Buxton in the High Peak, Derbyshire
NOTE: As there are still many proponents of a Badon place-name with a Brythonic etymology - despite the fact that no such Brythonic etymology has been discovered or proposed - I felt it necessary to re-post this blog entry. The idea is fairly simple, and not in doubt among leading Celticists: the name is British, but is also a British form of an Anglo-Saxon name. As to why Gildas would have used such a form, well, I have discussed that in this chapter from my book THE ARTHUR OF HISTORY. Essentially, the place was named for a pagan goddess in the original Brythonic language. Gildas was a devout Christian, later to become a saint, and as such could not assign a pagan name to the scene of a great British victory against the pagans. Thus he defaulted to his own people's rendering of the innocuous Saxon word for "Baths". For those who haven't bothered to read my full treatment of Arthur's Badon battle, I include it here once more in its entirety.
The
Twelfth Battle: Mount Badon
Badon
is a difficult place-name for an unexpected reason. As Kenneth Jackson
proclaimed:
"No
such British name is known, nor any such stem." [To be briefly mentioned
in the context of Badon is the Middle Welsh word bad, 'plague, pestilence,
death' (GPC; first attested in the 14th century), from Proto-Celtic
*bato-, cf. Old Irish bath. Some have asked me whether this word could be the
root of Badon - to which Dr. Graham I. Isaac, of the National University of Ireland,
Galway, responds emphatically, "No, absolutely no. A (modern) W form _bad_
etc. would have been spelt in the W of the ancient period as _bat_ and there
can be no connection since _Bad(on)_ is what we find." Other noteworthy Celtic
linguists, such as Dr. Simon Rodway of Aberystwyth University, Dr. Richard Coates
of the University of the West of England and Professor Ranko Matasovic of the
University of Zagreb, agree with Isaac on this point. Matasovic adds: “Professor
Isaac is right; since we have references to Badon in Early Welsh sources, the
name would have been spelled with –t- (for voiced /d/). The spelling where the
letter <d> stands for /d/ and <dd> for the voiced dental fricative
was introduced in the late Middle Ages.”]
Graham
Isaac has the following to say on the nature of the word Badon, which I take to
be authoritative.
His
explanation of why Gildas's Badon cannot be derived from one of the Badburys (like
Liddington Castle, often cited as a prime candidates for Badon) is critical in
an eventual identification of this battle site. Although long and rather
complicated, his argument is convincing and I have, therefore, opted to present
it unedited:
"Remember
in all that follows that both the -d - in Badon and the -th- in OE Bathum are
pronounced like th in 'bathe' and Modern Welsh - dd-. Remember also that in Old
English spelling, the letters thorn and the crossed d are interchangeable in
many positions: that is variation in spelling, not in sound, and has no significance
for linguistic arguments.
It
is curious that a number of commentators have been happy to posit a 'British'
or 'Celtic' form Badon. The reason seems to be summed up succinctly by Tolstoy
in the 1961 article (p. 145):
'It
is obviously impossible that Gildas should have given a Saxon name for a
British locality'.
Why?
I see no reason at all in the world why he should not do so (begging the
question as to what, exactly, is the meaning of 'British locality' here; Gildas
is just talking about a hill). This then becomes the chief crutch of the
argument, as shown on p. 147 of Tolstoy's article: 'But that there was a Celtic
name ‘Badon’ we know from the very passage in Gildas under discussion'.
But
that is just circular: ' "Badon" must be "Celtic" because
Gildas only uses "Celtic" names'. This is no argument. What would
have to be shown is that 'Badon' is a regular reflex of a securely attested
'Celtic' word. This is a matter of empirical detail and is easily tested; we
have vast resources to tell us what was and was not a 'Celtic' word. And there
is nothing like 'Badon'.
So
what do we do? Do we just say that 'Badon' must be Celtic because Gildas uses
it? That gets us nowhere.
