The Strange Case of Gildas
Gildas is strange, despite being known and used heavily by
people discussing the transition of Britain from Roman diocese to a multiple
set of political units in Late Antiquity. As Guy Halsall now describes such
things, it’s messy.
It is well-known that Gildas is not a British or Roman name
(Lapidge, M. and Dumville, D.
(1984) (eds) Gildas: New Approaches,
Woodbridge: Boydell Press). Various suggestions have been made, such as
his real name being Sildag and that Gildas was a nom de guerre. If so,
an anagram was a pretty thin disguise. Why would anyone wish to disguise
himself? It would be fairly obvious from the level of erudition and from the
political position being adopted who the author was.
There is one source of names which has not been taken into
account, and that is the Goths. Many Gothic names end in —gildaz. These are
usually lost when the names are rendered into English from Latin texts, where
they appear as Hermanigildus or Leuvigildus. The original names would have been
as Hermanigildaz or Leuvigildaz. The —az ending corresponds to —us in Latin or
—os in Greek (or Gaulish). Bede interestingly calls Gildas ‘Gildus’. Ammianus
mentions an officer – probably a Goth – sent from Constantinople to Julian to
tell him Constantius II had died; the man was called ‘Aligildus’ (Amm.
XXII.2.1) Possibly the —az ending was
pronounced something like —us anyway. The reason why modern historians have
dropped the —az ending is to make them sound more like other Germans. Gothic,
being separated from other Germanic languages had retained the Indo-European
declension system, which most Germanic languages had dropped, which is why you
don’t get it in English. I discussed this possibility with my PhD supervisor,
Professor Guy Halsall, and it eventually filtered through to his book Worlds of Arthur.
But Gildas (Gildaz) does not appear to be a full name in
itself. It may be a hypocoristic, that is, a familiar form of the name (like
Bert for Albert/Herbert, etc.). Could Gildas have had that name because he was
descended from Goths, the ones who had been in slavery, some of whom had
returned to the Continental mainland? It will be objected that Gildas didn’t
like Saxons; he said that the Council of the Britons had ‘sealed its doom by
inviting in among them “like wolves into the sheep-fold”, the fierce and impious
Saxons, a race hateful both to God and men, to repel the invasions of the
northern nations’ (DEB 23). The Goths, however, didn’t consider themselves to
be Germans anyway, and there is no saying that the Goths had to like the
Saxons; those based in Gaul had fought Swabians and Vandals, while the Franks
had fought mostly on the side of Rome against fellow Germans.
There are two vitae
of Gildas, each contradicting the other; Gildas is said by the Monk of Rhuys
who wrote the earlier Vita (pre-Conquest; everything after that is
contaminated with Arthurian junk) to have been in Gaul during the life of King
Childeric (r. 457-481). This places him fair and square in the late fifth
century, rather than in the sixth. Gildas himself states that the grandsons of
Ambrosius Aurelianus are his contemporaries. Taking the standard generation of
25 years and counting back, it suggests that the floruit of Gildas is only 50
years, give or take, later than Ambrosius Aurelianus. We are talking fifth
century, not sixth, and somewhere in the range 457-481. The Vita can be read in
English in Two Lives of Gildas
(trans. H Williams, Llanerch Press, 1990).
We do however have a very similar name, Gildias. He was a vir spectabilis
in Italy under Athalaric and held the role of Count of Syracuse. The king
rebuked him at length in AD527 for abusing his role and robbing taxpayers blind
(Cassiodorus Variae Epistolae IX.14).
Gildias was a Goth. In fact, Athalaric was only eleven years old at the time
and the letter was written at the behest of his mother, Amalasuntha, Theodoric’s
daughter, who was regent of Italy, by Cassiodorus.
But were there any Goths in Britain anyway? We do in fact
have such a reference, but a peculiar one it is. Jordanes’ book Getica is, or so he says, a rewrite of a
now lost work by the Roman senator Cassiodorus in praise of the Ostrogothic
king Theoderic (r. AD486-524). It has several references to Britain.
The first is a detailed description of its size, position
and agriculture, its peoples and what they look like. Why should a book about
the Goths include a lengthy description of Britain (571 words in an English
translation) (Jordanes Getica II
1-15)?
