Arthur: A Short Sketch of His Life and History in English Verse of the First Half of the Fifteenth Century

In Short

This brief, six-hundred-line poem serves as an earnest, condensed biography of King Arthur, composed in the mid-fifteenth century. It traces his life from his illicit conception and the establishment of the Round Table to his continental conquests, his final battle against the usurper Mordred, and his mysterious departure to Avalon. By stripping away the more elaborate romantic subplots found in later French iterations, the work focuses on Arthur as a quintessential British sovereign, framing his reign as a cycle of divine favor, imperial ambition, and tragic betrayal that concludes in the shadow of historical memory.

The Story

The narrative begins with the machinations of the wizard Merlin, who uses his "sotelnesse" to disguise Uther Pendragon as the Earl of Cornwall. Through this deception, Uther seduces the Earl’s wife, Ygerne, and fathers Arthur. Following Uther’s death, the young Arthur ascends to the throne. He is depicted as a ruler of immense physical strength and courtly grace, beloved by his subjects. His first major act of statesmanship is the creation of the Round Table, designed specifically to eliminate hierarchy and prevent the prideful bickering of his knights.

Arthur soon embarks on a series of aggressive campaigns, conquering Scotland, Ireland, Gothland, and various regions of France. After twelve years of peace, he turns his sights on Rome. He invades France to challenge the Roman Emperor Lucius, defeating the local ruler Frollo in single combat. Before engaging the main Roman host, Arthur faces a grotesque giant from Spain who has ravaged the land and killed a damsel named Elayne; Arthur slays the beast, securing the safety of the countryside.

The decisive conflict against Rome ensues. Despite the massive size of the Roman army, Arthur relies on his faith in the "hye trynyte" to guide his men. In a brutal, bloody engagement, the Roman forces are decimated, and the Emperor Lucius is slain. Arthur sends the Emperor’s body back to Rome as a testament to his own sovereignty, then settles in to spend the winter in prayer and reflection.

However, the tide of fortune turns upon his return to Britain. He discovers that his trusted deputy, Mordred, has committed an act of supreme treachery: he has seized the throne, occupied the land, and taken Arthur’s queen—who subsequently flees to Carlyon to live out her days as a nun. Arthur summons his host, including the knights of the Round Table, and pursues Mordred. The war culminates in a catastrophic battle in Cornwall, where Arthur’s nephew, Gawain, is killed, and the ranks of the faithful are slaughtered. Though Arthur succeeds in killing Mordred, he is mortally wounded in the fray. He is taken to the isle of Avalon, identified by the poet as Glastonbury, where he dies. The poem closes with a nod to the enduring local belief that Arthur did not truly perish but remains a king in waiting, while noting that his tomb at Glastonbury bears the famous Latin inscription marking him as the king who was and shall be again.

How It Unfolds

The king’s origins. The poem opens with the magical, illicit circumstances of Arthur’s birth and his subsequent coronation, establishing him as a leader defined by both physical prowess and a desire for social equality at his table.

The call to empire. Arthur’s peaceful reign is interrupted by the ambition of the Roman Emperor, whose haughty demands for tribute serve as the catalyst for Arthur to launch a massive, continent-spanning military campaign.

The giant’s shadow. A detour into the macabre involves Arthur’s grueling duel with a Spanish giant, an episode that highlights the king’s role as a protector of the innocent before the larger political conflict resumes.

The clash of nations. The narrative surges toward the climactic battle against the Roman host, emphasizing the massive scale of the armies and the central importance of divine intervention in the outcome.

The rot within. The final movement turns abruptly domestic and tragic, detailing Mordred’s betrayal and the hollow, pyrrhic nature of the king’s victory in the final, blood-soaked confrontation in Cornwall.

The final rest. The work concludes at Glastonbury, linking the mythic king to a real-world site and acknowledging the lingering, resilient hope of his return.

The People

Arthur acts as the gravitational center of the work. He is a paradox: a man of "avowtrye" who nonetheless demands absolute loyalty and religious devotion from his followers. He is defined by his strength, his courtesy, and his unwavering belief that his right to rule is ordained by God.

Mordred stands as the inverted mirror of the king. He is the "tretour" who exploits the trust placed in him, trading his loyalty for a fleeting grasp at power. His actions are the primary engine of the story's tragic collapse, representing the destructive nature of ambition.

Gawain appears as the loyal pillar of the Round Table. His presence at Arthur’s side and his eventual death in the final battle serve to emphasize the personal cost of Mordred’s insurrection.

Bedwere acts as the king’s right hand, serving as the spy who scouts the giant and the loyal steward who carries out the burial of the dead. He represents the administrative and military backbone of the Arthurian court.

Lucius, the Roman Emperor, serves primarily as the foil to Arthur’s burgeoning empire. His arrogance and his dismissive treatment of the British king trigger the central conflict, ultimately becoming the instrument of his own ruin.

In Its Own Voice

The poet establishes the tone of the work immediately, inviting the reader to listen to the deeds of the hero:

"Herkeneþ, þat loueþ honour, Of kyng Arthour & hys labour."

The brutal simplicity of the duel with Frollo captures the visceral, wordless violence of the combat:

"There was no word y-spoke, But eche had other by the throte."

What It's Really About

The poem functions as a meditation on the fragility of worldly glory. While the text celebrates the expansion of Arthur’s empire, it consistently tethers this success to the necessity of divine favor and the inevitability of loss. It poses a fundamental question regarding the nature of kingship: if a leader founds his realm on the principle of equality—the Round Table—can that realm survive the inevitable corruption of his subordinates? The work argues that even the most "courteous" and "large" king cannot insulate himself from the sins of his own house. Ultimately, it frames human history as a series of cycles—conquest, feast, and ruin—where the only constant is the need for prayer and the faint, persistent hope that a lost golden age might somehow return.

Why Read It Today

This text is not a polished, modern novel; it is a raw, evocative artifact of the fifteenth century. Readers will likely find the Southern Middle English dialect and the unfamiliar orthography—such as the use of the "yogh" character—to be a minor hurdle, yet one that rewards the patient reader with a rhythmic, direct style of storytelling. There is no flowery padding here; the narrative moves with a ruthless, efficient pace, focusing on action and the moral implications of the king’s choices.

You will enjoy this if you have an interest in the "bones" of Arthurian legend, or if you prefer history stripped of the later, more sentimental layers of courtly romance. It lacks the complex interiority of later interpretations, but it possesses a certain grim, historical gravity. What stays with you is the starkness of the ending—the quiet image of a ruined queen becoming a nun, and the king being carried to his final resting place at Glastonbury. It is a haunting, unpretentious account that feels less like a myth and more like a chronicle of a life that actually happened, leaving the reader with the same sense of melancholy reflection that the poet clearly felt for his subject.