’s not jump to conclusions. In the Introduction I discuss the problems faced by annalists copying from old records in which entries may be grouped by the Easter cycle, which repeats itself every nineteen years.
If we look again at the near-duplicate entries for 495 and 514, we find that these are nineteen years apart. The “Preface” to the ASC notes that Cerdic “obtained the kingdom after six years”. 519 is the sixth year after 514 (if you count the years as inclusive), and the adjacent entries between 495 and 501 and 508 and 514 are also six years apart. There is a pattern here, suggesting that the annalists knew certain time spans and perhaps an end date, but did not quite know how to get there. Entries thus became duplicated.
The problem we have is determining which dates are correct. We cannot know, because the only way we can verify it is to rely further on the dates within the ASC. If, for the moment, we accept that the dates closer in time to the final compilation of the ASC are more likely to be accurate, particularly in relation to the length of reigns of the later rulers, then we can work backwards. The “Preface” lists the rulers and years down to King Aethelwulf. His father Egbert died in 839, a date well attested by other documents. If we add up the total lengths of the reigns of all the West Saxon kings from the start of Cerdic’s to the end of Egbert’s, we get 310 years. Deducting this from 839 gives 529 as the start of Cerdic’s reign. This clearly contradicts the entry for 534 which records Cerdic’s death after, we are told, a reign of 16 years.
This total of 310 years does not include Creoda, who is not otherwise mentioned. However, the ASC also gives two different reign lengths – 17 years or 30 – for Cerdic’s grandson Ceawlin. The missing 13 years could belong to Creoda without disrupting the grand total.
At present, therefore, we have three possible dates for Cerdic’s reign. The Preface states 501–517, the individual entries support 519–534, whilst the total reign lengths give 529–545. Table 3.11, based on the pedigrees, supports a later date, suggesting a death around 550.
It is important to confirm Cerdic’s reign because of its implications for Arthurian history, but how do we resolve this problem? Various people have tackled the matter. In The Historic King Arthur Frank D. Reno undertook an exercise similar to mine, but added Creoda’s reign, allocating him 17 years (on the basis that Creoda’s reign is wrongly assigned to Ceawlin) and resolving some other anomalies. He determined that the Preface dates of 500–516 were accurate. In “The West Saxon Genealogical Regnal List” (1985), the most detailed study of this issue, David Dumville analysed all the surviving documents of the ASC and other supporting data and concluded that the West Saxon regnal list had been corrupted with the purpose of pushing back the founding of the West Saxon line as far as possible. He believes that the annalists compiling the ASC in Alfred’s time recognised this but could do little about it, so fudged the issue, which is why so many contradictions arise. He produced his version of the regnal list which has Cerdic’s reign starting in 538, a date that I also used when I compiled my Mammoth Book of British Kings & Queens though, curiously, I arrived at it by a different method based on the Easter cycle (two cycles of 19 years from 500). This agrees with Table 3.11. It also means that if the Welsh Annals’ date for Camlann is correct then Cerdic may have benefited from the death of Arthur. This date would support a period of peace during Arthur’s reign – a Pax Arthuriana – and may therefore suggest an end-date of 538/9. We need other evidence to confirm this, but it’s something to orientate upon.
So, setting dates aside for the present, let us reflect on what the ASC tells us. We learn that the Britons first appealed to Rome for help against the Picts, and, when that was not forthcoming, turned to the Angles for help. There seems to be a distinction between this first appeal and that of Vortigern six years later, though this frequent leaping of six years is further evidence of uncertainty. Following Vortigern’s invitation, the Angles arrived, led by Hengist and Horsa, and in payment for fighting the Picts Vortigern gave them land in the “south-east”. This is usually interpreted as being in Kent, more specifically the Isle of Thanet, but this is not necessarily accurate. I explore this in more detail in Chapter 6.
Hengist and Horsa were successful and brought more mercenaries over, comprising Saxons, Angles and Jutes. Trouble brewed, Hengist and Horsa fought against Vortigern, and the British were defeated, fleeing to Lundenbyrg (usually interpreted as London but more on that later). A series of conflicts now occurred, spread over several years, whilst further waves of Saxons arrived, including those led by Aelle and Cerdic. The Saxon victories were not decisive and, as mentioned above, apart from the Cerdic anomaly, the Saxons made no further significant advances until after 547, but from then on the writing was on the wall, especially following the victories of 571, 577 and 584. It is evident from this that Arthur’s victorious days must have been before 547, to allow for his 21 years (or more) of peace. Even though these dates remain suspect, they do not contradict the Welsh Annals’ dates of 518 for Badon and 539 for Camlann. In fact they fit into the sequence rather neatly, especially if we have resolved the Cerdic question.
