King Arthur's last battle described
- Michael Smith
- 4 days ago
- 12 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
The fourteenth century Alliterative Morte Arthure (King Arthur’s Death), of which only one manuscript copy survives, is famous for its fast-paced action and acute attention to detail in its many battle scenes. The finest of these is its description of King Arthur’s last battle, sometimes referred to as the battle of Camlann, which the poem places near the Tamar, separating Devon from Cornwall.
The Alliterative Morte Arthure and King Arthur's last battle
The Alliterative Morte Arthure draws its information from Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britanniae (the History of the Kings of Britain). As such, it forms part of the Galfridian tradition (based on Geoffrey) rather than the romance tradition of the Old French Vulgate Cycle of poems drawn from poets such as Chrétien de Troyes.
In Geoffrey, King Arthur goes to war against the Roman Lucius Tiberius; whilst he is away, Mordred takes his kingdom and his wife. Arthur returns and a great battle is fought between the two at Camblana (the river Camel). Mordred is killed and Arthur mortally wounded; he travels to Avalon where he dies and the crown is passed on to Constantine.
The Alliterative Morte Arthure is strongly based around this element of Geoffrey’s history. Its focus rests on Lucius’s demands that Arthur pay homage to him and Arthur’s response – travelling across the channel, defeating Lucius and eventually returning to Britain when he learns of Mordred’s actions.
While, at the beginning of the narrative, we are told about Arthur’s realms and power, the focus of the story is his assertive response to threat. His defeat of Lucius is just one of many battles vividly described by the poet.
When Arthur finally returns to Britain he defeats Mordred’s fleet at sea before his army lands, but not before Gawain is killed (the subject of a future post). Now Arthur chases Mordred’s army to face him beyond a river the poet describes as the “Treyntis”. Where was this, and what bearing does it have on the site of the battle?
The site of King Arthur's last battle
While some have located the battle near Hadrian’s wall, the poet of the Alliterative Morte Arthure, like Geoffrey, locates the battle in Cornwall. However, Geoffrey specifically references the river Camel (the Cambula).
In his English River-names, Eilert Ekwall writes about the Camel,
“There is no reason to suppose that the battle was originally located in Cornwall. The name of that river is in the earliest sources given as Camlan and it does not seem to be identified with the Cornish Camel.” [Ekwall, p.66]
Ekwall believes that the Camel has been erroneously connected with the legendary battle of Camlann as cited in the Annales Cambriae and the Mabinogion. He considers Geoffrey’s river Cambula to be related to the Welsh words cam (crooked) and pwll (stream) rather than referring to the Camlann of legend.
The poet’s “Treyntis” [l. 4056] might be translated as the Trent, albeit not the Trent in Nottinghamshire. Valerie Krishna, in a note to the line in her edition of the Alliterative Morte Arthure, writes that,
“Though it has been speculated that this is a mistake for Tambire ‘Tamar’ […] it very likely refers to the small stream named Trent, also called Piddle, that flows into Poole Bay at Wareham in Dorset.” [Krishna, p202]
There is an element of sense in terms of the narrative, when the poet writes,
“Thane draws he to Dorsett and drenches no langere,
Derefull dredlesse with drowppande teris;
Kayeris into Kornewayle with kare at his herte:
The trays of þe traytoure he trynys full euene,
And turnys in be þe Treyntis þe traytour to seche,
Fyndis hym in a foreste þe Frydaye thereafter…” [ll. 4052-4057]
The challenge to this interpretation is that the text is implicit that he has already carried on towards Cornwall before he “turnys in be þe Treyntis”.
Ekwall writes of this Dorset Trent as follows,
"It is very doubtful if Trent is a genuine old river-name in this case. There is no reason to throw any doubt on Florence's Terente [12th Cent], which must be an old name of the Piddle, but Terente would not have given Trent. [...] It is quite inconceivable that Leland made up the name Trent [based on Florence's description and from the French for 30] If Trent in this case arose in the way suggested, we have a remarkable case of coincidence here." [Ekwall, p. 416]
While Ekwall seems to be unaware of the reference in the Alliterative Morte Arthure (which predates Leland by more than a century), he nonetheless supports the idea of Trent being connected to the Piddle even if he is dubious of its name for the river here.
Gardner, in his translation, retains the Trent, which is technically accurate. However, both Stone and Armitage adopt the Tamar, which I have done in my own work, as this river seems to make more sense in terms of the geography of the narrative:
“Then he draws into Dorset, and delays no longer,
Doleful, without doubt, and with dropping tears;
He carries on into Cornwall, with care in his heart,
On the trail of that traitor, he tracks full and true;
And turns in by the Tamar in search of that traitor,
To find him in a forest, the Friday thereafter…” [ll. 4052-4057]
If it is assumed that Arthur is following the coast. Although “drawing into Dorset” is ambiguous in its meaning, to “turn in” by the Tamar, a river (not a small stream) which even today at its mouth is one of the leading bases of the British Royal Navy, suggests an approach by water with Arthur then using the river to reach inland.
