The Mammoth Book of King Arthur (40 page)

We can also test it against Cerdic’s ancestry. Amongst Cerdic’s ancestors are Freawine and his son Wig, and both also feature in the life of Wermund as told by
Saxo Grammaticus. From this we may calculate Wig’s mid-life at around 400. Cerdic is four generations descended from Wig, making his mid-life around 510. We know that Cerdic is at least a
generation later than Hengist, giving a mid-life for Hengist of around 480.

All of these calculations, no matter how vague the data they are based on, bring us to a mid-life date for Hengist of 460–490. According to the
ASC
, he was dead by 488. It is
difficult to push his life back earlier.

If this is true, then it is impossible for Hengist to be the individual whom Vortigern welcomed to Britain in 428, and more plausible for him to belong to the second
adventus
in 449. It
means we do not know who met Vortigern in 428 – if that date is correct – although Table 3.11 suggests it may have been any of a half-dozen names, including Soemil (who we know from
Nennius was in Britain by 450) and, more intriguingly, Cerdic’s great-grandfather Gewis (
see
page 210).

We could conjecture that although Saxons had been arriving and settling throughout the first half of the fifth century, the significance of the
adventus
under Gewis was that he became
integrated into the British administration under Vortigern, most likely as some sort of personal bodyguard. This could have been in 428, and would have allowed for a generation to become
established by the time of the second
adventus
in the 440s. Gewis and his army may subsequently have settled in Lindsey, but it is more likely that if they did serve as Vortigern’s
personal army their land would initially have been near Vortigern’s court, possibly in or around London or, more likely, near Powys. Intriguingly, flowing down from the Berwyn Mountains in
North Powys, and joining the River Vyrnwy just a few kilometres north of the Gaer Fawr hill fort at Guilsfield, is the River Tanat. It is possible that Gewis and his family were granted land in the
Valley of the Tanat, a name which became confused with Thanet when Hengist and his followers claimed land there a generation later.

Before we set the above in stone, however, we need to follow the rest of Geoffrey’s narrative. After the massacre of the British nobility, the Saxons release Vortigern, but only after his
total
capitulation and handing over of his townships. They capture London, York, Lincoln and Winchester, ravaging the countryside as they go. Vortigern flees to Wales and
summons his magicians. Calling them “magicians” suggests that Geoffrey’s narrative has now turned to fantasy, and that he is in fact paving the way for the introduction of Merlin.
Geoffrey is recounting the same story as told by Nennius, except that Nennius uses the phrase “wise men”, sometimes translated as “wizards”. This is also the point at which
Nennius introduces Ambrosius Aurelianus. Since Geoffrey had already introduced Ambrosius by this point, he adapted this section to introduce Merlin.

Merlin warns Vortigern that Constantine’s sons, Aurelius Ambrosius (as Geoffrey calls him) and Uther, are sailing for Britain and will land the next day. Vortigern seeks safety in his
castle at Genoreu, in Ergyng, usually identified as the hillfort at Little Doward, northeast of Monmouth, and near Symonds Yat, where the tiny village of Ganarew survives today.

Ambrosius and Uther arrive, and Ambrosius is crowned king. He demands the immediate death of Vortigern, marches on Genoreu and burns down the castle. Ambrosius then turns his attention to the
Saxons. Having heard tales of his bravery and prowess, the Saxons retreat beyond the Humber. Hengist is encouraged when he discovers that Ambrosius’s army is only some 10,000 men compared to
his 200,000. Overconfident, Hengist advances south. The first engagement, at Maisbeli, goes in favour of the British. Hengist then flees to Cunungeburg (almost certainly Conisbrough, near
Doncaster) for the showdown.
Maisbeli
, which has not been satisfactorily identified, means “the field of Beli”, which could indicate a site of pre-Christian worship sacred to the
earlier British king Beli, or it may be a field where the Beltane festival was celebrated. A possibility is Hatfield, the old name of which was Meicen, which had been a small Celtic territory in
the locality of Doncaster.

After re-establishing his base at Gloucester, Ambrosius would have led his army along Ryknild Street, the main Roman road from Gloucester towards the Humber. Following this he would have passed
through Conisbrough and Hatfield, all only a few kilometres inland from the original Anglo-Saxon settlements in Lindsey.

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, and
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.