So
what of the relationships between aet Bathum - Badon - Baddanbyrig? The crucial
point is just that OE Bathum and the Late British / very early Welsh Badon we
are talking about both have the soft -th- sound of 'bathe' and Mod.Welsh
'Baddon'. Baddanbyrig, however, has a long d-sound like -d d- in 'bad day'.
Both languages, early OE and Late British, had both the d-sound and the soft
th-sound.
So:
So:
1)
If
the English had taken over British (hypothetical and actually non-existent)
*Badon (*Din Badon or something), they would have made it *Bathanbyrig or the like,
and the modern names of these places would be something like *Bathbury.
2)
If
the British had taken over OE Baddanbyrig, they would have kept the d-sound,
and Gildas would have written 'Batonicus mons', and Annales Cambriae would have
'bellum Batonis', etc. (where the -t- is the regular early SPELLING of the
sound -d-; always keep your conceptions of spellings and your conceptions of
sounds separate; one of the classic errors of the untrained is to fail to
distinguish these).
I
imagine if that were the case we would have no hesitation is identifying
'Baton' with a Badbury place. But the d-sound and the soft th -sound are not
interchangeable. It is either the one or the other, and in fact it is the soft
th -sound that is in 'Badon', and that makes it equivalent to Bathum, not
Baddanbyrig.
(That
applies to the sounds. On the other hand there is nothing strange about the
British making Bad-ON out of OE Bath -UM. There was nothing in the Late
British/early Welsh language which corresponded to the dative plural ending - UM
of OE, so it was natural for the Britons to substitute the common British
suffix - ON for the very un-British OE suffix -UM: this is not a substitution
of SOUNDS, but of ENDINGS, which is quite a different matter. That Gildas then
makes an unproblematic Latin adjective with -icus out of this does not require
comment.)
To
conclude:
1)
There is no reason in the world why a 6thcentury British author should not
refer to a place in Britain by its OE name.
2)
There was no 'British' or 'Celtic' *Badon.
3)
'Badon' does not correspond linguistically with OE Baddanbyrig.
4)
'Badon' is the predictably regular Late British / early Welsh borrowing of OE
Bathum.
Final
note: the fact that later OE sources occasionally call Bath 'Badon' is just a
symptom of the book-learning of the authors using the form.
Gildas
was a widely read and highly respected author, and Badon(-is) (from Gildas's
adjective Badonicus) will quickly and unproblematically have become the
standard book-form (i.e. primarily Latin form) for the name of Bath. Again, all
attempts to gain some sort of linguistic mileage from the apparent, but
illusory, OE variation between Bathum and Badon are vacuous."
It
is thus safe to say that 'Badon' must derive from a Bath name. However, we must
not restrict ourselves to the Southern Bath, which makes no sense in the
context of a Northern Arthur.
For
as it happens, there is a major Northern ‘Bath’ site that has gone completely
unnoticed!
In
the the High Peak District of Derbyshire we find Buxton. This town had once
been roughly on the southernmost boundary of Brigantian tribal territory
(thought to lie along a line roughly from the Mersey in the west to the Humber
in the east). It was also just within Britannia Inferior (that part of northern
Britain ruled from York), whose boundary was again from the Mersey, but
probably more towards The Wash.
In
the Roman period, Buxton was the site of Aquae Arnemetiae, ‘the waters in front
of (the goddess) Nemetia’. To the best of our knowledge, Bath in Somerset and
Buxton in Derbyshire were the only two ‘Aquae’ towns in Britain.
But
even better, there is a Bathum name extant at Buxton. The Roman road which
leads to Buxton from the northeast, through the Peak hills, is called
Bathamgate. Batham is ‘baths’, the exact dative plural we need to match the
name Bathum/Badon. -gate is ‘road, street’, which comes from ME gate, itself a
derivative of OScand gata. Bathamgate is thus ‘Baths Road’.
The
recorded forms for Bathamgate are as follows:
Bathinegate
(for Bathmegate), 1400, from W. Dugdale's
Monasticon Anghcanum, 6 vols, London 1817-1830.
Bathom
gate, 1538, from Ancient Deeds in the Public
Record Office
Batham
Gate, 1599, from records of the Duchy of Lancaster Special Commissions in the
Public Record
Office.
