Departure of Rome from Britain

By E S Moxon

In the 4th Century the senior administration of Britain sat in Gaul. Military command had become regionalised with whoever sat over the Eastern Empire based in Constantinople and the Western Empire was ruled from Rome. Meanwhile the Christian church was gaining power and, depending on the religious leanings of who sat on the throne, persecutions were weighted against Pagans (including the old Roman pantheon of gods) or Christians.

The start of the demise of Roman rule in Britain isn’t easy to pinpoint, however it could have begun with the death of Constantine in AD337. For three months there was no rule in Britain while his 3 sons (Constantine II, Constans and Constantius II) squabbled over who would rule what and where. A military revolt arose in Constantinople refusing any successor but a son of Constantine and other members of the Imperial family were murdered to ensure this. For Britain, little changed as Constantine II emerged as Senior Augustus in control of Britain, Gaul and Spain.

Emperor Constantius II on Amethyst

This was not enough for Constantine II, who launched a failed attack on Constans’ domain in Italy during AD340. Then when Constans was killed by conspirators in AD350, a Germanic mercenary named Magnetius was proclaimed Augustus. Using frontier reinforcement troops in Britain (leaving these posts lacking in defence), Magnetius challenged Constantius II (Augustus of the East in Constantinople) and was victorious. Magnetius ruled for three years, allowing Pagan worship in Britain, until his defeat in Gaul at the hands of Constantius II.

This allowed Constantius to declare himself sole Augustus of the entire Roman Empire, ruling both eastern and western frontiers. He reintroduced the death penalty for Pagan worship or sacrifice. The religious barometer swung back to Christianity once more. Sympathisers of Magnetius were punished severely and many villas became abandoned as high officials fled. These sumptuous places became home to squatters or servants’ families left behind.

City of Constantinople 

The religious barometer swung back to Paganism around AD355 when Constantius gave his young cousin Julian rule of Britain and Gaul. The new Caesar was passionate about literature and the ancient Roman gods. There is no mention of Christians being persecuted during this time, so we must assume that both old and new faiths co-existed and were freely worshipped. It seems Julian was perhaps an idealist, attempting to embrace the past and the future.

Admired by his troops for being an extraordinary general, he quickly drew disfavour from Constantius who resented his younger cousin’s popularity. The family quarrel led to a military revolt against Constantius, who died before the cousins could meet in battle and the troops declared Julian sole Augustus. In response to this, possibly feeling brave, Julian came out as a devoted Pagan and restored Roman observances of the old pantheon.

Aberlemno Pictish Cross

By AD367 a quarter of the Roman army was Germanic in origin (and therefore most likely Pagan). Britain was now being harassed from all sides by the Picts, Saxons, Scotts and Attacotti. To compound things, troubles in the Eastern Empire meant garrisons from Britain were removed to assist. Once again this depleted the frontier defences of Britain during a period of intense attacks by several foes. These foes were opportunists and seized their moment. The Franks and Saxons invaded Gaul, while Picts, Scotts and Attacotti attacked Britain, causing Roman officials to abandon their posts.

Over the next twenty-five years Rome battled the mercenaries, attempting to regain control and restore Roman rule in its splintered Western Empire. Valentian ruled the Imperial family until his hanging in AD391, but lost control of Britain with the arrival of Magnus Maximus in AD383, who led a victory against the Picts and Scotts (something Rome had failed to do) and invaded Gaul, setting up a court at Trier where he was baptised Catholic. His defeat came at the hands of Theodosius in AD388 when they were defeated at Aquilea. Before his death in AD395 Theodosius ordered repairs along Hadrian’s Wall and the construction of watch-towers along the north-eastern coast. He also tried to help the Christian diocese to recover.

Hadrian's Wall

By now the Pennine and Welsh forts were abandoned. Britain must have been a bleak and savage place, with Germanic mercenaries billeted in towns and control being snatched repeatedly from the hands of the Imperial Roman family. In AD392 Eugenius, Arbogastes and Flavianus arrived on the scene. Theodosius battled Eugenius in AD394 and won, no doubt refusing to allow usurpers to undo all his hard work on frontier fortification. As a result of Eugenius’ defeat, Arbogastes and Flavianus committed suicide.

