Review by Keith J Matthews
"His main thesis is
that it's not really very important to know whether Arthur is an
historical, legendary or mythical figure. He's not convinced that we can
ever know, although he suggests that if we want an historical prototype, L
Artorius Castus is a possibility (though he urges caution: there may be
other Artorii whom we don't yet know about who fit the pre-Galfridian
stories even better).
"He starts by
dissecting Arthurian scholarship during the twentieth century and no-one
is really spared, so it's not just the usual bashing of Alcock and Morris.
What he's trying to do is to build up a picture of how historians went
from complete scepticism about a fifth/sixth-century Arthur in the late
nineteenth century to a consensus about his shadowy existence in the
mid-twentieth century and to almost complete silence at the end of the
century. He sets this against the competing germanising and indigenous
paradigms of the Anglo-Saxon settlement, showing how the effect of two
wars against Germany in the first half of the twentieth century led to the
demise of the view that the Britons were powerless against the vigorous
German warriors and the growth of a view best expressed by John Morris,
that saw Britain standing defiantly alone against the treacherous Germans
under its inspirational leader, Arthur.
"Next, he looks
critically at the texts that are used to position the fifth/sixth-century
historical Arthur. He usefully points out that the many different versions
of the historical Arthur hypothesis use exactly the same texts but reach
wildly differing conclusions. He suggests that this is because they are
using the texts in the wrong way. Early medieval scholarship did not
produce 'historical' narratives, nor were their chronicles passive records
of annual events: the texts we possess all have a moral purpose. Higham
expands on the view of insular historians as producing 'providential'
history that he has developed elsewhere. Patrick and Gildas both interpret
British politics using specifically Old Testament models of the Britons as
God's chosen people. The text of Gildas, he suggests, is based directly on
the structure of Jeremiah 24 onwards and Daniel 7, so that the
fifth-century disaster is an exact parallel of the destruction of Judah
and Jerusalem. He points out that Paul the Deacon uses almost identical
language to characterise the Lombard invasion of northern Italy. In other
words, it is entirely illegitimate to use Gildas to write history. We then
find Bede cast as the villain who does precisely that. Higham then goes on
to assert that the "Historia Brittonum" was written as a riposte
to Bede's version of fifth- and sixth-century history. I find this the
least convincing part of the book, but no matter. He argues that the
author needed to show the Britons as capable of resisting the Saxons (so
we have Vortimer and Arthur wheeled out as British champions). This is
developed further in a later chapter.
"Higham then looks at
what can be reconstructed of the history of the fifth and sixth centuries
from the physical evidence. Here, he is weak, because he does not seem to
engage with any of the recent debates about the meaning of germanising
material culture found in graves and assumes, without caveat, that the
distribution of 'Pagan Saxon' burials is an accurate reflection of the
distribution of 'Pagan Saxons'. Be that as it may, he demonstrates that
there is no 'halt' to the westward expansion of the area in which these
graves are found, but rather that there develop three broad zones: the
'Saxon zone' in the east, where 'Pagan Saxon' burials are found, a
'Christian British zone' in the west, in which inscribed memorial stones
and imported Gaulish and Mediterranean pottery are found, and a 'Middle
Band', in which none of these material signifiers are to be found. He
interprets this as evidence for a 'quiescent British Christianity' in the
'Middle zone', contrasting with the 'confrontational Christianity' of the
west. This is an interesting view, which I believe to be well worth
exploring in greater depth. What is particularly useful here is the
demonstration that archaeology absolutely does not provide the 'smoking
gun' that points to the existence of an Arthur around this time.
"Next, Higham looks at
a number of 'prototype Arthurs'. He asserts that the name as we have it
must derive from Latin Artorius, objecting that the Brittonic *Artowiros
would have developed into *Arthwr in Middle Welsh. We're familiar on this
list with the complexities surrounding this issue, so Higham's confidence
is misplaced. However, he mentions the usual later sixth-century Arthurs
and places them in a genealogical context that shows them to have Irish
connections, but at a time when there was a predominance of names of Latin
origin rather than Brittonic. I'd have liked to see some statistics here,
as my impression of the early genealogies is that the Latin-derived names
are rare, except for characters whose historicity is in question. He
rejects utterly the identification of the 'Arthur of history' with
Riothamus and urges caution over L Artorius Castus. What he does point to
is the number of other Brittonic names containing the Arth- element. He
then moves on to examine an association with bears and mythology. He
points out that the majority of 'Arthur' placenames are in areas that are
wild and often inaccessible, formerly heavily forested. He raises the
possibility (originally mooted in the nineteenth century) that Arthur was
in origin a bear-god. He helpfully concludes the chapter with the comment
that "this discussion has predictably been inconclusive."
