The sixth of Arthur's famed twelve battles, according to Nennius in the Historia Brittonum, took place on the River Bassas. As with most of the battles, the location has never been identified. It's not even sure that there were twelve battles—the possibility looms that perhaps the number may have been expanded to twelve in order to neatly coincide with other commonly known twelves: twelve apostles, twelve months in the year and so on.
But in needing to name a logical location for the battle in the setting of a novel, what to do? Currently no rivers in the UK are called Bassas or any similar name. Historians have gone over numerous possibilities and come to no conclusion. To name a location but give no hint of where it is will unfairly confuse readers. Even if the location is ultimately proven to be elsewhere or never discovered at all, a novelist should at least attempt to give the reader some sense of where the place lies.
So, in search of Bassas, I turned to my guidebook of place names (Place Names of England Wales, by James Johnson, 1994, Bracken Books) and found a number of places that begin with bas- or bass-. In considering possibilities, I weighed them against the following points:
1. The frontier of Saxon encroachment at the time of the battles likely would have been drawn generally along a north-south line between what is now Wales and the west midlands (See Arthur’s Battle List—Part 1).
2. The time would likely have been within the last ten to fifteen years of the 5th century CE.
3. The meanings of the place names, if known, must fit within the timeframe of point #2.
The first possibility I found is Baschurch, located near Shrewsbury. The location is definitely appropriate. The name means ‘church of Bassa.’ Bassa or Bassus was a valiant soldier of King Edwin of Northumbria and is mentioned in Bede’s 8th century writings. Unfortunately, the soldier’s lifetime falls in a later period than the late fifth century. Scratch that one.
A second selection is Bassenthwaite, near Keswick. Keswick is in the lake district of Cumbria, much too far north to be in the midst of the Saxon encroachment. Doesn’t look good already. The name means ‘place of Bassa.’ Is this the same Bassa/Bassus of Baschurch? If so, again the period is too late.A third choice is Bassaleg, near Newport in Monmouthshire, southeast Wales. The guidebook’s entry reads:
“Thought to be c. 800 Nennius . . . and so = the modern Welsh name Maesaleg, ‘plain of Ælloc or Aloc’. . . Close by is maes Arthur, ‘plain of Arthur’.”
The reference to ‘Nennius, c. 800’ is the citation of the entry’s source—the Historia Brittonum, attributed to Nennius, around 800 CE. This is also the source of the battle-list. Right off, the source makes this choice striking enough to start ringing bells. The reference to Arthur is more than intriguing as well. And on top of that, the location is in southeast Wales—a very plausible site for one of Arthur’s battles.
Coincidence? Maybe. Many places have Arthur’s name attached to them simply for the sake of fame or sentimentality. But gosh, a plain close by with Arthur’s name on it? That could certainly have been a battlefield. And in the Welsh language, certain consonants mutate between b’s and m’s—Bassalag, Maesaleg. And several rivers flow through the area.
Hard to ignore, isn’t it?
Who knows? My simplistic reasoning may be a shaky stretch at best in proposing that Bassaleg and its environs could be the location of the battle on the River Bassas—as with anything from the Dark Age era. Perhaps it could be suggested to professional scholars to explore this notion. Even if it were soundly dismissed in the end, it’s still a place to start. And for a piece of fiction, there’s nothing wrong with using it as a location—as long as the author’s notes explain the theory behind the placement. Best, the reader will have a spot on a map to look at.
One more note on this particular bit of research: originally I believed the battle on the River Bassas would be included in A Land Beyond Ravens—that’s why I pursued the evidence. Plus it’s just plain fun to exercise research skills and see if the Arthurian scholars can be outwitted. Alas, as it turns out, I didn’t use this tidbit for the book, but perhaps in the future it may end up in another story. Never throw away any research! Someday it may prove useful. And someday, perhaps the historians might even agree with the theory…?
Author Kathleen Guler's blog about research and writing historical fiction
Hello everyone,
Research is a constant, ongoing process while writing historical fiction. Sometimes a fascinating tidbit surfaces that might be of particular interest beyond its use in a novel. As I continue to work in the historical fiction field, I will post those occasional points of interest here. Occasionally I muse on the writing process as well along with news to keep readers informed of what's going on with my books and other writings.
Please feel free to post comments--I'd love to hear from you.
The photo above is of Snowdonia in North Wales, which plays a large part in the setting of the Macsen's Treasure Series.
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Research is a constant, ongoing process while writing historical fiction. Sometimes a fascinating tidbit surfaces that might be of particular interest beyond its use in a novel. As I continue to work in the historical fiction field, I will post those occasional points of interest here. Occasionally I muse on the writing process as well along with news to keep readers informed of what's going on with my books and other writings.
Please feel free to post comments--I'd love to hear from you.
The photo above is of Snowdonia in North Wales, which plays a large part in the setting of the Macsen's Treasure Series.
.