The descendants of Theodosius, Arcadius and Honorius, were both Augustus, with the latter ruling into the beginning of the 5th Century. What then of the fate of Britain? After such turmoil, could Rome hold onto her and rule successfully? It appeared so for a while at least. Following the demise of Theodosius in AD395, his sons took over. In AD398 they repelled a joint Pict/Scott invasion with their western troops, who were mostly Germanic mercenaries, those called ‘foederati’. These barbarian troops were at the forefront of guarding Britain, along Hadrian’s Wall and the east coast shore forts. However, despite their military successes, Fate frowned on Rome.

Stilicho negotiating with Goths

In AD401 the Goth, Alaric came over the Alps and had Rome securely in his sights. Stilicho, a ‘magister militum’ who had married a niece of Thoedosius, wintered in the Danube desperately trying to recruit additional barbarian troops. This was to no avail. With almost no financial assistance from Honorius it had been hard to raise men to the cause. The barbarian army revolted against Stilicho and crossed back over the Rhine.

Meanwhile in Britain, they had had revolts of their own. The army made a Romano-Briton named ‘Gratian’ their leader, who was swiftly disposed of and replaced with Constantine III who moved to Gaul before the barbarian Germanic army of Stilicho could cross the Channel. The barbarians turned south. By AD407 Constantine III had taken back Gaul with his son and took Britain in AD408, forcing Honorius to accept Britain as a prefecture under Gaul in AD409. But there was more upheaval to come.

Alaric and his Goth army sacked Rome in AD410. In a panic to raise troops, all garrisons from Britain were recalled. This caused a civil war to erupt as several sought the title of Augustus and were forced to raise their own armies to fend off barbarian attacks. They ejected Roman officials from their offices and by AD413 no attempts had been made by Rome to bring Britain back under the rule of Honorius. Rome had certainly fallen, at the very least, in Britain.


Bibliography:

“Roman Britain” by Martin Millett (English Heritage)

“Oxford Illustrated History of Roman Britain” by Peter Salway

“Britain AD” by Francis Pryor

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E S MOXON has had a lifelong passion for history and writing. A childhood filled with family visits to ancient burial sites and stone circles fuelled her imagination. Inspired by classic medieval tales and Norse sagas, Elaine imagined herself inhabiting these Dark Ages and exploring the landscapes in her mind and continues to do so through her novels.

Tales of the Wulfsuna

Unlucky Usurpers and Proud Tyrants: The Leadership of Fifth Century Britain

by Chris Thorndycroft

Many books have been written on the chaotic period preceding and following the Roman withdrawal from Britain in 410 A.D., and it is perhaps because we know so little about it that there is so much to discuss.

A rough idea of how the four provinces of
Britain (created by the Diocletian Reform)
looked in the fifth century. Their
arrangement is still a matter of debate.

It was a time of invasions and rebellions. The Picts, once held in check by Hadrian’s Wall, swarmed down from the north. The Irish raided and settled in the west. Saxon and Gaulish pirates roved the Channel. To add to this, Britain was a hotbed of rebellion with the legions stationed there choosing their own candidates for the position of emperor leading to the abandonment of posts and lengthy wars on the continent.

Rome responded as best it could. Some sort of reshuffling of the military organization in the mid fourth century is evident in the creation of three new military posts mentioned in the Notitia Dignitatum (The List of Offices). The first is the Comes Britanniarum; commander of the mobile field army on the island. The other two are the Dux Britanniarum (commander of the northern frontier including Hadrian’s Wall) and the Comes littoris Saxonici (commander of the Saxon Shore).

This last one is of interest for it seems to coincide with the building of several shore forts along the south-east coast. These ‘Saxon Shore’ forts may have been so named for their function as a defense against Saxon raiders or they may have been operated by mercenary Saxon frontier troops (foederati).

These measures eventually proved futile for in 407 a soldier stationed in Britain was declared ‘Constantine III of the Western Roman Empire’ and took all his troops with him to prove his point in Gaul, effectively leaving Britain open to attack. He was defeated and executed and in 410, Rome officially washed its hands of the troublesome province when Emperor Honorius told its leaders to “look to their own defences”.

Coin of Constantine III, the Roman general who was declared Western Roman
Emperor and removed the last vestiges of Roman authority from Britain.

But who were these leaders? What sort of government was left in the wake of the Roman withdrawal? With no official bodies connected to the Empire and no promise of military intervention from the continent, surely the island reverted back to a climate of chaotic tribalism?