"Next, he turns back to
Bede's use of Gildas. He points out that Bede's 'providential history',
whilst using Gildas as the framework for the fifth and sixth centuries,
carefully excises any reference to the Britons as God's chosen people,
replacing them with the very monsters Gildas had portrayed as God's
instrument of testing: the Angles and Saxons. Bede seized on every
complaint Gildas made about his fellow-countrymen to portray them as
morally inferior, weak and indolent. Far from being God's chosen,
according to Bede, the Britons were apostates and heretics; Higham
compares Bede's treatment of the Britons with early Christian writers'
treatment of the Jews (I suspect that there's a further parallel that
Higham hasn't picked up on: if the Angles and Saxons are the 'New Israel',
then the Britons are the Canaanites). He credits Bede with the wholesale
invention of Englishness, suggesting that there was no sense of national
identity before the "Historia Ecclesiastica", which was written
as a polemical tract to establish such an identity. I think he goes too
far in this, although there is no doubt that Bede's 'ethnography' of the
English is both wrong and hugely influential. However, setting Bede
against the context of Mercian politics in the eighth century raises some
interesting points about the construction of national identities. In
HIgham's view, the east had always contained a majority British
population, albeit dominated by Saxon élites, but Bede's new ethnography
gave the expansionist policies of Mercia a new 'racial' twist (I use the
term 'race' knowing it is no longer acceptable anthropologically, but
because that is how the situation was framed in the eighth century, when
primordialism and biblical models were the norm). Whilst acculturation had
occurred in Higham's 'Middle zone', the people of the west and north were
much more concerned about 'becoming English', especially as kings like
Æthelbald and Offa started referring to themselves as rulers of Britain,
not just the English. He links this with a discourse of imperialism,
visible in Bede and charters, that casts the Anglo-Saxons as the natural
successors to Rome and therefore the rightful rulers of the former Roman
diocese of Britanniae; the Britons had been a subject people before, they
could be again.
"In this context, then,
Higham argues that the "Historia Brittonum" was written, as an
attempt to reclaim the past in a specifically post-colonial mode of
writing literature. The work was written following the catastrophic
collapse of Mercian hegemony in the 820s. He follows Dumville's rejection
of the 'Nennian preface' to the work (quite correctly, in my view) but
rejects his view of it as a synchronistic history, preferring to see it as
the third insular 'providential history' and a direct reply to Bede's
merciless recasting of Gildas. The author makes the Britons the earliest
people to settle in Britain, preceding the Scots, the Picts and the hated
Saxons. They therefore had a greater moral right to this island than these
foreign peoples. Cunedda is dissected as a prototype for the second
dynasty of Gwynedd (Merfyn, under whom the "Historia" was
written, was its first representative), with the arrival of warlike (and
successful) leaders from the north, ruling a wide territory after
expelling foreigners from Wales (Irish in the case of Cunedda, English,
the author presumably hoped, in the case of Merfyn). The end of Roman
Britain is effected by the removal of young men by 'Maximianus' and their
settlement in Brittany; this explains why the Britons were powerless to
resist the fifth-century invaders, not the moral laxity and indolence
specified by Bede.
"The story of Vortigern
is then interpreted as an attempted to reclaim 'New Israelite' status for
the Britons, after Bede had claimed it for the Anglo-Saxons. Higham points
out how the author repeated stresses the biblical numbers three and forty,
with Germanus as a Christ-like figure and Vortigern as Satan. In this
context, the confrontation of Germanus and Vortigern absolves the Britons
of any moral blame or charge of heresy; at the same time, the association
of Vortigern with Powys is a political statement reinforcing the status of
Gwynedd. The story of Hengest and Vortigern is then intended to put the
Saxons in the worst possible light, showing them as treacherous, believing
themselves to be descended from an idol and having a name derived from
'knife'. The author turns Bede's characterisation of the Britons and
Saxons on its head: the Britons rally under Vortimer, whilst the Saxons
flee to their ships 'like women'. The loss of Britain occurred not through
their inability to fight back, but through Hengest's treachery and ransom
of Vortigern.
"Next comes St Patrick.
