Searching For Arthur: How Archaeological Evidence At Glastonbury Can Be Used With Arthurian Mythology

To Create A Valid Picture Of The Legendary King

Myth is most frequently used in tandem with archaeology, in order to gain greater understanding of ancient artefacts uncovered; an insight into the myths of a people will allow greater knowledge of not only them, but also their rites and practices, as well as aiding appreciation of the meaning of their art (Renfrew & Bahn, 2000; p415-9). Sometimes, however, the subservient partner in this symbiotic relationship becomes the dominant one, and myths can be used as the impetus for archaeological digs, rather than simply an explanation of what they uncover. It was, for example, Homer’s accounts of the Trojan Wars, as told in his epic poem ‘The Iliad’, which inspired the German banker Heinrich Schliemann to make a nineteenth century search for this ancient city. A series of field campaigns in the 1870’s and 1880’s led to Troy being successfully identified in Hissarlik of Western Turkey (Renfrew & Bahn, 2000; p30). Here, myth was being used like a map, or compass, giving both a good starting point and direction for archaeological study. Just as myths can be used to further illuminate archaeological discoveries, so too can the science of archaeology be used to give credence to legendary tales.

Somewhat closer to home than Troy are the ongoing Arthurian investigations. The search for this legendary King holds many historians and archaeologists in its thrall, as they seek to untangle the ‘real’ Arthur from the multitude of tales which surround him. Using both archaeological and textual sources, it is wholly possible to verify that the man did exist – in fact, this is comparatively easy, when set against the task of ‘proving’ the tales which surround him. Nevertheless, a ‘scientific’ approach to the Arthurian mythology is possible, and it is that research method which I will be studying within this essay, with Glastonbury [shown in the map below] as my main focus.

This site was chosen for several reasons – not only is Glastonbury a place with some of the oldest Arthurian associations, its claim to hold the grave of the legendary King has never been disputed, and it is somewhere which I myself have visited. Given the restrictions of space – even the sparsest of studies of Arthurian Britain would result in an essay of at least novella length – to narrow the field of study to just the one place, and this place in particular, felt wholly natural.

‘Arthur’s legacy will always be as important as legend.’ (Ashe, 1975; p177)

The associations between myths and archaeology are long-standing. A myth-instigated dig, however, does not always have the pursuit of truth or personal satisfaction as its primary goal. Even the Chalice Well Trust, which sponsored digs at both the Chalice Well and Glastonbury Tor in the 1960’s (Radford, 1975; p113) cannot have been entirely unmotivated by the prospect of findings bringing increased tourism revenue. From the moment when the Abbey monks discovered what was claimed to be the grave of Arthur and his Queen, in 1190, profit has always been a suspected motive in Glastonbury’s archaeological history, as Radford and Sawnton note below:

‘It was not without some political consequence that regal pressure was brought to bear on the monks of Glastonbury to search for Arthur’s grave – the discovery of which was finally reported in 1190. Thereafter the proliferation of actual ‘relics’ merely paralleled the development of the romance legends.’ (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p15)

With a grave, and therefore proof of his death, the English would be able to quash the Welsh’s dreams of his ‘messianic return’ – the ‘Breton hope’ – and so defeat them (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p42). It was in the best interests of Henry II, therefore, to seek out Arthur’s final resting place. It was also a providential find for the monks of the Abbey, who desperately needed funding to rebuild after the 1184 fire – the discovery of such a grave would and did attract visitors and their donations. Ashe (1987; p31-2), however, has found there to be a distinct lack of evidence that the grave was overtly financially-exploited by the monks, or that it was used as disheartening propaganda against the Welsh. It is also notable that, despite the discovery of the grave, King John took no chances in having the little Prince Arthur killed in 1203, in order that the boy, so significantly named, could not gain the throne (Brewer, 1985; p18).

In the 13^th Century, the relics identified as Arthur and Guinevere were moved to the tomb in the quire of the great church on the express orders of Edward I. He had, in 1278, ‘just completed his first successful offensive against Llewlyn ap Gruffydd of north Wales’, and had based his claim to overlord-ship on the rights of King Arthur, who was recorded by Geoffrey of Monmouth as having dominion over all of England Scotland and Wales. Twenty-four years later, Edward I was using the same argument to validate his claim on Scotland. And all this despite Arthur’s original status as an anti-English hero, ‘champion of the British people against the heathen English invaders’ (Radford, 1975; p109-10).

The monks were looking for a grave and found one, just as latter-day archaeologists are looking for Arthurian sites and often manage to find them. These happy coincidences can often engender a degree of healthy cynicism in the onlooker – within this essay, I have tried not to let such suspicion tarnish the required objectivity in studying the results of such findings.