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Saturday, October 27, 2007
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Knights by any other name

King Arthur, if he existed, would have lived in the latter part of the 5th century and the early part of the 6th century, with his height of power around the year AD 500. The word 'knight' is a Norman invention, brought to England with the invasion of William the Conquerer in 1066, more than 500 years after Arthur's time. That means Arthur's Knights of the Round Table would not have been called 'knights.' Then what were they?
Novelists who have set Arthur in the high middle ages of the 12th century use the term 'knight' to comply with the later setting. Others use the term regardless of historical inaccuracy. I've seen combrogi used--an adaptation of an old Welsh name akin to brotherhood--or equites, playing on the lingering Latin/Roman influence. And then there is the ever popular 'warrior' as well!
In my research I came across another possibility. Since the stories of Arthur emerged from old Welsh tales, what were they called in Welsh? Knights were supposedly mounted--they were horsemen as opposed to foot soldiers. So, looking in my Welsh dictionary I find the word marchog for horseman, the plural marchogion for horsemen. And when you look in the Welsh to English section, marchog means horseman and...a meaning that become attached the word...knight! For a warlord or king who rose to power in the time when Britain was mostly populated by a Celtic-based culture, marchogion seems to make a lot of sense. Celtic people revered horses (and still do!) very highly and associated them with royalty and kingship, an aspect of their culture descended from their nomadic continental ancestors.
Novelists who have set Arthur in the high middle ages of the 12th century use the term 'knight' to comply with the later setting. Others use the term regardless of historical inaccuracy. I've seen combrogi used--an adaptation of an old Welsh name akin to brotherhood--or equites, playing on the lingering Latin/Roman influence. And then there is the ever popular 'warrior' as well!
In my research I came across another possibility. Since the stories of Arthur emerged from old Welsh tales, what were they called in Welsh? Knights were supposedly mounted--they were horsemen as opposed to foot soldiers. So, looking in my Welsh dictionary I find the word marchog for horseman, the plural marchogion for horsemen. And when you look in the Welsh to English section, marchog means horseman and...a meaning that become attached the word...knight! For a warlord or king who rose to power in the time when Britain was mostly populated by a Celtic-based culture, marchogion seems to make a lot of sense. Celtic people revered horses (and still do!) very highly and associated them with royalty and kingship, an aspect of their culture descended from their nomadic continental ancestors.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Arthur's Battle List-Part 1
So many aspects concerning King Arthur's life continue to be debated over and over within the community of Arthurian historians. Among those points is a list of twelve battles that Arthur was alleged to have fought and won in his quest to consolidate power. The list comes from the document called Historia Brittonum, attributed to a monk called Nennius. Historians conjecture and argue constantly over where these battles took place, if they happened at all. There is no consensus.
While researching A Land Beyond Ravens (the 4th and final part of the Macsen's Treasure series) the first of the battles come into play, so I've found it necessary to decide if I agree with any of the theories historians have put out there.
The first battle Nennius names is "at the mouth of the river Glein." I've seen this spelled a number of ways in various translations: Glein, Glen, or Gleni. Most historians look for any rivers in Britain that still have the name Glen. Of course names have changed dramatically over the last 1500 years) Two with that name appear on current maps, one in Lincolnshire and the other in Northumberland. According to Christopher Gidlow, in his book The Reign of Arthur, both are in plausible locations for war against the Saxons. However, he also points out that, at the time the battle may have taken place, the frontier between British territory and the encroachment of Saxon territory may actually have been closer to the eastern side of the kingdom that was called Powys. Pinning down historical boundaries in those days is fuzzy at best, but the area can roughly be thought of as where Wales now meets the English counties of Shropshire and Cheshire. There is a county of Powys in Wales now, however its modern boundaries are quite shifted from those of the fifth century.
In going beyond looking simply for river names, I snooped for relevant place names in general, and the point arose that in the Welsh language (its pre-runner being spoken at that time) the word for the mouth of a river could also mean the confluence of rivers. Another point I considered was that in those days there was little, if any, written language outside of Latin, so when names where written down later, they were spelled phonetically. So what also sounds like Glein, glen or gleni? A brief trip to the Welsh dictionary and up pops: glyn—the word for glen, as in river valley...Ah-hah! Back to the maps!
In examining them, I found two village names. One is Glyndyfrdwy that lies along the well known River Dee, or Afon Dyfrdwy, famous for the homeland of the Welsh hero Owein Glyn Dŵr. The other village is called Glyn Ceiriog that lies along the Afon Ceiriog. Both rivers flow down from the Berwyn Mountains of Wales, through river valleys that run roughly parallel to each other. They come together in a confluence near Chirk, about halfway between Wrexham and Oswestry. This area lies within what was probably the eastern side of the fifth century kingdom of Powys.
Of course this theory is as much conjecture as anyone else’s, but in my mind this is a possible and very plausible site for Arthur's first battle: at the confluence of the river glens. Within the context of the novel, this is where Arthur takes his first command and begins to earn his title, Battle Lord of Britain.
More later on additional battle sites.
While researching A Land Beyond Ravens (the 4th and final part of the Macsen's Treasure series) the first of the battles come into play, so I've found it necessary to decide if I agree with any of the theories historians have put out there.