Perhaps or perhaps not.

Portchester Castle, the Saxon shore fort of Portus
Adurni which became the outer bailey wall of a
Norman castle. Credit: Rob Nunn.

A monk called Gildas wrote his scathing On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain sometime in the sixth century and described some sort of council ruling Britain in those days. He also mentions a ‘proud tyrant’ or ‘unlucky usurper’ who invited a group of Saxons to settle on the eastern shores of Britain in order to repel the Picts.

This mysterious tyrant of the Britons has become a figure of particular interest from the period, as much as Hengest and Horsa and even King Arthur. ‘Vortigern’ is the name often given to him but even that is a matter of debate with various spellings including ‘Gwrtheyrn’, ‘Wyrtgeorn’ and ‘Guothergirn’. We do not even know if this was a personal name or a title but Vortigern seems to have been a figure of considerable power in fifth century Britain.

Bede, who wrote his Ecclesiastical History of the English People in the eighth century, first provides the name as ‘Vertigernus’. It was also Bede who first named the leaders of the Saxons as ‘Hengist and Horsa’. As king of the British people, Vertigernus invites the Saxons to settle in Britain for pay. A condition of this was presumably engagement with the enemy who were “come from the north to give battle” and are later revealed to be the Picts.

This story is elaborated by the Bangor-born monk Nennius in his History of the British People, written sometime in the ninth century. A mixture of history and colourful local legend, this work is to be treated with caution but it does present a fascinating story.

Receiving Hengist and Horsa as friends, Vortigern (named here as Guorthirgirn) hands over the isle of Thanet in exchange for their service as foederati against the Picts. Hengist later sends for more of his countrymen who bring with them his beautiful daughter. A feast is held and Vortigern, plied with drink, falls so in love with Hengest’s daughter that he demands her in exchange for the whole of Kent. This is without the knowledge of Kent’s king; Guoyrancgonus.

So who was Vortigern really? Nennius’s ‘king of the British people’ is unlikely as Britain would have been in the throes of chaos after Rome’s withdrawal and the idea of a single king ruling the entire island is implausible. Gildas’s mentioning of a council is perhaps more probable and something aping the old Roman administrative system is easy to imagine with governors and tribunes devolving over time, back into chieftains and eventually kings.

It is possible that Vortigern is a title rather than a personal name as a literal translation from the Brittonic word appears as ‘overlord’ (‘wor’ = over and ‘tigerno’ = lord). But many scholars insist that this doesn’t prove anything as ‘tigerno’ appears in several personal names like ‘Catigern’ and ‘Kentigern’.

Vortigern’s family is outlined by Nennius who states that he had four sons; Vortimer, Catigern, Pascent and Faustus (son of his incestuous affair with his unnamed daughter). More information might be gleaned from the Pillar of Eliseg; a ninth century monument erected in Denbighshire, Wales by Cyngen ap Cadell, king of Powys.

The Latin text on the Pillar of Eliseg is now illegible due to weathering, but a transcription was made by the antiquarian Edward Llwyd in 1696. It claims that Guarthi(gern) (Vortigern) was married to Severa, the daughter of Magnus Maximus; the usurper who famously rebelled against Emperor Gratian. The pillar names the sons of this union as; Britu and Pascen(t), the latter of which is the ancestor of the kings of Powys.

If Vortigern really did marry Severa, daughter of Magnus Maximus, it would most likely have been before 388, which was when Maximus was defeated and executed (politically speaking, a marriage after this date would have been worthless). Severa could scarcely have been younger than seventy by 447 – the date traditionally associated with the arrival of Hengest and Horsa, making the Guarthi(gern) of the pillar a little old to be the Vortigern mentioned by Bede and Nennius.

Unless it referred to his father.

If Vortigern was indeed a title, it may have passed from father to son, making the Vortigern of later texts the son of the union between Guarthi(gern) and Severa.

So what then, was Vortigern’s real name? The History of the Britons gives his genealogy and his grandfather and great grandfather were called Guitaul (Vital) and Guitolion (Vitalin) respectively. This hints at a common family name that may have been something like ‘Vitalinus’ or ‘Vitalis’. Interestingly, Nennius goes on to say that during the reign of Vortigern, there was a battle between Ambrosius and Guitolinus (Vitalinus). Was this a separate person, or the given name for Britain’s ‘overlord’.