Derek Brewer’s book on ‘Arthur’s Britain’ (1985) begins with the motto ‘Arthur lives!’ and goes on to explain that even if this is not a literal statement, it can still be seen as true; ‘for he lives in our minds and hearts, and the imprint of his legends far and wide on the British landscape.’ Similar sentiments were expressed by G.K. Chesterton, in his 1917 collection of essays entitled ‘Short History of England’, where he wrote of the country’s ‘real memory’ of its ‘real past’, which serves as the basis for its legends (Ashe, 1987; p7-8). Arthur and his Knights provide the one unifying myth we have in Britain – that this legendary King was once the hero of the Welsh fighting against the invading English has been all but forgotten. Unlike Robin Hood, who ‘belongs’ to Sherwood, Arthur’s influence can be seen all over the country – he has Bridges, Chairs, Quoits, Rocks, Seats and Stones named after him in England, Scotland and Wales (Brewer, 1985; p142). That he has been adopted by all can most probably be attributed to his stories containing all the right (and requisite) elements; the good King, the vanquishing of the foreign threat, the brave soldiers, the peaceful well-ruled kingdom, and the messianic return. Arthurian legends have captured the imagination for centuries, and still form the basis for new literary and onscreen adaptations, as well as archaeological digs.

‘This is that Arthur of whom the trifling of the Britons talks so much nonsense today; a man clearly worthy not to be dreamed of in fallacious fables, but to be proclaimed in veracious histories’. (William of Malmesbury’s ‘Deeds of the Kings of the English’, 1140)

The oldest consecutive account which refers to Arthur by name is within the 9^th Century work ‘Historia Brittonum’, usually attributed to Nennius; this details twelve battles which he led and won against the Anglo-Saxons and their (probably Pictish) allies (Ashe, 1987; p110). Given the above quote, it is clear William of Malmesbury believed in Arthur as a true figure of history, and not legend. His case, however, was not helped by Geoffrey of Monmouth’s ‘History of the Kings of Britain’, dated around 1136-8; it was this work which provided not only King Arthur’s ‘official biography’ but also the framework for all later romance writers (Ashe, 1987; p30, 63). Although Geoffrey of Monmouth gives a date of 542 for Arthur’s death, the majority of his material is set in a 5^th Century context, and most of the clues within his ‘History of the Kings of Britain’ point to a period between 440 and 480. This time-span can be further narrowed, using references such as the mentions of an Emperor Leo, which would put Arthur in Gaul between 469 and 470 (Ashe, 1987; p55, 57). However, within Gildas’ c. 540 work ‘Liber Querulus de Excidio et Conquesta Britanniae’, it is noted that after Arthur led the Britons to great victory at the battle of Mount Badon in 516 (or 518), his reign was one of prosperity and order. Although the country was still afflicted with civil wars, the foreign threat had been crushed. This period would neatly supply the basis for the legend of Arthur’s calm and glorious reign (Ashe, 1975; p178-9). Indeed, in the later half of the 6^th Century, the number of Arthurs rose dramatically, strongly suggesting a man so named had recently been acclaimed. He was certainly rapidly gaining nationwide popularity through song – Cumbrian bards were at this time composing the first verses about Arthur (Ashe, 1987; p56, 169). Whatever the exact dates, it is certain that an Arthur was a powerful chieftain or leader, whose exploits were later exaggerated or merged with local lore, and that he has been a figure of legend for fifteen centuries.

‘When all legend weaving has been discounted, it remains more than likely that this place was the home of the first Christian community in England: the first, at any rate, that survived.’ (Ashe, 1987; p26)

The 12^th Century writer William of Malmesbury recorded the oldest and most venerated structure on the ‘island’ of Glastonbury to be the Old Church (Vetusta Ecclesia), built of wattles by Roman missionaries, and later covered by wooden planks and lead in around 600 AD. [See Artist’s Impression, right.] However, later tradition declared the Old Church to have been founded by Joseph of Arimathea, while the anonymous 10^th Century biographer of St. Dunstan stated it had been consecrated by Jesus himself in honour of his mother (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p37). Even disregarding these Biblical associations, Rahtz (1975; p111) feels it to be ‘historically unlikely’ that there was a Christian settlement at Glastonbury before the 5^th Century. Brewer (1985; p60), by contrast, feels that the oldest church on the site dates from around 166. Rahtz (1975; p111) does concede to the possibility that there was, as Radford believes, a Christian monastery at Glastonbury in Arthurian times, between the 5^th and 6^th Century. However, he also makes clear that much of the evidence to support this hypothesis is circumstantial, as the Abbey excavations have revealed no dark-age materials. The absence of imported Mediterranean pottery (dated from c.470-c.670) Rahtz finds especially striking, as such items were typical of settlements during this period, monastic settlements in particular.

William of Malmesbury spent ‘a considerable time’ at Glastonbury, after his ‘Deeds of the Kings of the English’ was first published in 1125, and the resultant research made its way into a revised edition of that work, brought out before 1140. (Unlike this text, the stand-alone research treatise, published as ‘Antiquity of the Church of Glastonbury’, has not survived in its original form.) His detailed analysis of the Glastonbury archives, which has been described by Radford as being ‘as thorough as any medieval historical investigation’, revealed no mention of Arthur and even remarked on it: ‘the tomb of Arthur is nowhere to be seen, wherefore the ancient ditties fable that he is yet to come’ (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p42). And while this legendary king was brought into the ‘Deeds of the Kings of the English’, it was in a legendary context – only later writers who interpolated his Glastonbury treatise made direct connections between Glastonbury and Arthur (Radford, 1975; p98).