He is portrayed as a figure of Mosaic stature, a Briton bringing the light
of God to the Irish, an exemplar of British Christianity to set against
Bede's charges of heresy and isolation from mainstream Christianity. He is
followed by Arthur, the archetypal, triumphant British war hero. If
Patrick was the new Moses, then Arthur is Joshua son of Nun, a conquering
hero who was never king, but defeated many kings and, in the Vulgate
(Judges 1), Joshua is called 'dux belli'! Higham suggests that Arthur was
credited with twelve battles because Joshua's battles occur within the
first twelve chapters of the Book of Joshua and because there were twelve
tribes of Israel. The battle-list is nothing more than a compilation of
battles taken almost willy-nilly from the past and stitched together in a
biblical-style narrative. Higham suggests that the manipulation of this
figure militates against acceptance of Castus as the prototype, as it
would involve rejecting any sort of chronological or historical context to
which his stories were previously cast. Higham argues that the historicity
of Arthur is irrelevant: the "Historia Brittonum" needed a
Joshua figure and invented one, using a name that was well known but
hitherto unlocatable in time.
"After Arthur's
victories, the "Historia Brittonum" then has to explain why the
English prevailed and became dominant in the sixth and seventh centuries.
He explains this by reference to their bringing in huge numbers of their
relatives from Germany. This also enables the author to turn to Bede to
provide the framework for what follows. But it is a framework that has
been deliberately distorted; the conversion of Northumbria is effected by
a Briton and the authority of the Mercian dynasty is undermined by making
Penda's success the result of treachery and witchcraft.
"Higham then interprets
the Pillar of Eliseg at Valle Crucis as a reply by the rulers of Powys to
the "Historia Brittonum". The presentation of Vortigern here as
a founding figure, one who can lend authority and legitimacy to the
present dynasty, stands in stark contrast to the account in the "Historia
Brittonum". From this, Higham concludes that the figure of Vortigern
was highly contested and that we cannot use either 'document' as a means
of understanding the historical Vortigern.
"Next, Higham turns to
the "Annales Cambrie", heroic poetry, Asser and the "Armes
Prydein". He attempts to show that Arthur remained a marginal figure
in British literature between the time of the "Historia Brittonum"
and c 1000 and that where he occurs (with two exceptions), it is as a
character out of time, lacking historical context, associated with
mythology and magic. Only in the "Annales Cambrie" is he given
any semblance of historicity, and this is a work that is heavily indebted
to the vision of history presented by the "Historia Brittonum".
Higham suggests that this development occurred in the reign of Hywel Dda,
based on the mistaken belief that this Arthur was an ancestor of his wife
Elen and their son Owein, confusing the Arthur ap Pedr of Harleian
Genealogy 2 with the fictional character of the "Historia Brittonum".
Once again, he argues, this is providential history: the combination of
the Joshua-Arthur's blood with Cunedda-Maelgwn's blood in Owein ap Hywel
Dda offered new hope to the Britons.
"Higham then traces the
development of the Arthurian legend into the High Middle Ages. He suggests
that Arthur developed continental campaigns in legend to account for an
imperial status that he appeared to be credited with in the "Historia
Brittonum" as a ruler over kings. The petty wars against the Saxons
were scarcely imperial in nature, so logic demanded that he fight his
major campaigns elsewhere, as developed in the Life of St Goueznovius and
"Culhwch ac Olwen". Geoffrey of Monmouth expanded on this figure
to make Arthur a cultural icon, a symbol of an earlier insular king who
had built up a continental Empire. Higham then traces the growing cult of
Arthur, increasing scepticism about his historicity during the later
Middle Ages and demolition during the Enlightenment. He ends the chapter
by quoting the wonderful conflation of Arthur and Alfred by Sellar and
Yeatmen in "1066 and all that".
"His final chapter,
called a "postscript" deals with what he terms the 'rhetorical
Arthur', the character who is manipulated by contemporary political
concerns by authors from the anonymous author of the "Historia
Brittonum" to the followers of John Morris, whose works have
generally been neglected by scholarly historians. He then turns to the Big
Question: 'did King Arthur really exist?'. I won't give the answer away,
as it's like revealing the end of a thriller in a review, which would be
completely unfair.
"My impression of the
book is that it is generally well written, as one would expect from one of
the most prolific historians of his generation, and closely argued. It's
bound to upset those who desperately want an historical Arthur to be
situated c 500; he talks about the emotional attachment that people have
to 'their' particular versions of Arthur and analyses the reasons for it."
Keith Matthews
by N. J. Higham