The choice of the Tamar also makes more sense than the Camel, a lesser river which flows north to Padstow and would suggest Arthur following either a sea route around the Lizard or a circuitous land route which doesn’t seem to make sense in terms of the narrative.
Possibly the poet was also seeing the Tamar as the natural barrier between much of Devon and Cornwall beyond. Certainly, the suggestion of being pushed into Cornwall gives the poetic imperative that for Mordred there was no escape.
King Arthur's last battle described
The poet’s attention to detail throughout the narrative is exceptional but none more so than in his description of the battle scenes which he fills with vitality, fury and pace.
The poet builds the tension by telling us that 60,000 of Mordred’s men [l. 4065] emerge from the woods to face Arthur’s array of just 1800 [l. 4069]. We are prepared for a tragedy to unfold before our eyes.
The accuracy in which he describes the layout of the army into three “battles” (vanguard, middle guard and rearguard) matches our understanding of the organisation of medieval armies. Arthur’s own position reminds us of that of Edward III at Crécy.
“And [he] assembles his vanguard for best battle advantage.
Sir Ewain and Sir Erik and other great earls
Then, with much honour, take command of the middle ward
With Merrak and Meneduke, mighty in arms;
Idrus and Alymer, their admirable squires,
Are stood with Arthur and seven score knights;
He rules the rear ward readily thereafter,
Reckoned the most robust of all the Round Table,
And thus he forms up his forces…” [ll. 4074-4082]
Next, Arthur delivers a rousing speech, invoking Christ in the face of Mordred’s “worthless and unsound” “Saracens” [l. 4088], tells his men to,
“Set on them savagely, for the sake of Our Lord!
If today on this earth we are destined to die,
We shall be hoisted to heaven before we are half cold!
Let not one of their soldiers allay your lordly work;
Lay yonder lads low, is how this game completes!
Take heed not of my life, nor believe no tell-tales,
But with your bright weapons be busy by my banners,
And let their sternest guards be my staunchest knights standing,
And hold them lordly aloft to show where we lead;
If any rogue rips one down, then rescue it quickly.
Work now for my renown, as today my war ends!
Either my wealth or my woe will unwind by your work!
Let Christ in His comely crown comfort you all,
You, the kindest of creatures that a king ever lead!
I give you all my blessing, with a blithe will,
And, all you bold Britons, may true bliss be yours!’ [ll. 4089-4103]
We learn how Arthur uses pipers, trumpets and cornets to organise his forces on the battlefield [ll. 4105-4108] before battle is joined. The action moves rapidly and soon things appear to turn against Arthur. The poet captures the king’s anxiety with great power:
'Then that rich king roars, with regret in his heart,
Holding his hands up high and looking to the heavens:
‘Why had not dear God destined this to be thus;
That I be deemed to die instead of you all?
Such a loss I prefer than to be a lifelong lord
Of all owned by Alexander while he lived on earth.’ [ll. 4155-4160]
It is one of the features of the poem that we are never far from what Arthur is thinking. In the way of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the poet lets us enter the mind of the king as the Gawain-poet does for his hero.
This is critical in understanding the meaning of the poem. For medieval kings, no war was legitimate unless it was just; personal anxiety at subjecting his men to the possibility of death ways heavily on Arthur.
We see this as the battle reaches a critical point. Arthur learns that Mordred has taken Clarent, his sword of state [ll. 4193-4208]. The symbolism of Arthur battling the blade of Clarent with his own Caliburn (Excalibur) is evident; if he is slain by Clarent, it is as if his own legitimacy as king has been taken from him.
Notwithstanding, Mordred’s unsuitability for kingship is shown by his decision to change his coat of arms so he will be unrecognised [ll. 4180-85]. As Arthur exclaims,
“Despite his treason and trickery, I am the true lord!
Today my sword Caliburn shall clash with Clarent,
To test keenness of kerf and hardness of cut!” [ll. 4192-94]
Of course, when the two meet, the battle is brutal. Arthur shouts to Mordred,
“Turn, untrue traitor, your fortune retreats;
By great God, you shall die by dint of my hands!
