Within later versions of the Arthurian Legends late in Arthur's reign the land turns to waste, famine and pestilence plague the people, and open warfare looms at the twilight of Pax Arthuriana. This is usually associated with the Fisher King. Wounded king, wounded land. There has been much speculation on where this trope of The Wasteland comes from, with one discredited idea that it stems from an Iron Age Fertility rite, mainly put forward by Jessie Weston in her 1920 work 'From Ritual to Romance'.

These later authors may have been drawing from other earlier sources however, that seem to be more firmly rooted in history, the first of which is Gildas' work De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae. Andrew Breeze notes that while Gildas does not note the famine of 537, he notes instead a ‘certain thick mist and black night’ which ‘sits upon the whole island’ of Britain. This was likely caused by the extreme weather events of 535-536 when Gildas was likely writing. Either in late 535 or early 536 there was a massive volcanic eruption that caused the most severe volcanic winter in the northern hemisphere of the past 2000 years. The Irish Annals record: "A failure of bread in AD 536" "A failure of bread from AD 536–539" While the Annales Cambriae gives us the infamous 537 entry for Camlann. "The Battle of Camlann, in which Arthur and Medraut fell, and there was great mortality in Britain and Ireland."

The Roman Statesman Cassiodorus records multiple references to this cataclysm

• The sun's rays were weak, and they appeared a "bluish" colour.

• At noon, no shadows from people were visible on the ground.

• The heat from the sun was feeble.

• The moon, even when full, was "empty of splendour"

• "A winter without storms, a spring without mildness, and a summer without heat"

• Prolonged frost and unseasonable drought

• The seasons "seem to be all jumbled up together"

• The sky "blended with alien elements" prolonged cloudy weather.

Delayed harvest was recorded in China, with snow falling in August, along with a “dense, dry fog”

Dendrochronology also corroborates this period of extreme cooling, with tree ring analysis showing extremely low growth during this period. Summer temperatures are thought to have dropped by 2.5° Celsius (4.5° Fahrenheit)

While many volcanoes have been suggested as the culprit, some have suggested that a meteor, or some other extraterrestrial debris may have been the cause.

While Zachariah of Mitylene’s account is likely factual here, the fire from sea to sea by Gildas is more than likely a metaphorical flourish than literally accounting for a island-wide fiery apocalypse as some folks have surmised (Blackett and Wilson)

Sulfate deposits found in ice cores further reinforce the idea of this cataclysm as being volcanic in nature, ruling out the comet hypothesis. There is evidence for multiple eruptions, extending this volcanic winter, in 541, and again in 547, further driving these years of waste and turmoil. The famines caused by this volcanic winter likely influenced the spread of the plague of Justinian, known in Britain as “The Yellow Plague” with famine weakened immune systems being more susceptible to death, that even kings such as Maelgwn Gwynedd succumbed to.

Unfortunately for us, there are scant links in the chain to follow to confirm whether the later wastes of Arthuriana are the same as recorded in the mid 6th century. Even without these links to connect the dots, in the twilight of Pax Arthuriana there was a cataclysmic weather event that caused massive turmoil, proving an even darker mirror to the later wasteland of late medieval tradition.

In the wake of this event, Germanic populations in Britain had recovered from the earlier wars against the Brythonic kingdoms, grown restless, and started raiding their neighbors, then taking territory again. The Age of Arthur was to come to a close, not in a civil war between father and son, but defending against a desperate cattle raid, spurred by cataclysm.1

Think of John Boorman’s ‘Excalibur’ and you’ll have visions of knights in full plate armour on armoured horse, riding down Arthur’s enemies. If Arthur truly did live in the late 5th and early 6th century AD how did this association happen? Are there origins to this trope deeper than Malory? Possibly older than Arthur’s time?

The Obvious

The answer that stares you right in the face is that it comes from Thomas Mallory’s ‘Le Morte d'Arthur’ published in 1470, during the heyday of heavy cavalry wearing plate armour. Readers at the time would have been familiar with the image of a man clad in head to toe steel on a similarly armoured charger. There is a large chance that the Heavy Cavalry trope ends here, and honestly it’s a bit demystifying and stale. While the trope most likely started with the 12th century romances, It was Mallory that perfected and cemented it, but as usual the truth may have some in common with the fiction, if you are willing to dig.