We don’t know what the battle was about or who won, but Ambrosius is a name well attested elsewhere. Gildas first mentions an Ambrosius Aurelianus who “perhaps alone of the Romans, had survived the shock of this notable storm. Certainly his parents, who had worn the purple, were slain by it.”

‘Wearing the purple’ could refer to the imperial colour, or perhaps the purple band worn by Roman military tribunes, so it seems that we are dealing with a noble of imperial stock or a high-ranking military commander. Gildas makes it clear that Ambrosius was some sort of military figure to which the Britons flocked (perhaps the last Comes Britanniarum). His wars with the Saxons ultimately culminated in the siege of Badon Hill (later sources like the History of the Britons credit Arthur as the victor of this battle, not Ambroisus).

As well as the aforementioned war between Ambrosius and Vitalinus, Nennius states that Vortigern eventually handed over all his lands and fortresses to Ambrosius, who granted a large share of them to Vortigern’s son Pascent. It certainly looks like Ambrosius won a significant victory over Vortigern in addition to his success against the Saxons.

The tale of the destruction and eventual death of Vortigern is dominated by the figure of Bishop Germanus of Auxerre. The Life of Saint Germanus, written in about 480 A.D. by Constantius of Lyons, states that Bishop Germanus and his companion, Bishop Lupus of Troyes, originally voyaged to Britain in about 429 A.D. to combat the Pelagian Heresy. There, through debate and preaching, they won many back to the Augustinian teachings.

As with the lives of many saints, miracles were also performed including the healing of a blind girl by the holding of Germanus’s reliquary to her eyes. Germanus even leads a British army against a confederation of Picts and Saxons and, by chanting the “Alleluia”, manages to rout the enemy without even having to strike a blow.

A later chapter reveals that Germanus returned to Britain (possibly around 447 A.D.) as Pelagianism was once again on the rise. A healing miracle is performed once again, this time for the crippled son of Elafius, described as a leading man in the country.

The Life of Saint Germanus makes no mention of Vortigern but Nennius further elaborates on Germanus’s second visit to Britain beginning with his confrontation of a tyrannical king called Benlli. After Benlli’s city is obliterated by “fire from heaven” Germanus raises a peasant called Catel Drunlue (Cadell Derynllug in the Welsh genealogies) to the position of king.

Germanus then goes to the court of Vortigern who has, much to everyone’s outrage, married his daughter and sired a son on her to whom Nennius gives the name ‘Faustus’. Germanus gives the boy razor, scissors and comb and tells him to present them to his true father. The boy gives these items to Vortigern who “arose in great anger, and fled from the presence of St. Germanus, execrated and condemned by the whole synod.”

Vortigern’s son, Vortimer, rises to the position left vacant by his father and wages war on Hengist and Horsa, driving them back to the isle of Thanet. Three more battles take place, the first upon the River Darent, the second at ‘Epsford’ (possibly Aylesford as the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle records the battle as taking place at ‘Agaelesthrep’) where both Horsa and Vortimer’s brother Catigern fall. The last battle was “near the stone on the shore of the Gallic sea, where the Saxons being defeated, fled to their ships.”

Vortimer then mysteriously dies and, in a forerunner to the Welsh tale of Bran the Blessed, commands that his body be buried upon the spot where the Saxons first landed so that they may never land there again. His commands are ignored of course, resulting in the eventual Saxon conquest of most of Britain.

Vortigern returns to power on the death of his son and is invited by Hengist, along with his nobles and military officers, to a feast where, in the original Night of the Long Knives, his men butcher them all. Vortigern alone is allowed to live whom Hengist hopes to ransom for his daughter’s return. More land is turned over to the Saxons including “the three provinces of East, South, and Middle Sex.”

On the run again from the fury of Germanus, Vortigern flees to “the kingdom of the Dimetae where, on the river Towy, he built a castle, which he named Cair Guothergirn” (literally ‘Castle Vortigern’). Fire once again falls from heaven and destroys this castle, killing Vortigern, Hengist’s daughter and all its other inhabitants.

