Welcome to the Dark Ages. Welcome to the Land of King Arthur.

I have been fascinated with the life and times of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table since I was a child — I guess growing up a stone’s throw from Glastonbury (The Ancient Isle of Avalon) may have had something to do with that.

My book series, The Du Lac Chronicles, tells the story of what happened after the death of Arthur, and continues the story of his Knights and their sons. But to write about the end of Arthur’s reign, I needed to know about the beginning. A not so easy task, it turned out.

The history of a historical Arthur is not written in stone but is, instead, engraved in folklore, and that brings its own set of challenges.

Firstly, where did Arthur come from? Well, that is an easy question to answer…

King Arthur was English. No, he was Welsh. Arthur was Scottish. He was from Brittany. Oh, for goodness’ sake, he was a Roman General!

Which is right? Arthur is so famous that everyone wants to claim him and, over the years, there have been many names thrown out there as to who he really was. But we mustn’t forget that when we are dealing with Arthur, we are digging up folklore, and that is not the same as excavating relics. We can make Arthur fit wherever we want him to, and that is where the problem lies. It is very easy to make mistakes, and I have read many books that claim to have found the real Arthur, only they haven’t, it is just a theory, sometimes a very shaky one.

The same can be said for Arthur’s famous castle, Camelot. There have been many possible locations for one of the most famous castles in history. Tintagel, Cadbury Hill, Caerlaverock Castle, have all been put forward. However, during all this excitement and discoveries we have overlooked a fundamental issue — there was no Camelot. It was an invention of a French poet in 1180! How can you look for something that was never there to begin with?

King Arthur statue at Tintagel Castle by Rubin Eynon

The Dark Ages, in which my books are set, is equally challenging to research because there is a lack of reliable primary resources. What was written down was written down for a purpose and that purpose was usually politically motivated, which in itself is fascinating, although not so helpful. Now, in these early texts when Arthur is mentioned, there is nothing about him being a king. Nennuis describes him as a warrior on par with Ironman, but no mention of a crown.

It isn’t until the 12^th Century when Geoffrey of Monmouth writes his great work that the Arthur we know is born. The History of The Kings of Briton was meant to be a historically accurate account of British History and for many, many, years what Monmouth wrote was considered factually correct. Of course, we now know it was anything but. However, that does not mean that Monmouth’s work is of no particular value. Monmouth borrowed heavily from folklore, and it is his story that drives the legend of Arthur and his Knights forward. I think Monmouth’s book is incredibly important as it tells us a great deal about, not only the era, but also about the people who were listening to his stories. And if we dig a little further, we can discover that it wasn’t only the populous who loved listening to Arthurian tales. Those ever practical monks at Glastonbury Abbey did as well.

Let’s take a journey back to 12^th Century England…

A terrible fire had spread through Glastonbury Abbey, and unfortunately for the monks, they did not have the coffers to pay for the repairs. If only they could encourage more pilgrims to come to the Abbey. What could they do?

Glastonbury Abbey

Thanks to Monmouth’s book “Arthur Fever” had gripped the nation. People would pay good money to go on a pilgrimage to Arthur’s final resting place. All that was needed was a good story and a grave. The monks of Glastonbury announced to the world that they had discovered Arthur’s final resting place. That brought in the crowds. Glastonbury Abbey soon had the coffers to make the repairs and then some. There was as much truth in the story of Glastonbury Abbey and King Arthur’s grave as there was in The History of the Kings of Briton. But for hundreds of years, both the Abbey and Monmouth were believed.

My books are not just set in Britain, but France as well, so I needed to have a good understanding of what was happening in both of these countries in the 5^th / 6^th Century to keep the history real in the telling. But, before I could look at France, I needed to have an understanding of what was happening in the Western Roman Empire during this time. By 476 C.E. the last emperor of the Western Roman Empire had been overthrown. The stability that the Roman Empire had brought to Western Europe for over 1000 years was no more.

This dawning new era brings us some of the most fascinating historical figures that ever lived. These were the days of men such as Clovis. Clovis won a decisive victory against Rome, at the Battle of Soissons in AD 486. But, Clovis’ ambition didn’t stop there. Roman Gaul and parts of Western Germany fell to him as well. He forged a new empire through blood, war, and marriage. He made Paris the capital of his new kingdom, and he was the first King of a united Frank (France).

Jpeg of Clovis I

The Saxons and the Angles crossed the South Sea to take advantage of vulnerable Britain who, since the Romans had left, had split back into various smaller kingdoms. There was much infighting and unrest. It was the perfect opportunity for the Saxon’s to come over and stake their claim.

While all this was going on, the Church was creeping into the crevices, and spreading the word of God and, what could be considered of equal value, one language — Latin. It could be argued that it was the Church that united Britain in the end.