The Horsemen of the North

Within the Brythonic poetic tradition mounted warriors hold a place of honour, and stand head and shoulders above other warriors.

“He was to be admired in the tumult with nine hundred horse.” 
     -Marwnad Cunedda (The Death-Song of Cunedda)

Most pleasing are the wide-coursing rays of dawn,
Most pleasing are the boisterous chieftains of the governor.
Most fine are cavalry soldiers on their sleek military horses, 
at the beginning of May at the farmlands of the armies
     -Yspeil Taliessin. Kanu Vryen (The Spoils of Taliesin, Poetry for Urien)

It has been proposed by scholars such as John Morris, that this tradition of cavalry amongst the sub-roman Brythonic kingdoms was a key factor in staving off the Germanic Invasions of the 5th and 6th centuries. Using the advantage of cavalry’s mobility Arthur (and other Brythonic kings) could have easily maintained border territory, stopping Germanic advances with quick ‘shock and awe’ strikes from cavalry. Striking out from horse-forts along Roman roads, stopping border incursions through strategic dykes and fortifications much like the Romans did in the prior centuries. These later horse-lords could maintain territory effectively, and raid, but would be less effective at taking new territory, ineffective against fortified positions, and in turn reliant upon fortified positions themselves, as surprised cavalry outside of a fort were far more vulnerable than infantry.

This cavalry would have been far from the Cataphracts of Rome, and further still from the 15th century mounted knight, but still a devastating force on proper ground. Closer to the Roman period some of these especially high-status men may have been armed with scale armour in the vein of the late roman cavalry, and even with armoured horse. Javelins would have been in common use by this cavalry, darting towards infantry loosing their javelins, and turning away from the mass. Repeating this until the enemy was devastated or broken. These warriors would have been the light armoured vehicles of their era, and besides the onslaught of projectiles, and even a determined charge with spear would have been an absolutely devastating possibility with them.

The twelfth battle was on Mount Badon in which there fell in one day 960 men from one charge by Arthur

More common, would have been maille, especially as time passed into the 6th century. These warriors would have looked very similar to the earlier maille-clad lighter Roman cavalry seen in the illustration below. A powerful warlord capable of having a fully kitted and mounted Comitatus would have been able to extend power and impose his will with swiftness and ease.

Men rode to Catraeth with a rallying cry, in 
blue-dark armour, their horses fleet, sharp- 
pointed spear-shafts raised on high, 
blades and mail-coats gleaming. 
     -Y Gododdin

Even with relatively unarmoured horses, and a shortsleeved maille shirt, these men would have still been powerful warriors, charging with javelins and spears to great effect.

Mounted Horsemen in the battle’s van
cast spears of holly stained blood
     -Y Gododdin

A Theory With Few Merits

I have voiced my issues with the Sarmatian theory of King Arthur’s origins before, as the theory is heavily skewed and relies on a monstrous amount of “what ifs” that don’t hold water, especially considering the late codification of the Narts Sagas, in concert with the massive pan-european popularity of the later Arthurian stories. It is hard to conclude that the Narts Sagas influenced Arthur, as it seems that it may have easily been the opposite, with the Narts sagas picking up a significant amount of Arthurian material, that or as is always possible, blind coincidence. I generally do not wish to detract from others work, so I don’t spend too much time debunking as I feel it is wasted effort. While Lucius Artorius Castus was likely not Arthur, and very likely had no command over any of the Sarmatian troops in Britain during his time, the Sarmatian cavalry stationed in the north at Ribchester may very well have had an influence on Arthur afterall.

With their Draconarii raised, charging with lance almost head to toe scale and maille armour, armoured horse1, these cavalrymen would have been a terrifying and memorable sight. Between the Sarmatian cavalry and the late-Roman cavalry that were influenced by them and ultimately succeeded them, there was almost certainly a heavy influence on the Brythonic people of the north, cementing the importance of cavalry. The early post-Roman leaders in the north such as Coel Hen, Cunedda, and Ceredig, undoubtedly would have seen the importance of such cavalry and their associated forts in securing their territory. In Marwnad Cunedda (The Death-Song of Cunedda) we get the earlier mentioned line

“He was to be admired in the tumult with nine hundred horse.”