The first battle Nennius names is "at the mouth of the river Glein." I've seen this spelled a number of ways in various translations: Glein, Glen, or Gleni. Most historians look for any rivers in Britain that still have the name Glen. Of course names have changed dramatically over the last 1500 years) Two with that name appear on current maps, one in Lincolnshire and the other in Northumberland. According to Christopher Gidlow, in his book The Reign of Arthur, both are in plausible locations for war against the Saxons. However, he also points out that, at the time the battle may have taken place, the frontier between British territory and the encroachment of Saxon territory may actually have been closer to the eastern side of the kingdom that was called Powys. Pinning down historical boundaries in those days is fuzzy at best, but the area can roughly be thought of as where Wales now meets the English counties of Shropshire and Cheshire. There is a county of Powys in Wales now, however its modern boundaries are quite shifted from those of the fifth century.
In going beyond looking simply for river names, I snooped for relevant place names in general, and the point arose that in the Welsh language (its pre-runner being spoken at that time) the word for the mouth of a river could also mean the confluence of rivers. Another point I considered was that in those days there was little, if any, written language outside of Latin, so when names where written down later, they were spelled phonetically. So what also sounds like Glein, glen or gleni? A brief trip to the Welsh dictionary and up pops: glyn—the word for glen, as in river valley...Ah-hah! Back to the maps!
In examining them, I found two village names. One is Glyndyfrdwy that lies along the well known River Dee, or Afon Dyfrdwy, famous for the homeland of the Welsh hero Owein Glyn Dŵr. The other village is called Glyn Ceiriog that lies along the Afon Ceiriog. Both rivers flow down from the Berwyn Mountains of Wales, through river valleys that run roughly parallel to each other. They come together in a confluence near Chirk, about halfway between Wrexham and Oswestry. This area lies within what was probably the eastern side of the fifth century kingdom of Powys.
Of course this theory is as much conjecture as anyone else’s, but in my mind this is a possible and very plausible site for Arthur's first battle: at the confluence of the river glens. Within the context of the novel, this is where Arthur takes his first command and begins to earn his title, Battle Lord of Britain.
More later on additional battle sites.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Homesick for Wales
Yesterday I had the pleasure to chat a bit with a gentleman who originally came from Wales, near Aberystwyth. We talked about the different Merlin traditions, how there is a south Welsh tradition as well as a northern one that emerged out of the border area of lowland Scotland. This tradition perceives of Merlin as a madman lost in the wilderness. I’ve drawn on that tradition for how I portrayed him in “The Anvil Stone.” I didn’t quite make him into a “madman”—he is anything but that. Rather he intentionally wears a mantle of black feathers (think of Alan Lee’s drawing of Merlin) to make himself appear as a “wise man of the woods” while he secretly mentors the young Arthur. It was such a pleasure to speak with someone with knowledge of the Merlin traditions.
Then the talk turned to locations in Wales, among them Dinas Emrys. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to go back to this lovely country. Dinas Emrys sits along the Afon Glaslyn, a stream that runs down from the mountains around Snowdon. The last time I was there, I had a picnic on the banks of the stream. This is one of the most peaceful places I have ever been and gave me a strong sense of feeling at home there more than anywhere else. The homeland of my characters is not far away, just up in the pass to the northeast. The Welsh have a word, hiraeth, which doesn’t translate into English, but my understanding of it is that it encompasses a melancholy longing for one’s homeland, for an unfulfilled dream of the way things should have been, a need to return to the ancient culture and people of one’s heritage. Whatever it truly means, since our talk, I’ve been struck with what feels like homesickness. The hiraeth has been sleeping inside me for a long time while I’ve been caught up in everything else going on in my life. The conversation woke it up yesterday. The man I spoke with also wishes to live once more near his birthplace. I sense he is drawn back in the same way.
If I ever find the chance, I will go back for an extended stay. For now, my photographs, my memories, and my writing about the place will have to do. Sigh.
Then the talk turned to locations in Wales, among them Dinas Emrys. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to go back to this lovely country. Dinas Emrys sits along the Afon Glaslyn, a stream that runs down from the mountains around Snowdon. The last time I was there, I had a picnic on the banks of the stream. This is one of the most peaceful places I have ever been and gave me a strong sense of feeling at home there more than anywhere else. The homeland of my characters is not far away, just up in the pass to the northeast. The Welsh have a word, hiraeth, which doesn’t translate into English, but my understanding of it is that it encompasses a melancholy longing for one’s homeland, for an unfulfilled dream of the way things should have been, a need to return to the ancient culture and people of one’s heritage. Whatever it truly means, since our talk, I’ve been struck with what feels like homesickness. The hiraeth has been sleeping inside me for a long time while I’ve been caught up in everything else going on in my life. The conversation woke it up yesterday. The man I spoke with also wishes to live once more near his birthplace. I sense he is drawn back in the same way.
If I ever find the chance, I will go back for an extended stay. For now, my photographs, my memories, and my writing about the place will have to do. Sigh.
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