Geoffrey’s History: Fact or Forgery?

Robin Phillips, July 2005

Geoffrey of Monmouth (1100 – 1154) was the author of History of the Kings of Britain, a Latin work which spans 1900 years and provides a wealth of historical material. Beginning with the founding of Britain by Brutus, Geoffrey takes us right through to the period of the Saxon domination, concentrating mainly on the different Kings of Britain. The bulk of Geoffrey’s history concerns the story of Brutus (who is said to have been the grandson of Aeneas and the founder of Britain), the story of Belinus (who is said to have sacked Rome), and the story of King Arthur.

For years historians considered Geoffrey’s work to be one of the most invaluable primary sources on ancient British history. More recently, however, scholars have begun to doubt Geoffrey’s credibility. Some have suggested that the History of the Kings of Britain bares the same relation to actual British history as the seventeen historical books of the Bible have to the actual history of the Jews, the implication being that neither should be too heavily relied upon as providing a reliable account of what actually occurred. Other scholars have suggested that the History of the Kings of Britain is pure fiction, laced with a few historical facts in order to better deceive the readers. Historian Lewis Thorpe seems to represent a contrast to such scepticism when he says that “nobody who has examined the evidence carefully can ever dare to say that Geoffrey of Monmouth…simply made up his material.” Nevertheless, he also says, “This particular Brutus never existed; Rome was never sacked by a Briton called Belinus; and Geoffrey’s Arthur is far nearer to the fictional hero of the later Arthurian romances…than to the historical Arthur....” Finally, Thorpe, concludes that “most of the material in the History really is fictional and someone did invent it.”[1]

Others have been even less generous by considering Geoffrey to be a forger.[2] The editor of The Times once called Geoffrey an “unscrupulous liar” and compared his records with the fiction of Mark Twain and Hollywood![3] Even as early as 1190, just forty years after Geoffrey’s death, a fellow chronicler, William of Newburgh, wrote about Geoffrey, saying

It is quite clear that everything this man wrote about Arthur and his successors, or indeed about his predecessors from Vortigern onwards, was made up, partly by himself and partly by others, either from an inordinate love of lying, or for the sake of pleasing the Britons.[4]

Why has Geoffrey’s work invited such widespread scepticism? One of the chief difficulties has been Geoffrey’s sources. Geoffrey claimed that his History of the Kings of Britain was based on “a certain very ancient book written in the British language” which his friend, Walter the Archdeacon, presented him and asked him to translate into Latin. Geoffrey claims further to have translated this book and used it as the basis for History of the Kings of Britain. This has bothered scholars simply because they do not possess any such book. As Sir John Lloyd wrote, “no Welsh composition exists which can be reasonably looked upon as the original, or even the groundwork, of the History of the Kings of Britain.”[5] It is strange that this should be a concern, given that we do not possess the original autographs for many of the standard works on which scholars are accustomed to rely. Nevertheless, many scholars seriously doubt that such a book ever existed and argue, instead, that Geoffrey’s supposed “translation” was simply a forgery. Another argument - more generous yet more bizarre – has maintained that when Geoffrey claimed to have translated a book given to him by his friend, he was using the word “book” in a poetic or allegorical sense to refer to the whole body of knowledge that the archdeacon had imparted to him.

Is there any evidence which might suggest that the History of the Kings of Britain is, in fact, a reliable historical source? Against the consensus of scepticism, I would like to suggest that the answer to this question is yes. Although Geoffrey’s work, like any historical text, may contain errors, there is enough evidence to show, almost beyond any reasonable doubt, that he could not have been making up his material.

We start with the question of sources. Although it would be bad historical scholarship to dismiss a work merely because we do not possess the original sources, it is always a bonus when the originals are accessible. In the present case, scholars repeatedly tell us that Geoffrey’s source material, if it existed at all, has been lost. However, this is not entirely accurate. At the Bodleian Library, Oxford, there is a manuscript catalogued as Jesus College MS LXI, also known as the Tysilio Chronicle. This manuscript is a medieval Welsh translation of the same source that Geoffrey was commissioned to translate into Latin. Of further interest is the fact that the colophon reveals that it was again Walter the archdeacon who commissioned the translation, this time into medieval Welsh instead of Latin. This manuscript presents an unanswerable argument against all the scholars who maintain that Geoffrey was lying when he claimed to have translated such a book.