With obscure mentions of leaders like Elafius, a king called Benlli, a council, and a ‘proud tyrant’ called Vortigern, it seems clear that Britain was in a transitional phase at this time and was anything but united. From later genealogies provided in medieval Welsh sources, we can see that the ex-Roman province fragmented into many small kingdoms, each ruled by separate dynasties who could trace their lineage back to the likes of Cadell, the peasant given King Benlli’s throne by Bishop Germanus.

Ambrosius and Vortigern, whoever they were, also figure in genealogies and place names, suggesting that, if some sort of council had tried to maintain control over the island in the wake of the Roman withdrawal, it most likely gave out to laws of blood succession. Personal interests most likely won out as Britain’s leaders began to hoard territory and carve out their own lands which they ruled as kings, much in the same way that their enemies, the Saxons, did in the east, eventually giving rise to what we now call Wales and England.

Sources

William Fairley, Notitia Dignitatum or Register of Dignitaries, in Translations and Reprints from Original Sources of European History, Vol. VI:4 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, n.d.)

Williams, Hugh ed. and trans.: Gildas, The Ruin of Britain &c. (1899), Cymmrodorion Record Series, No. 3

Bede: Ecclesiastical History of the English People, trans. Leo Shirley-Price, (St Ives 1990)

Nennius: The Historia Brittonum, trans. John Allan Giles, in: Six Old English Chronicles, of which two are now first translated from the monkish Latin originals (George Bell and Sons, London 1891)

Constantius of Lyon: The Life of St. Germanus of Auxerre, eds. Thomas Noble and Thomas Head, translators, in: Soldiers of Christ: Saints' Lives from Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, (Pennsylvania State University Press, 1994), pp. 75-106

www.vortigernstudies.org

[This is an Editor's Choice archive post, originally published on EHFA on 20th Jan, 2016]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris Thorndycroft is the author of the Hengest and Horsa Trilogy which is set in 5th century Britain and involves Vortigern, Ambrosius Aurelianus and a whole host of other real figures of the period. He has also written the ghost story The Visitor at Anningley Hall (a prequel to M. R. James’s ‘The Mezzotint’). Visit his blog here; https://christhorndycroft.wordpress.com/

The Many Faces of Arthur – 3 Historical Candidates

by Chris Thorndycroft

It is widely believed that the King Arthur of legend has some kernel of truth in a real, albeit shadowy, 5th century warrior called simply Arthur. No King of Camelot. No Merlin. No Round Table. Just Arthur. The History of the Britons credited to the 9th century monk Nennius calls this Arthur a ‘Dux Bellorum’ (leader of battles) who rallied a British resistance against the invading Anglo Saxons after Rome severed its ties with Britain in the 5th century. Aside from a couple of mentions in the Welsh Annals that claim Arthur won a great victory at the Battle of Badon and fell at the ‘strife of Camlann’ along with somebody called Medraut, everything else we know about him comes from poetry, folklore and fiction.

But there are several figures in the late to post-Roman period whose exploits have some parallels with what little we know of him and his more fanciful exploits in later legend. Much theorising has been done in trying to establish various figures as the ‘real King Arthur’. Let’s take a look at three popular candidates.  

Funerary memorial from late 2nd/early 3rd century dedicated to 'Lucius Atorius Castus'. Found in Podstrana (Croatia) in 1850 and published in Francesco Carrara “De’ Scavi di Salona nel 1850: Con cinque tavole” (1852)

Lucius Artorius Castus

This Roman military commander probably lived between 175 and 250 A.D. which is a good two centuries before the end of Roman rule in Britain. All we know of him comes from a couple of stone inscriptions found in Croatia which give an outline of his military career, listing the legions he served in. One of these legions - the VI Victrix - (of which Artorius was a prefect) was stationed in Britain from around 122 A.D. It seems that Artorius was later promoted to Dux Legionum (General of the Legions) and commanded ‘Brittannician’ units (possibly referring to auxiliary units that had served in Britain) against either the Amoricans or Armenians. 

His name alone makes him an interesting candidate. 'Arthur' comes to us via the Latin family name ‘Artorius’ which was borrowed into Welsh and there seem to have been no Artoriuses/Arthurs in Britain before the time of Lucius Artorius Castus. It was the historian Kemp Malone who first put forward the idea of Artorius as the original King Arthur. C. Scott Littleton and Linda A. Malcor expanded on this theory, linking him to 5,500 Sarmatian auxiliary troops sent to Britain in 175 A.D. after their defeat by Emperor Marcus Aurelius. 