Nine hundred cavalry at this time would have been a formidable force. Coupling this with the potential Roman pedigree of Cunedda, this idea of an enduring northern culture of martial horsemanship doesn’t seem that farfetched. There is evidence of reoccupation of a number of forts on Hadrian’s Wall, as well as many older Hillforts in this time, with many likely hosting these roving cavalry forces. The entire poem of Y Gododdin is written about an ill-fated cavalry force of the Gododdin, a Brythonic northern kingdom (Coincidentally also where Cunedda was said to have come from, or maybe not so coincidentally). Amongst Nennius we might have a little bit more of this cavalry tradition preserved with his entry for Badon which implies a cavalry charge.

“The twelfth battle was on Mount Badon in which there fell in one day 960 men from one charge by Arthur”

This might be our link between the Brythonic poetic tradition, and the Post-Galfridian tradition, giving us a fairly reasonable path from Late-Roman Cavalry to the later knight of the round table. Dark age horsemen, patrolling and raiding, eventually becoming chivalrous Grail-Questing Knights.

While we can’t say for sure that Mallory’s knights in shining armour were drawn from this northern Brythonic cavalry culture, it is an interesting synchronicity that the later fiction is a strange mirror of the truth.

Addonwy, you swore great deeds,  
as Bradwen did; you burnt, slaughtered,  
as fierce as Morien; with your clear eye  
never lost sight of wing or van;  your surging furious horsemen  
gave not an inch to the Saxon. 

For more on this, and some implications for Arthuis ap Mar you can check out this twitter thread here

As I have discussed in my article on “The Northern Arthur” It would seem that the historical Arthur’s father is indeed not Uther as attributed in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s De Gestis Britonum. If this theory of Arthur’s origins are correct, then why does Uther not appear here?

Aurochs, Arthur, and the Anvil

The Northern Arthur

When the Celtic peoples of Northern Britain are brought up, most will think of the Scots, while others will think of the Picts. Some will bring up the Gododdin. The Gododdin are but one of the numerous Brythonic derived tribes in Northern Britain. Other lesser known Northern British tribes like the Brigantes may have had far reaching influence that we s…

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3 years ago · 15 likes · 7 comments · Aurochs

Does Uther even appear in anything earlier than Geoffrey’s work DGB to even worry about finding him? Our first step is to look at what Geoffrey has to say about Uther.

Monmouth’s Fancies.

The earliest complete story of Uther is of course from Geoffrey. I will briefly summarize it.

Constans, Aurelius, and Uther are born to Constantine (Geoffrey’s Constantine is a strange amalgam of Constantine III and Constantine the Great), who is King of Britain. Constantine dies, and Constans succeeds him, and is murdered and usurped by Vortigern. Aurelius and Uther flee to Brittany, where they find shelter with King Budes (Budic I of Brittany), and are educated and raised there. When of age the brothers return to Britain and proceed to win a war against Vortigern leading to his death. Aurelius is made king, and Uther is tasked by Merlin to assist him in bring the “Giant’s Dance” (Or Giant’s Ring. This later becomes Stonehenge) to Britain from Ireland. Uther wins a battle against the Irish king Gillomanius, and with Merlin’s help magically transports the stones to build a monument to the Britons who have fallen against Hengist’s (one of the Saxon leaders) Treachery. Uther then leads a battle against Pascent, a son of Vortigern and his Saxon allies. A dragon shaped comet is seen, and Merlin interprets this as being the death of Aurelius.

For the star, and the fiery dragon under it, signifies yourself, and the ray extending towards the Gallic coast portends that you shall have a most potent son, to whose power all those kingdoms shall be subject over which the ray reaches. But the other ray signifies a daughter, whose sons and grandsons shall successively enjoy the kingdom of Britain.