One particularly tenuous Glastonbury legend (WEB REF. 2) has sought to explain this lack of Arthurian records with a convenient tale of a red-eyed black knight which haunted the Abbey ruins and destroyed all records of Arthur, which is why ‘those seeking to discover the truth find so few facts available’.

In fact, Arthur’s connection with Glastonbury was first recorded in the ‘Life of St. Gildas’, a work written by Caradoc of Llancarfan in approximately 1150 (Radford, 1975; p98). Just as a ghost is unlikely to have removed Arthurian references from the Abbey, it cannot be suggested that the 12^th Century authors missed vital clues because they did not recognise the Britons’ use of Ynys-witrin – both Caradoc of Llancarfan and William of Malmesbury knew that this word referred to Glastonbury. (Radford, 1975; p98). In fact, the word’s connotations may have encouraged greater flights of fancy in those who spun tales around it. Caradoc himself mentioned that the old Celtic name of Ynys-witrin translates as ‘Isle of Glass’ – to the Celts, a Glass Island would have been ‘enchanted ground’, particularly if it included such an ‘eerie hill’ (Ashe, 1987; p18). Significantly, Frances Howard-Gordon (1982, WEB REF. 5) has noted this name to link Glastonbury with Caer Sidi – the Faeries' Glass Mountain or Spiral Castle ‘where the natural energies of the earth met with the supernatural power of death’. Both Pagan British and Celtic lore evidently believed the ground to be mystical, as many do today.

As mentioned above, William of Malmesbury never mentions Arthur in connection with this site – although some believe this could be simply because he dismissed any idea or information which could not be verified (Radford, 1975; p108-9). Yet less than a hundred years later, it was commonly believed that Glastonbury Abbey housed the bodies of the dead King Arthur and his Queen, and that the ‘island’ of Glastonbury was in fact the ‘Isle of Avalon’ (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p42).

‘As Tintagel is associated with the birth of Arthur, so Glastonbury is associated with his passing. An ancient tradition maintained that the king had never died and that he would return again. But Glastonbury claimed to possess his grave and relics.’ (Radford, 1975; p97)

Geoffrey of Monmouth tells of Arthur being ‘wounded deadly’ in his final battle, and being ‘borne thence unto the island of Avalon for the healing of his wounds… in AD 542’ (Radford, 1975; p97). Although Geoffrey does not attempt to identify the geographical location of the island, this Avalon, where Arthur is said to pass his days in a ‘dream of delight’ (Cox & Jones, 1871; p69), is now thought to be Glastonbury.

‘Avalon’ is a word of Celtic origin which means ‘apple place’, and was used as an equivalent for the Welsh’s ‘Avallach’, or ‘Mythical Island’, as apples are magical fruit (Ashe, 1987; p29-30). Interestingly, it was also once believed that Avalon was named after the British king Avalloc, the father of Morgan the enchantress. The etymology of this word has very powerful links, as apples are seen as symbols of joy and healing as well as discord, and have long had a place within world Mythology – witness the gardens of Eden and Hesperides in Christian and Ancient Greek mythologies, respectively (Brewer, 1985; p60).

The phrase ‘Isle of Avalon’ first appeared in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s ‘highly imaginative’ ‘History of the Kings of Britain’, written in about 1138; he tells of how Arthur’s sword was forged at Insula Avallonis, and it was here that Arthur was brought after his final battle (Ashe, 1987; p29-30). Geoffrey of Monmouth called this place Insula Pomorum, which translates as ‘Island of Apples’ (Brewer, 1985; p60).

In Arthurian times (c. 500), Glastonbury would indeed have appeared to be an island, only approachable by land to the east where it was linked with Shepton Mallet [see map on page 4]. Archaeological work on peat deposits from the area has revealed many changes in water level and vegetation in the land’s history – towards the end of the Roman period, the sea at high tide would have reached the eighteen-foot contour, and would have flooded much of the low-lying north Somerset plain. But for the high ground to the east, therefore, Glastonbury would have been surrounded by water, or else very wet and marshy ground (Rahtz, 1975; p113).

Glastonbury’s island appearance is only one part of the case put forward for it being Avalon. The other is that Arthur is buried there.

In 1190, the monks of Glastonbury Abbey ‘reported the discovery of a double grave containing the bones of an exceptionally tall man and a small woman – which were at once identified with King Arthur and Queen Guinevere’ (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p42). How they knew where to look is never explained – as Ashe (1987; p31) has noted, the background to their announcement is ‘most imperfectly known’. [Pictured left is a detail from a painting from the Abbey website of the disinterment.]

What we do know of the exhumation comes from a combination of three sources; Ralph of Coggeshall, Giraldus Cambrensis, and the monk Adam of Domerham. While Ralph of Coggeshall was a contemporary chronicler, and the report of Giraldus Cambrensis came from personal interview with those involved, Adam of Domerham wrote his account in 1291, drawing on archive material to write a history of the Abbey. These three sources agree that; the bodies were found in a double coffin made from a hollowed tree buried 16 feet down between two cemetery crosses, and that of the two sets of bones, the woman’s were ‘delicate’ and the man’s ‘enormous’ and battle-scarred, with ‘the skull savagely cut – some cuts knit together and one particularly deep one unhealed’. Only Giraldus adds the ‘circumstantial but graphic detail of a tress of golden hair which remained intact, but crumbled to dust when an over-eager monk snatched at it – falling into the hole and emerging very muddy in consequence’. However, all are agreed that the coffin was ‘accompanied by an inscribed leaden funerary cross’ underneath a stone slab 9 feet above the coffin, ‘its inscribed face against the stone’ (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p42-3). It is this cross which, to many, is final proof of the bodies’ identity.

