King Arthur
The World of The Stolen Throne- Part IV – Seaside Fortress: The Mystery of Tintagel Castle
Welcome back to The World of The Stolen Throne.
In Part III, we looked the Arthurian sites on Bodmin Moor that inspired part of The Stolen Throne. If you missed it, you can read that HERE.
In Part IV, we’re going to be taking a brief look at one of the major settings in The Stolen Throne. It is a place that is firmly entrenched in Arthurian myth and legend, but also in the history of Dumnonia itself. Let us visit the dramatic site of Tintagel Castle.
And as he [Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall] was under more concern for his wife than himself, he put her into the town of Tintagel, upon the sea-shore, which he looked upon as a place of great safety… The king [Uther Pendragon], informed of this, went to the town where Gorlois was, which he besieged, and shut up all the avenues to it. A whole week was now past, when, retaining in mind his love to Igerna, he said to one of his confidants, named Ulfin de Ricaradoch: “My passion for Igerna is such that I can neither have ease of mind, nor health of body, till I obtain her: and if you cannot assist me with your advice how to accomplish my desire, the inward torments I endure will kill me.”—”Who can advise you in this matter,” said Ulfin, “when no force will enable us to have access to her in the town of Tintagel? For it is situated upon the sea, and on every side surrounded by it; and there is but one entrance into it, and that through a straight rock, which three men shall be able to defend against the whole power of the kingdom. Notwithstanding, if the prophet Merlin would in earnest set about this attempt, I am of opinion, you might with his advice obtain your wishes.”
(Historia Regum Britanniae, Geoffrey of Monmouth, Book 8, 19)
The words above are what set Tintagel Castle firmly on the map of Arthurian myth and legend, associating it the birth of the figure we have come to know as King Arthur.
If you have read the stories, or seen movies such as Excalibur, you will be familiar with this setting.
But what exactly was Tintagel Castle?
In The Stolen Throne, the latest novel in the Eagles and Dragons series, which takes place during the third century A.D., it is the ancestral seat of one of the main characters, a prince of Dumnonia. But was it in use at this time? What is the evolution of this mysterious place?
In this post, we’re going to look at Tintagel Castle itself, some of the remains and finds, and how archaeology has brought to light new and exciting theories about this fascinating place of myth and legend.
The name of Tintagel actually comes from the Celtic name ‘Din Tagell’, which means ‘Fortress of the Narrow Entrance’. Most believe that this refers to the mainland approach which was by way of a narrowed, defensible passage at first between embankments, and later through the medieval gatehouse.
Tintagel is located on the north coast of Cornwall in one of the most dramatic settings around. From the narrow part of the mainland that forms the approach, one had to cross a bridge high above a rocky chasm to reach the castle rock itself, which juts out into the sea. The castle sits 250 feet above the rough water.
This place was meant to be impenetrable, if not practical.
Most of what is visible today, including the romantic ruins of the inner courtyard and great hall were built by Richard, Early of Cornwall after 1233. It has been suggested that as Tintagel was such a weatherbeaten and impractical place to build and live, Earl Richard may have done so only to maintain a connection with the prestige of its Arthurian past which was firmly believed at that time, a hundred years after Geoffrey of Monmouth’s medieval bestseller put Tintagel on the map.
The impressive medieval ruins include the mainland gatehouse and courtyard, the island courtyard and great hall, as well as a chapel, tunnel and walled garden on the summit of the plateau.
They are some of the most romantic ruins in Britain.
Despite the fact that Tintagel castle was a difficult place to build, with the slate foundations of the rock being constantly eroded by the lashing sea, it seems to have played an important part in Dumnonia’s history.
Before we get to the Arthurian connection, let’s discuss what might have been happening at Tintagel during the Roman period.
In The Stolen Throne, I had to take some poetic license when it came to the structures that were located on the castle rock. However, there was, it seems, activity at Tintagel during the Iron Age and years of the Roman occupation of Britain.
Tintagel, during the Roman period, was a small settlement on the very edge of the Roman Empire. It has been suggested that it may be the place known as ‘Durocornovium’, a place mentioned on a list of Roman roads (though a location near Swindon seems more likely).
Nevertheless, archaeologists believe that during the 3rd century A.D. a small village or settlement may have been established on the mainland facing the castle rock, around the area of the narrow approach to the island.
Tintagel was part of Dumnonia and seems to have received little attention from the Roman authorities based at Isca Dumnoniorum (modern Exeter). That is, until it was discovered that the land in Dumnonia was rich in tin, and mining operations began.
There was no Roman settlement at Tintagel, but a Roman road did pass nearby, presumably giving access to the mines and few forts located in that part of Britain. Further proof of the roads is available in the form of two Roman milestones to either side of Tintagel, on the mainland.
No Roman buildings have been found at Tintagel castle as yet, but it should be noted that only about 5% of the castle area has been excavated. Who knows what remains lie beneath the grass and soil of that windswept rock jutting out into the sea?
Despite the lack of buildings, some of the most exciting Roman finds to come out of the ground at Tintagel are a purse containing Roman coins and, more importantly, a huge quantity of Romano-British and Mediterranean pottery.
The amount of Mediterranean pottery discovered at Tintagel from the 3rd century to the Dark Ages is said to be a greater quantity than the total amount that has been discovered from all other Dark Age sites in Britain put together. It is believed that this points firmly to habitation at Tintagel castle in the third and fourth centuries A.D.
The presence of such prestige goods at Tintagel means not only that it was an important place for the rulers of Dumnonia, but also that it was an important place for trade on the sea routes from the continent to the western isles and northwest Britain.
The sandy beach below Tintagel castle, known as ‘the Haven’, made it possible for ships to unload safely, but this was not the only place they could unload.
Farther away from the shore, clinging to the rocky sides of the island, the remains of a defended wharf have been discovered. This is known as the ‘Iron Gate’, and up the slope from this are the remains of Dark Age houses where huge amounts of broken pottery have been discovered, as well as Roman glass.
One cannot, however, speak of Tintagel castle and not think of the Arthurian legend. This is why most people visit Tintagel. As the supposed birthplace of King Arthur, as told by Geoffrey of Monmouth, it has an inescapable draw.
But what was here during the Dark Ages, that period between the departure of the Romans from Britain and the invasion of the Saxons.
Several Dark Age ruins have been discovered in excavations over the years on Tintagel rock, including the houses near the defended wharf, and a cluster of buildings on the northern end of the plateau overlooking the sea. However, as only 5% of Tintagel has been excavated, who knows what else remains to be found.
There is another problem however…
Erosion.
Over the centuries, Tintagel rock has been deteriorating due to weathering, and it is believed that some of the ruins from various periods of its habitation, including the Dark Ages, have fallen into the sea to be lost forever.
From what has been found and studied, however, what might the possible uses been? What was happening at Tintagel castle?
An early theory put forward by Dr. Ralegh Radford, who excavated the site in the 1930s, was that Tintagel was an early monastic settlement, perhaps established by St. Julian or St. Juliot one of the sons of the Dark Age Welsh king, Brychan, in the 5th century.
However, more recently, new theories have dismissed Radford’s monastic theory in favour of one that says Tintagel castle was the settlement of Dumnonia’s elite, the home of a king or ruler of some sort, as well as his entourage and war-band.
This is supported by the pottery finds dating to the period and coming from places like North Africa and Greece which were still a part of the Roman Empire at that time. These luxury items – mainly wine, olives and olive oil – meant that a person of wealth with connections to Rome may have lived at Tintagel. Even if much of the rest of Britain had lost contact with the former Empire during the Dark Ages, Tintagel castle seems to have maintained ties.
With the discovery in 2016 of several Dark Age houses containing Mediterranean pottery and glass, and the finding in 2017 of a slate window ledge with Latin, Greek and Celtic writing, which dated to the 7th century A.D., it seems that Tintagel castle remained a busy and important place.
In 1998 however, one of the most tantalizing artifacts to be found at Tintagel was a piece of slate with the name of ‘Artognou’ written upon it. As ever, the story of Tintagel castle comes back to its connection with Arthur.
And why not? Arthur is a powerful draw, a hero at the heart of Britain’s mythology and history.
As someone who has always loved tales of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, and who has focussed on Arthurian studies for most of his academic career, the Arthurian connection is what brought me to Tintagel in the first place as well.
For years, I had been dreaming of visiting this dramatic location where Merlin was supposed to have helped Uther Pendragon reach Igraine and conceive the once and future king of Britain.
When the opportunity to visit finally came, I jumped at the chance.
What was it like to finally arrive at Tintagel castle?
It was magical.
While living in Somerset, I decided to take a trip to Cornwall – a sort of Arthurian pilgrimage – during a rainy February. The landscape was no less dramatic than I had imagined, and there were very few tourists around.
In our car, we headed west from Exeter, skirting the northern edge of Dartmoor in the direction of Bodmin, the same as my Roman protagonist in the story.
Even then, the seeds of The Stolen Throne were bound to take subconscious root.
Driving through the landscape really was like driving through another world, especially when it came to Bodmin moor. We arrived at the village of Tintagel, checked into our B&B and went out straight away to find our destination.
It was strange walking there from the village, anticipatory and dreamy with the misty rain falling all around us. To our right, the lonely silhouette of the Camelot Castle Hotel stood silent sentry on the approach, at that time seemingly deserted.
There were very few people or cars around as we walked along Castle Road, the sound of the sea becoming more audible and then, there it was – Tintagel’s castle rock.
I had waited so long to see that place, I simply stood there staring at its beauty, its mythological wildness. What a setting! At that time, Lucius Metellus Anguis (my protagonist) was still in Africa and Rome (I had only written Children of Apollo at that point) but I knew that he would, someday, make his way there.
As we approached the castle, we decided to go down to the Haven first, led there by Castle Road and the Southwest Coastal footpath. From the beach we looked up at Tintagel Castle in awe. To attack the place would be sheer madness, but to live there perhaps more so.
The sea was not calm, nor was it violent, but as we walked across the beach the gaping maw of Merlin’s Cave opened before us and the myths came alive at once.
I stood on that beach remembering the image I had seen of Merlin standing upon that beach with the baby Arthur at his feet.
Now, I do believe there was a historical ‘Arthur’, but I also know that the history has been mythologized perhaps more than any other tale in western literature. However, as I stood there upon the beach, Merlin’s Cave before me, and the ruins of Tintagel Castle looming above my head, the line between history and legend definitely began to blur.