This was a time of great unrest and change, but one thing remained constant for the general populous and that was storytelling. Arthur may well have been a general but folklore made him a Christian King and gave him a castle full of noble knights. Arthur and his Knights (most of them anyway) cared about the people they represented. Arthur was a good king, the like of which has never been seen before or after. He was the perfect tool for spreading a type of patriotic propaganda. Arthur was someone you would want to fight by your side. But he also gave ordinary people a sense of belonging and hope. He is, after all, as T.H White so elegantly put it — The Once and Future King.

King Arthur by Charles Earnest Butler.

I have tried to show what life was like in the 5th /6th Century in my books, but I have been heavily influenced by folklore because when you are dealing with this period in history, you cannot dismiss it. Brittany, for example, is terribly difficult to research historically during this era, because what was written was unfortunately lost during the Viking invasion. However, when it comes to folklore, Brittany is rich and if that is all she is going to give us, then so be it.

The Carnac Stones, Brittany.
Local Legend claims that the stones were once a Roman Legion. The great sorcerer, Merlin, turned the Legion to stone.

 

Folklore is its own particular brand of history, and it is often overlooked by historians, which I think is a shame. You can tell a lot about a people by the stories they tell, and people are still fascinated by this larger-than-life King, which I think, says it all. Arthur may well have been a general, or a knight, he may have been English, he may not, but it doesn’t matter because his story is timeless, it will never grow old.

London Bridge Is Falling Down #myths #legends #Viking

We all know the children's nursery rhyme London Bridge is Falling down.

Well, I wonder if you have ever heard this verse...

London Bridge is broken down.

Gold is won, and bright renown.

Shields resounding,

War-horns sounding,

Hild is shouting in the din!

Arrows singing,

Mail-coats ringing,

Odin makes our Olaf win! 

Let's take a journey back to the early 11th Century. It is story time, now listen...

The oars of the great Viking longships hardly made any sound as they cut through the water of the River Thames. The mist from the Thames hid their presence and they made good progress. However, as the sun began to rise, so did the mist.

 A child rubbed her tired eyes when she thought she saw something that looked like a dragon. Suddenly she realised what she was seeing. 

"Vikings," she screamed with fear, as she dropped her basket and ran for home.

Her cry was taken up by others, and King Cnut, whose Father had only recently toppled King Æthelred from the throne, came out with his warriors. Surely Æthelred would not be so foolish as to try and take his kingdom back?

King Sweyn (Cnut's father) invading England 1013 ~ WIkipedia

Unbeknown to King Cnut, King Æthelred had enlisted the help of the great King Olaf of Norway. King Cnut prayed to God for victory when he spotted an armada of dragon heads coming out of the mist.

"To the Bridge," he yelled. King Cnut knew that if they could hold the Bridge, then they could hold the kingdom. King Æthelred would have to pass under the bridge if he had any chance of winning this battle. King Cnut prayed to God that King Æthelred would keep coming, for he had one heck of a surprise for him.

But, this had once been King Æthelred's kingdom, he knew the territory and he knew this bridge. So he was not at all surprised when he saw that King Cnut had used the bridge to form an impassable blockade.

King Æthelred smiled, it was exactly what he had expected King Cnut to do and he had prepared for such an eventuality. He had instructed King Olaf to build high platforms on the boats. He knew that King Cnut would think that this had been done to protect the rowers, but that was not the reason.

When the dragon heads reached the bridge, King Æthelred and King Olaf's men climbed onto the platforms. They were now on the same level as King Cnut's warriors who were standing on the bridge. King Æthelred had instructed his and King Olaf's men to stand in pairs. One of which would hold a shield and the other a grappling hook.

A typical Viking shield ~ Wikipedia

Arrows, rocks, and rubble rained down upon them, but it did not deter the warriors who threw their hooks towards the bridge’s wooden pilings. But they were not trying to moor up, far from it.

King Cnut's released what King Æthelred planned to do and he ordered his men to throw mighty boulders down onto the ships, but it was too late.

King Æthelred gave the order to row back the way they had come. The wood of the bridge’s pilings held strong for a moment. King Æthelred felt a moment of doubt. This wasn't working. But then, God answered his prayers. The wood began to tear as the grappling hooks dug in. London Bridge began to shake.

King Æthelred encourage his mean to heave and to his delight he watched as wood, stone and men fell into the water.

Æthelred in an early thirteenth-century copy of the Abingdon Chronicle ~ Wikipedia

A great cheer rose up from the Viking boats. King Æthelred and King Olaf had won. London Bridge had fallen down.

Is there any truth in the story...? 