Giraldus, ‘who claimed to have handled the cross’, recorded it as reading: ‘HIC IACET SEPULTUS INCLITUS REX ARTHURIUS CUM WENNEVEREIA UXORE SUA SECUNDA IN INSULA AVALLONIA’, ‘Here lies the renowned King Arthur, with Guinevere his second wife, in the island of Avalon’. Despite this, William Camden, who included a woodcut of the cross [pictured right] in the 6^th edition of his 1607 work ‘Britannia’, which makes no mention of Guinevere. However, this cross might not have been the one originally found in 1190 – Camden notes only that the woodcut was drawn from the ‘first copy in the Abbey of Glastonbury’ (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p43). Ashe (1987; p33) alternatively suggests that Guinevere may have been mentioned on the reverse of the cross, not pictured by Camden.

It has been suggested by many over the ages that this inscribed cross was manufactured by the monks in 1190, themselves under pressure to find Arthur’s grave, to satisfy their King and to bring prestige to their Abbey. However, the lettering of the inscription would seem to indicate otherwise – the engraving is written in ‘debased and straggling Roman capitals… proper to the eleventh century or earlier’. Radford (1975; p100) has noted that ‘if the cross was really a fabrication of the late twelfth century, the maker was unusually consistent’, and concludes it to be far more likely that it is a ‘genuine relic of pre-Conquest date’. This case is also helped by the cross’ Latinisation of Arthur into ‘Arturius’, a version only to be found in a 7^th Century document that would have been archaically unusual to a forger in the 12^th Century (Ashe, 1987; p33).

Some scholars have noted that the lettering on Camden’s drawing of the cross best corresponds with that seen on late Anglo-Saxon coinage; this would mean that the cross was not buried at the same time as the bodies. Radford & Sawnton (1985; p43) explain this by ascribing its creation to the 10^th Century Abbot Dunstan’s extensive re-building of the monastery, which also explains why the grave was not marked with a monolith, as other excavations have led archaeologists to believe was customary for warriors and chieftains of the dark-ages. The new Glastonbury cloister cut into the old monastic cemetery, which was levelled and re-walled [see map below], and would have led to the removal or burial of any monoliths; if, as evidence suggests, an early mausoleum was destroyed during this re-modelling, a re-internment would have been required (Radford, 1975; p106, 108-9). All of which is wholly feasible, albeit not easily proven. To Radford & Sawnton, this lack of evidence tenuously becomes evidence in itself – as Ashe (1987; p31) also notes, secrecy would have been paramount, as the Anglo-Saxons would have wished to efface all memory of this hero of their enemies.

(N.B. On the above map, only those features marked in solid black are still standing.)

No matter what is believed about the contents of the grave itself, 20^th Century archaeological excavation has revealed ‘no reason to doubt the actual report of a 12^th Century exhumation’. Radford did excavate the Abbey site himself between 1962 and 1963, and beneath the two crosses described, found evidence of centuries-old digging, as well as a possible coffin-removal – deep in the earth, stone slabs such as those used to line ancient burials had been shifted around, as though to allow extraction of a coffin from beneath them (Ashe, 1987; p32). He also found that during the 1180s or 90s, ‘a large irregular hole had been dug out and then shortly afterwards refilled’ – such precise dating was enabled by the presence in the hole of masons’ chippings of Doulting stone, which was first used at Glastonbury to rebuild the facing of the Lady Chapel in 1184-89 (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p43-4).

That a man such as Arthur would have been buried in the Abbey grounds at all is also justified from archaeological evidence – findings from Wales have shown that in the 6^th Century it gradually became commonplace for chieftains to be buried in monastic cemeteries, a practice which replaced the previous traditional of small family burial grounds. A man of Arthur’s status would certainly have been buried on monastic ground, and had he been a resident of mid-Somerset at this time – living, for example, at Cadbury – Glastonbury Abbey would have been the obvious choice. The grave was situated in a part of the cemetery which would have been regarded as a place of honour (Ashe, WEB REF. 3). Equally, a warrior as famed as Arthur could well have been accorded the ‘privilege’ of burial alongside the mausoleum of a saint – holy men such as St. Indracht and St. Patrick are both suggested to have been buried there (Radford, 1975; p106, 108).

While the board which marks the original graves found in 1190 [pictured right] only states that this is where King Arthur and Guinevere were ‘said to have been found’, the overall tone of the Glastonbury Abbey web-page (WEB REF. 2) is far less tentative. Even Ashe (1987; p34), who describes the grave as ‘manifestly suspect’, nevertheless also feels it cannot be dismissed as a fake. One particularly sound point made in Glastonbury’s favour is that, while there are multiple sites said to be Camelot, or where Excalibur was found and disposed of, and where Arthur’s last battle was fought, ‘all the centuries of Arthurian legend-making produced, for practical purposes, only the one grave.’

