The Mammoth Book of King Arthur (37 page)

9. The Irish Annals

The Irish Annals are considerably more extensive than the Welsh, and it is strongly suspected that some of the
Welsh Annals
were rebuilt from the Irish ones many years
later. The Irish Annals have little bearing on Arthurian history. They deal primarily with Irish history, and, although they do make occasional references to significant events in Britain, they are
of little help in our deliberations.

Except, that is, for the following. There are six primary Irish Annals, starting with the
Annals of Inisfallen
, which survives from the eleventh century. The others are the
Annals of
Ulster
, the
Annals of Clonmacnoise
, the
Annals of Tigernach
, the
Chronicum Scotorum
and the wonderfully named
Annals of the Four Masters.
Four of these have the
following entry variously dated from the year 620
AD
(
Four Masters
), to 625/6 (
Scotorum
and
Inisfallen
). The most complete version is that in the
Annals of Clonmacnoise
(624):

A brief entry, but an intriguing one, which makes the point that Artúir was a Briton (sometimes translated as a Welshman), and therefore not Irish. Mongan is an
historically recognized king, so there is no reason to presume his death from Arthur’s missile is
fabricated. That makes this Arthur very real, but we are in the period
620–626, a hundred years later than the events of Badon and Camlann.

The tale behind this Arthur takes us to one of the more famous legendary exploits of the Irish. Perhaps the best known of all of the Irish seafarers was Brendan, also known as Bran, the founding
abbot of Clonfert. Brendan lived throughout the Arthurian period, around 486–575, and became immortalised through his travels, particularly the one recorded in the ninth-century poem,
The
Voyage of Bran.
This includes an episode in which Bran meets Manannan mac Lir. Manannan tells Bran that his destiny is taking him to Ireland, where he will father a son, the future hero Mongan,
with the wife of the king, Fiachna. The poem includes some predictions about Mongan, including the following quatrain:

This prophecy was, of course, compiled by the bards many years after Mongan’s death, but one wonders how significant the word “dragonstone” is. Did they mean a
stone of the Pendragon?

The Voyage of Bran
continues:

Does the “son of error” mean that Artúir ap Bicor was illegitimate? The poem also suggests that Mongan’s killer would come from
Islay. A later lament on the death of Mongan, attributed to the Ulster king Becc Boirche, also says:

Islay was part of the kingdom of Dál Riata, carved out in Argyll and Kintyre (“Cantire”) by the Irish from their own kingdom of Dál Riata, in Ulster.
At the time of Mongan’s death in 620–626, the king of the Kintyre Dál Riata was Eochaid Buide (“the Fair”), the youngest son of Aedan mac Gabhran. Eochaid’s
inheritance of the kingship was foretold by St Columba, when Aedan asked the missionary which of his four sons would succeed him. Columba declared that three of them, Artúir, Eochaid Find
and Domangart, would pre-decease Aedan. It was the youngest, Eochaid Buide, who would succeed.

Artúir mac Aedan’s name appears in the genealogies of the
History of the Men of Scotland
and, more significantly, his death is recorded in the
Annals of Tigernach.
Tigernach was the Abbot of Clonmacnoise in Ireland who died in 1088, but it is believed that he continued a set of annals maintained at the abbey since the year 544, when it was founded. They
record the deaths of Artúir and Eochaid Find in 596 in a battle against the Mæatae north of the Antonine Wall, and therefore close to the territory of the Manau Gododdin. Their main
fortress was at Dunmyat, in what became Clackmannanshire. Aedan of Dál Riata was expanding his regime and encountering conflicts on all sides. Although he was victorious over the
Mæatae, it was at the cost of his sons Artúir and Eochaid Find.