Buxton
sits in a bowl about one thousand feet above sea level surrounded by mountains
and is itself a mountain spa. The natural mineral water of Buxton emerges from
a group of springs at a constant temperature of 82 degrees Fahrenheit and is,
thus, a thermal water. There are also cold springs and a supply of chalybeate
(iron bearing) water. The evidence of Mesolithic man suggests a settlement
dating to about 5000 BCE and archaeological finds in the Peak District around
the settlement show habitation through the Neolithic, Bronze and Iron Ages to
the time of the Romans.
From
the historical evidence we can say that Buxton was a civilian settlement of some
importance, situated on the intersection of several roads, and providing
bathing facilities in warm mineral waters. In short, it was a Roman spa.
Place-names in and around Buxton, and Anglo-Saxon finds in burial mound
excavations, suggest a continuing inhabitation of the area and probable use of
the mineral waters.
It
has long been speculated that we should expect to find a military installation
at Buxton. However, subsequent archaeological fieldwork, including excavations,
in and around suggested locations at the spa town have singularly failed to
establish a military presence. A 'ditch feature' identified initially through
resistivity survey and then from aerial photography above Mill Cliff, Buxton,
gave rise to the almost confident interpretation of this site as being that of
the fort: subsequent evaluation in advance of development, however, has shown
that these features were geological rather than man-made, and the absence of
Roman finds of any description from a series of evaluation trenches suggests
that if Buxton
had a fort it was located elsewhere.
Today,
the site of the probable Roman baths is covered by the Georgian Crescent
building. In this area during the seventeenth and eighteenth century
discoveries of lead lined baths, red plaster and building remains were made at
some considerable depth in the sediments which surround the area of St Anne's
well. In the eighteenth century, Pilkington investigated a mound overlooking
the site of the previous discoveries. Here he found a structure which has been
interpreted as a probable classical temple - one of only three known from
Britain. In the mid-seventies, following the removal of a 20th century
swimming pool, a brick structure was exposed and a deposit containing 232 Roman
coins, 3 bronze bracelets and a wire clasp ranging in date from the 1st to the
end of the 4th century CE was excavated.
This
intriguing series of early discoveries lends tangible support to the
interpretation of Buxton as the 'Bath of the North', but the character and extent
of civilian settlement - and whether this was in association with a military
installation or not, remains obscure. A considerable range of small finds,
together with occasional glimpses of apparently Roman contexts, from the
backgardens of houses has failed to provide a clear sense of the extent of
Roman Buxton, let alone a soundly based understanding of its chronology and
development. The dating of coinage in the 'votive' deposit from near the
Crescent might be seen to indicate heightened frequencies of offerings during
the third and fourth centuries. To what extent this might correlate with the
development of settlement at Buxton is a matter of some conjecture.
At
Poole's cavern, Buxton, excavations between 1981
and 1983 by Peakland Archaeological Society and Buxton Archaeological Society produced
a large Romano-British assemblage containing a considerable body of metalwork
including coins and brooches, rolls of thin sheet bronze, along with ceramics,
a faunal assemblage and burials. The dating of the coins and fibulae point to
use between the late 1st and 3rd centuries, with the majority being
of 2nd century date. Indeed, reanalysis of the material has suggested that the
cave saw its principal period of use between 120 and 220 CE. The excavators appeared
to reveal some spatial separation of the coin and fibulae finds from the
pottery and faunal remains, although this has been questioned.
Discussing
the possible character of the use of the site Bramwell and Dalton draw
attention to the comparative absence of spindle whorls, loom weights and bone
hairpins which might be expected from a domestic site. Instead, they see the evidence
as supporting the interpretation of the site as that of a rural shrine or
sanctuary.
This
too has subsequently been questioned and rejected. Instead, Branigan and Dawley
interpret the site as essentially domestic, but with the additional refuse from
a metalworker’s activities. They see a link between Poole's Cavern and the growth
of Buxton as a spa centre providing a ready local market for small decorative
trinkets.
