CHAPTER
NINE
Arthur and Uther
The
story of Uther's defeat of Gorlois of Cornwall and the former's taking of the
latter's queen, Ygerna, tells us that Ygerna is here, in typically Celtic
fashion, being considered the Goddess of Sovereignty, whom the king must
possess if he is to have the land. The Ygerna episode informs us that the
Terrible Chief-warrior (the usual translation of Uther Pendragon's name, but
see below) had conquered the kingdom
of Gorlois.
Is
Arthur's association with Cornwall
correct? Was he indeed born at Tintagel? Or are the Cornish sites merely
fictions?
Only
in the past few years, excavations carried out at Tintagel by Kevin Brady of Glasgow University have uncovered evidence which
provides a very good reason why Arthur was linked to this site. A broken piece
of Cornish slate was uncovered bearing the 6th century inscription ‘Pater
Coliavificit Artognov’, which Professor Charles Thomas of Exeter University has
rendered ‘Artognov, father of a descendent of Coll.’ While the name Arthur
cannot be identified with that of Artognov, it is quite possible that Geoffrey
of Monmouth or his source knew that Tintagel was once owned by someone whose
name began with Arto-. The mention of Coll in connection with a ruler found residing
in Dumnonia is interesting, in that a famous Cole Hen or Coel the Old is placed
at the head of genealogies for the British Strathclyde kings. Strathclyde was
anciently inhabited by a Dumnonii tribe - a tribe whose name matches exactly
that of the Dumnonii who inhabited Cornwall
and Devon.
If
Arthur was placed at Tintagel because an Artognov ruled from there (although
see an alternative possibility below), can we now do anything with the other
characters of the play: Uther Pendragon, Ygerna and Gorlois?
Uther
As
I have demonstrated in my book “The Arthur of History: A Reinterpretation of
the Evidence”, Uther Pendragon is merely a title for Ambrosius Aurelianus. Ambrosius was “Terrible” because he caused
fear in Vortigern, and his association with the dragons of Dinas Emrys is well
known. While Ambrosius was NOT the real
father of Arthur (Arthur’s father was Arthwys of the North), because Uther is
recognized as such in the established tradition, I plan on honoring that here.
Gorlois
Geoffrey
got his Gorlois from Taliesin’s poem XLVIII, The Death-Song of Uther Ben. In this
poem Uther is referred to as Gorlasar. Noted Celticist John Koch recently
pointed out the similarity between Geoffrey's Gorlois and Gorlasar. Hence it
appears that Geoffrey of Monmouth took the title gorlassar and converted it
into a separate person whose form Uther assumes.
The full
stanza containing the
name Gorlasar (from Death Song of
Uther Ben) runs like this:
“I
was called Gorlasar ['bright blue'],
My
belt was a rainbow to [or 'about'] my enemies. I was a prince in the dark,
[He]
who enchanted me placed me in the basket.”
According
to the Geiriadur Prifsygol Cymru, gorlasar is from gor + glassar, in Old Irish
forlas(s)ar, ‘fire, conflagration’ or, as an adjective, ‘shining, fiery’. In
Welsh the meaning is ‘bright blue, having glinting weapons’. Gorlas (gor +
glas), in OI forglas, means ‘with a blue face, very blue’ or, as an adjective
in Welsh, ‘bright or deep blue’.
Gorlasar
may actually be a name the poet Taliesin gave himself. I say this only because
of line 4 of the quoted strophe, which has Gorlasar placed in a basket. This
sounds suspiciously like what was done to Taliesin, who was placed in a
‘coracle or hide-covered basket’ by the goddess Ceridwen. The coracle/basket
ends up in a fish-weir. Some obscure lines in Welsh sources hint that the pole
upon which Myrddin (as Llallogan) was impaled had a fish-weir attached to it.