Parallels have been drawn between Sarmatian customs and elements of Arthurian legend such as carrying a dragon standard and worshiping a sword thrust into the ground reminiscent of the sword in the stone. However, most of these Sarmatian customs cannot be reliably traced back to Roman times and their counterparts in Arthurian legend are relatively late additions. Also, there is no evidence that Lucius Artorius Castus had anything to do with the Sarmatian auxiliaries other than that they were both in Britain at the same time.  

The stone fragments in Croatia are in poor shape and there has been much debate as to their interpretation, specifically of Artorius’s rank. Malcor suggests that ‘prefect of the legion’ meant that he was a fort commander who became an unofficial ‘commander of the region’ leading Sarmatian cavalry units. Others interpret the rank as ‘camp prefect’; a different rank and mainly an administrative role given to soldiers at the end of their career meaning he wouldn’t have seen much action while in Britain. That does however, make his subsequent promotion to Dux Legionum a little unusual. Incidentally, while this title may echo the ‘Dux Bellorum’ bestowed on Arthur by Nennius, the former was an official Roman title while the latter seems to have been an informal way of saying ‘military leader’ in the Latin tongue.

The 2004 movie King Arthur starring Clive Owen and Keira Knightley is based on the Sarmatian theory (Linda A. Malcor was a consultant on the film). Set in 467 AD, Artorius is a descendant of the original Lucius Artorius Castus and his Sarmatian ‘knights’ include the unlikely names of Lancelot, Galahad and Gawain. 

The Arthurian prototype? 'Emrys Wledig' (Ambrosius the Ruler) from a 15th century Welsh language version of Geoffrey of Monmouth’s History of the Kings of Britain. 

Ambrosius Aurelianus

The most damning argument against the existence of a real Arthur is that the 6th century monk Gildas – the closest thing we have to a contemporary commentator – makes no mention of him. In his religious rant On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain, Gildas makes it clear that it was Ambrosius Aurelianus who was the champion of the Britons and then goes on to mention the siege of Badon Hill as the last great defeat over the Saxons (a battle later credited to Arthur in the History of the Britons).  

An explanation for Arthur’s absence is suggested in the 12th century Life of Gildas by the cleric Caradoc of Llancarfan. Arthur, Caradoc explains, slew Gildas’s older brother Hueil and one might assume that Gildas would be less than enthusiastic to sing his praises and may even strike his name from the record entirely. 

Gildas presents Ambrosius Aurelianus as a man of noble Roman stock whose parents were killed in the wars with the Saxons. The History of the Britons later expands on this making him ‘king among the kings of Britain’. It also includes a strange tale about a boy called ‘Ambrose’ who is something of a child prophet. The tyrant Vortigern struggles to build a tower and is told by his councilors to sacrifice a fatherless boy and sprinkle the earth with his blood. When young Ambrose appears to fit the bill, the lad tells Vortigern that he is unable to build his tower because within the hill are two dragons; a red one signifying the Britons and a white one the Saxons. Upon learning that Ambrose is the son of a Roman consul, Vortigern gives him all the western provinces of Britain. It is unclear if Ambrose and the ‘king of kings’ Ambrosius Aurelianus are one and the same in the History of the Britons although it does seem likely. 

The 12th century cleric Geoffrey of Monmouth clearly thought they were two different characters as he reproduces the two dragons story in his fantastical History of the Kings of Britain. He conflates the boy with the legendary Myrddin the Wild (a bard who was driven mad with grief and retreated into the Caledonian Forest to become a prophet) and calls him ‘Ambrosius Merlinus’ (Merlin). This is an entirely separate character to the military commander ‘Aurelius Ambrosius’ whom Monmouth makes the high king of Britain, brother of Uther Pendragon and King Arthur’s uncle. 

Whoever Ambrosius Aurelianus was, he seems to have made enough of an impact on British history and folklore that he became entwined with the Arthurian legend or was perhaps even something of a template for the fictional Arthur. 

Kingdom of the Visigoths (in orange, light and dark) circa 500 AD. The Visigothic king Euric consolidated the nation resulting in the Roman Emperor Anthemius's request to Riothamus and his 12,000 warriors to lend their aid. 