It was a magnificent feeling.
Sometimes, we need to let go of our thinking, to step out of the academic realm in order to feel, and in doing so, we experience history more fully, for tales were as much a part of our ancestors’ beliefs as fact, if not more so. They were facts!
Why did Earl Richard build the medieval castle in such an inconvenient place? Perhaps he too wanted to be a part of the myth and history that clung to the cliffs of Tintagel, to be close to Arthur and Merlin, to Mark, Tristan and Isolde…
The tide started come in and we were caught off guard by the water on the beach. Making a quick escape, we retreated from the Haven and began making our way up to the narrow entrance that gives Tintagel its name, to cross the bridge that soars over the chasm below.
We lingered in Tintagel’s most recognizable ruins for a time, the area of the medieval court and hall before carrying on along the path that wound its way up to the summit plateau, passing the remains of the Dark Age houses on the eastern slope above the Iron Gate’s wharf.
Once we reached the top, we were met with a broad, windswept expanse of green beneath an iron grey sky. We wandered around the northern ruins, remnants of the Dark Ages, and then took in the medieval chapel, garden, and tunnel.
But, at Tintagel, for me, it is the setting that is king, the story behind it all. As I stood in the middle of the plateau with my wife, taking in the site, the symphony of sound that was performed by the waves, wind and crying gulls, I let the place seep into me.
I’ve had few experiences like that, though I have been to many places.
In my mind, and in my writing in some way, shape or form, I’ve been back to Tintagel Castle many times since that moment when I stood in the middle of the summit plateau, near the spot where ancient kings of Dumnonia were crowned.
I felt something of what it was like to complete a pilgrimage. And that is what it was to me. History, myth and legend are, in a way, my own private religion.
Leaving the castle rock of Tintagel behind as we walked back to the village to immerse ourselves in the Arthuriana of King Arthur’s Great Halls, I didn’t feel the usual bittersweetness of leaving a place behind.
As we walked, I turned to look back one more time at Tintagel Castle and felt…well…complete.
Would that we could all feel so complete on our journey through the dark wood of this life.
When it came time to write The Stolen Throne, my time at Tintagel flowed into the story as if I had visited only yesterday. I could not have imagined any other setting for that part of the Eagles and Dragons series.
Will my Roman protagonist ever return there? That remains to be seen, but in the annals of my mind, I shall return there often.
Thank you for reading.
For more information on Tintagel Castle, visit this website set up by English Heritage: https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/tintagel-castle/history-and-legend/
The Stolen Throne is now available in e-book and paperback from all major on-line retailers. If you haven’t read any books in the Eagles and Dragons series yet, you can start with the #1 bestselling A Dragon among the Eagles for just 0.99! Or get the first prequel novel, The Dragon: Genesis, for FREE by signing-up for the newsletter HERE.
The World of The Stolen Throne – Part III – An Ancient Landscape: Arthurian Sites on Bodmin Moor
Welcome back to The World of The Stolen Throne.
Last week, in Part II, we looked at the Roman presence in Cornwall and the few remains that have been discovered. If you missed that post, you can read it HERE.
In Part III, we are going to leave the world of Rome behind to explore the more mysterious past of ancient Cornwall – the Arthurian past.
The Stolen Throne, in a way, is a book of three worlds. It explores two of my own passions as an author and historian: Roman history, and Arthurian studies.
In fact, the novel and its setting was greatly influenced by Arthurian sites in Cornwall, as well as by Celtic mythology.
In this short post, we’ll be taking a brief look at some of the Arthurian sites in Cornwall that inspired some of the settings in this latest Eagles and Dragons novel.
My own love of Arthurian studies has been with me from the beginning. It captured my imagination as a child in the form of stories, and was the focus of my academic studies in later years.
Just as the land of Dumnonia (Cornwall) is a sort of liminal space in The Stolen Throne, the Dark Ages, or Arthurian period is, to me, a liminal space and time between the Classical and Medieval eras.
Some years ago, before moving back to Canada from Britain, I had the opportunity one rainy February to tour Cornwall for the first time. This was more than just a nice trip for me, it was a pilgrimage of sorts. I had dreamt of visiting several Arthurian sites in Cornwall for years, and when the chance came to do so, I jumped at it.
It was wintry and crisp when we left Somerset and drove through Devon that February, skirting the northern edge of Dartmoor and heading deeper into Dumnonia, just as the protagonists in The Stolen Throne did, leaving the world of Rome and Isca Dumnoniorum behind.
Cornwall was different, mild and misty. Rain began to fall and did not stop, and the landscape was like no other I had seen before.
The land cast a spell over me.
Cornwall is covered in ‘Arthurian’ sites, including early monastic settlements, memorial stones, earthworks and more, but the sites I wanted to visit most were concentrated on that wondrous landscape of Bodmin Moor, a place of grassland and downs where the horizon is pierced by rocky tors, formations that make it a world unto itself.
Arthur is a part of the landscape here, of its historical and mythological DNA, with places named Arthur’s Chair, and Arthur’s Oven, or Arthur’s Bed. For an Arthurian enthusiast, Cornwall is one vast adventure or hunt upon the windswept moors.
One of the first places we sought was none other than Dozmary Pool.
Dozmary Pool is one of the places in Arthurian tradition that is associated with Excalibur.
It is a tarn (a mountain lake) 900 feet above sea level, in the middle of Bodmin moor. Where it sits, surrounded by open grassland and hills, Dozary Pool is, perhaps, one of the most mysterious places I have ever been too.
No doubt that is due to the tales it has been cloaked in over the centuries. Local lore, for a long time, said that the pool was bottomless, until it dried up in 1859, but the place continued to be a place of mystery.
And you can feel it.
To the ancient Celts, pools were often sacred, the water spirits who watched over them to be respected, and feared. Offerings, sometimes in the form of weapons, were made at such pools.
There was one such offering that I had in mind as I parked my car and took the footpath to the shore of Dozmary Pool…
In Arthurian legend, at the end of the cycle, after the bloody battle of Camlann where Arthur receives his fatal wound, Sir Bedivere, at Arthur’s bidding, takes the sword Excalibur and throws it (after two attempts) into a body of water to return it to the Lady of the Lake.
In the ancient land of Dumnonia, Dozmary Pool is that lake.
Whether the story is true or not, as I approached the calm water of Dozmary Pool, I felt the spell of myth and legend grab hold of me in a way that I had never before experienced. I stood there, playing the scene over and over again in my head, of a battle-worn warrior standing at the edge of the water with his fallen king’s sword in his hand, gathering the courage to offer up Excalibur to the dark depths before him.
Even as the rain beat down on me, I felt a sense of calm in that place as my eyes scanned the rippling surface and the line of the shore with the hills rising in the distance.
It was a lonely and beautiful place.
After some time, I turned to pull myself away, to carry on with my journey, and was met by a curious monster-of-a-horse (perhaps a shire or sport horse?) towering over me, seeming to stare down at me wondering what I was up to. I looked up at him, and reached to touch his neck. He leaned into me as I took one last look at the sacred pool spread out before us.
It was not easy to leave Dozmary Pool or my new friend behind, but there were other places to visit on my Arthurian pilgrimage. I walked back up the footpath where rain cascaded down and around me toward the pool. I turned again, one more time, to glimpse the water before getting in the car and driving away.
The next destination we sought could only be reached by a circuitous, 19 mile route across Bodmin, but it was one that I had longed to see for years.
It wasn’t a place where any great scene from Arthurian legend had taken place, such as at Dozmary Pool. However, from the images I had seen over the years, the setting called to me, as did the name of Arthur’s Hunting Lodge.
Also known as Arthur’s Hall, Arthur’s Hunting Lodge is a stone enclosure on Bodmin Moor near to Mount Pleasant, Garrow Tor, and Hawks Tor.
To visit this site, you need to park the car near St. Breward and take a foot path across the moor for a short distance.
The walk is magnificent.
This section of Bodmin Moor is crossed by an ancient highway dotted with markers in the form of short standing stones. As you walk, across it, there is a sort of thrumming in the air, just beneath the sound of the wind. It feels like history is speaking to you.
The setting for Arthur’s Hunting Lodge is magical, and the site itself fascinating.
Set in the middle of the moor, this rectangular structure has walls that are formed by great slabs of granite jutting out of the grass and moss-covered earth. It is 60 feet long and about 35 feet wide. The floor of the ‘lodge’ is also lined with granite slabs.
It is believed to have prehistoric origins, but was used over the centuries as a shelter or as a water reservoir upon the moor.
There are many similar sites associated with Arthur across Britain. Some may have links to the historical Arthur, and many may be the stuff of legend.
However, standing among the ruins of this ancient site, I could see how this ancient association with Britain’s greatest hero, in a land long-tied to him, could grab hold of the imagination.
As the wind sang all around me in that isolated place, I could begin to see Arthur and his men resting here while hunting deer on the surrounding moorlands.
It is a place where one can leave the cares of the world behind.
And I can understand that…
How many times have you visited an ancient site and wished you could remain there in calm, comfortable silence with the past?
Arthur’s Hunting Lodge, for me, was such a place.
But as I stood beside the leaning stone slabs of the walls of the lodge, and looked to the rise in the land to the north called Arthur’s Downs, I knew I could not stay.
What I did not know is that one of the most poignant scenes in The Stolen Throne would later be set in that place.
The fight began and immense slaughter was done on both sides. The loses were greater in Mordred’s army and they forced him to fly once more in shame from the battlefield. He made no arrangements whatsoever for the burial of his dead, but fled as fast as ship could carry him, and made his way towards Cornwall.
Arthur was filled with great mental anguish by the fact that Mordred had escaped him so often. Without losing a moment, he followed him to that same locality, reaching the River Camblan, where Mordred was awaiting his arrival…
It is heartrending to describe what slaughter was inflicted on both sides, how the dying groaned, and how great was the fury of those attacking. Everywhere men were receiving wounds themselves or inflicting them, dying or dealing out death…
They [Arthur’s forces] hacked a way through with their swords and Arthur continued to advance, inflicting terrible slaughter as he went. It was at this point that the accursed traitor [Mordred] was killed and many thousands of his men with him…
Arthur himself, our renowned King, was mortally w0unded and was carried off to the Isle of Avalon, so that his wounds might be attended to. (Geoffrey of Monmouth, History of the Kings of Britain, xi,2)
Like many ancient myths and legends, the end of the Arthurian cycle is one of tragedy.