Finally,
we are reminded of the wicker-work figures filled with humans and animals that
Caeser and Strabo claim were sacrificially burned. Scholars of Celtic religion
believe these were sacrifices to the thunder god Taranis. We have seen in
Chapter 6 that Taranis = Mellt, the consort of Modron, mother of Mabon.
The Bear and the
Dragon
The
British were quite right in associating Arthur’s name with their word for bear,
‘arth’, although they could not possibly have known the actual etymology. Arthur is commonly said to be from the Roman
name Artorius, and recently Celticist Professor Stefan Zimmer has adequately
demonstrated that Artorius itself was originally a Celtic name. From *Arto-rig-ios, it meant simply
‘Bear-king’. Ironically, the name is
really from a purely Celtic *Arturix or Bear-king and not from the Roman name.
Arthur’s
celestial correspondence may, therefore, be the constellation of the Great
Bear, i.e. Ursa Major. In Britain, the
Big Dipper, being part of the bear star group, is referred to as Arthur’s Wain
or Wagon.
But,
the same constellation is also called the Plough. Bootes drives the Plough or
Cart in a perpetual circle around the Pole Star, thereby causing the rotation
of the heavens. And the primary star of
Bootes, and one of the brightest in the heavens, is Arcturus, the
Bear-guard. If the Big Dipper is
Arthur’s wagon, i.e. the plough or cart of Bootes, then Arthur himself is
almost certainly to be identified with Arcturus.
And
what of Uther Pendragon, the Chief Dragon, by which the Welsh meant
‘Chief-warrior’ or, perhaps, ‘Chief-[war-]leader’?
Geoffrey
of Monmouth was, apparently, unaware of such a usage of the word ‘dragon’ in
poetry. He concocted a story to account for how Uther acquired his byname:
“…
there appeared a star [comet] of great magnitude and brilliance, with a single
beam shining from it. At the end of this beam was a ball of fire, spread out in
the shape of a dragon. From the dragon’s mouth stretched forth two rays of
light [the typical dual tails of a comet], one of which seemed to extend its
length beyond the latitude of Gaul, while the second turned towards the Irish
Sea and split up into seven smaller shafts of light.”
(History
of the Kings of Britain,
Part 6)
This
star appears at the moment of the death of Aurelius Ambrosius, Uther’s
predecessor as King of the Britons. Merlin explains to Uther that the ‘star’
and the fiery dragon signifies him, while the beam of light that shines towards
Gaul is Arthur and the second ray his daughter Anna and her royal offspring.
Geoffrey continues:
“Mindful
of the explanation given by Merlin of the star, Uther ordered two Dragons to be
fashioned in gold, in the likeness of the one which he had seen in the ray
which shone from that star. As soon as the Dragons had been completed… he made
a present of one of them to the congregation of the cathedral church of the see
of Winchester.
The second one he kept for himself, so that he could carry it round to his
wars. From that moment onwards he was called Uther Pendragon, which in the
British language means ‘a dragon’s head’.”
These
dragon standards have, quite plausibly, been associated with the Roman draco
standard.
Thanks
to the Aneirin poem Gwarchan Maeldderw, we know that Welsh tradition held that
the red dragon was still being used as a British war standard by as late as the
Battle of Cattraeth (Catterick), which was fought at the end of the 6th
century, well after Uther’s floruit. The relevant passage of this poem reads:
“Let
them demand the virtue of fame for the great army!
The
champion used to look past a young girl,
The
dazzling one, and the one who required due payment for his lineage;
In
the presence of the spoils of the Pharaoh’s red dragon,
Companions
will depart in the breeze.”
‘Pharaoh’
is a designation for Vortigern in Gildas’ Ruin of Britain, the king to whom
Emrys or Ambrosius ‘the Immortal/Divine One’ reveals the mystery of the
fighting dragons. As we have seen, this particular Emrys is not the historical
Aurelius Ambrosius, but is a title for the god Lleu, the Lord of Gwynedd.