The
general trend of the evidence suggests that the Roman site may have consisted of
a temple overlooking a set of Roman baths. At Bath we have a clear idea of the
layout of a significant bath/water shrine complex which consisted of two major
ranges: a temple and a religious precinct, within which lay the sacred spring; alongside
this range were a line of three baths within a major building, at one end of
which lay a typical Roman bathhouse or sauna. The Bath buildings were lavishly
built in a classical style and the whole complex attracted visitors from outside
the province.
In
essence the Buxton layout mirrors that a Bath:
parallel to the spring line is a temple and alongside the springs is a range of
possibly Roman baths. As the Buxton temple is two-thirds the size of that at
Bath we could assume the Buxton
complex was somewhat smaller.
If
the grove of the goddess Nemetia continued as an important shrine well into
Arthur’s time (and the presence of St. Anne’s Well at the site of the town’s
ancient baths shows that the efficacy of the sacred waters was appropriated by
Christians), there is the possibility the Saxons targeted Buxton for exactly
this reason. Taking the Britons’ shrine would have struck them a demoralizing
blow. If the goddess or saint or goddess-become-saint is herself not safe from the
depredations of the barbarians, who is?
A
threat to such a shrine may well have galvanized British resistence. Arthur
himself may have been called upon to lead the British in the defense of
Nemetia's waters and her temple grove.
There
may be a very good reason why Gildas (or his source, or a later interpolator)
may have opted for English Bathum (rendered Badon in the British
language of the day). The two famous 'baths' towns were anciently known as
Aquae Sulis
and Aquae Arnemetiae for the two goddesses presiding over the hot springs. As
Arthur is made out to be the preeminent Christian hero, who in the Welsh Annals
has a shield bearing the Cross of Christ that he carries during the Battle of
Badon, it would not do for the ancient Romano-British
name to be used in this context. To
have done so would inevitably have referred directly to a pagan deity. Hence
the generic and less “connotation-loaded” Germanic name for the place was
substituted. This explanation might do much to placate those who insist on
seeing Badon as a Celtic name.
And
where is the most likely location for the monte/montis of the
Baths/Batham/Badon, where the actual battle was fought?
I
make this out to be what is now referred to as The Slopes, at the foot of which
is the modern St. Ann’s Well, and the Crescent, under which the original Roman
bath was built. The Slopes were once called St. Ann’s Cliff because it was a prominent
limestone outcrop. The Tithe map of 1848 shows that the upper half of the Cliff
was still largely covered in trees. I suspect the spring was anciently thought
to arise from inside the Cliff, and that the trees covering it marked the
precincts of the nemeton or sacred grove of Arnemetia.
The
three days and three nights Arthur bore the cross (or, rather, a shield bearing
an image of a cross) at Badon in the Welsh Annals are markedly similar to the
three days and three nights Urien is said to have blockaded the Saxons in the
island of Lindsfarne (British Metcaud) in Chapter 63 of the HB. In Gildas,
immediately before mention of Badon, we have the following phrase: "From
then on victory went now to our countrymen, now to their enemies…"
Similarly, just prior mention of Urien at Lindisfarne, we have this:
"During that time, sometimes the enemy, sometimes the Cymry were
victorious…" It would seem, therefore, that either the motif of the three
days and three nights was taken from the Urien story and inserted into that of
Arthur or vice-versa.
What
is fascinating about this parallel is that Lindisfarne or ‘Holy Island’, as it
came to be known, was an important spiritual centre of Northern Britain. The
inclusion of the three days and three nights (an echo of the period Christ spent
in the tomb) in the Badon story suggests that we can no longer accept the view
that Arthur's portage of Christian symbols at Badon was borrowed solely from
the Castle Guinnion battle account in the HB. Aquae Arnemetiae, like Lindisfarne,
was a holy place. Arthur's fighting there may have been construed as a holy
act.