No matter how many times I read stories about Arthur and his knights, even though I know how it ends, I always hope that things will go differently, that Arthur will win out against the odds, that might will truly remain on the site of right.
But the story is a tragedy, and that is why a part of me approached the next site on our itinerary with some trepidation.
Ten miles to the north of Arthur’s Hunting Lodge lies Slaughterbridge, one of the possible sites of the Battle of Camlann, Arthur’s last battle.
It is difficult to explain to someone how a story linked to a place for so long can affect you so deeply, even though the connection may be disputed.
However, when I say that I felt a great sadness approaching the field of Camlann at Slaughterbridge, know that I am serious.
Slaughterbridge and the battlefield of Camlann are located at a crossing over the river Camel, near the village of Camelford.
After passing through the small Arthurian centre that is on site, you come onto a broad meadow that is thought to be the site of the early sixth century battle of Camlann. As I was there in February, no one else was present, and so I could roam about that dread place at my leisure, allowing it to sink into me.
When John Leland, the Tudor antiquarian, visited here in the sixteenth century, he was told by locals that pieces of armour, rings, and brass horse harness were often found around the site.
Archaeologists in more recent years have found no such things, but there is one artifact at Slaughterbridge that ties the site to the Arthurian period.
As you walk down the slope of the hill toward the trees, you come to the river Camel where it is hidden at the bottom of a small valley.
The screams of the dead and dying men at Camlann, where the water is supposed to have turned red with their blood, have been replaced by an eerie silence. However, when you stand upon the wooden platform looking down on the gurgling river below, you can see the nine foot long ‘Arthur Stone’, a commemoration of the Battle of Camlann.
This is an interesting artifact for upon it is a Latin inscription commemorating one Latinus, son of Magarus.
The stone is not in situ, but was moved here from nearby, long ago. At one point, a confused translation led others to believe that the inscription was dedicated to ‘Atry’, or ‘Arthur’.
Though the inscription may cause confusion, the stone does indeed date to the approximate time of the Battle of Camlann, circa A.D. 537.
As I made my way across the deep green meadow of Camlann toward the dark trees that shielded the river from the world, I could see and hear the grisly sounds of Arthur’s last battle. The cries of dying men and horses filled my mind, perhaps as it did for Geoffrey of Monmouth, John Leland, Richard Carew, and later Alfred Tennyson, when they too came to that battlefield in their own times.
Did Arthur and Mordred fight their final battle here at Slaughterbridge? Was this the site of that fateful Battle of Camlann?
We will never know for certain, but for so long this place has been linked to Arthur’s end, has formed the setting for that end, that you cannot help but feel a great sadness standing there, looking down at the flowing water beneath the dark trees, and staring at the sad memorial stone of a long-dead warrior.
Like the other sites I had visited on my Arthurian pilgrimage in Cornwall, this place too would play a role in The Stolen Throne. The water of the river Camel is that liminal space where Lucius Metellus Anguis finds himself taken, a place where everything changes…
In a way, I am still haunted by my visit to Slaughterbridge.
As I left the battlefield behind, I knew I had had my fill of that bleeding piece of earth, the trees, and the water that had once run in crimson rivulets.
I turned toward the last of my destinations on that journey, the place where Arthur was supposed to have come into the world at the beginning of his life… I turned with hope toward Tintagel Castle.
Stay tuned for Part IV in The World of the Stolen Throne when we will look at the history, archaeology and legend of one of the main settings in The Stolen Throne – Tintagel Castle.
The Stolen Throne is now available in e-book and paperback from all major on-line retailers. If you haven’t read any books in the Eagles and Dragons series yet, you can start with the #1 bestselling A Dragon among the Eagles for just 0.99! Or get the first prequel novel, The Dragon: Genesis, for FREE by signing-up for the newsletter HERE.
New Release! – Historia IV – Camelot
Greetings history lovers and Arthurian enthusiasts!
Today we’re excited to announce the official launch of the next book in Eagles and Dragons Publishing’s exciting non-fiction series of books, Historia, your gateway to ancient and medieval history and archaeology.
If you haven’t seen any of the previous three Historia releases, you can check out the titles at the Non-Fiction tab of the website HERE.
Today, we’re thrilled to introduce you to the fourth volume in the Historia series…
Camelot: The Historical, Archaeological and Toponymic Considerations for South Cadbury Castle as King Arthur’s Capital
This book explores one of the most important sites in British history, archaeology and literature, a place that can, more than any other, lay claim to the name of Camelot.
The search for King Arthur and his famous capital of Camelot is a topic that has been hotly debated for over a hundred years, with many theories being put forward. It is a subject that has always been shrouded in the mist of fairy tales and legends, making the truth difficult to discover. However, there is one candidate for Camelot that shines out and brings the Arthurian legend to life: the hillfort of South Cadbury Castle.
In this book, the reader will learn not only about the evidence for a historical King Arthur, but also discover the most recent historical, archaeological, and toponymic evidence that make South Cadbury Castle the strongest contender for the title of Camelot.
Author and historian, Adam Alexander Haviaras, helps the reader to explore the possibility that King Arthur’s Camelot was not just a medieval invention, but that it was an actual place that played an important role in history and the British Heroic Age. The true Camelot of Arthur may not be what you expect, but the evidence that exists paints a clear picture of something even more exciting.
If you have an interest in ancient and medieval British history, archaeology, and Arthurian studies, or if you are on your own search for a shred of truth about King Arthur, then you will enjoy this in-depth study of one of the most important archaeological discoveries in the quest for Camelot.
After reading this book, you too may start to believe that Arthur and Camelot are not just medieval fabrications, but that they actually did exist.
As many of you already know, Arthurian studies has always been the focus of my academic career as well as at the forefront of my own, personal interests.
I firmly believe that there was a historical ‘King Arthur’ in the period after the departure of Rome from Britannia, and the Saxon invasions of the island.
But, as with many historical figures who have been turned into heroes cloaked in ages of myth and legend, it’s not easy to gain a clear picture. It is also not easy to find the true places that were linked to these heroes when they walked upon the earth.
Myth and legend keep the memory of people and places alive over the ages, but they can also confuse things and hide the truth.
There is a lot of myth and legend surrounding the capital or fortress of the historical Arthur, the place that we have come to know as ‘Camelot’. There are many candidates for the title, and the location is hotly, passionately debated among Arthurian enthusiasts.
Historia IV takes a look at the main considerations, and strong archaeological evidence, for the hillfort of South Cadbury Castle, in Somerset England, as the main contender in a wide-ranging quest for the true ‘Camelot’.
This is a site I know well.
Not only did I write part of my masters dissertation on South Cadbury Castle, but I also worked as an archaeologist in the fields surrounding the site as part of the South Cadbury Environs Project team in the early 2000s.
Historia IV summarizes all that I have learned about South Cadbury Castle and its possible links to the historical ‘Arthur’.
And it does so in an easy-to-understand, accessible way.
Included in the book are a few appendices which include maps, loads of images, a video tour of South Cadbury Castle with yours truly, and an extensive bibliography that you can work your way through should you wish to do more reading.
This truly is an exciting addition to the Historia non-fiction series!
If you are on your own quest for Camelot, or if you are simply interested in the history of Dark Age Britain and the historical ‘King Arthur’, then you will want to check out Historia IV.
If you are interested in getting a copy of this fourth book in the HISTORIA non-fiction series, you can check it out on Amazon, iTunes, Kobo, Google Play and other retailers, or by CLICKING HERE.
You can also purchase a copy directly from Eagles and Dragons Publishing on the ‘Buy Direct from Eagles and Dragons’ tab of the website, or by CLICKING HERE.
Cheers, and thank you for reading!
The World of Isle of the Blessed – Part III – Ynis Wytrin: The Place Beyond the Mists
What is the Isle of the Blessed?
There are many traditions when it comes to paradise, or a place where there is no suffering or pain. To the ancient Greeks, the Fortunate Isles, or Isles of the Blessed were a place where heroes went, a green paradise where the sun always shone. To the Romans, that was Elysium, or the Elysian Fields, the place where heroes blessed by the Gods went to spend eternity in peace.
In the latest Eagles and Dragons series novel, Isle of the Blessed, we find ourselves in a world beyond the water and mist of the Somerset levels of southern Britannia.
In Part III of The World of Isle of the Blessed, we’re looking at the history, myth and legend of the place known in Celtic myth as Ynis Wytrin, but which we know today as Glastonbury, or the legendary Isle of Avalon.
Glastonbury has always been a special place for me, not because I lived in the countryside outside the town for a few years, or because of its strong Arthurian associations, an area of study and story that I have always gravitated to.
One of the things I love about Glastonbury is the, more often than not, peaceful coming together of various beliefs through the ages.
To most, the mere mention of this town’s name will likely conjure images of wild, scantily clad or naked youths and aged hippies. You’ll think of thousands of people covered in mud as they wend their way, higher than the Hindu Kush, among the tent rows to see their favourite artists rock the Pyramid Stage at Britains’ largest music festival.
It’s a great party, but that’s not the real Glastonbury.
Removed from the fantastic orgy of the music festival, this small, ancient town in southwest Britain is a place of mystery, lore and legend. It is a place that was sacred to the Celts, pagan and Christian alike, Saxons, and Normans. For many it is the heart of Arthurian tradition, and for some it is the resting place of the Holy Grail.
Today, Glastonbury is a place where those seeking spiritual enlightenment are drawn. The New Age movement is going strong here, yet another layer of belief to cloak the place.
When I lived there, I never tired of walking around Glastonbury and exploring the many sites that make it truly unique. I’d like to share some of those sites with you, sites that are featured in Isle of the Blessed, the latest Eagles and Dragons novel.
From where I lived on the other side of the peat moors, I awoke every morning to see Glastonbury’s most prominent feature shrouded in mist – the Tor.
Tor is a word of Celtic origin referring to ‘belly’ in Welsh or a ‘bulging hill’ in Gaelic. Glastonbury Tor thrusts up from the Somerset levels like a beacon for miles around. Every angle is interesting. On the top is the tower of what was the church of St. Michael, a remnant of the 14th century. Before that, there was a monastery that dated to about the 9th century A.D.