No warrior on earth shall rescue or reach you!” [ll. 4227-29]
But in the ensuing struggle, Arthur receives a dire wound from Mordred, some six inches long [l. 4239]. However, Arthur battles on, cutting off Mordred’s sword arm [ll. 4244-45] and his enemy collapses on the ground. Arthur shows no mercy:
'Then freshly that fellow lifts his foe from his faint,
Broaches him on the broad blade, right to the bright hilt,
So, blade-broached and trembling, he braces himself for death.
‘In faith,’ said the fading king, ‘I feel no sorrow
That ever such a false thief should have such a fine end.’
When this fight was finished, then that field was won,
And the false folk in the field are all left to their fate!' [ll. 4249-55]
Afterwards, of course, the price of battle is all too clear; although he has defeated his enemy, Arthur is left to count the cost as he walks the battlefield to collect the bodies of all the friends he has lost from the membership of the Round Table.
His lament is astonishing in its harrowing torment as he kneels looking at the bloody corpses of all those men he knew so well. At the end, he cries,
“…I am alone in this house now, helpless on this heath,
Like some woeful widow who wants her man back!
I shall wail curses and weep, and wring my hands,
For my wisdom and worship that have flown away!
I take leave, at the end, of all my great lords;
Here is the blood of the Britons, bled from such life,
And now, in the juice of this day, all my joy is ended." [ll. 4284-90]
Such is the price of war and the guilt of those who lead others to their deaths. In the end, of course, Arthur dies too; in the Alliterative Morte Arthure he asks to be taken to the Isle of Avalon before confessing his sins and announcing Constantine as his successor. As the poet writes so hauntingly,
'He murmurs In manus, with his last earthly might,
And thus his spirit passes, and he speaks no more!' [ll. 4326-7]
The meaning of Arthur's last battle in the Alliterative Morte Arthure
The Alliterative Morte Arthure is at once a martial poem but also a poem of fundamental message: that arrogance and pride lead only to downfall; that leaders have a duty to those they condemn to die on their behalf.
Fourteenth and fifteenth century alliterative poets wove themes of pride (“surquedry”) and the importance of good governance into their texts and the Alliterative Morte Arthure is no different.
While the poem follows Geoffrey of Monmouth’s broad outline, we are left in no doubt that this is a poem about decisions and doubt. War in all its brutality is sewn throughout the narrative but two dreams of Arthur show us how we should be thinking.
When Arthur sets off to France to battle with Lucius, he dreams of a bear fighting a dragon and is only calmed when he learns that he is the victor in that battle – that his cause is just.
But later, after Lucius is overthrown, Arthur goes on a tour of destruction across Europe. His destruction of Metz is brutal; he then destroys Como before laying siege to Rome. It is here that his second dream haunts him, a dream from which there is no escape.
In it, Lady Fortune shows Arthur that his downfall is inevitable, that pride always comes before a fall. When he learns of events back in Britain, Arthur is compelled to return home, and it is here that he dies.
In this poem, Arthur's last battle is a consequence of overweening pride. HIs kingdom was not in decay, his powers were at their peak and yet he chose his own destiny and became a victim of his own vanity.
While the Alliterative Morte Arthure is no more brutal than works such as Bevis of Hampton, or the Old French text of William of Palerne, what lies at its heart is the struggle between one man and his conscience.
The magnificence of the poem is that while the action is dramatic and sweeping, we never lose sight of the king and his innermost thoughts, doubts and concerns. It is as if he has lost his way and, at the end, he seems to lose his mind.
The poem opens with a rich prayer to God but ends with a reference to the Brut, the history of Britain. It seems as if the poet is saying that Arthur and his men have done likewise, transitioning from godliness to godlessness. His last battle is the natural consequence of his own self-obsession.
As we know in our own times, vanity has a way of corrupting even the most powerful of people. And, through war, destroying them.
About the Alliterative Morte Arthure
The Alliterative Morte Arthure is one of the jewels of the "Alliterative Revival" of the fourteenth century. It draws from Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of the Kings of Britain and as such is described as being in the Galfridian tradition in the Arthurian canon, rather than the romance tradition.
Although the poem is written almost as a chronicle, it carries enormous power and vigour and, in the style of many fourteenth century alliterative works, contains many hidden messages for its readers and audiences.
Used by Malory to inform his own Le Morte D’Arthur, the Allliterative Morte Arthure was once clearly widely known in fourteenth and fifteenth century England. Today only one example of it survives, which was transcribed by Robert Thornton in the 1440s and is now housed in Lincoln Cathedral library.
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My translation of the Alliterative Morte Arthure (King Arthur's Death) was published in 2021. My publisher is Wilton Square Books.
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About the author, Michael Smith
I am a British translator and illustrator of medieval literature. I am also an established printmaker, with work in private collections worldwide.
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