Uther becomes King of Britain upon his return from defeating Pascent, taking his epithet of Pendragon after the comet that was seen. Uther defeats Octa of Kent in a great battle, then repairs Alt Clut, and “tames the fierceness of that rebellious people” the Scots. When peace was established he headed south to London. He then calls a festival, and all the nobles attended. Gorlois, and his wife Igerna were amongst the many attendees, and Uther was struck at once by Igerna’s beauty. After the festival he summoned Gorlois once again, but was refused. Uther makes war upon Gorlois, and while the Duke is fighting, Uther has Merlin transform him into the Duke’s likeness “With Medical Applications” “unherd of in your time”, They then walk into the castle, and Uther lay with Igerna. Arthur is conceived. Gorlois dies in battle, and Uther marries Igerna. Time passes, and an older Uther attacks the Angles in the North. He wins against them, but after drinking from a poisoned spring he dies, the same as his brother years before as Merlin prophesied.

Are there pre-Galfridian references to Uther?

The only surefire earlier reference to Uther exists in one manuscript of Nennius’ Historia Brittonum. This particular manuscript speaking of Arthur, says that he was called “in British mab Uter, that is in Latin terrible son, because from his youth he was cruel”, and most have taken this to imply a less chivalrous youthful Arthur than most are used to. Other sources such as, The Life of St. Gildas, and Life of St. Padarn describe Arthur quite negatively as well. This once again brings to mind Geoffrey's account of Arthgallo.

Aurochs, Arthur, and the Anvil

Arthgallo, Arthwys ap Mar, and Arthur

This is going to be a small expansion upon the last part of my article in Issue 7 of Raw Egg Nationalist’s wonderful Man’s World Issue 7. In that article I put the spotlight on three figures I think play some part in Arthur’s creation. One of these was Arthwys ap Mar. I will eventually do a longer piece focusing exclusively on him, and what we can glean…

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4 years ago · 4 likes · Aurochs

Arthgallo being of course Geoffrey’s version of Arthuis ap Mar, who also mentions him as initially a bad king, "He... endeavoured to depress the nobility... He plundered the rich, and by those means amassed vast treasures." before being deposed, and once restored to the throne is as good a king as ever was. Could Geoffrey, who was certainly drawing from Nennius have had a manuscript with the ‘mab Uter’ line, and taking it as literally being his father’s name used it in his History?

There are other possible pre-Galfridian sources however. Pa Gur, a fragmentary Old Welsh poem of unknown date, and Marwnat Vthyr Pen, a poem from the Book of Taliesin. Both of these are of course, as always, extremely difficult to date, with the earliest estimates for Pa Gur being 8th century, with a more readily accepted date of the 12th century. While Marwnat Vthyr Pen is even harder to date, though pre-Galfridian is likely with it. So what do they say of Uther?

Within Marwnat Vthyr Pen or, in English “The Death-song of Uther Ben (Awesome Head-Chief)” We are given an elegy to this “Awesome (or Terrible in the older sense of the word) Head-Chief. (Translation by John Koch)

I AM THE ONE mighty in hosts in furore. 
I would not yield between war-bands without bloodshed. 
I am the one who is called [steely] lustrous blue. 
My battle-belt was a [captive's] collar to my enemy. 

It is I who am a prince in the gloom, 
causing my appearance . . . 

I am like a second ?cawyl in the gloom. 
I would not yield without bloodshed whilst amongst the war-band of the court. 
It is I whose heroic deed contended, 
seeking to annihilate the kinsmen of Casnur.
It is I who poured blood for victory. 
I am the one whose champion's feats partook in 
a ninth part of Arthur's valour. 

It is I who broke a hundred fortified towns. 
It is I who killed a hundred mayors of strongholds. 
It is I who gave out a hundred cloaks. 
It is I who cut off a hundred heads. 
It is I who gave the ancient leader 
enormous sword strokes in protection. 
It is I who have made the [?]thundering 
of the [?]fiery iron door of the mountaintop. 
• • • • • • • (missing part)
I am a bard, my talent praiseworthy. 
Let it be by means of crows and eagles and the rage of battle, 
[ as when] perfect darkness descended so broadly, 
when the four men plied weapons between two hosts. 
Climbing to heaven was my desire, 
against eagles and fear of injury.