Riothamus

One of the more fanciful bits of Geoffrey of Monmouth’s History of the Kings of Britain (and that’s saying something) is when Arthur leaves Britain to conquer most of northern Europe before taking on the might of the Roman Empire. He is forced to return to Britain to deal with Mordred, his nephew, who has seduced Guinevere and seized his throne in his absence. 

There is a historical figure who may have done something vaguely similar that inspired Monmouth. Most of what we know about the military commander Riothamus comes from The Origin and Deeds of the Goths by the 6th century historian Jordanes. In it, Riothamus, king of the Britons, comes to the aid of the Roman Emperor by bringing 12,000 troops to fight the Visigoths around 470 A.D. 

It is unclear if Riothamus was king of the Britons in Britain or of the various British kingdoms in Armorica which was well on the way to being settled at that time (hence its modern-day name of Brittany). The name Riothamus seems to be a Latinisation of the British name Rigotamos meaning ‘great king’. This could mean that it was a title held by somebody (Arthur? Ambrosius Aurelianus?) but a letter from the Gaulish bishop Sidonius Apollinaris asking him to intervene in a dispute is addressed to ‘his friend Riothamus’. Surely a friend would use a personal name rather than a title?     

The historian Geoffrey Ashe is the strongest proponent of the Riothamus theory. He even went so far as to say that Riothamus might have been betrayed by Arvandus, the Praetorian prefect of Gaul, mirroring Arthur’s betrayal by Mordred in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s work. Ashe’s further claim that Riothamus died near the French town of Avallon (thus inspiring the tale of Arthur’s death on the island of Avalon) is unsupported by any evidence.

While it is fun to look for parallels between known historical figures and King Arthur, none of the candidates are without problems. Lucius Artorius Castus may have been in the right place but he was a couple of centuries early and doesn’t seem to have been a great military leader, at least during his time in Britain. Had his middle name been different, he would not even be a candidate at all. The parallels drawn with Riothamus are largely parallels with Geoffrey of Monmouth’s work of fiction rather than the early records of Arthur and although Ambrosius Aurelianus led a very similar career to Arthur, why isn’t he called Arthur? 

In all eventuality, Arthur was just Arthur; the 5th century war leader described in the History of the Britons who held the Saxons at bay for a time and about whom we know frustratingly little. But whoever he was, his deeds had an impact that is still felt today in the legends told of him. 

Sources

1. Lucius Artorius Castus: A Sourcebook by Christopher Gwinn

2. Linda Malcor, Heroic Age, Vol 1 (Spring/Summer 1999); Vol 2 (Autumn/Winter 1999); Lucius Artorius Castus: Part I: An Officer and an Equestian

3. Linda Malcor, Heroic Age, Vol 2 (Autumn/Winter 1999); Lucius Artorius Castus: Part II: The Battles in Britain

4. Ashe, Geoffrey (1985). The Discovery of King Arthur. London: Guild Publishing 

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Chris Thorndycroft is the author of the Hengest and Horsa trilogy. His follow-up, Sign of the White Foal, is the first part in a trilogy that re-tells the legend of King Arthur in an historical setting. Set in 5th century North Wales, it combines Celtic myth with real history and is based on the earliest elements of the Arthurian legend. 

You can follow Chris on Twitter, Goodreads and Facebook or join his mailing list and get a free Arthurian novella!

A generation after Hengest and Horsa carved out a kingdom in the east, a hero of the Britons rises in the west...

North Wales, 480 A.D. The sons of Cunedag have ruled Venedotia for fifty years but the chief of them – the Pendraig – is now dying. His sons Cadwallon and Owain must fight to retain their birthright from their envious cousins. As civil war consumes Venedotia, Arthur – a young warrior and bastard son of the Pendraig – is sent on a perilous quest that will determine the fate of the kingdom. 

The Morgens; nine priestesses of the Mother Goddess have found the cauldron of rebirth – a symbol of otherworldly power – and have allied themselves with the enemy. Arthur and six companions are dispatched to the mysterious island of Ynys Mon to steal the cauldron and break the power of the Morgens. Along the way they run into the formidable Guenhuifar whose family have been stewards of Ynys Mon for generations. They need her help. The trouble is, Guenhuifar despises Arthur’s family and all they stand for…

Based on the earliest Arthurian legends, Sign of the White Foal is a rip-roaring adventure of Celtic myth and real history set in the ruins of post-Roman Britain.