Before looking further at what we can learn about Geoffrey’s work from this manuscript, I would like to say a few words about the group of manuscripts to which it belongs. The Tysilio Chronicle is but one of many manuscripts that, like the writings of the Druids, have been overlooked, if not purposely ignored, by modern scholarship. One hardly ever hears historians refer, for example, to the writings of the Druids and Bards, to say nothing of the Myvyrian manuscript which consists of 47 volumes of Druidic and Bardic poetry, containing about 4,700 individual pieces of poetry in 1,600 pages and about 2,000 epigrammatic stanzas. The same collection also contains 53 volumes of prose in about 15,300 pages and a number of other interesting documents on various subjects. Many manuscripts also survive from the early Welsh Chronicles: 42 such manuscripts exist in the National Library of Wales, at Aberystwyth; 6 such manuscripts in the Public Library at Cardiff, Wales; 4 such manuscripts at Jesus College Library, Oxford; 6 in the British library, London. It is within this body of manuscripts that the Tysilio Chronicle belongs. Reflecting on these manuscripts, Bill Cooper writes

Given that they are all catalogued in easily accessible collections, it is astonishing that even their very existence goes unmentioned by most scholars who are aware of them, and that British history prior to 55 BC remains a blank page.[6]

In 1917, Flinders Petrie likewise drew attention to the vast body of documentary source material that was being overlooked by modern historians, including the manuscript that sheds light on Geoffrey’s history.[7] One of the reasons why academia has been reluctant to acknowledge the existence of these manuscripts may be that were this material better known, it would dislodge the residual impression of the ancient Britons as uncivilized and barbaric. This would, in turn, require a complete overthrow of the categories into which British history has conventionally fallen. Cooper has suggested that another reason why these sources have been overlooked is that the early ascendancy of the Saxons, coupled with the destruction of Bangor, “meant that all recorded history of the Britons was consigned to oblivion as far as historians and chroniclers were concerned, with only Roman, Saxon and later, Norman accounts of events being taught and promulgated in schools throughout the land.”[8]

We must now turn back to consider exactly how the Welsh or Tysilio chronicle helps to establish the reliability of Geoffrey’s history.

The Welsh chronicle and Geoffrey’s history contain an account of Bran (Brennius in Geoffrey’s Latin version) and how he led an invasion of Italy and sacked Rome. The very idea that Rome was once sacked by Britons has been habitually dismissed as one more of Geoffrey’s outlandish inventions. However, if our historians were better acquainted with Roman historiography, Geoffrey’s tale would not seem so far-fetched. The Roman historian, Titus Livius, lived from BC 59 to AD 17 and also testified to this event. Livius’ magisterial History of Rome consisted of 142 books, 35 of which have been preserved to the present day. Among the books that have survived is book 5, wherein we read about the sack of Rome by the Gallic Celts around the year 390 BC. The names and details of this event align too closely with Geoffrey and the Welsh chronicle for us to justifiably dismiss either, while the differences in the accounts render impossible the suggestion that the British writers were simply adapting Livius.[9]

Geoffrey’s record of Caesar’s invasion in BC 55 has been criticized as being simply a rehashed version of Julius Caesar’s well known report. It is assumed that there could not have been eye witness British accounts of the invasion since, as we are told, Celtic literacy did not exist at such an early date. It would follow then that any information found in Geoffrey or the Welsh chronicles which does not also appear in Caesar must necessarily have been made up, presumably in order to make the British look good. Using Caesar’s report as their source material, the British writers would have had ample opportunity to revel in the mistakes Caesar confesses to having committed, such as the serious miscalculations about the tide and weather which almost lost Caesar his army. What we find, however, is that these accounts are completely silent about such matters for the simple reason that their eye-witness sources would not have been aware of them. Equally significant is the fact that Geoffrey and the Welsh chronicle omit to mention those aspects for which Caesar praises the Britons, such as the remarkable effectiveness of their tactics. Commenting on this omission, Cooper writes that

One could reasonably expect that a later forger or compiler would triumphantly have mentioned how his forebears terrified and almost defeated the Romans with superior and ingenious fighting tactics, but not a contemporary Briton who was recording the same events as Caesar but from a different vantage point. But, again, why should a contemporary Briton mention tactics with which he and his intended readers would have been all too familiar?[10]

The British accounts tell how the Britons gathered together at a fort in Kent under the leadership of Kasswallawn (whom Caesar calls Cassivelaunus). The name of this fort, according to the Welsh chronicle, is fort Doral, while Geoffrey uses the Latin Dorobellum. This fort stands midway between Canterbury and Rochester and is referred to by later Latin writers as fort Durolevum. The reason we do not read about this in Caesar’s account is simply that he would not have known about it. Caesar was only aware of the locals who met his invasion on the beach and had no knowledge of what was going on elsewhere with the main British forces. Nennius, writing in the 8^th century, also refers to Dolabella, though his source document mistakes the fort where the warriors were gathered for the personal name of a British warrior. The fact that no such corruption exists in the Welsh chronicle or Geoffrey’s translation of it, suggests the antiquity and authenticity of their common source material.