Many have taken the title alone to not be depicting a proper name, but instead to be an epithet or title of some kind. Whoever this Terrible Chief of Chiefs was, he was a splendid general, winning 100 sieges, killing 100 leaders, and even an acclaimed warrior, giving sword strokes to defend, and cutting off a hundred heads. However we once again, like with Gwawrddur get a comparison to Arthur. Some have taken the line here to imply that Arthur and Uther are related here, but that really doesn’t seem to be present in any possible translation. What this does imply though, and this is especially important if this is a pre-Galfridian poem that Uther was a known figure prior to Geoffrey. Within Pa Gur Uther is mentioned as well. Pa Gur is a conversation between the Gateman of a castle and Arthur, in which Arthur recounts his men’s deeds for the Gateman. One of the men is mentioned as

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

Mabon son of Madron, 
the man of Uthi:r Pendragon,

This once again reinforcing the idea of Uther as a man not a title, even having the full Pendragon epithet. This does give me pause however, and in my opinion makes the likely hood of Pa Gur being a later poem high. That doesn’t mean that all of Pa Gur was composed later, but that Uther Pendragon may be a later interpolation.

There is a third poem that muddies things even further, and is the only one to link Arthur and Uther directly as family. This poem is known from a 16th century manuscript, although some scholars believe it is much older. Whether it is pre-Galfridian is unclear however. In Ymddiddan Arthur a’r Eryr’ (the Conversation between Arthur and the Eagle) Arthur converses with his dead nephew Eliwlod in the form of an eagle. Here Eliwlod says that he is the son of Madoc ap Uthyr. This makes Madoc and Arthur brothers, and if pre-Galfridian may be the first text to link the two as father and son.

The unfortunate thing with this that since almost nothing of this can be dated for sure prior to Geoffrey of Monmouth (although I do believe that The Death-Song of Vthyr Pen is likely quite old) we can’t draw any major conclusions from this other than the slight possibility that Arthur and the Eagle pre-dates Geoffrey. As Eliwlod does not appear in DGB it may be possible that this predates it and that Geoffrey may not have even known about the poem, though this is wild conjecture.

Another Angle, and possibly a historical Identification.

There is a triad listing the triplets of Eliffer Gosgorddfawr, the son of Arthuis ap Mar. “The three fair womb-burdens of Britain”

The third was Gwrgi and Peredur sons of Eliffer of the Great Warband, and Arddun their sister.

In the translation available at Jesus College, Oxford, Arddun instead is called Arthur. What does this have to do with Uther though? Eliffer’s name is latinized as Elutherius, and I would chance to say that this mistranslation of the triad may have been the root, or reinforcement of the idea of (El)Uther(ius) as the father of Arthur. This combined with the bit from Nennius, and possibly Marwnat Vthyr Pen may have been enough for Geoffrey of Monmouth to cement Uther as Arthur's father in future versions of the legends.

This does beg the question though, could Eliffer actually be the Uther of Marwnat Vyther Pen? Let’s look at an alternate translation of the two lines mentioning Arthur.

Have I not been accustomed to blood about the wrathful,
A sword-stroke daring against the sons of Cawrnur?
I shared my shelter,
a ninth share of Arthur's valour.

This almost recurring idea of a comparison to Arthur is interesting. I would not expect in an elegy that one would want to demean a father so, implying that he was only a ninth as bold as his son. Would it instead not make potentially more sense the other way around? That Uther was instead a ninth part of Arthur’s success, as a son? Eliffer certainly fits that bill, commanding his “great host” or “great warband” Likely acting as a preeminent warlord for his father Arthuis during Arthuis’ own life.

Even Geoffrey’s Uther has echoes of both Mar and Eliffer. Mar likely fought both the Angles and the Scots multiple times, eventually even dying in battle against the Scots under Fergus Mor. He was most likely the one to drive Octa from Ebrauc after his time operating as a foederati chieftain there. While Mar does not have a son named Madoc, as in Arthur and the Eagle, he does have a son named Morydd, who in turn has a son named Madoc. This Madoc is the father of the famed Myrddin Wyllt. Maybe further confusion muddying the waters, as Madoc was quite the common name at the time. There might be a connection between Uther and Mar though that could have led to the confusion as well, in that Ebrauc comes from the same root as Yew, and in Ogham is written the same, Iuber, which appears sometimes in Irish sources as Uther's name. So Mar of Ebrauc becomes Mar of Iuber, becomes Uther? This is however a very shaky connection and I am unsure of the veracity of this link myself, and would not stake my reputation on it, though I include it here for posterity’s sake.