The area surrounding the Abbey is also rich in mythology, most notably the Tor. However, the Chapel at Beckery, the Wirral Hill and the Chalice Well are also sites of significance, as is the solitary Somerset hill of Brent Knoll. This was once the property of Glastonbury Abbey – a chronicler recorded it as previously having been the property of Arthur before he gave it to the monks (Ashe, 1975; p150).

The nearby Wirral or Wearyall Hill is said to be where Joseph of Arimathea and his party arrived from Palestine – ‘weary all’ after their long journey. [See stained-glass window, left.] There Joseph drove his staff into the ground, from which point a tree sprung up, the Glastonbury Thorn, which flowers each year around Christmas time. Although the tree was cut down by a Puritan, distasteful of the superstitious reverence it was granted, cuttings guaranteed it descendants, one of which was replanted on the original site in 1951. Interestingly, analysis has shown the tree to be of East Mediterranean provenance, possibly Syrian – certainly someone brought it back from the ‘right general area’, although science cannot answer whether it was Joseph or a later pilgrim who was the importer. That a boat could have landed on the Hill has, however, been proven by archaeology – traces of Roman wharves have been identified all along the banks of the River Brue, one of them near the tip of the Wearyall (Ashe, 1987; p21, 24).

Legends tell that their party brought the Holy Grail with them to Glastonbury the sacred chalice, which Joseph had used to catch the falling drops of Jesus’ blood, and that it lies buried beneath the Chalice Well [pictured right]. This Well is sometimes also known as the Blood Spring, so named because of the reddish tint to its waters (Ashe, 1987; p20). This has been explained by science as the result of an iron impregnation – it is chalybeate which tinctures the water, and not the blood of Christ. Originally known as the Chalcwelle or Chalk Well, its name was changed in medieval times, as a result of the popularity of the Grail legends (Brewer, 1985; p64) – a ‘chalk’ or limestone well evidently not being as big a draw as one which holds the Grail. There is, however scant archaeological evidence to support this legendary claim.

Similarly, there is little in the way of hard proof to support the story within Sir Thomas Malory’s ‘Le Morte d’Arthur’, which has Sir Lancelot and other survivors going to live a hermit’s life near Glastonbury, in a valley between two hills - the Tor and Chalice Hill. The presence of hermits or anchorites in the area would account for the presence of an Anchor Inn and Anchor Orchard at the foot of the Chalice Well property (Ashe, 1987; p21). This, however, is pure conjecture – such naming could just as easily date from the period when Glastonbury was used as a port.

The Chapel of Beckery, which is to be found just below Wearyall Hill, is also a site loaded with legendary significance. It was visited by the Irish Saint Bridget in 488, who is believed to have left personal possessions in the chapel, including ‘a wallet, string of beads, hand-bell and some weaving tools’. These were preserved as relics after her death, and could still be seen up to the 15^th Century (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p39, 45). The Chapel also forms the basis for a story told by John of Glastonbury, found in the 1726 collection ‘Historia de Rebus Glastonienbus’, which localises a similar tale told in the romance ‘Perceval li Gallois’. Arthur, dreaming in nearby Wearyall convent, is told by an angel to go to the hermitage of Mary Magdalene at Beckery – there, ‘inter alia the king’s attendant is slain in the act of stealing a gold candlestick’. A vision of the Virgin and Child then appears to Arthur in the Beckery chapel, and Mary gives him a crystal cross, which causes him to change his armorial bearings ‘to that of a silver cross on a green field with an image of the Virgin and Child in the right hand corner’. In John’s time; the cross was kept under guard in the Abbey, the candlestick in the royal treasury at Westminster – however, neither can be located today (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p45-6). In fact, the Chapel itself also betrays a frustrating lack of dark-Age artefacts. It was excavated in 1967, and two buildings were discovered – the one dating from the 14^th Century, which enclosed one of late Saxon or early medieval date. Despite the presence of the graves and certain timber structures, both of which would make the site one of pre-Conquest interest, but for a few Roman finds no pre-Saxon objects have been excavated from Beckery. This effectively removes it from Arthurian-archaeological consideration (Rahtz, 1975; p121-2).

While many are unaware of all aspects of its history - in 1539, for example, following the dissolution of the Abbey, Abbot Whiting was hung on the Tor (WEB REF. 4) – and there is much about it which we are still unfamiliar, Glastonbury Tor is a place of great fascination for many. Dowsers have pronounced it hollow (Howard-Gordon,1982; WEB REF. 5), and mythical tales relating to it abound. Within books of Arthurian archaeology, it merits at least equal page space as the Abbey itself, and though it would not seem to be possible, its associations are even more mystical. While its name does not hold much significance - ‘Tor’ is an old West Country word, meaning ‘hill’ (Ashe, 1987; p13) – the landmass itself certainly does.