However, habitation of this place goes much farther back in time with some evidence for people in the area around 3000 B.C. It was not always a religious centre. In the Dark Ages, the Tor served a more militaristic purpose and there are remains from this period too.
In Arthurian lore, the Isle of Avalon is a sort of mist-shrouded world that is surrounded by water and can only be reached by boat or secret path. In fact, during the Dark Ages and into later centuries, until the drainage dykes were built, the Somerset levels were prone to flooding. This flooding made Glastonbury Tor and the smaller hills around it true islands. With the early morning mist that covers the levels, this watery land would have been a relatively safe refuge for the Druids, and early Christians, Dark Age warlords and medieval monks.
In Celtic myth, Glastonbury Tor, one of the traditional gates of Annwn, the Celtic otherworld, is said to be the home of Gwyn ap Nudd, the Faery King and Lord of Annwn.
Gwyn ap Nudd is the Guardian of the Gates of Annwn, an underworld god. It is at Samhain that the gates of Annwn open. This was also the place where the soul of a Celt awaited rebirth.
If you are on the Tor at Samhain, you may hear the sound of hounds and hunting horns as the lord of Annwn emerges for the Wild Hunt of legend.
In Arthurian romance, there is a tradition of the wicked Melwas imprisoning Guinevere on the Tor. Arthur rides to the rescue, attacks Melwas and saves Guinevere. This particular story mirrors an episode in Culhwch and Olwen, one part of the Welsh Mabinogion, in which Gwythyr ap Greidawl attempts to save Creiddylad, daughter of Lludd, whom he is supposed to marry, from Gwyn ap Nudd himself.
Another even more fascinating Arthurian connection can be found in a pre-Christian version of the ‘Quest of the Holy Grail’, called the ‘Spoils of Annwn’ which was found in the ‘Book of Taliesin’. In this tale, Arthur and his companions enter Annwn to bring back a magical cauldron of plenty. In this, some say that ‘Corbenic Castle’ (the ‘Grail Castle’) is actually Glastonbury Tor. It isn’t just Herakles and Odysseus who journeyed to the Underworld!
Glastonbury Tor is not only associated with Celtic religion, myth and legend. It is also said by some to be a place of power or a sort of vortex in the land that lies along some of the key ley lines, including what is called the St. Michael ley line. The majority of sites associated with St. Michael, the slayer of Satan, along the ley line were indeed places of power and belief of the old pagan religions.
Myth and legend persist through story and place, and the Tor is a prime example of how successive traditions do not overcome each other, but rather combine to make up the various aspects of that place.
If you ever get to Glastonbury, the Tor is a definite must. Walk to the top and sit awhile. Look out over the landscape and watch the crows and magpies dive in the wind around the steep slopes. Close your eyes and listen. While you’re there, you can decide whether you are sitting on a natural formation, a ceremonial labyrinth, a hillfort, a sleeping dragon, the Gates of Annwn, or the mound where Arthur sleeps until he is needed once more. The Tor is all of these things.
Another prominent feature of Glastonbury’s landscape is known as Wearyall Hill, located on the road as you enter from the neighbouring town of Street.
Wearyall Hill is home to one of Glastonbury’s most ancient treasures – the Holy Thorn.
Across the street from the Morrison’s store, you can climb up Wearyall’s gentle slope to see a hawthorn tree known as the Glastonbury Thorn, or the ‘Holy Thorn’. One popular legend associated with Wearyall Hill and the Holy Thorn is that in the years after Christ’s death, his uncle Joseph of Arimathea came with twelve followers by boat to Glastonbury. When they set foot on the hill, tired from their journey, Joseph plunged his staff into the ground and it took root.
There is archaeological evidence for a dock or wharf on the slopes of Wearyall Hill that dates from the period. Did Joseph of Arimathea actually arrive in Britain with the Holy Grail?
Well, that depends on what you believe. And Glastonbury is just that, an amalgam of beliefs living, for the most part, in harmony, just as the Celts and early Christians did here over two thousand years ago.
Cuttings of the Thorn grow in three places in Glastonbury. What is interesting is that this variety of hawthorn is not native to Britain, but is rather a Syrian variety. Curiously, it flowers at Christmas and Easter, both sacred times of year for Pagans and Christians. Every holiday season, the Royal family is sent a clipping of this very special tree that hails from the earliest days of Christianity in Britain.
The current Thorn is not the original, but rather a descendant of the original which was burned down by Cromwell’s Puritans in the seventeenth century as a ‘relic of superstition’. How much destruction has been wrought on the ancient sites of Britain during the wars waged by Henry VIII and later Oliver Cromwell? It’s horrifying to think about.
As with all other things in Glastonbury, Wearyall Hill and the Holy Thorn do not belong solely to the Christian past.
The hawthorn tree was one of the most sacred trees to the Celts and is the sixth tree on the Druid tree calendar and alphabet. It is also known as the ‘May Tree’ because of when it blossoms most. May was sacred to the ancient Celts as the time of the festival of Beltane, a time for Spring ritual and worship of the Goddess.
In the Middle Ages, the practice of picking hawthorn boughs evolved to include dancing with them around a May Pole.
In Arthurian tradition, Wearyall Hill is associated with the castle of the ‘King Fisherman’ whom the Grail knights meet. To reach the castle, those on the quest were said to have to cross the ‘perilous bridge’ over the river of Death. To pass through the castle was to go from this world to the next.
Interesting to think that the gates to the otherworld of Annwn were believed to be just on the next hill, Glastonbury Tor.
Whatever legend or myth you believe, or don’t believe, about Wearyall Hill is up to you. The stories are many and convoluted, but such is the fate of great and sacred places of the past.
I always looked forward to my walks up the gentle slope of Wearyall Hill with the Holy Thorn drawing me up like a beacon, a friend even. Locals, Christian and Pagan believers, hold it close to their hearts.
Once at the top of the hill, I would circle the Thorn, reach out to touch its limbs, and read some of the wishes or prayers on ribbons tied to it – ‘Don’t let me lose my family,’ or ‘Thank you for making my mummy better.’ The wishes wrenched your heart, and the thanks made you smile.
When I would sit on the nearby bench at the top of the hill, I never felt alone. I would look out at the Tor and the surrounding landscape and feel tremendous gratitude. I would always leave with a sense of hope for the future, and a tie to the past.
When I returned to Glastonbury recently to film a documentary and do some research for Isle of the Blessed, I found the tree much changed from before.
In 2010, vandals took a chainsaw to the Holy Thorn in the middle of the night. In the morning, residents found their beloved tree of hope hacked to bits. A sapling was planted again in the Spring of 2013, but again, that was knocked down in the night.
I’m still in shock over this, lost in my remembrances of Glastonbury’s Thorn in full bloom on a sunlit hilltop.
But the Thorn has survived the centuries and there has been talk that new shoots have been coming up. The Royal Botanical Gardens is on the case, and so are the citizens of Glastonbury.
The Thorn and Wearyall Hill itself are not purely Christian or Pagan. They are symbols of unity, and of a common past. We should indeed cherish sites that are so revered, whether we believe in them or not.
In a way, the Thorn’s sacrifice is bringing people together. Glastonbury is still a town where Pagan and Christian live side by side.
And it is this unity that I explore in Isle of the Blessed.
I have every hope that the Thorn will blossom once again on the crest of Wearyall Hill, and that one day I’ll make the climb to say hello to a very old friend.
This next site we are going to look at is one that, like the rest of Glastonbury, is suffused with layers of history, legend, and belief.
The Chalice Well and surrounding gardens, located in a valley between Chalice Hill and the Tor, is one of those places that you don’t quite know what to make of at first. When you enter under the vine-covered pergola you are met by colour, soft light, and the gentle trickle of water playing about your senses.
You see young, wildly coloured blossoms exploding from the soil at the foot of Yew trees that have seen centuries of summers in Ynis Wytrin.
The same goes for the people visiting this place.
You will see young children frolicking like fairies at the edge of the water, adults of all ages contemplating beauty…life…death.
And you will find aged men and women, whose years are beyond the care of counting, strolling silently about the gardens. They’ll admire a particularly beautiful blossom or sit on one of the many benches hidden in private corners, perhaps remembering others they have come here with long ago. Or maybe they are just looking up at the Tor and harkening back to the tales of Arthur they loved when they too were children.
The thing about this place is its overwhelming sense of peace and harmony, from which all can benefit.
But what exactly is the Chalice Well?
Scientifically-speaking, Chalice Well is actually an iron-rich spring, the source of which is unknown. Some believe it comes from deep in the Mendip Hills to the north. The Chalice Well is where it comes out of the ground.
Springs were sacred to the ancient Celts. To those who inhabited this area from the pre-historic era on, the Well may have been a healing place beside the Tor. The waters that run red were sacred to the Goddess and were her water of life.
The spring has never failed, even in drought.
It is also believed that Glastonbury was the site of a Druid ‘college’ of instruction and that the avenue of sacred Yew trees, some still remaining in the Chalice Well gardens, were part of a processional way to the Tor, passing beside the Well.
Later legend, and the reason for the name given to the Well, relates how Joseph of Arimathea brought the Holy Grail to Glastonbury in A.D. 37. It is said that he buried the Grail near the Well and that the water runs through it, hence the redness of the water.
The Goddess’s blood was replaced by that of Christ, but the sanctity of the place remained (and remains) intact.
Of course, there is an Arthurian connection. Where you find the Grail, there too will you find Arthur and his knights.
In the 15th century, Sir Thomas Malory mentions the spring in his Morte d’Arthur when Lancelot and others are said to have retired as hermits in a valley near Glastonbury. Some believe it was this site that he referred to.
The sacred water of the Chalice Well feels like the beating heart of the gardens that surround it, and visitors, like a protective shield.
There are four places where the water surfaces in the Gardens.
The first is one of the most striking features – the well cover in the form of the Vescica Piscis.
The Vescica Piscis is an ancient symbol that represents the intersection of the material and immaterial (Natural and Supernatural) worlds. Fitting for one of the traditional gateways to Annwn.
The Chalice Well cover is made of English oak and wrought iron, and was designed after WWI by the architect and clairvoyant, Frederick Bligh Bond, who carried out the first excavations on Glastonbury Abbey.
The difference with this Vescica Piscis is that the circles are intersected by a sword, or bleeding lance, a Christian addition to this ancient symbol of power.