 King Cnut defending London Bridge ~ Wikipedia

Well, yes! Æthelred the Unready did indeed lose his throne to Sweyn. Æthelred fled to Normandy, but then Sweyn died unexpectedly and his son, Cnut, became king. Æthelred launched an expedition, with the support of Olaf Haraldsson to retake his kingdom. Olaf led a successful attack on London Bridge, and Cnut and his army withdrew from England.

Later, Æthelred son, Edmund Ironside, revolted against his father and established himself in the Danelaw. Cnut returned and over the next few months conquered most of England. Cnut won a decisive victory over Edmund at the Battle of Ashingdom (1066) but, so impressed was he with Edmund that he agreed to divide the nation. Edmund took Wessex while Cnut took the whole of the country beyond the Thames. Edmund died a few weeks later, and Cnut became the first Viking King of England.

References: 
Unless otherwise stated, all images can be found on Pixabay.

#FolkloreThursday ~ Merlin and the Stones #Arthurian #myths

Today on #FolkloreThursday I am going to head over to Wiltshire and tell the story of a King, a great Sorcerer, and some Standing Stones.

Once upon a time, there was a great but terrible battle. King Ambrosius lost over 3,000 of his noble Knights. As he looked upon the carnage of the battlefield, his heart felt heavy.

With tears in his eyes, he turned to his most trusted advisor — a young boy whose name was Merlin.

"I will not have their noble sacrifice forgotten," King Ambrosius said. "I want to build a monument, so all who pass this way will remember how they gave their lives for this Kingdom."

"I know just the thing," Merlin said, smiling for the first time that day. "Have you heard of The Giant's Dance, Sire?"

"No," King Ambrosius stated.

"The Giants Dance is a circle of stones. It is said they are magical, some even claim they can heal the sick."

"Then we should bring The Giant's Dance here," King Ambrosius said as he turned his back on all the dead.

"There is just one problem," Merlin said, a frown on his brow. "The Giant's Stone are in Killaraus—"

"Ireland?" King Ambrosius sighed unhappily. "I do not have the men to go to Ireland."

"But Sire," Merlin persisted. "These stones will stand as a monument forever. No one will forget the deaths of our most noble knights. These stones will stand as testament."

King Ambrosius thought on this. Finally he said, "You can go to Ireland with 15,000 knights and bring the stones back. Uther will accompany you."

Uther, Ambrosius brother, had just walked up to them, his face was splattered with blood, as was his clothes. He yawned with fatigue. "Where are we going?" Uther asked tiredly.

"Ireland," King Ambrosius informed him. He smiled and patted his brother on the back before walking away.

"Ireland?" Uther asked, looking at Merlin for an explanation.

"It was his idea," Merlin said, pointing to the King.

What Uther said next isn't suitable for this blog...!

The crossing of the Irish Sea was no picnic. The tide was high and unpredictable. By the time the coast of Ireland came into view, even Merlin was wondering if he had been a little hasty at his suggesting the Stones as a monument.

Along the top of the cliffs, an army watched their progress. The Irish knew the Knights of Ambrosius would only cross the sea for one thing and one thing only. But if they thought they could come here and take the sacred Stones then they had another think coming.

But as the Knights of Ambrosius departed from the boats, the Irish realised the fragility of their numbers. There was no way they could win. So with heavy hearts, they dropped their weapons and walked away. The Stones would have to take care of themselves.

Meeting no resistance, Merlin and the Knights made for the Stones. But try as they might the Knights of Ambrosius could not move the Stones. Merlin sat down in the grass and watched with barely concealed enjoyment.

Defeated, Uther sat down next to him.

"My brother is deluded if he thinks we can bring theses Stones back to Briton."

"I wouldn't say deluded, " Merlin said, rising to his feet. And then with a few softly spoken words, the Stones began to tremble. Ambrosius' Knights stepped back and looked at the Stones with panic.

Merlin walked confidently forward as the Stones still trembled. He raised his arms in the air and continued to chant. To the astonishment of everyone gathered, the Stones began to rise slowly into the air.

"To the boats," Merlin said with a grin to the Knights who were stood watching the Stones with opened mouths.

"Why didn't he just do that in the first place?" One of the Knights asked Uther.

Uther shook his head and breathed out unsteadily.

The sea was calm during the crossing back, but Merlin, who continued to chant, looked tired and drawn. By the time they reached Salisbury, Merlin was supported by Uther and another Knight, but still, he continued to chant. When they came into the presence of the King, Merlin allowed the Stones to fall softly to the earth.

“You did it,” King Ambrosius said, grinning like a fool.

Merlin was too exhausted to reply.

King Ambrosius immediately summoned the clergy and his people to celebrate the erection of the monument. Merlin once again began to mutter under his breath and the Stones once more lifted into the air, but this time when they landed, they were in their rightful positions, just as they had been in Ireland.