Glastonbury Tor [pictured left] is a hill of Jurassic blue limestone capped with sandstone, with steep slopes and a flat summit, thought to have been levelled for the building of the late mediaeval church of St Michael (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p46-7). It is twelve miles away from South Cadbury Castle, which has been believed by some to be the site of the mythical Camelot since John Leland, the Tudor antiquary, wrote as such in 1542 (Alcock & Ashe, 1975; p123-5). While the Tor rises to over 500 feet, and is visible from twenty miles away, its uniqueness lies not in its height, but in the steep nature of its upper slopes, a landscape feature unusual in Somerset (Rahtz, 1975; p114). The Tor is, as Ashe (1987; p13, 16) and many others have noted, a natural formation, albeit one artificially shaped, by both the summit levelling and by the terracing (or similar) at its base. Although the Tor’s unusual shape cannot be wholly credited to human workers, intent on creating a good defensive site for a castle stronghold, its position and steep slopes have meant that it has, most likely, been used to defensive advantage (Rahtz, 1975; p114).

An Arthurian connection with the Isle of Glastonbury is first recorded in Caradoc of Llancarfan’s biographical ‘Life of Gildas’, which was written in approximately 1150. Here the story is told of the kidnap of Arthur’s queen – Melwas, king of Somerset (Aestiva Regio), had abducted (violatum et raptam) Guinevere, and held her captive at Glastonbury. Following a lengthy search, her husband rallies an army from Devon and Cornwall, and rides on Glastonbury to besiege Melwas. However, due to the intervention of Gildas, and the Abbot and clergy of Glastonbury, a treaty is arranged, Guinevere is ‘restored’ to Arthur, and peace is brought about. Both Arthur and Melwas come to worship in the Old Abbey Church of St. Mary, and endow the foundation with estates. If there were factual basis to Caradoc’s tale, then Glastonbury Tor would ‘form the only reasonable locale for the action, making perfect sense as the stronghold of Melwas’ (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p47-8). Rahtz who himself excavated the topmost part of the Tor, between 1964 and 1966 (Ashe, 1987; p17), also comes to the same conclusion about the location of Melwas’ stronghold (Rahtz, 1975; p121).

Rahtz (1975; p119) feels that the dark-age settlement on Glastonbury Tor can be seen as either religious or defensive. Its remote and inaccessible position guarantees seclusion and exposure as well as an excellent view, and although it does not have a water supply, water is available from the Chalice Well at the foot of the hill; these features make it suitable as both a religious hermitage and a military stronghold.

The essay ‘de Antiquitate Glastoniensis Ecclesiae’ (which has been wrongly attributed to William of Malmesbury) records the story of a Tor visit by St. Patrick. He and a companion spent three months fasting in the ancient chapel, and when admonished in a vision to return to the Abbey, he decided two monks should always remain on the Tor so as to serve the chapel (Radford & Sawnton, 1985; p47). The Glastonbury Abbey website (WEB REF. 1) records 443 as the ‘probable’ year of St. Patrick’s visit, and it was believed that the old church of St. Mary housed his relics (Radford, 1975; p103). Despite this, however, the archaeological evidence unearthed does seem to be in favour of the site having a military history.

The archaeological finds from the Tor suggest that its inhabitants lived in timber buildings on the sheltered south and east sides of the summit, eating large quantities of meat joints, working with metal and using imported Mediterranean amphorae (most probably for drinking wine although it was not uncommon at this time for such jars to be used for storage). Other digs have shown that such pottery-usage and metal-working were common features of Christian sites – the quantity of meat bones, however, is at odds with what is known of the disciplined diet of early Celtic monks. By contrast, the inhabitants of a defensive or quasi-military site would have eaten such large quantities of meat. They would also have made use of the imported pottery, and the metal-working evidence – such as the bronze-head pictured below (actual size) – would correlate with their desire for weaponry and ornamentation, suggesting the site was a permanently held one (Rahtz, 1975; p119-21).

In 1966, the three hills of Cadbury, Glastonbury Tor and Dinas Powys (in South Wales) were identified as dark-age royal sites. It was also noted that the three lie in a line cutting almost directly across the sea and the low country of Somerset and South Wales – Brent Knoll is also close to this straight line (Ashe, 1975; p157).

It has been postulated by Rahtz (1975; p120) that Glastonbury Tor functioned as a military ‘signalling-station’, which formed part of a ‘system’ of related defensive sites; he himself notes, however, that this theory has neither historical nor archaeological support. While the buildings and meat-bone remains which were found on the Tor and dated to the dark-ages would support this hypothesis, the metal-working and pottery fragments do not. Nevertheless, it remains true that experiments proved a beacon lit at Cadbury could be clearly seen from the Tor. A defensive arrangement of this ilk between Arthur and the lords of the other hills would have been in keeping with Nennius’ statement that the ‘dux bellorum fought alongside the kings of the Britons’ (Ashe, 1975; p157).

The remains excavated by Rahtz are by no means the Tor’s only physical links with the Arthurian period. Geoffrey Russell has put forward the theory that the terraced effect on the Tor are in fact remains of a three-dimensional maze (Rahtz, 1975; p114). The hypothesis has been tested by Geoffrey Ashe (1987; p16), who has walked around the Tor’s terraces to see if the maze pattern would fit – he concluded in Russell’s favour.