The campaigns of Aedan hold some other tempting morsels. Though he was king of Dál Riata in Britain, Aedan was still subject to his Irish overlord in Ulster, Baetan mac Cairill, the most
powerful king in Ireland at that time, who came to power in 572 and rapidly exerted his authority over the Dál Riatan settlement in Britain. Aedan was determined to keep his
independence and, in 575, met Baetan in battle at Dun Baetan in Ulster. Aedan was defeated, and forced to pay homage to Baetan at Islandmagee, near Carrickfergus. Aedan’s young
son Artúir was present at Dun Baetan. Laurence Gardner, in
Bloodline of the Holy Grail
, tells us that this was the second battle at Dun Baetan (
see
Chapter 7). The first, in
516, had been between Aedan’s father Gabhran, who augmented his troops with those of Ambrosius Aurelianus, and Baetan’s father Cairill. The result was a remarkable victory for the
Scots. Gardner believes it was this battle that Gildas recalls in
De Excidio.
The 574 battle is the one recalled by Nennius, but over time memories of the two have merged.

Aedan continued to do battle against the Ulster overlord. In 577, Baetan captured the Isle of Man, but was forced to retreat the following year. Baetan died, somewhat mysteriously, in 581, and
in 582 Aedan, and presumably Artúir who would now have been aged about 23, succeeded in driving the remaining Irish out of Man and taking control of the island. Aedan remained a powerful
ruler in the north throughout the rest of the sixth century, but met his match in 603 when he set out to teach Athelfrith of Northumbria a lesson. He was soundly defeated at Degsastan (probably
Dawston, in Liddesdale). Bede records that he “took to flight with a few survivors while almost his entire army was cut down.”

If Artúir mac Aedan died in battle in the year 596, he cannot be the Artúir who killed Mongan in 620. It would, in any case, be difficult to equate Artúir’s father
Aedan with Bicor. The implication of the reference to Islay and Kintyre is that Artúir ap Bicor was one of the Scottish Dál Riata, but would an Irish annalist refer to him as British?
By this time we are four generations removed from Fergus, whose son Domangart was also born in Ireland, so we are at best only talking of grandchildren of settlers.

However, there had been Irish settlers in Kintyre for over a hundred years before Fergus established his separate kingdom, and these settlers would have interbred, and may well have been
regarded as British by the Irish. If so, then we can go no further in our quest for Artúir ap Bicor. In all probability, he was a warrior in the army of Eochaid the Fair, who had been given
his
name in honour of Aedan’s heroic son, and who in turn had his five minutes of fame.

Is there a case for looking further? Looking back to our pedigrees, we see that the only other contemporary Artúir was Artúir ap Pedr, who lived perhaps a little too early for this
event. Like a Kintyre Arthur, this Artúir was also descended from Irish settlers, but by now over eight generations, so may well have been regarded as a Briton by the Irish.

In consulting this Arthur’s pedigree in
The Expulsion of the Déisi
, we find that his father’s name is given as
Retheoir
, which may mean “lance-man”
or “lance wielder.” This form of name may also equate with Bicor, which means “good throw” or “lucky throw”. Thus the apparent patronymic
Bicor
may simply
have been a nickname for Arthur, who after his success in killing Mongan became known as “Arthur of the lucky shot”.

We can, perhaps, play this game a little further. At the same time that Artúir ruled Dyfed, his neighbour in Ceredigion was Arthfoddw ap Boddw, whose name may also incorporate a nickname,
“Arth the lucky.” Could “Arth the lucky” and “Arthur the lucky shot” be the same person?

We do not know enough about either Artúir of Dyfed or Arthfoddw ap Boddw to know why either might be fighting against Mongan in Ireland, or why they should be linked with Kintyre. The
coasts of both territories were subject to attacks by Irish raiders and this may have been a retaliation, but it seems unlikely. I strongly suspect that Artúir ap Bicor is a red herring,
though a useful one, because it does show that the name Artúir was perhaps becoming more prevalent by the seventh century.

We have now explored the vast majority of the Welsh Arthurian tradition. There are further minor references in other poems, but they tell us no more about an historical
Arthur.

What is most obvious about the Welsh tales is that they provide none of that background supplied by Nennius, and later by Geoffrey. The Welsh stories tell us nothing of the background of
Vortigern and Ambrosius, and nothing significant about Arthur’s campaign against the Saxons. If anything, Arthur’s battles seem to be against other British or Welsh warbands.
Badon is mentioned in
The Dream of Rhonabwy
, but not in the Triads, although Camlann does feature.