From the Well, the red water flows to the Lion’s Head where people can go to drink, or sit in quiet reflection while the water splashes onto a stone below.
Farther down the garden you come to a striking rich-red waterfall where the spring cascades into a pool where people can soak themselves in the healing water. This pool is another place of meditation known as Arthur’s Courtyard.
After that, the water flows past two ancient Yew trees, and a shoot of the Holy Thorn (yes, it survives!) into a pool shaped like the Vescica Piscis near where you enter the Gardens. The spring then flows away underground, beneath the Abbey and the pavement of Magdalene Street.
The red water’s healing sojourn above ground is fleeting, but for thousands of years it has brought people comfort, and peace.
Whenever I would visit Chalice Well and the gardens, my head pounding from a migraine, or the weight of a world of worries pressing me down, I would always leave feeling rejuvenated, calm, and optimistic.
Whether visitors are pagan, Wiccan, atheist, or Christian, or they adhere to some other system of belief, the Chalice Well is a place where people still believe in miracles, as they have done for thousands of years.
On the next part of our journey through Ynis Wytrin, or in insula Avalonia, we’re going to meet two very special giants.
They are tall, and broad, and green, and together they have stood the test of time. Their names are Gog and Magog.
The names of Gog and Magog will be well-known to Old Testament historians as evil powers to be overcome in the Book of Ezekiel (38-39), and in the New Testament Book of Revelation (20).
Gog and Magog also figure largely in the British foundation myths, mainly in the Historia Regum Britanniae of Geoffrey of Monmouth.
According to Geoffrey, when Brute, a descendant of the Trojan Aeneas, came to Britain in around 1130 B.C. he and his people fought a West Country giant(s) named Goemagot.
There are many other tales and places around England and Ireland associated with the giants, Gog and Magog.
In Glastonbury it is different.
The giants of which I speak are two ancient and magnificent oak trees that are tucked away in this misty isle.
They are not war, or pain, or suffering. Gog and Magog represent the last of the great oaks of Avalon. They demand nothing of the wanderer, and yet they are revered.
The association with the giants only goes so far as the names of the trees, and their size.
The short walk to the oaks from the middle of Glastonbury town is one of the most beautiful walks in the area.
Cross Chilkwell Street, near the Abbey Barn, and head up Wellhouse Lane between the slopes of the Tor and Chalice Hill. Follow the foot path into the field where you will come to the ancient trail of Paradise Lane. At the bottom of Paradise Lane, you will find Gog and Magog waiting for you.
These trees are ancient, no doubt. When they come into view, you are drawn to them as if to a comforting grandparent. You’ll find the odd ribbon tied to a branch, or a sheaf of wheat laid in offering among the sturdy limbs.
These two trees are friends to many in Glastonbury and beyond.
Gog and Magog are all that remain of an avenue of oaks that led to the Tor, and which was thought to be used as a processional way by the Druids in ages past.
Sadly, the avenue was cut down for farmland in 1906, and these two giants are all that remain.
Oak trees like Gog and Magog were sacred to worshippers of the Great Mother, and later the Druids. Before Rome and mass farming came to Britain, the whole of the south of Britain was covered in forests from Hampshire to Devon.
Oak groves were sacred, the sites of the Goddess’ perpetually burning fires and the rites of the Druids who used oak leaves in their rituals.
The sanctity of the oak was not relegated to Celtic Europe either, but also goes back to ancient Greece. At the sanctuary of Zeus at Dodona, priests would glean the will of Zeus from the rustling of the leaves in the sacred oak groves.
At Glastonbury, Gog and Magog would likely have seen many a ritual or procession.
If they could only speak in a way we could understand, I’m sure they would have some fantastic tales to tell.
Taking the walk from town, past the Tor, and down Paradise Lane to see Gog and Magog was always one of my favourite walks. Because there are no roads nearby, the sound of cars is absent, and all you can hear is the chirruping of birds and the whisper of the wind as it blows across the Somerset levels.
When I returned there to do research for Isle of the Blessed, my feet found their way there once more, whisking through the dry field grass, or squelching through the mud, until I caught that first glimpse of the two giants.
“It’s good to see you again, after so long…” I thought, feeling a great comfort and sense of gratitude.
From my days in insula Avalonia, I can still recall refreshing walks along the crest of Wearyall Hill, along the dragon’s back of the Tor, and down Paradise Lane to Gog and Magog.
However, there is another place of peace, a sanctuary in the middle of town, nestled between Wearyall Hill, Chalice Hill, and the Tor. It is Glastonbury Abbey.
The Abbey grounds, like other sanctuaries in town, are a place to get away to. You have to pay to get in, but once you walk through the arch, past another descendent of the Holy Thorn, and onto the green lawns surrounding these magnificent ruins, you are set to experience a whole new aspect of Glastonbury.
The ruins of what was once one of the largest abbeys in England rise up from the soft ground, sentry-still, surrounded by mist. ‘Majestic’ is a word I would use to describe the ruins, and ‘sad’. When you see the model of what the place looked like at its height of power and prominence, you understand.
Glastonbury abbey was not always such a soaring monument of Christianity. The lovely ruins that can be seen today are a medieval creation, the remains of which date from the twelfth to sixteenth centuries. But the place itself is said to be the site of the first Christian church and oldest religious foundation in the British Isles.
According to tradition, Joseph of Arimathea and his followers built a wattle church on the site on land he was given by the local king, Arviragus (possible ruler of South Cadbury Castle at the time) around the middle of the first century A.D.
Circa A.D. 160, two Christians named Faganus and Deruvianus are supposed to have added a stone structure on the site of what is the Lady Chapel. It is here that there is an ancient well dedicated to St. Joseph.
In the early days of Christianity in Britain, this first chapel and the well were the predecessors of the magnificent ruins of the abbey we see today. The Lady Chapel was the site of the first Marian cult in Britain, and in the words of Geoffrey Ashe “there is no rival tradition whatsoever. When all of the fantastic mists have dispersed, ‘Our Lady St. Mary of Glastonbury’ remains a time-hallowed title.”
In one of the Welsh Triads, Glastonbury is given the distinction of having a ‘perpetual choir’.
It was a place that Christians gravitated to. Indeed, several Celtic saints are said to have come here, including St. Bridget, St. David, St. Columba, and even St. Patrick whom some stories name as the first abbot of Glastonbury.
Walking the grounds of Glastonbury Abbey is a contemplative activity, like so many other spots in insula Avalonia.
It is supremely peaceful and there are all manner of flora in the gardens to add to the calm. Great trees shiver overhead when a breeze blows into town from across the Somerset levels.
You can stroll the scant remains of the cloisters and up the nave with the abbey’s stone titans looming over you. In a couple spots, you can lift a wooden cover to reveal some of the colourful tiles of the medieval abbey floor.
Then, toward the transept, you come to an unassuming outline in the grass with a plaque marking it.
This is where you meet with one of Glastonbury Abbey’s most mysterious connections.
In 1184 a fire ravaged the abbey and the monks needed to rebuild. Around the time of the fire, a Welsh bard is supposed to have revealed to King Henry II that King Arthur himself was buried within the abbey grounds.
The king passed this information on to the Abbot of Glastonbury who later ordered excavations to be carried out. In 1191, it is said that the monks found the bones of a man and a woman in a hollowed out tree trunk who were none other than Arthur, and his queen, Guinevere.
With the remains was a lead cross with the words ‘Hic Jiacet Sepultus Inclytus Rex Arturius in Insula Avallonia’ which translates as ‘Here lies buried the renowned King Arthur in the Isle of Avalon’.
The Elizabethan antiquarian, William Camden, did a sketch of the Arthur cross in the early 17th century.
A lot of doubt has been cast on the monks’ discovery with many believing that it was a hoax created by the monks to boost tourism through pilgrimage. The remains were treated as relics and later moved within the abbey during the reign of Edward I in the early 13th century.
It is important to note that the archaeologist who excavated the abbey in the 1960s, Dr. Ralegh Radford, indicated that the monks’ story might not have been that far-fetched, and that there was indeed a person of great import from the correct period buried in the graveyard just south of the Lady Chapel.
As with all things in Glastonbury, belief is always a part of the great equation.
There are other buildings associated with the abbey too, including the Abbot’s Kitchen where the Benedictine brothers would have prepared meals, and the Abbey Barn which is now home to the Somerset Rural Life Museum.
The site is lovely and inspiring. Tradition on the abbey grounds goes back ages to the very roots of Christianity in Britain and beyond, and this Christian presence comes as a surprise to the Romans who find themselves in Ynis Wytrin in Isle of the Blessed.
As I would sit on a bench, listening to the birds and the breeze, gazing upon the ruins, I would imagine St. Joseph arriving with his followers and picking out the spot for that first chapel. Perhaps they had something in common with the druids and priestesses of the goddess who might have already been there? Perhaps a common yearning for peace and truth?
It is sad that Henry VIII robbed us of the physical beauty of Glastonbury Abbey in the great Dissolution. The last abbot was dragged to the top of the Tor and beheaded by the King’s henchman, Cromwell.
For this place to function peacefully and unmolested from its earliest time, through Saxon incursions and Norman invasions, speaks to its agreed importance over the ages.
The majesty of this place may lie in ruins now, but its spirit and mystery certainly remain intact.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this post on Glastonbury and The World of Isle of the Blessed as much as I enjoyed researching, revisiting, and writing about it in the novel. It was especially inspiring to write a story set in a place people of various beliefs lived together, and then to send my Roman protagonist into their midst.
What would a Roman think of a place where pagans and Christians, including Druids, lived together in peace and harmony?
Well…to learn that, you will have to read the book.
Join us next week for Part IV of The World of Isle of the Blessed when we will be taking a look at the main historical players in the imperial court in Britannia.
Thank you for reading.
The World of Isle of the Blessed – Part I – The Dragon’s Domus
Salvete, readers and history-lovers!
Welcome to The World of Isle of the Blessed!
In this seven-part blog series, we’re going to be taking a look at the research that went into my latest historical fantasy release, Isle of the Blessed, Book IV in the #1 bestselling Eagles and Dragons series.
Over the next few weeks, I’ll take you on a journey through the world of early third-century Roman Britain in which we will look at the history, archaeology, and historical events that took place during this pivotal time in the Roman Empire in which the book is set.