Frances Howard-Gordon (1982, WEB REF. 5) believes that the seven circuit Tor maze was created for ritual purposes in order to honour the Goddess (or Earth Mother), and attributes its spiral shape to the symbolic journey of the soul through life, death and rebirth. She also notes the spiral’s visible similarity to the coils of a dragon or serpent, which was a Pagan symbol of the Primal Mother or Earth Spirit – if this is so, then building a church dedicated to the dragon-slayer St. Michael at its summit seems a particularly prudent move by the Christians.

Mazes were once linked to beliefs about the Underworld, and the Tor has been referred to in legend as hollow, and a point of Underworld entry. That Caradoc’s tale of Melwas’ abduction of Guinevere should be so reminiscent of the Hades/Persephone myth, whereby the God of the Underworld stole Demeter’s daughter, ties in nicely with this belief that the Tor serves as an otherworldly entrance.

The church on its summit, of which only the tower [pictured below] now remains, was dedicated to St. Michael, known as the ‘archangelic conqueror of the infernal powers’, and therefore the perfect candidate to guard a potential Hellmouth (Ashe, 1987; p16-7). Further credence to this idea is added by Ashe (1987; p17) who gleefully points out that the Tor’s previous church of St. Michael was destroyed by an earthquake in 1275 – ‘a disaster so rare in England that one might be excused for wondering whether the infernal powers were entirely suppressed’. Indeed, in the mid-16^th Century, the Jesuit writer William Weston was told by an old Catholic who lived at the foot of the Tor that such were the distressed noises he heard coming from it that he believed the hill to be ‘a kind of approach or vestibule for souls passing into the pains of Purgatory’ (Ashe, 1987; p35).

Frances Howard-Gordon (1982, WEB REF. 5) has noted mazes – as well as mounds, standing-stones, hill-forts and earthworks – to be sites of especial significance to faeries, a link born out by another Underworld-related Tor story. It tells of the Welsh holy man St. Collen who, while living a hermit’s life in ‘a cell under a rock’ on the Tor, insulted the king of the fairy-folk, by calling him and his people demons. This king, Gwyn Ap Nudd, was reputed to ride with Arthur on the Wild Hunt through the clouds, and was also the lord of the Underworld (or ‘Annwfn’ as the Welsh called it). Invited into the Tor through a ‘magical opening’, St. Collen was brought before the King; however, by scattering holy water, the saint caused the palace and all its inhabitants to vanish (Ashe, 1987; p16-7). Although this palace can still not be seen today, the story of St. Collen is a good example of one which cannot necessarily be ‘proven’ by archaeology (unless digs reveal underground graffiti saying ‘Gwyn Ap Nudd was here’ and helpful signposts for those who wish to visit the Underworld). Nevertheless, the tale is certainly one which can be ‘fitted’ to the landscape. Although ‘magical openings’ into the hillside are sadly lacking, a would-be hermit could undoubtedly dig a nook out behind one of the Tor’s few rocks as a ‘secret place out of the way’ in which to live (Ashe, 1987; p17). The Tor’s proximity to both the Chalice Well, and also the Abbey would also be suitable for a holy man.

Of course, the landscape fitting neatly with a story’s details is more unusual if the tale did not originate amongst locals familiar with their surrounding geography.

The anonymous author of ‘Perlesvaus’ or ‘The High History Of The Holy Grail’, composed in around 1225 and supposedly drawn from a lost Abbey document (Ashe, 1975; p10), described a visit to Glastonbury by Sir Lancelot; he rides up a hill, and espies a spring, chapel and several hermits, all of which would have then been in place on or near the Tor (Ashe, 1987; p21). Written by someone familiar with the Glastonbury area, it is unsurprising that these details match as they do. Indeed, some of the settings of the Arthurian tales – such as that of central Wales in the poem ‘Rhonabwy’s Dream’ (Brewer, 1985; p8) – were deliberately written into the stories. That we can actually find the places mentioned does not prove the legends themselves to be real, just that their authors were familiar with the geography of their setting.

Far more interesting is when places are chosen as settings by authors who could not possibly have known how archaeology would ‘back up’ their designations. In 1542, for example, when John Leland wrote of Cadbury as Camelot where ‘Arture much resortid’, his choice was based on both local testimony and its situation – South Cadbury Castle crowns a 500 foot hill twelve miles from Glastonbury Tor (Alcock & Ashe, 1975; p125). Modern-day support for his hypothesis has come, at least in part, from archaeological evidence. Excavations have revealed Cadbury to be unique amongst other such hill forts – none had been refortified to the same extent during the 5^th and 6^th Centuries, none were using the same stone and timber system, and none featured gate houses, all of which were agreed features of Camelot. However, even if this were not the actual site of Arthur’s Camelot, it is certain that Cadbury did function as the headquarters for a chieftain or king with unrivalled resources (Ashe, 1985; p49).

Another ‘proving point’ is when details are added to the tales, very much true to the time in which they were set, but not of the period in which they were written. For example, excavation at Cadbury revealed a human sacrifice by the south-east bend of the top rampart. The fate of that young man, who had been ‘rammed’ head-first into a pit as ‘supernatural support’ for the building above, was to have been that of the youthful Merlin. Within Geoffrey of Monmouth’s ‘History of the Kings of Britain’, Merlin makes his debut in the writings as the intended sacrifice for such a building. (Ashe, 1987; p47). Such an archaeological discovery adds credence to literary details such as this one, which draws on pagan customs and could not have been witnessed by the author.