Geoffrey
further confused matters by identifying Merlin, the Welsh Myrddin, with Emrys
of Dinas Emrys. Then to make matters even worse, he has Uther and Aurelius
Ambrosius be buried at Stonehenge next to Amesbury, ancient Ambresbyrig, whose
name was – like Dinas Emrys – interpreted as meaning the ‘Fort of Ambrosius’.
What
exactly were the two dragons of Dinas Emrys? Is there any way we can find out
what they originally represented? By the time we get the the ninth century
account preserved by Nennius in his History of the Britons, the White Dragon is
a symbol of the Saxons and the Red Dragon of the Britons. Completely omitted is
the well-known fact that Otherworld animals in Welsh belief were unique in that
they were always red and white in color.
The
fort at Dinas Emrys in Gwynedd was begun in the Iron Age, but was also occupied
in the Roman and Early Medieval periods. Southwest of the fort is the pool in
which the dragons were supposedly discovered, an artificial cistern excavated
in either the 5th or 6th century CE to supply the hill-top with water.
According
to Nennius’ text (History of the Britons, 40-42), the objects found when the
pool is excavated by Vortigern are:
duo
vasa, ‘two vessels’,
tentorium,
‘tent’,
duo
vermes, unus albus et alter rufus, ‘two worms, one white and the other red’
The
best interpretation of the text has the two worms inside the tent and the tent
inside the two vessels, i.e. the vessels are found set together ‘mouth to
mouth’. Thus the two vessels have to be separated before the tent can be
revealed. The worms are presumably wrapped in the tent.
At
Nennius’ time (9th century CE), vermes in Welsh, as in Old English and Old
Norse and Latin, designated creatures as small as earthworms and as large as
dragons. Vermis also designated Satan.
But
as I have mentioned above, in early Welsh poetry the word ‘dragon’ could be used
metaphorically for a warrior. It is surely not a coincidence, then, that the
‘tent’ or cloth in which the two dragons are found wrapped bears an uncanny
resemblance to the cloth used to wrap cremated remains prior to their being
placed in a cinerary urn. This practice is recorded as far back as Homer’s
time. From the
‘Funeral
of Hector’ in the Iliad:
“So
spake he, and they yoked oxen and mules to wagons, and speedily thereafter
gathered together before the city. For nine days' space they brought in measureless
store of wood, but when the tenth dawn arose, giving light unto mortals, then
bare they forth bold Hector, shedding tears the while, and on the topmost pyre
they laid the dead man and cast fire thereon. But soon as early dawn
appeared, the rosy-fingered, then gathered the folk about the pyre of
glorious Hector. And when they were assembled and met together, first they
quenched with flaming wine all the pyre, so far as the fire's might had come
upon it, and thereafter his brethren and his comrades gathered the white bones,
mourning, and big tears flowed ever down their cheeks.
The
bones they took and in a golden urn, covering them over with soft purple robes,
and quickly laid the urn in a hollow grave, and covered it over with great
close-set stones. Then with speed heaped they the mound…”
Such
cloth wrapped about cremated remains has actually been found in an
archaeological context in Britain.
And so, too, have cremation burials in which two urns were used to hold the remains
- two urns that remind us immediately of the two ‘vases’ of the Dinas Emrys
story. We also cannot help but recall that according to Geoffrey of Monmouth,
Uther the ‘Pendragon’ and Aurelius Ambrosius, whose death was heralded by the
appearance of the dragon-shaped comet, were both buried at Amesbury’s Stonehenge.
To
learn whether or not the Dinas Emrys vases could have been cremation urns, I
turned to several archaeological studies on urn burials.
