Britain AD
In Britain AD, which accompanies and expands on his Channel 4 series, Francis Pryor traces the story of King Arthur back to its ancient origins. Putting forth the compelling idea that most of its key elements are deeply rooted in Bronze and Iron Ages, he argues that the legend's survival mirrors a flourishing, indigenous culture that endured through the Roman occupation of Britain and the subsequent invasions of the so-called Dark Ages.
In this edited extract, Dr Pryor sets out the reasons why he – an archaeologist, expert in British prehistory – has chosen to tackle a period that has already been closely examined by generations of historians.
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Journeys of discovery lead one into uncharted territory, but in the present instance, that territory is not the true terra incognita one encounters during academic research. Instead this quest has taken me into realms of the past that have been thoroughly studied by many archaeologists, historians and, more recently, scientists.
These scholars might reasonably enquire what business a prehistorian of the Neolithic, Bronze and Iron Ages has with post-Roman Britain. In my defence, I can only say that sometimes a fresh view, one rooted in a lifetime's experience in a different but closely related field, can sometimes provide unexpected insights.
Time and space
I do not think it hurts to view the three or so centuries of the misnamed 'Dark Ages' (that is, from the official end of the Roman empire in Britain to, say, the mid-7th century: AD 410-650) as what they were: an insular development out of Later Iron Age culture, following some 350 years of Roman influence. In archaeology, it is always a good idea to examine origins and consequences: too often we fix our gaze on one period on its own. Chronological isolationism is just as bad as its geographical equivalent. Indeed, when it comes to the study of post-Roman Britain, it is essential to take a broad view of both time and space.
In this book, I have tried to view events of the post-Roman epoch in greater time-depth than previously. To my mind, what happened in Dark Age Britain is not particularly surprising when placed against the backdrop of prehistory. What is strange, however, is the variety of ways in which the post-Roman period has been interpreted by subsequent generations, including our own. I suspect this has something to do with identity: the identity of various élites, including royalty. It also has to do with emerging and beleaguered national identities.
Cultural soup
For myths to arise, they often require mystery, and the post-Roman period has always been seen in the popular imagination as particularly mysterious. I was brought up to believe that chaos and anarchy followed the collapse of Roman civilisation in Britain. Out of this primordial cultural soup arose a new form of life that, in southern Britain, was to be called England. The magic ingredient, the yeast of the brew, was hoards of Continental immigrants who, by the early 7th century, had transformed post-Roman anarchy into the rugged, no-nonsense world of the Anglo-Saxons.
As national origin myths go, that of England is pretty good. It explains why the English are – or think they are – so different from the other nations of Britain. It's also an excellent story. But whether it's true or not is another questions altogether.
Romantic fringes
Today most people with even a passing interest in the past are broadly familiar with what one might call the cultural aspects of medieval times. We enjoy the great buildings, the paintings, the sculpture and, increasingly, the music. As a result, we believe that we can identify with those times.
The post-Roman world lurks on the misty, romantic fringes of that world. It's a period that we wish we could identify with, but sadly we cannot. This is frustrating because, for better or worse, the Dark Ages lie at the threshold of the period that gave rise to our own times.
The Arthur industry
As a consequence of this, over the centuries we have recast the Age of Arthur in our own image. This is because historians, story-tellers and others are very good at reshaping the past in ways that reflect contemporary concerns. Today, for example, some of us look to Arthur to supply the mysticism that seems to have vanished from modern life, for whatever reason: perhaps the rationality of science, growing secularism or even the dogmatic certainties of evangelical religion. These surely are some of the reasons why the Arthur industry is thriving.
I have no wish to debunk the hundreds of books, films and videos that appear every year on Arthur and his court. Rather my intention is to think about the contexts of that time and to consider what might actually have happened, given what we know about previous and subsequent epochs from both archaeology and history.
Painting with a broad brush
The Romans introduced writing to Britain. Of course, most people were not aware of it at the time, but this process had already given rise to the discipline of history, which one might define as the study of the past from written sources. These sources can be as diverse as wills, letters, accounts, inscriptions, military commands or ecclesiastical texts, but they are all grist to the historian's mill.
The historian's tradition is to paint with a broad brush and to seek causes for historical events. Historians also have a tradition of superb writing: open at random Edward Gibbon's magisterial Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (written between 1776 and 1788) and some resounding passages will tumble forth.
Archaeological pictures
At first, archaeologists followed this grand tradition, but it soon became apparent that the writing of sweeping narrative did not work for archaeology. It's not that our data do not allow us to draw general conclusions; it's just that we should not attempt to mimic what historians do so well.
As archaeologists, we can indeed paint with a broad brush, but we have learned that it is best to confine our efforts to the painting of archaeological pictures. Today archaeology tends to be more concerned with the long-term processes of social change. We prefer to work with landscapes rather than lineages, and we tend to be less involved with one-off events than with more gradual change. When we do try to pin down specific historical incidents, we often become unstuck. The classic case is that of the so-called Anglo-Saxon 'conquest' of England and its aftermath.
'Flaky' and crackpot
Because archaeologists work with data that are foreign to most historians, we are sometimes accused of stretching the evidence too far. However, most of us consider that we are 'speculating' from the safety of solid statistical or palaeo-environmental data – that is, sherds of pottery, fragments of flint or pieces of bone. We do not believe that we are flying kites.
Having said that, we do not believe either that we have actually hit on the truth because, unless a day dawns when we can somehow get inside the minds of long-dead people, we will never know how or what they actually thought. Even then, we will have to confront the many problems that face anthropologists when they try to explain what motivates tribal societies in various parts of the world today. In fact, the long-established, innate conservatism of the archaeological profession makes it extremely hazardous for any prehistorian to espouse 'flaky' theories or ideas that tend, however slightly, towards the crackpot.
Recently, however, there has been a welcome freeing-up of attitudes. In the past two decades, the intellectual climate in archaeology has become more liberal and slightly less intolerant of dissent from within. Ironically, only history – in perhaps a century or two – will be able to judge the extent to which archaeology is actually revealing truths or is building castles in the air.
A broader view
There is one important difference between history and archaeology that has nothing to do with the quality of the data we study, but rather its quantity. Written historical information on the post-Roman era in Britain is surprisingly scarce, and new discoveries happen very rarely; when they do, it is often in the course of archaeological excavation.
By contrast with the essentially static historical 'database', that of archaeology is constantly increasing. Hardly a day goes by without some new discovery. Often these discoveries appear routine and unimportant, such as the exposure of the footings of yet another Saxon-period house.
However, these isolated pieces of information can be fitted together to form a coherent pattern. It's a process that can take years, but that does not make it any less reliable. The progress of archaeological research tends to be gradual and cumulative; it can only be measured from time to time. That is why it is sometimes necessary to step back in both time and space to take a broader view.
Dr Francis Pryor MBE headed the Fengate excavations in Peterborough between 1971 and 1979, making discoveries that revolutionised our understanding of British prehistory between the New Stone Age and the Roman conquest (4000 BC–AD 43). He then excavated other prehistoric sites, culminating in the discovery of Flag Fen, the largest and best-preserved religious centre of Late Bronze Age Britain. He appears regularly on Channel 4's Time Team and, in 2001, published the best-selling Seahenge: A quest for life and death in Bronze Age Britain. In 2003, he fronted the Channel 4 series Britain BC and wrote the book that supported it. For the past six years, he has been president of the Council for British Archaeology.