Even the mistakes found in Geoffrey and the Welsh chronicle support their authenticity. Sometimes when the British accounts describe details of their enemies’ names and places, there are anomalies. Under wartime conditions we should expect that details of the enemy will sometimes be garbled, but we would certainly not expect to find this from a Medieval hand that had Caesar’s account before him! Again, the conclusion seems irresistible that the Welsh chronicle (on which Geoffrey’s history was based), was itself based on eye-witness records of these events.

Geoffrey’s History is particularly helpful in recording how Britain was founded by Brutus. This is easy for scholars to ridicule, especially as it makes mention of the Trojan war and Giants. However, Flinders Petrie has proved beyond any reasonable doubt that it would have been completely impossible for Geoffrey to have invented this account. [11] Consider the record given about Brutus’ voyage before finally landing on the shores of Britain. The names of the islands and maritime landmarks given are remarkably accurate and correspond to what would have been well known to seamen before and during the Roman empire, continuing right up to AD 700. During the 8^th century, the Arab conquest wiped out the old trade and place names. It follows that if Geoffrey, writing in the twelfth century, was making things up rather than drawing on earlier source material, then he must have got these older maritime names from a Roman author. However, no single Roman author mentions all these places. More significantly, however, the limitation of medieval maps make it “impossible to suppose a medieval writing having enough geography at hand to compile such a mariner’s list of six minor place in the right order, as they stood during the Roman Empire.”[12]

There are many other little details that clearly Geoffrey and the Welsh chronicle could not have made up. For example, before Brutus sailed to the African coast, he is said to have stopped on an island which the Welsh chronicle calls Legetta and which Geoffrey translates as Leogetia. Today this island is called Levkás. Cooper points out that the British accounts give accurate details of this island which would not have been known to a medieval forger, even one possessing an unusual degree of accuracy for that time.[13] Again, the British accounts must have drawn on earlier source material. Consider also the mention of Greek Fire in the story of Brutus. Before the time of the Crusades, Greek Fire was entirely unheard of by Europeans. Did a medieval forger just happen to stumble on the truth here?

Equally relevant is the fact that a number of archaeological discoveries attest to the truth of Geoffrey’s writings. Thorpe has reported some of these discoveries in his introduction to Geoffrey’s History.[14]

This is just a selection of the information available to vindicate Geoffrey from the charge that he was lying when he claimed to be drawing on earlier source material. In the light of these facts, it is most unfortunate that historians will not avail themselves of the rich resource Geoffrey provides, on matters as important as the founding of Britain and the victories and exploits of the early British kings.

Return to Robin Phillips HOMEPAGE

You are invited to join my mailing list!

As a member of my mailing list, you will receive automatic notification about additional material and features on this site, as well as occasional newsletters. To join, send a blank email to

largerhope @ tiscali.co.uk

with “Join” in the subject heading. To unjoin, send a blank email with “Unjoin” in the subject heading.

(Note: for anti-spam purposes, the above email address has had spaced inserted before and after the @ sign. The address will only work after deleting these spaces.)

[1] Lewis Thorpe, Introduction to Geoffrey’s The History of the Kings of Britain, translated by Lewis Thorpe (London: Guild Publishing, 1966), p. 17.

[2] See H. Marsh, Dark Age Britain: Some Sources of History (New York: Dorset Press, 1987), pp. 175-190.

[3] Editorial in The Times for Friday August 7, 1998.

[4] William of Newburgh, Historia Rerum Anglicarum, edited by R. Howlett in Chronicles of the reigns of Stephen,,Henry II and Richard I (Rolls Series), 1884-5, premium, I, ii.

[5] J. E. Lloyd, A History of Wales from the earliest times to the Edwardian Conquest (London: 1939), p. 526.

[6] Bill Cooper, B.A. Hons, After the Flood: The early post-flood history of Europe traced back to Noah (Chichester: New Wine Press, 1995), p. 211.

[7] ‘Neglected British History’, an address given to the British Academy on 7^th November, 1917, published in Humphrey Milford, Proceedings of the British Academy Vol. Viii. (Oxford: Oxford University Press), pp. 1-28.