In
some urns discovered in Cambridgeshire, at Muttilow Hill, calcined bones had
been collected and wrapped in cloth before being placed in the urns. The
contents of one of the urns was described as ‘burnt human bones enveloped in a
cloth, which, on looking into the vessel, gave them the appearance of being
viewed through a yellow gauze veil, but which upon being touched dissolved into
fine powder.’ The urns were all inverted. A somewhat peculiar feature of urn
burial was discovered at Broughton, in Lincolnshire
where the urn containing the burnt bones was placed upright on the surface of
the ground, and another urn, made to fit the mouth, inverted into it to form a
cover. In instances where the ashes of the dead have been collected from the
funeral pyre, and laid in a skin or cloth before interment, the bone or bronze
pins with which the ‘bundle’ was fastened still remain, although, of course,
the cloth itself has long since perished.
The
site is that at Broughton Common near Scunthorpe.
The barrow in question is No. 3 in a cemetery of 8 barrows. The vessel is
described as a finely decorated tripartite urn, upright, with a smaller urn
inverted over it. The cremation urn contained a rough flint flake and a bronze
implement, thought at the time to be an arrowhead but considered later to be
probably a razor. The urns are described as related to the collared urns from
the central and southern Pennines (mountain
range) and from north east Yorkshire. The use
of smaller vessels as covers in the manner of barrow 3 is also found in the Pennine
burials. The razor has also been found with other collared urns related to the Pennines series but also in earlier Bronze Age burials in
Wessex
and widely on the continent. They are dated roughly to c. 1800 BCE. This tells
us that a burial similar to what was found at Dinas Emrys was actually
excavated in England.
But can we find a case of this kind of burial in Wales itself? Actually, yes, we
can.
The
burial in question consists of two urns, placed 'mouth to mouth' so as to give
a closed container, in which were the cremated remains of one or more bodies. The
site is near Milford Haven, Southwest Wales,
and was excavated as part of a project to run a gas pipeline through Wales. The site
was excavated by Cotswold Archaeology and the post-excavation work is currently
ongoing.
The
urns have not been radiocarbon dated yet to confirm a Bronze Age date, but
typologically the vessels and site are Bronze Age. Only one vessel was a
collared urn with bird bone impression decoration. It is thought there may be
the cremated remains of five individuals inside the pot, without accompanying
grave goods.
Such
urn burials, then, with one vessel as a cover over another do occur
ocasionally. These urns are called Collared Urns and belong to the Early Bronze
Age, dating usually between 1900-1600 BCE. The recent Milford Haven discovery
is one of this type of burial.
In
other instances, two urns may be buried side by side with a burial, others may
have one or two accessory vessels accompanying or within an urn.
On
sixty occasions more than one Collared Urn or Vessel has been interred in the
grave. On thirteen, perhaps sixteen, the urn has had a second Collared Vessel
placed either within or over it as a cover.
However,
it would appear that urns covered with other ceramic vessels were not solely of
Bronze Age provenance. Roman cremations were often housed in a large pot with a
smaller one on top. In terms of urns that are covered with other inverted urns,
there are certainly Roman examples (first and second century CE). However,
there are quite a few Bronze Age and Anglo-Saxon examples as well.
Anglo-Saxon
cremations don’t usually have second inverted pots as a lid, though they do
sometimes have pottery lids (e.g. the one from Spong Hill). On the continent
there are Iron Age cremations with lids which look like inverted bowls.
Vessels
included as grave goods rather than functioning as an urn to contain cremated
bone are relatively common in most periods of the use of the rite, though they
take different forms at different times, including, mostly in the Anglo-Saxon
period, two seperate vessels being used to bury the remains of one individual
in a single grave. It is probable that most if not all urned burials were
originally lidded in some way; most will have used organic materials; flat
stones have also been found as covers (esp. Bronze Age). Ceramic covers, either
a vessel inserted into the rim of the urn, or more commonly as a dish form of
vessel inverted over the rim, are common in the Romano-British period, and in
the Iron Age. There is also some evidence - famously the 'Spong Man' - for
ceramic covers, sometimes specially designed - in the Anglo-Saxon period.