Eliffer likely fought against the Scots, Picts and Angles all the same as his father and grandfather, likely dying fighting against Ida of Bernicia. With a name and an epithet that is not dissimilar from some interpretations of “Uther Pendragon” “Elutherius of the Great Warband” vs. “Uther Chief of Warriors” . I am reaching borderline uncomfortable levels of conjecture here, and playing the name-game quite heavily, but I do find it compelling all the same. “It is I who am a prince in the gloom” twilight of Arthuis perhaps? A memory of a son in the shadow of his father at the end of Pax Arthuriana?

While I cannot say for sure that Eliffer was the inspiration for this later figure of Uther, I do believe that at least the triad about his children and the reference in Nennius was likely the start of the concept of Uther as the father of Arthur.

While the concept of The Sword in the Stone is commonly brought up as part of Arthurian canon, the motif didn't show up in relation to Arthur until the 13th century, when Robert de Boron composed his epic poem Merlin. 'Merlin' is a heavy reworking of Wace's 'Roman de Brut', which itself is a reworking of Geoffrey of Monmouth's 'De gestis Britonum', neither of which mention The Sword in the Stone. While Excalibur appears in the Pre-Galfridian tradition, and is likely based on an older folkloric tradition, the idea of a sword pulled from a stone doesn’t seem to appear prior to Robert de Boron’s Merlin at all.

Many theories have come forward as to where the origin of this trope may come from, with many often trying to tie it into ancient bronze casting techniques, 'drawing' a sword from a 'stone' mould. This is a much earlier concept, and if this was the origin one would expect it to appear in the earlier Arthurian tradition, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. So while this is compelling, and I wouldn’t throw it out completely, it doesn’t seem to be the origin of Arthur’s Sword in the Stone.

Roland, the famous Paladin of Charlemagne is sometimes associated with the idea of a Sword in the Stone. The 12th Century monks of Rocamadour claimed that Roland had thrown his Unbreakable sword Durendal into the cliffs there, and the supposed relic still is there to this day. Inspection of it shows that it is unlikely this is a period sword however, and widespread circulation of this story seems to have happened after Robert de Boron’s ‘Merlin’ was written. The monks may have even been inspired to fabricate such a story from the next figure I will discuss. Galgano Guidotti a Saint from Tuscany.

There are two versions of Galgano's story, in the first version, he has a vision, and a voice tells him to renounce his material possessions and his villainous ways, Galgano replied that it would be as hard as splitting rock, he then tried to drive his sword into the ground. The ground yielded as if it wasn't there, and Galgano took up the life of a hermit on the very hill the vision happened. He never left the hill until his death.

In the second version, it was said he wanted to make a cross upon the hill, but having no wood, he decided to plant his sword in the ground. Doing so, the ground and the sword became one, and no one could remove it.

Galgano’s story was a popular making it's way across Europe in Robert's time, and you can still see the sword today in Montesiepi Chapel. While it's authenticity has been doubted for years, recent analysis has proven that it is a proper period sword, and extends underneath, where a large cavity underneath, measuring two meters by one meter that may be the burial of St Galgano himself. I find it very likely that this is in fact where Robert de Boron drew the inspiration for his Sword in the Stone, and cemented it as a memorable part of Arthurian Canon.

Galgano's sword, in turn becomes Arthur's Sword in the Stone via Robert de Boron, and in turn influences Malory, who cements it's place as Arthurian canon.

If you enjoyed this article, and would like more like this, like the article and subscribe, as well as follow me on twitter. If this is well received I will discuss other tropes, like Myrddin and the Dragons, the Grail, and others. Let me know if you have any that you’d like addressed in the comments as well!

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