In this first post, we’re taking a closer look at a site that is well-known to Arthurian enthusiasts: the hillfort of South Cadbury Castle.
At the very south ende of the chirche of South-Cadbyri standith Camallate, sumtyme a famose toun or castelle… The people can tell nothing ther but that they have hard say that Arture much resorted to Camallate. (John Leland, Royal Antiquary, 1532)
The hillfort of South Cadbury Castle in Somerset, England, is one of the major locations in Isle of the Blessed. However, most people are familiar with it as a site with strong Arthurian associations. As such, its importance and role is hotly debated.
Though Isle of the Blessed is not a story of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, it is difficult not to speak of this important Iron Age site without discussing the Arthurian connection.
Was South Cadbury Castle the power centre of the historical Romano-British warlord, or dux bellorum, we know as ‘King Arthur’? Was this the actual site of what has come to be known in the popular imagination as ‘Camelot’?
I’ve always been a strong proponent of the theory that there was in fact, an historical ‘Arthur’ who formed the factual basis for all the legends we love and cherish. So, when I look at sites such as South Cadbury, I do so with that in mind. However, that doesn’t mean that I accept a site’s association with Arthur on faith alone.
I know this site pretty well – as I studied it and wrote about it as part of my Master’s dissertation entitled “Camelot: A look at the historical, archaeological, and toponymic evidence for King Arthur’s Capital”. As part of this, I looked at three of the main candidates for Camelot that had been put forward at the time – Wroxeter (Roman Viroconium), Roxburgh Castle (in the Scottish Borders), and South Cadbury. There is a copy of the dissertation hidden somewhere in the stacks at the St. Andrews University library in Scotland.
South Cadbury Castle is also where I cut my teeth as an archaeologist as part of the South Cadbury Environs Project team for a couple of seasons under the leadership of Richard Tabor. This was a wonderful experience that helped me to get up close and personal with the site I had studied for so long – I dug test pits, got into bigger trenches in which curious cows came to watch what I was doing, carried out geophysical surveys with a magnetometer, and found some curious objects such as a bronze dolphin that formed the handle of a Roman drinking cup.
Most of all, I was given the chance to spend more time on this amazing, and yes, magical, landscape.
And a couple years ago, when doing research for Isle of the Blessed, I returned to South Cadbury where I also filmed a mini-documentary on the site (coming out later this year!).
Before I give my thoughts on wandering the slopes of South Cadbury Castle, we should have a look at what it actually is.
South Cadbury Castle is not the late medieval castle with banners flying from tall towers that make up our usual image of Camelot. It is a 500 foot high Iron Age hillfort located in the pre-Roman era lands of the Durotriges. Occupation of the site began in the Neolithic period and it went through various stages of occupation from the 5th century B.C. onward.
By the time of the Roman invasion of Britain, it had four massive defensive ramparts with an inner area of about 18 acres. Access to the top was by two entrances, one to the north-east and the other, larger one, to the south-west. The Iron Age occupation of the site came to a violent end around A.D. 43 when Vespasian stormed the southern hillforts of Britannia.
The Romans made little use of the site, though there have been some theories that it was used as a Roman supply station. This theory is explored in Isle of the Blessed and the Eagles and Dragons series. In the 3rd and 4th centuries, there was renewed activity with visits being made to a Romano-Celtic temple that was built on the site.
During excavations, a bronze letter ‘A’ was found that some believe belonged to this temple, which was perhaps dedicated to Mars, or some other deity.
However, when it comes to South Cadbury Castle, the periods that have always drawn me to it are the 5th and 6th centuries A.D. This period of the site is known as the ‘Arthurian’ period, and it is at this time, after Rome’s legions had left the island, that the archaeology shows a massive refortification of the hillfort.
Though it is much debated, South Cadbury’s association with the Arthurian period stems not just from hearsay and folklore. It has the archaeological evidence to back it up.
There have been a few big excavations of the hillfort over the years, but the biggest of all took place in the late 1960s and was headed by Professor Leslie Alcock. Professor Alcock and his team discovered evidence for a large scale occupation and refortification of the hillfort, during the Arthurian period, which showed repaired defences, including a strong gatehouse at the south-west entrance, and most importantly, several buildings, including a kitchen and a large timber hall on the fort’s high plateau.
The discovery of post holes reveals a finely-built timber hall that was on a large scale, measuring about 63×34 feet. This hall would not have been the great castle hall of late medieval romance, but rather something like the timber drinking halls of the period, more like to the Golden Hall of Meduseld, the seat of King Theoden in Lord of the Rings.
Another very telling discovery at Cadbury Castle was the large quantity of Mediterranean pottery that dates to the Arthurian period of activity. This is the same pottery type that was discovered at Tintagel Castle in Cornwall, a site that also has strong Arthurian associations. One might think that shards of pottery from wine, olives and olive oil might be pretty mundane, but they anchor the sites strongly in the period, and also show that someone of importance was associated with the site. Not everyone could afford to import such things through trade.
The refortification of the hillfort during the Arthurian period was on a massive scale, and would have required many resources and men to hold it. South Cadbury castle was, in a way, on the front lines of the British struggle against the invading Saxons, and would have been well-placed to meet the Saxons as they advanced westward.
Based on the refortification, and evidence of the gatehouse that linked the ramparts running over the cobbled road at the south-west corner, this place was likely the base for an army that was large by the standards of the period. It may have been the site of the court of the dux bellorum, or the historical Arthur.
I am only scratching the surface here, as far as the archaeological finds. For a more academic look at South Cadbury Castle, you will want to read the upcoming Historia series release Camelot: The Historical, Archaeological and Toponymic Considerations for South Cadbury Castle as King Arthur’s Capital. (Make sure you are signed-up to the mailing list be notified of that release)
South Cadbury Castle was finally abandoned in the early 11th century when it was being used as a royal mint during the reign of the Saxon king, Aethelred.
Today, South Cadbury Castle is a quiet hill in the midst of the Somerset countryside where it lies just south of the A303 motorway. The levels of its steep ring fortifications are now overgrown with trees and scrub, and cows roam the fields surrounding it.
When you visit, you pull your car into the small car park at the south end of the village of South Cadbury, just east of the hillfort. From the lane, you can’t really tell what you’re looking at. It seems like a steep, forested hill with a path leading up.
This path leads up to the north-east gate of the hillfort, and for me, it was always the gateway to another time, another realm.
It’s difficult to approach this site and reconcile the archaeologist/historian side of me with the romantic. Arthurian lore runs deep in my veins, and has had a hold on my psyche since I was very young. The first time I visited the site, I could almost hear the call of clear trumpets and the thumping of horses’ hooves upon the ground as knights returned home from their adventures, their horses brightly caparisoned, their armour shining brightly in the light of the Summer Country.
Of course, I know that is not how it was during the Arthurian period, but this is a place and story that fires the imagination. Cadbury Castle’s associations with Arthur include a hollow hill where he sleeps until he is needed again, the site of ‘Arthur’s Well’, a place on the slopes where his horse drank when he led the Wild Hunt, and of course the location of Camelot.
To me, however, the idea of South Cadbury as the main fortress of a Romano-British warlord leading a group of skilled cavalry in a last stand against the invading Saxons is no less romantic.
During my subsequent visits, I would ascend the dirt and rock path leading up to the northeast gate and pause with reverence for the history of the place. I would imagine looking ahead, up the slope to the central plateau of the hillfort to the great wooden hall where smoke from the hearth of Arthur’s hall wafted into the sky as he and his warriors discussed the fight for their lives and their Romano-British heritage.
The warriors that manned the ramparts of South Cadbury, who dined in the hall, and who rode out to meet the Saxons, have been wrapped in the fabric of myth, as much as the Isle of Avalon not ten miles distant, in Glastonbury. But they certainly left a mark on the place, on history and folklore.
As I walk the grass-covered ramparts of South Cadbury, watching the crows dive in the winds above the steep slopes, I can’t help but wonder if Arthur, Gawain, Bors, Tristan, Bedwyr, Cai and others walked that same path, a wary eye out for a sign of the enemy that would shatter the peace they had fought so hard for at the famed battle of Mons Badonicus.
Rarely have I felt so at peace and nostalgic as I have when walking around this hillfort. I can still smell the damp grass and feel the sun on my face. In my mind, I still watch the puffs of white cloud blowing over the Somerset landscape as I pause to gaze to the north-west and see Glastonbury Tor rising out of the earth.
In ages past, when the levels flooded, the distance between Cadbury Castle and Glastonbury might have been crossed by boat if you knew the way and which rivers to take. Indeed, one of the discoveries found around the hillfort was a boat.
South Cadbury Castle is, in some ways, closely tied to Avalon, and you can feel that as you look from the top of one to the other. This too is explored in Isle of the Blessed.
After making a round of the ramparts, and standing on the roadway of the south-west gate, I would always spend a good amount of time on the plateau, watching the sky and letting my imagination take hold.
The beauty of visiting a site, rather than looking at in a book or online, is that direct connection with the past, with the history of the place.
Yes, many of the stories we know and love about Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table are medieval fabrications. But I do believe that every legend has its base in fact, and so it’s a comfort to know that the layers of myth and legend are veined with elements of possible truth and history.
Many people will disagree, and that’s ok. When it comes to Arthur we will never reach a consensus.
However, considering the archaeological evidence at South Cadbury Castle, along with its location and the apparent activity during the Arthurian period, it seems quite possible that if there was an historical Arthur, he would undoubtedly have been familiar with this magnificent hillfort.
Was this just another strong point in the British defensive network? Or was it the Arthurian power centre that has come to be known as Camelot?
Whatever the answer is, it is surely fascinating, and perhaps unattainable. But then, that is what makes these historical mysteries so intriguing.
If you ever manage to roam the lands In Insula Avalonia, just be sure to make your way to South Cadbury Castle. Walk up the steep slopes, and through the gate, and know that you may just be walking in the footsteps of Arthur.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this first part of The World of Isle of the Blessed.
Be sure to tune in for Part II in which we will look the history of another setting in Isle of the Blessed: the village of Ilchester, Roman Lindinis.
Thank you for reading.
Isle of the Blessed is now available in e-book and paperback from all major on-line retailers. If you haven’t read any books in the Eagles and Dragons series yet, you can start with the #1 bestselling A Dragon among the Eagles for just 0.99! Or get the first prequel novel, The Dragon: Genesis, for free by signing-up for the newsletter HERE.