‘Whatever the truth about Glastonbury’s origins and its links with Arthur, it was a place where Arthur’s Britain lived on and remained a reality after the Saxon conquest.’ (Ashe, 1975; p190)

All of the sources which I have read, whether scientifically-minded or no, have concluded that there were two Arthurs, one of history and one for whom legend gave way to myth. Trying to separate the two is problematic, trying to ‘prove’ the existence of either using archaeology is almost impossible. What can be seen, using archaeology, is that the stories had good grounding, that certain features of the landscape or of buildings were true to the times in which the tales were set. Convenient as the Abbey legend of the Arthurian record destroyer may be archaeologists are doing their best to fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle – perhaps one day the red-eyed Black Knight can be removed from duty. As it is, archaeological techniques are doing a sterling job of grounding the Arthurian tales in some sort of reality, proving an archaeological approach to mythology can be beneficial to all sides.

Bibliography

Alcock, Leslie; Ashe, Geoffrey. 1975 (1968). ‘Cadbury: Is It Camelot?’. Pp 123-147 in

Geoffrey Ashe (Ed.)’s ‘The Quest For Arthur’s Britain’. St. Albans: Paladin

Ashe, Geoffrey. (Photographs by Simon McBride.) 1987. ‘The Landscape Of King

Arthur’. Devon: Webb & Bower

Ashe, Geoffrey. 1975 (1968). ‘The Quest For Arthur’s Britain’. St. Albans: Paladin

Bewer, Derek. (Photographs by Ernest Frankl.) 1985. ‘Arthur’s Britain: The Land and

Legend.’ Cambridge: Pevensey Press

Cox, George; Jones, Eustace. 1995 (1871). ‘Arthurian Legends of the Middle Ages.’

London: Senate

(First published in 1871 as ‘Popular Romances of the Middle Ages’ by the London firm of Longmans, Green & Co.)

Radford, C.A. Raleigh; Swanton, Michael J. 1985 (1975). ‘Arthurian Sites In The

West.’ Fifth Impression. Exmouth: University Of Exeter Press

Radford, C.A. Ralegh. 1975 (1968). ‘Glastonbury Abbey’. Pp 97-110 in Geoffrey Ashe

(Ed.)’s ‘The Quest For Arthur’s Britain’. St. Albans: Paladin

Rahtz, Philip. 1975 (1968). ‘Glastonbury Tor’. Pp 111-122 in Geoffrey Ashe (Ed.)’s

‘The Quest For Arthur’s Britain’. St. Albans: Paladin

Renfrew, Colin; Bahn, Paul. 2000. (1991) ‘Archaeology: Theories Methods and

Practice.’ Third Edition. London: Thames & Hudson

Web references

WEB REF. 1: The Abbots of Glastonbury Abbey

- (The Official Glastonbury Abbey Web-Page)

- http://www.glastonburyabbey.com/history/abbots.htm

WEB REF. 2: The Ancient Legends of Glastonbury Abbey

- (The Official Glastonbury Abbey Web-Page)

- http://www.glastonburyabbey.com/myths/myths.htm

WEB REF. 3: ‘A Travellers Guide to Ancient Britain’

- (Gothic Image Publishing Site)

- ‘Glastonbury’ Chapter of Geoffrey Ashe’s Book

- http://www.gothicimage.co.uk/books/arthurianbritain2.html

WEB REF. 4: The Chronology Of Glastonbury Abbey

- (The Official Glastonbury Abbey Web-Page)

- http://www.glastonburyabbey.com/history/chronology.htm

WEB REF. 5: ‘Glastonbury: Maker Of Myths’

- (Gothic Image Publishing Site)

- Chapter 1 of Frances Howard-Gordan’s 1982 Book

- http://www.gothicimage.co.uk/books/makerofmyths1.html

WEB REF. 6: The History Of Glastonbury Abbey

- (The Official Glastonbury Abbey Web-Page)

- http://www.glastonburyabbey.com/history/history.htm

Illustrations Are Taken From:

Ashe, Geoffrey. 1975 (1968). ‘The Quest For Arthur’s Britain’. St. Albans: Paladin

- Chalice Well, p13

- Glastonbury Tor, Aerial View, p15

Radford, C.A. Raleigh; Swanton, Michael J. 1985 (1975). ‘Arthurian Sites In The

West.’ Fifth Impression. Exmouth: University Of Exeter Press

- Glastonbury Island Map, p4

- Inscribed Leaden Funerary Cross Woodcut, p10

- Glastonbury Abbey Map, p11

- Bronze-head Escutcheon, p17

WEB REF. 2: The Ancient Legends of Glastonbury Abbey

- King Arthur Drawing, p2

- Exhumation Painting, p9

- Grave-site Marker Board, p12

- Stained Glass Window of Joseph of Arimathea, p13

- St. Michael’s Tower, p18

WEB REF. 6: The History Of Glastonbury Abbey

- Artist’s Impression Of The Original Glastonbury Settlement, p6

- http://www.glastonburyabbey.com/history/history.htm

Last revised: 31/03/03