The second is just as odd:
We
read that on their first migration the Goths dwelt in the land of Scythia near
Lake Maeotis. On the second migration they went to Moesia, Thrace and Dacia,
and after their third they dwelt again in Scythia, above the Sea of Pontus. Nor
do we find anywhere in their written records legends which tell of their
subjection to slavery in Britain or in some other island, or of their
redemption by a certain man at the cost of a single horse. Of course if anyone
in our city [Constantinople] says that the Goths had an origin different from
that I have related, let him object. For myself, I prefer to believe what I
have read, rather than put trust in old wives' tales (Jordanes Getica III 38).
This is an odd comment. Quite clearly there were legends
which did say Goths had been slaves in Britain and had been redeemed. Who was
the ‘certain man’ and why did a horse feature in it? Could this connect with
the stories of Hengest and Horsa?
It was Roman practice to reduce defeated enemies to a
subordinate status and to resettle them elsewhere in the empire to work
underused and under-taxed land (agri
deserti). Such people were termed dediticii,
and they were reduced to the level of serfs. JNL (Nowell) Myres long ago in The English Settlements proposed that
defeated Germanic warriors were settled in Britain as dediticii. These were former soldiers who had unconditionally
surrendered. They were excluded from the Caracalla law of AD212 which made all
free persons in the Empire into citizens.
The monk of Rhuys also knew that Gildas had been born at
Alaclud, which he equated as Dumbarton. Quite why a place should have not one
but two British names is a mystery. Alaclud means ‘town on the Clota’, while
Dumbarton just means ‘fort of the Britons’ and therefore is probably a name
given by the locals to an outpost rather than an autonym. The identification of
Clud or Clut with Clota is reasonable, but the second level identification with
the name given by Ptolemy of Alexandria to the Clyde, is not, because there
were two rivers named the Clota.
Worse, there is a second Araclud. This is the town of
Auckland, now more specifically Bishop Auckland, St Helen’s Auckland and West
Auckland in County Durham, within the line of Hadrian’s Wall and all on the
River Gaunless, formerly the Clota; like a lot of eastern names, that river was
not renamed until the Viking ninth century. Until the see moved to Durham, it
was in Auckland, Araclud.
Vinovia (Binchester, Co.Durham) Roman Fort |
Principal buildings at Vinovia |
Escomb Anglo-Saxon Church, Bishop Auckland, Co. Durham |
For all we know, it could have been the most northerly villa in Europe
mentioned by Guy de la Bedoyère (Roman
Villas and the Countryside, 1993, English Heritage, ch.3 no page). The work
on the survival of ladder settlements at West Heslerton and at Dorchester on
Thames, Oxfordshire suggests that Auckland may have been a similar survival. In
633, the Britons and Saxons fought a major battle nearby on Dere Street at
Heavenfield, near Hexham, the earliest episcopal see, recorded in the Annales Cambriae and Bede’s Historia Ecclesiastica.
Bishop Auckland High Street, part of Dere Street, running from York to the Antonine Wall |
A surviving rural part of Dere Street |
Who Gildas was is quite clear. He was a monk – he praises monks
and nobody else. He quite clearly despises kings and judges, with the ringing
phrase ‘reges habet britannia, sed tyrannos; iudices habet, sed impios’
(Britain has kings, but tyrants, it has judges, but impious ones; DBE 27). To
follow Halsall, if Gildas’s Roman Britain has kings, where did they come from
and if it had judges, who appointed them and why are they impious? Did Roman
Britain have kings, even though they were not recognised by the imperial
system? France has been a republic since 1870, but it still has claimants to
both the Bourbon and Bonapartist thrones. It is far from impossible that there
were local holders of thrones throughout the Roman period, who might have
remained major local landowners and decurions. Some might even have been proper
Romans.
Gildas mentions the Romans leaving military handbooks for
the Britons, hardly the actions of an expelled overlord. These might include De Rei Militari, by P. Flavius Vegetius
Renatus, who wrote sometime after AD383, because he mentions the death of the
emperor Gratian in that year. However, Sabin Rosenbaum (Who Was Vegetius?, Academia.Edu, 2015) dates him to the court of
Valentinian III in the 450s, which would rule this out. The supposed manuals
might include Thucydides’ History of the
Peloponnesian War, which the emperor Julian had used to defeat the Franks
and German invaders in the 350s. He’d read the book, they hadn’t.