Historia II – Arthurian Romance and the Knightly Ideal
Welcome back, history-lovers!
Last week on the blog we announced the launch of Eagles and Dragons Publishing’s new non-fiction series, HISTORIA. We also introduced you to the first book in the series about Celtic archetypes in the Welsh Mabinogion. If you missed that post, you can check it out by CLICKING HERE.
This week, we’re happy to introduce you to the second volume in the HISTORIA series:
Arthurian Romance and the Knightly Ideal: A study of Medieval Romantic Literature and its Effect upon the Warrior Culture in Europe
This book explores the history and effects of one of the great literary movements in medieval Europe: Arthurian Romance.
This is not just a study of the Arthurian romances and the authors of the genre. It is a study of the true nature of chivalry and courtly love. It is also a look at a revolutionary and inspiring movement and cultural shift among the nobles of medieval Europe, one that altered perceptions of violence and the roles of men and women, influenced social change, and molded the image of the ideal knight.
In this book, the reader will learn about the origins and history of Arthurian Romance, the emergence of courtly culture, the greatest authors of Arthurian Romance, and the evolution of tournaments during the Middle Ages.
Explore the relationship between violence and the knightly ideal, and discover how medieval Arthurian Romance and its ideals may have played a role in civilizing the warrior classes of Europe and creating a new order of chivalry.
If you have an interest in medieval history and literature, Arthurian studies, or if you simply have fond memories of tales of knights and ladies, then you will enjoy this in-depth study of one of the great literary achievements of the Middle Ages.
This might come as a surprise to some of you, but my main field of study over the years has been Arthurian studies, not just the history and archaeology related to the Dark Ages and the search for an understanding of the historical ‘Arthur’, but also the romantic literature that attracted me to the Arthurian legends in the first place.
Of course, the main author that stands out is Chrétien de Troyes who really perfected and popularized the genre of Arthurian Romance.
The writings of Chrétien de Troyes not only influenced my study and perception of history, but they also influenced my own writing a great deal. Perhaps it was because I was first introduced to them at an early age, a time when I was really trying to find myself and my purpose in life, a time when I was filled to the brim with idealism.
In some ways, Arthurian Romance helped to save me from becoming too jaded with the world. It has been my sword and shield during darker times.
What is fascinating is that Arthurian Romance did indeed spark a sort of revolution during the Middle Ages, and enticed the violent knightly class to aspire to something greater than themselves.
Arthurian Romance really did create a new order of chivalry.
I’ve done a lot of research over the years, and this book summarizes much of that work in what I hope is a very accessible way.
If you are interested in getting a copy of this second book in the HISTORIA non-fiction series, you can check it out on Amazon, iTunes and Kobo by CLICKING HERE.
You can also purchase a copy directly from Eagles and Dragons Publishing on the ‘Buy Direct from Eagles and Dragons’tab of the website, or by CLICKING HERE.
Next week, we’ll introduce you to Book III in the HISTORIA series, so stay tuned for that.
Cheers, and thank you for reading!
Samhain at the Gates of Annwn
It’s the end of October, and as it is the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain I thought it would be a good idea to look a place that is both mysterious and iconic: Glastonbury Tor.
To most, the mere mention of Glastonbury will likely conjure images of wild, scantily clad or naked youths and aged hippies. You’ll think of thousands of people covered in mud as they wend their way, higher than the Hindu Kush, among the tent rows to see their favourite artists rock the Pyramid Stage.
It’s a great party, but to me that’s not the real Glastonbury.
This small town in southwest Britain is an ancient place. The real Glastonbury is a place of mystery, lore and legend. It is a place that was sacred to the Celts, pagan and Christian alike, Saxons, and Normans. For many it is the heart of Arthurian tradition, and for some it is the resting place of the Holy Grail.
Today, Glastonbury is a place where those seeking spiritual enlightenment are drawn. The New Age movement is going strong there, yet another layer of belief to cloak the place.
I lived in the countryside outside of the town for about 3 years and I never tired of walking around Glastonbury and exploring the many sites that make it truly unique.
From where I lived on the other side of the peat moors, I awoke every morning to see Glastonbury’s majestic Tor shrouded in mist.
Tor is a word of Celtic origin referring to ‘belly’ in Welsh or a ‘bulging hill’ in Gaelic. Glastonbury Tor thrusts up from the Somerset levels like a beacon for miles around. Every angle is interesting. On the top is the tower of what was the church of St. Michael, a remnant of the 14th century. Before that, there was a monastery that dated to about the 9th century A.D.
However, habitation of this place goes much farther back in time with some evidence for people in the area around 3000 B.C. But it was not always a religious centre. In the Dark Ages, the Tor served a more militaristic purpose and there are remains from this period.
In Arthurian lore, the Isle of Avalon is a sort of mist-shrouded world that is surrounded by water and can only be reached by boat or secret path. In fact, during the Dark Ages and into later centuries, until the drainage dykes were built, the Somerset levels were prone to flooding. This flooding made Glastonbury Tor and the smaller hills around it true islands. With the early morning mist that covers the levels, this watery land would have been a relatively safe refuge for the Druids, and early Christians, Dark Age warlords and late medieval monks.
In Celtic myth, Glastonbury Tor is said to be the home of Gwynn ap Nudd, the Faery King and Lord of Annwn, the Celtic otherworld.
Gwynn ap Nudd is the Guardian of the Gates of Annwn. He is an Underworld god. It is at Samhain that the gates of Annwn open. This was also the place where the soul of a Celt awaited rebirth. (Quick hint: We delve into this in the upcoming Eagles and Dragons novel, Warriors of Epona!)
If you are on the Tor at Samhain, you may hear the sound of hounds and hunting horns as the lord of Annwn emerges for the Wild Hunt of legend.
In Arthurian romance, there is a tradition of the wicked Melwas imprisoning Guinevere on the Tor. Arthur rides to the rescue, attacks Melwas and saves Guinevere. This particular story mirrors an episode in Culhwch ac Olwen, one part of the Welsh Mabinogion, in which Gwythyr ap Greidawl attempts to save Creiddylad, daughter of Lludd, whom he is supposed to marry, from Gwynn ap Nudd himself.
Another even more fascinating Arthurian connection can be found in a pre-Christian version of the ‘Quest of the Holy Grail’, called the ‘Spoils of Annwn’ which was found in the ‘Book of Taliesin’. In this tale, Arthur and his companions enter Annwn to bring back a magical cauldron of plenty. In this, some say that ‘Corbenic Castle’ (the ‘Grail Castle’) is actually Glastonbury Tor. It isn’t just Herakles and Odysseus who journeyed to the Underworld!
Glastonbury Tor is not only associated with Celtic religion, myth and legend. It is also said by some to be a place of power or a sort of vortex in the land that lies along some of the key ley-lines, including what is called the St. Michael ley-line. The majority of sites associated with St. Michael, the slayer of Satan, along the ley-line were indeed places of power and belief of the old religion.
But this is nothing new. Christians built on top of sites sacred to the pagans they were eager to overcome. What better way to symbolize your ‘victory’ than to build right on top of a site and make it yours.
‘Gates of Annwn and Gwynn ap Nudd? Let’s build a church of St. Michael on top of it! That’ll show ‘em!’
But myth and legend persist through story and place, and the Tor is a prime example of how successive traditions do not overcome each other, but rather combine to make up the various aspects of that place.
If you ever get to Glastonbury, the Tor is a definite must. Walk to the top and sit awhile. Look out over the landscape and watch the crows and magpies dive in the wind around the steep slopes. Close your eyes and listen. While you’re there, you can decide whether you are sitting on a natural formation, a ceremonial labyrinth, a hill fort, a sleeping dragon, the mound where Arthur sleeps until he is needed once more, or the doorstep of the Gates of Annwn itself! The Tor is all of these things and more.
However, no matter what you believe, one thing is certain: Glastonbury Tor remains a site of extreme beauty and mystery that is well worth a visit, even if it is just to watch the sun sink in the West.
Have a safe and happy Samhain.
The King is Dead – The Passing of an Arthur
It’s always a sad thing to hear of the passing of an artist whose work has made a lasting impression.
It seems that every year more and more names shuffle off this mortal coil, leaving us with our own perceptions of their public face, but more so the faces of the roles they played.
This morning I found out that British actor Nigel Terry passed away at the age of 69.
Many people might not know Nigel Terry at first mention. He was not necessarily a Titan of the big screen. However, he did appear in a few historical/fantasy dramas, most notably John Boorman’s 1981 film Excalibur.
I used to devour all things Arthurian, and it still is my favourite realm to visit, whether of history, literature, or archaeology.
Excalibur, based on Sir Thomas Malory’s Morte D’Arthur, will always be one of those movies that made a lasting impression upon me. The film brought to life the magic and mystery of the Arthurian legend like nothing else. It explored the nature of the king’s relationship to the land he is bound to protect, and took you on the quest with the Knights of the Round Table, from their courageous departure to find the Holy Grail, to depths of madness, despair, and pain, to the glorious attainment of the Grail, and the final confrontation at the Battle of Camlann.
Nigel Terry’s Arthur was of a different sort – naïve, daring, stern, trusting, brave, flawed, honourable. Whenever I imagine an historical Arthur in my head, it is often Nigel Terry’s face that appears.
If you have never seen the movie Excalibur, and you like Arthuriana, then you should definitely watch this movie. While you’re at it, see how many famous actors’ young faces you can spot in the cast about Nigel Terry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y3cXcS49D64
Most of Nigel Terry’s work was done on stage, but I will forever remember him in historical films. Apart from Excalibur, he was also in the wonderful screen adaptation of the play, The Lion in Winter.
When it comes to medieval history, the 12th century has always been my favourite period, and the Plantagenets the family to watch. In The Lion in Winter, Nigel Terry plays a young Prince John, son of Henry II (Peter O’Toole) and Eleanor of Aquitaine (Katherine Hepburn), and brother to Richard Lionheart (Anthony Hopkins). You will also see a young Timothy Dalton as the French King, Phillip.
This story is set at Chinon, in France, where the royal family has assembled for Christmas court and a battle of wills and verbal sparring that is really second to none. And the young Nigel Terry certainly holds his own next to the greats of the acting world.