Furthermore, most of the dates relating to the Welsh Arthur are in the mid to late sixth century, and only a few, such as Geraint’s, relate to the time of Badon.

Almost all of the references to Arthur in the Welsh tales relate to either Arthur of Dyfed or Arthur of Gwent, with perhaps a hint of Arthur of the Pennines. Only the elegies of Llongborth and
Catraeth possibly contain a distant memory of the hero of Badon. The triads add little of merit, but we may again get a hint of Arthur’s courts and of his battle tactics.

Despite the wealth of material, Arthur of Badon still eludes us. But now we turn to the man who will reveal all: Geoffrey of Monmouth.

9

THE CREATION OF ARTHUR – GEOFFREY’S VERSION

1. Geoffrey of Monmouth

Geoffrey of Monmouth’s
Historia Regum Britanniae
(
History of the Kings of Britain
), completed around 1138 (thus more than six centuries after Arthur’s
time), was the work that really created the legend, taking a character known from folk tales and turning him into Britain’s greatest hero. Even now, almost nine centuries after
Geoffrey’s work took the Norman world by storm, questions are still asked about its authenticity. Virtually every scholar treats Geoffrey’s story as a fabrication, but it is peppered
with enough tantalising facts to lure the reader into believing the rest. Over three hundred years have passed since Nennius compiled his
Historia Brittonum
, and in that time Britain had
changed radically. The Saxon conquerors had themselves been conquered by the Normans seventy years earlier in 1066, many becoming serfs within the growing Norman empire. The Welsh remained
independent, but although not conquered by the Normans were regarded as a vassal state. The Welsh nevertheless retained a fierce national pride, particularly strong under Gruffydd ap Cynan, king of
Gwynedd, the most powerful ruler in Wales. Despite being held prisoner by the Normans at Chester for over ten years, Gruffydd continued to fight, although he was soundly defeated by forces under
William II in 1098, and again by Henry I in 1114. For the rest of his life, which was long, Gruffydd ap Cynan strove to establish a national Welsh identity and heritage, becoming a patron of music
and the arts, and bringing order to
the bardic tradition. Gruffydd had a passion for bardic stories, and there is no doubt that during these years, especially the 1120s, his
court was a cauldron for the formation of the Arthurian legend.

We know little about Geoffrey’s early years. He calls himself Galfridus
Monumotensis
, or “of Monmouth”, which probably means he was born there. Monmouth over the
centuries has been claimed by both Wales and England. It was in the old kingdom of Gwent, or more accurately Ergyng, which places Geoffrey’s childhood in the area where we know from Nennius
that both Vortigern and Ambrosius, and therefore possibly Arthur, lived. Geoffrey doubtless grew up with the legends as part of his childhood, and apparently sometimes called himself Arthur, which
may also have been his father’s name. It is probable that his parents, or at least one of them, came from Brittany and that Geoffrey may have lived there for some years. We do not know when
he was born, but it was probably in the 1080s, and he and his family may have returned to England from Brittany during the reign of Henry I, who became king in 1100.

We first learn of Geoffrey as a teacher and secular canon at St. George’s College, Oxford, in 1129. The university did not yet exist, but Oxford was already becoming established as a seat
of learning. Geoffrey was by then of sufficient status to be a witness to a charter, so he may have been there for most of the 1120s. He remained in Oxford until 1151 when he became bishop-elect of
St. Asaph’s in North Wales. He was ordained at Westminster Abbey in February 1152, but probably never visited St Asaph’s due to the renewed conflict between the English and Welsh under
Owain Gwynedd. Owain had taken advantage of an England weakened by civil war during the reign of Stephen to establish himself as the most powerful ruler in Wales. This conflict makes it clear that
Geoffrey must have been regarded as a Breton rather than Welsh by his Norman peers, who would never have put a Welshman in charge of a bishopric. Nevertheless, Geoffrey’s loyalties must have
been divided, and this has to be borne in mind when studying his
Historia.