One other date from this per
iod is worthy of further thought. The entry for 540 refers to the sun growing dark, as does the entry for 538. These could simply refer to solar eclipses. Chroniclers frequently record eclipses and they are very useful for confirming dates, as eclipses can be precisely calculated. However, research has shown that these records refer to something far more significant. David Keys, in Catastrophe, has demonstrated that the decade starting in 535 saw the consequences of a worldwide catastrophe, with cold summers, freezing winters, crop failures and plague. It is recorded in virtually every ancient civilization. He believes the cause was a volcanic eruption in 535, pointing the finger at Krakatoa. Mike Baillie, however, in Exodus to Arthur, is more convinced that the disaster arose following a near collision with a comet, resulting in cometary debris in the atmosphere.
Whatever the cause, it remains clear that there was a major catastrophe, maybe two, that led to a decade or more of suffering, a scenario which sounds remarkably like the Waste Land of Arthurian legend. Moreover, Keys notes that “great natural catastrophes often induce political instability, administrative dislocation and the consequential collapse of regular record keeping in affected societies.” Be it a comet or volcano, it could well have been a disaster such as this that tipped the balance in Britain after 540, with the battle-hardened Saxons taking the upper hand, being better able to endure the plague and pestilence than the now weakened Romano-British.
A period for Arthur’s “reign” between 516 and 539 seems to be appearing, but we have a long way to go, and the comparative simplicity of the above is about to become very complicated.
5
GILDAS – THE MAN WHO KNEW ARTHUR
1. Gildas
We have already encountered Gildas via the Welsh Annals. The year 565 lists his voyage to Ireland and his death is recorded under the year 572. Whether these dates are correct is something we’ll need to consider. Gildas’s writings are perhaps the most important in relation to the authenticity of Arthur, and yet they are annoyingly vague and obtuse.
We know few genuine facts about Gildas. His life became the subject of two books, one by a monk of Rhuys in Brittany, where Gildas is believed to have died, and another by Caradog of Llancarfan. The first was written at least five hundred years after Gildas’s death and the second another sixty years or so after that. What’s more, Caradog was a close friend of Geoffrey of Monmouth, so the fact that Arthur features prominently in Caradog’s Life of Gildas and not once in the earlier biography, speaks for itself.
The two biographies have only a few events in common. According to these sources, Gildas was born in Alclud (Dumbarton), one of the many children of Caw or Caius, who was probably a Romano-British official. When he was born is crucial, in fact the most important date in all Arthurian studies as we shall see. In his youth in south Wales, Gildas studied under Illtud, whom legend makes a cousin of King Arthur. Gildas also studied in Ireland. According to Caradog, while Gildas was in Ireland several of his brothers rebelled against Arthur. During the confrontation, Arthur killed one of the brothers, Huail, leading to a rift between Arthur and Gildas, although they later made peace. Later, Gildas apparently travelled to Rome, and lived in Brittany for several years where he probably died.
The many tales about Gildas have led some to believe that there were at least two people of this name, Gildas son of Caw, and the Gildas who wrote De Excidio Britanniae (The Ruin of Britain), but this only confuses the issue. It may, though, explain why the Welsh Annals chose to describe him as Gildas the Wise, as if to distinguish him from another, but we may simply accept that as an endearment written by one who knew him.
What makes Gildas important is that his writings, principally De Excidio, are the only works that survive from the sixth century, providing a first-hand witness to the events of the preceding fifty years, the period, if the Welsh Annals are correct, when Arthur was alive. In other words, here is a book by someone who would certainly have known Arthur, or known of him. However, Gildas chose not to write about Arthur. And although his work does include a history of Britain, it was not Gildas’s intention to write a history. De Excidio takes the form of a very long letter, most of which is filled with complaints about the church and about the wicked rulers of Britain. Gildas believed that the fate of Britain at the hands of the Saxons was directly due to the corruptness of the British, their laziness and inability to fight for themselves. It was a sentiment picked up by the ASC, which refers to the “worthlessness of the Britons” (year 449). Gildas was thus something of a Jeremiah, bewailing the fate of the British, and quoting events and scriptures as appropriate to make his case. He worries little about dates or historical characters, which is what makes his De Excidio so infuriating. Here was the one man who could have told us exactly what happened, but instead he chose to moan – probably from the safety of Brittany – about the corruptness of the British.