During the 1990’s, there was an often forgotten television series called Covington Cross, in which Nigel Terry portrayed a widower knight who is trying to keep his three sons, and a willful daughter, safe from their enemies at court. Though not acclaimed in any way, I loved this show because it was a fun medieval romp, complete with drama, laughs, and of course, sword fighting. Who doesn’t like that? I was beginning my medieval studies at that time and this show with Nigel Terry at the helm, was just what I wanted to fan the spark of my interest in history, a spark which eventually turned into a full-on blaze.
One of the last things I saw Nigel Terry in was the movie Troy, where he was re-united with Peter O’Toole who played King Priam.
Nigel Terry played the high priest of Apollo in Troy, and though he did not have a major role, you were drawn to his strong screen presence, despite the heavy hitters all around him.
That’s the thing with historical dramatizations – there always seem to be regulars in the cast, people whom you picture more in period dress than in modernity’s garb.
It was always a comfort to me when Nigel Terry’s face showed up, as if I knew that I was going to experience good historical drama with some solid acting, even if it was only while he was on screen.
Now my mind floats back to the end of Excalibur where I will forever remember Nigel Terry as Arthur, grievously wounded on the deck of a solemn barge, and guarded by the three ladies of Avalon as he is carried to the sacred Isle until needed again someday.
Of course, Nigel Terry had countless more acting credits to his name than the four I have mentioned. These are but my personal favourites.
To read more about the man, you can read Nigel Terry’s obituary in The Guardian by clicking HERE.
Here’s to yet another fallen prince of stage and screen. He won’t be the last, but he will be remembered, armour shining and sword in hand.
Roaming the Past – Documentaries to Fire Your Passion for History
I don’t know about you, but in this post-holiday time of the year I’m feeling a bit down.
This past week, like many I suspect, I went back to my small square-of-a-cubicle at my day job to get on with ‘regular work’.
That’s always tough, and, despite hitting the weights, yoga, meditation, going to see the new Hobbit movie, and all other manner of uplifting activities, fighting those back-to-work doldrums can make you feel like a lone centurion facing down a Parthian cavalry charge.
But, as ever, there is hope and enlightenment to be found in history.
One thing that I’ve always found is that getting lost in your favourite period of history can wipe out the New Year blues and make you feel like you have some reinforcements at your back.
One way in which I do this is to watch ancient and medieval history documentaries. The combination of knowledge, travel log, archaeological discovery, and ancient innovation always fills a void and reignites my passion for history. And the human stories behind the history never fail to make that Parthian cavalry charge feel smaller and more manageable.
Today I wanted to share with you some of my very favourite documentary series to help temper your own version of cubicle-itis, and get you through the next few weeks as we step into the jaws of Winter (at least in the northern hemisphere).
As with all of these shows, much hangs on the presenter.
Remember, we’re dealing with history here, and most people don’t have very fond memories of their school history classes. Documentaries are dynamic school rooms and it all hangs on the teacher/presenter.
I can’t stand it when a television presenter is overly academic, snooty, blustery, or arrogant. The show should always be about the subject matter, not the host’s ego.
And so, the following shows are on my list not only because of the fascinating topics, but also for the quality of the hosts, their respect and passion for the subject matter.
Michael Wood
For me, Michael Wood has presented some of the most fascinating documentary series since the late 70s. His In Search of series covers everything from the Myths and Heroes, to the Dark Ages, Anglo-Saxon England, and Shakespeare. However, the most fascinating of this series, for me, and for many archaeologists I know, is the six-part In Search of the Trojan War.
Click here for the direct link.
I highly recommend this series. It’s not just about the Trojan War itself, but the Bronze Age in general. You’ll even learn about the Trojans, the Greeks, and the Hittites!
My absolute favourite Michael Wood documentary, however, is his magnificent series entitled In the Footsteps of Alexander the Great.
In this three-part series, we journey with Michael along the entire route taken by Alexander’s army all the way from Macedon and Greece, to Tyre and Egypt, through war zones controlled by the Taliban to the Hindu Kush on into India and back. There are times when Wood was in danger too, but he is intrepid and curious, and you really get a feel for what the journey might have been like, visiting landscapes which few people will ever see in person.
At the time of filming, Wood was unable to visit the battlefield of Gaugamela, but after the second Iraq war, he returned to the area to film a follow-up documentary called Alexander’s Greatest Battle which is also well worth a look.
If you watch any of these videos, and have an interest in Alexander the Great, In the Footsteps of Alexander the Great is the one I recommend you watch. Here is the long trailer for it:
Click here for the direct link.
Bettany Hughes
Next up we have another British historian and broadcaster whose list of documentary credits is just as astounding as Michael Wood’s, perhaps even more varied.
Bettany Hughes has done documentaries on ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome, and she’s looked at Helen of Troy and Nefertiti, Atlantis, ancient engineering, Democracy, and sex in the ancient world.
She has that passion that is so essential to teaching history, and she doesn’t sugar-coat the past. In fact, she gets down to the nitty-gritty, dirty details, and can tear down with style the romantic images that cloud our view of the past; her documentary Athens: The Dawn of Democracy is one such show.
Bettany seems to have a truly adventurous spirit too, which is great. Just recently she was tweeting out from modern Georgia and the land of Medea and the Golden Fleece where she was shooting for a new show.
My favourite documentary series that I have seen thus far from Bettany is The Spartans. This three-part series provides a fantastic look at the nature of Spartan society, its past glories, and its downfall. You’ll definitely want to see this one!
Click here for the direct link.
Adam Hart Davis
Our next presenter is probably the jolliest character of the group. He is a scientist, a historian, a broadcaster, and much much more. If you look at the range of his work, you’ll see that he covers a wide range of topics besides history.
The reason I’ve put Adam Hard Davis on this list is because his BBC series, What the Romans did for Us, is the most interesting documentary series I’ve ever seen that looks at the practical side of the Roman world.
In this series, Adam shows us numerous inventions and innovations to come out of the Empire. And the cool thing is that these are all things that we still use in some way, shape or form today.
Did you know that a Roman invented the hamburger? Or that the Romans had invented a fire engine? There are all sorts of wonderful surprises in this fantastic series, hosted by a man who loves what he does and has a child-like curiosity and enthusiasm that is truly contagious. You’ve got to watch this!
Click here for the direct link.
John Romer
Our next documentarian is British Egyptologist, historian, and author, John Romer.
He has done several shows on the ancient world, but the one that introduced me to him remains, for me, his very best.
Watching Seven Wonders of the Ancient World is a wonder-full journey to these magnificent sites that have captivated the human imagination for ages.
Romer does not give us the usual academic tour of these ancient tourist attractions. Rather he gets up close and personal with the ruins, the landscape, and the people who lived in those places. He mesmerizes the viewer with his poetic admiration of everything about these places.
In this series, Romer looks at the hidden corners surrounding the Seven Wonders. He’ll admire the grand design and architecture, but also the fine details of a hidden relief that decorates a forgotten piece of history.
Some people might think of Romer as melodramatic, but I think he is more passionate than anything. He loves ancient culture, history, and the people who created these timeless monuments.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQmIzJwjgEI
Click here for the direct link.
Michael Scott
This next presenter is relatively new to the history documentary scene compared with those I have mentioned above, but when I first saw one of his shows, I knew he would be an ancient history documentarian who would get a whole new generation of students interested in history.
Michael Scott’s style is cool and interested. He is very knowledgeable, and has great passion for the subject matter he is talking about. Definitely not your typical, dry academic!
His most recent series is called Roman Britain from the Air, which began airing last month. I haven’t seen that yet, but I’m looking forward to checking it out.
Most of his documentaries are about ancient Greece, however, and the one that I wanted to mention here is his three-part series Ancient Greece: The Greatest Show on Earth.
This show was a bit of an eye opener for me. Not having studied ancient Greek theatre, it came as something of a surprise that ancient Greek drama was so closely linked to the birth of Democracy, and that it played such an essential, pivotal role in ancient Greek society.
If you want to learn a lot about ancient Greece, in a fascinating and entertaining way, you should definitely watch Michael Scott’s series. After watching this, you’ll want to get yourself on a plane to Greece as soon as you can!
http://youtu.be/xf9cDKqwhQw?list=PLaGnq8H7GaVLH-dDaUlKHpy-JcMqwmI5F
Click here for the direct link.
Richard Harris
Wait! Richard Harris, the actor? Yes.
My last entry here is not an academic or historian, but he sure was an entertainer, and sometimes larger than life.
One of my primary refuges from the madness of the world is the Arthurian realm, and so I could not offer up this list of blues-chasing documentaries without mentioning my favourite Arthurian documentary.
Many of you may have seen Richard Harris in the first couple of Harry Potter movies as Professor Albus Dumbledore. Personally, I liked him as the Emperor Marcus Aurelius in the movie Gladiator, and King Richard the Lionheart in the movie Robin and Marian. Actually, Richard Harris rarely ever disappointed in any of his film roles over the years of his magnificent career, including as King Arthur in the film version of the musical Camelot.
The latter was the reason he was chosen to host this single documentary on Britain’s most famous hero.
Arthur: King of the Britons came out not long before Richard Harris’ death in 2002. This is a wonderful documentary of this myth, history and archaeological discoveries surrounding the person of Arthur.
Rather than seeking to tear down or dismiss the theories about an historical Arthur, this documentary looks at the real possibilities and evidence for the existence of Arthur. This is not about late medieval knights in shining armour.
This documentary is about the search for the person who may have been the historical Arthur, the Romano-British warlord who held off the Saxons for a brief time in the early sixth century A.D.
What I love about this documentary are the visits to Tintagel Castle, and South Cadbury Castle, as well as the digital recreations of these and other sites. It gives a magnificent perspective of them, and the latest research at the time.
If you missed my post on South Cadbury Castle, click HERE to check it out.
As I mentioned in that post, I had been working as an archaeologist on the dig there, which happened to be during the time of the filming of Arthur: King of the Britons!
Unfortunately (well, sort of unfortunately), I was in Greece when the film crew and Richard Harris showed up at the site. So, I missed meeting the great actor himself – and my dig mates made sure to tell me! However, you can see my dig director, Richard Tabor, on the video, which is pretty cool.
Richard Harris is legend, and so what better actor than one who has played Arthur, to present this documentary. He is cool, captivating, and powerful as he tries to unravel the mythical Arthur, and bring us face-to-face with the Arthur of history.
Click here for the direct link.