Supposedly,
960 Saxons were slain by Arthur at Badon.
In the past, most authorities have seen in the number 960 no more than a
fanciful embellishment on the Annals' entry, i.e. more evidence of Arthur as a ‘legend
in the making’. But 960 could be a very significant number, militarily speaking.
The first cohort of a Roman legion was composed of six doubled centuries or 960
men. As the most important unit, the first cohort guarded the Roman Imperial
eagle standard.
Now,
while the Roman army in the late period no longer possessed a first cohort
composed of this number of soldiers, it is possible Nennius's 960 betrays an
antiquarian knowledge of earlier Roman military structure. However, why the
Saxons are said to have lost such a number cannot be explained in terms of such
an anachronistic description of a Roman unit.
The
simplest explanation for Nennius's 960 is that it represents 8 Saxon long
hundreds, each long hundred being composed of 120 warriors.
To
quote from Tacitus on the Germanic long hundred:
"On
general survey, their [the German's] strength is seen to lie rather in their
infantry, and that is why they combine the two arms in battle. The men who they
select from the whole force and station in the van are fleet of foot and fit
admirably into cavalry action. The number of these chosen men is exactly fixed.
A hundred are drawn from each district, and 'the hundred' is the name they bear
at home. What began as a mere number ends as a title of distinction" [Germania
6]
Curiously,
in the Norse poem Grimnismal, 8 hundreds of warriors (probably 960) pass through
each of the doors of Valhall, the Hall of the Slain, at the time of Ragnarok or
the Doom of the Powers.
Osla
or Ossa Big-Knife and Caer Faddon
It
has often been said that the Welsh Caer Faddon is always a designation for Bath
in Avon.
However,
at least one medieval Welsh tale points strongly towards the ‘Baths’ at Buxton
as the proper site.
I
am speaking, of course, of the early Arthurian romance ‘The Dream of Rhonabwy’,
sometimes considered to be a part of the Mabinogion collection of tales.
Rhonabwy is transported back in time via the vehicle of a dream to the eve of
the battle of Caer Faddon. Arthur has apparently come from Cornwall (as he is
said to return thither after a truce is made) to mid-Wales and thence to Caer
Faddon to meet with Osla or Ossa, a true historical contemporary of Arthur who lies
at the head of the royal Bernician pedigree.
As
Arthur is said to progress from Rhyd-y-Groes to Long Mountain, he is traveling
to the northeast via the Roman road. In other words, he is headed in the
direction of Buxton in the High Peak.
While
the romance is entirely fanciful, the chronological accuracy in the context of
choosing Osla/Ossa is rather uncanny. Furthermore, it is quite clear that in
the tradition the author of the romance was drawing from, Caer Faddon is most certainly
not Bath. Ossa is known in English sources for being the first of the
Bernicians to come to England from the Continent. Under his descendants,
Bernicia became a great kingdom, stretching eventually from the Forth to the Tees.
In the 7th century, Deira – which controlled roughly the area between the Tees
and the Humber - was joined with Bernicia to form the Kingdom of Northumbria.
In
its heyday, Northumbria shared a border with its neighbor to the south – Mercia
– at the River Mersey of ‘Boundary River’. The Mersey flows east to Stockport,
where it essentially starts at the confluence of the River Tame and Goyt. The Goyt
has its headwaters on Axe Edge, only a half a dozen kilometers from Buxton in
the High Peak.
If
we allow for the story’s author to have properly chosen Ossa as Arthur’s true
contemporary, but to have viewed Northumbria in an anachronistic fashion – i.e.
as extending to the River Mersey – then with Ossa coming from Bernicia in the
extreme north of England, and with Arthur coming from Cornwall in the extreme
southwest - their meeting for a battle at Buxton makes a great deal of sense.
In fact, Buxton is pretty much exactly equidistant between the two locations. Ossa
would have been viewed as engaging in a battle just across the established
boundary.
If
I am right about this, the Welsh knew of the ‘Bathum’ or Badon that was Buxton. Certainly, it cannot have been the Bath in Somerset, as there is otherwise no reason for the Cornish Arthur to have been in central/northeastern Wales while on his way to fight Ossa.
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