There
is another component of cremation burial which needs to be considered in the
context of the Dinas Emrys story, as it relates directly to serpent imagery
found as an artistic and religious motif on both Roman and Anglo-Saxon cinerary
urns.
A
significant number of Roman footed marble vases with strigilated decoration on
the body are known today. Strigilated stone vases with entwined snake handles,
however, are much rarer. On a vessel in the Marmorpalais in Potsdam the lid and most of the serpents
except for their horizontal tails are modern restorations, but the remains of
the head of one serpent on the rim makes clear that the handle design was the
same. This vase is so similar in size and design to a piece in the Metropolitan
Museum of Art that it could come from the same workshop. It is worth mentioning
that both vessels bear comparable hard incrustations or burial deposits. The
handles of another pertinent marble vase in Venice are somewhat different, as water is
seemingly represented flowing beneath the serpents. Both the Berlin and Venice vases have been dated to the 2nd
century CE. An earlier funerary urn formerly in the collection of the Waiters Art Gallery
in Baltimore
combines entwined snake handles with figured decoration carved in relief. The
snake handles on the Met urn are presented in a far more dramatic way, with
thicker bodies, more intricate knotting, and a greater use of dark and light
effects. The bravura carving of the Metropolitan's piece seems appropriate for
a work of the late 2nd century CE. Another possible indication of chronology is
the treatment of the strigilated surface of the Met vase, with deeply
articulated channels similar to those on cylindrical ash urns dated to the
Antonine period.
It
is difficult to determine whether vases of this type were made as cinerary urns
to hold ashes or as purely decorative objects unless their find spot is known,
or they preserve a funerary inscription or a panel prepared for a painted
funerary inscription. One such cinerary vase, said to come from a tomb in Leptis Magna (on the
Libyan coast), has a Latin inscription incised below the rim. The closest
parallel to the Met piece, the aforementioned Berlin vessel on loan to Potsdam, was surely intended as a cinerary
urn, since it has a blank panel for an inscription. Certainly it is entirely
possible that Roman workshops produced these marble vases for both funerary and
decorative use. Be that as it may, the motif of entwined serpents is entirely
appropriate for a funerary vase. Linked with the earth, snakes were associated
with chthonian powers and the Greeks and Romans regarded them as guardians of
sacred places, houses and tombs. They appear often in the funerary arts of
classical antiquity.
These
snakes on Roman urns remind us of the so-called ‘wyrm’ or serpentine dragon
device found on some Anglo-Saxon cremation urns. The suggestion that such
decorative schemes on Anglo-Saxon cremation vessels evoke the dragon protecting
the treasure mound (cf. Beowulf) goes back to the Caistor by Norwich report on incised decoration urn
1539. The analogy is then extended to various S shaped stamps with segmented
bodies which are used in decorative schemes on several urns.
In
England
and Scandinavia the dragon came to be regarded
as the guardian of the grave mound, watching over its treasures. It is often
implied that the monster should be identified with the dead man who was buried
in the mound, and in some of the late legendary sagas we are told that a man
indeed becomes a dragon after death. In these accounts the transformed corpse
guards the treasure which had been deposited in the barrow with him.
The
most famous example of a man who became a dragon - or more accurately, an orm,
the Old Norse cognate of English wyrm and Latin vermis - is Fafnir of the
Volsunga Saga. We must interpret this story as a man being placed in a barrow
mound after he dies. His grave goods, which include gold, are deposited with
him. Thus Fafnir’s transformation into a hoard-guarding dragon represents his
continued existence after death within the underworld.
But
if the Dinas Emrys ‘dragons’ were, in fact, actually merely a couple of dead
chieftains accidentally unearthed during the Dark Age excavation of a pool, why
did they come to be viewed as symbolic of the Britons and the Saxons?
My
first clue to answering this question was found in the 5th century CE writings
of Sozomen, who records the unusual unearthing of the Old Testament prophet
Zechariah.
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