Gildas mentions a famine (DEB 20.2) which followed the
departure of the Roman authorities. Inevitably, the removal of the tax
incentive, under which landowners had to produce surplus food to sell to pay
their taxes in cash, would lead to the disruption of markets. Similar famines
are noted in Spain in 410, described as ‘enormous’ (Chronicle of Hydatius) and in Gaul in 411, also termed ‘enormous’ (Gallic Chronicle of 452). The cause in
all three cases is connected with disruption to Roman rule. Since the Goths
were not yet in Gaul or Spain in 410 to disrupt the harvest, we could relate it
to the substantial incursions into Gaul and Spain by the Vandals, Alans and
Swabians. Hydatius refers to a plague in Spain in 409, so it is possible that
the incursions brought hitherto unknown diseases. At DEB 22.2, Gildas mentions severe
plagues in Britain, which followed a period of improved trade; this may have
been the time when the delegation of St Germanus of Auxerre visited Britain in
the late 420s.
In fact, the late Roman state was showing itself too
sclerotic to function: there had been famine and plague in Syria and Cicilia in
AD333 (Chronicle of Jerome), a series
of earthquakes in what is now Turkey in 341, 344 (Neocaesarea in Pontus), 358
(Nicomedia),368 (Nicea), a great famine in Phrygia in 370, and failure of the
water supply in Constantinople in 373 (all Jerome). The Gallic Chronicle also
mentions an earthquake at Utica in north Africa in 408. It is possible that
people moving from Africa to Spain brought plague with them, rather than the
incoming armies. The imperial infrastructure was being overwhelmed.
Governmentality, the idea that the government has the responsibility to fix
everything, was proving impossible to maintain.
Vetus Latin Bible - a page from St John's Gospel |
If Gildas was a local lad, then we should be less surprised
that Bede had access to Gildas’ book De
Excidio Britanniae. There was probably a copy in the great library at
Jarrow established by Benedict Biscop two generations before. Bede cites
Gildas’ book De Excidio Britanniae
(the title variant De Excidio et
Conquestu Britanniae is modern; the work does not really discuss conquest
and conquestu does not appear in the
text; in Latin conquestus in a past
participle, not a noun. The Saxons are only mentioned twice in the whole book).
Halsall considers the tyrannus
maximus referred to by Gildas to be the usurping emperor Magnus Maximus and
not Vortigern, which would certainly place Gildas in the fifth century. It
would mean abandoning the letter Gildas quotes, the one to Aegidius, usually
assumed to be Aetius. It would not explain many other aspects of the conundrum
either.
Professor Guy Halsall, University of York |
However the event referred to by Gildas as tantae tempestatis collisione occisis in
eadem parentibus purpura nimirumindutis superfuerat, could be a ‘storm’ in
the sense that the combined armies of Theodosius and Valentinian II attacked
Trier, the capital of Maximus, with the Frankish leaders Richomeres and
Arbogastes, and the Romans Promotus and Timasius, associates of Theodosius.
Moreover the term used for descendants of Ambrosius in Latin
is suboles, which does not mean
‘grandchildren’ as is often claimed but simply ‘offspring’, which could equally
mean sons and daughters or adopted children.
Halsall leaves us with the possibility that we are looking
at a badly reported Roman era event, not a medieval one, or at least a late
antique one. There is nothing to stop the ‘Council of the Britons’ being
established before the Council of the
Gauls, which was set up in Arles after the invasions of the early fifth
century. It would even make more sense if such a council had been set up after
the ‘Barbarian Conspiracy’ of 367 or even after the recovery of Britain after
the revolt of Magnentius (d.AD353), to address grievances such as those against
‘Paul the Chain’, executed in 361.
There is no way to place Gildas firmly in the sixth century
and plenty of evidence for the fifth. The sixth century placement arises from a
belief that Maglocunus was Maelgwyn of Gwyneth, who alleged died in the
Justinianic Plague of the 530s-540s. Dating one dodgy document by reference to
another, the Annales Cambriae, a
ninth century work, which Ken Dark dismisses out of hand (Britain and the End of the Roman Empire,(2000) Tempus: Stroud)
seems unsustainable. A fifth century Gildas, Goth or otherwise, seems more
defensible.
No comments:
Post a Comment