2. De Excidio
Despite his moaning, as the lone voice from that time we must pay attention to what he says. I won’t quote De Excidio in full, but will refer to the relevant sections set after the fall of Roman authority in Britain and will also quote his complaints against the British kings who were his contemporaries. Hidden in the following should be further clues about Arthur, provided we can find them.
In Sections (§) 18 and 19 Gildas provides a graphic picture of the horrors of Britain after the Romans left. He gives the impression that before the Romans departed they did what they could to improve the island’s defences and train the people. He seems to believe that the Wall (presumably Hadrian’s) was built at this time, rather than nearly 300 years earlier, which shows how poor the surviving records in Britain were. He may be recounting a memory of the strengthening of the Wall during the fourth-century struggle with the Picts. He also refers to the Saxon shore defensive forts, and he may be remembering other defences built at this time, such as the Wansdyke in Somerset and Wiltshire, which dates from the mid fifth century.
He tells us that the British forces were “too lazy to fight and too unwieldy to flee.” The men were apparently “foolish and frightened,” and they “sat about day and night rotting away in their folly.” Leaving aside Gildas’s hyperbole, his comments could support the problem Germanus had faced of a wealthy country where the people were unprepared for the horrors to come. And come they did. He talks of the “foul hordes” of Scots and Picts who massacred the British. Death was apparently preferable to the “miserable fate” (possibly slavery) of those that were snatched away. A few years later (probably in the 440s, though some say the 470s), St Patrick wrote to Ceretic (usually treated as the ruler of Alclud), complaining about the slave trade between Ireland and Britain, which had clearly been prevalent for many years.
At the end of §19 Gildas tells us:1
Our citizens abandoned the towns and the high wall. Once again they had to flee; once again they were scattered, more irretrievably than usual; once again there were enemy assaults and massacres more cruel. The pitiable citizens were torn apart by their foe like lambs by the butcher; their life became like that of beasts of the field. For they resorted to looting each other, there being only a tiny amount of food to give brief sustenance to the wretched people; and the disasters from abroad were increased by internal disorders, for as a result of constant devastations of this kind the whole region came to lack the staff of food, apart from any such comfort as the art of the huntsman could procure for them.
§ 20. So the miserable remnants sent off a letter again, this time to the Roman commander Agitius, in the following terms: “To Agitius, thrice consul: the groans of the British.” Later came this complaint: “The barbarians push us back to the sea, the sea pushes us back to the barbarians; between these two kinds of death we are either drowned or slaughtered.” But they got no help in return. Meanwhile, as the British feebly wandered, a dreadful and notorious famine gripped them, forcing many of them to give in without delay to their bloody plunderers, merely to get a scrap of food to revive them. Not so others: they kept fighting back,
basing themselves on the mountains, in caves, heaths and thorny thickets. Their enemies had been plundering their land for many years: now for the first time they inflicted a massacre on them, trusting not in man but in God, for, as Philo says, “when human help fails, we need the help of God.” For a little while their enemies’ audacity ceased, but not our people’s wickedness. The enemy retreated from the people, but the people did not retreat from their own sins.
§ 21. It was always true of this people that it was weak in beating off the weapons of the enemy but strong in putting up with civil war and the burden of sin: weak, I repeat, in following the banners of peace and truth, but strong for crime and falsehood. So the impudent Irish pirates returned home (though they were shortly to return); and for the first time the Picts in the far end of the island kept quiet from now on, though they occasionally carried out devastating raids or plunder. So, in this period of truce the desolate people found their cruel scars healing over. But a new and more virulent famine was quietly sprouting. In the respite from devastation the island was so flooded with abundance of goods that no previous age had known the like of it. Alongside there grew luxury. It grew with a vigorous growth, so that to that time were fitly applied the words: “There are actually reports of such fornication as is not known even among the Gentiles.”
Up until now Gildas has only been telling us about the onslaught of the Picts and Scots, and that after an appeal to Rome, which brought no help, some of the British fought back. They inflicted such a “massacre” that there was a respite. The Picts and Irish went “home”. Now Britain prospered, and there was an abundance of wealth, as Germanus witnessed. But with it came civil war:
