London Before the Conquest

by W. R. Lethaby

This is the natural genesis of the myth of the founding of London, and it is evident on the face of it that it is not the clever work of a romance-writer embroidering on Nennius, but genuine folk-lore or imperfect science.

In the twelfth century the story was accepted as gospel in London. The (so-called) Laws of the Confessor provide that the Hustings Court should sit every Monday, for London was founded after the pattern of Great Troy, “and to the present day contains within itself the laws and ordinances, dignities, liberties, and royal customs of ancient Great Troy.”[13] FitzStephen refers back to the same origins, and the same were adduced in a dispute with the Abbot of Bury as to market privileges which the Londoners claimed dated from the foundation of the city before Rome was founded.[14] Perhaps there is no absolutely certain proof that the Troy story was told in London before Geoffrey’s time, but it seems likely, judging from the number of detailed London allusions in Geoffrey’s work, that there was a British and Arthurian tradition current there before he wrote. Of the latter, at least, one positive scrap of confirmation may be offered. Amongst the names appended to a deed at St. Paul’s dated 1103 is that of Arturus, a canon. This carries back the use of the name Arthur to the time of the Conquest, and we may be certain that where the name was in use, there the story of the “noble King of the Britons” was told.[15] There was a strong contingent of the Celts of Brittany in the Conqueror’s army, and to them the invasion must have seemed a re-conquest of Britain, and stories of the time before the Saxons took the “crown of London” must have been revived and spread abroad.

There is some slight possibility that when Geoffrey tells us that Belinus made a wonderful structure at the quay called after him Billingsgate, he was not merely playing on the name of “some Saxon Billings,” as has been said, for Belinus is recognised as the best known of the Celtic gods, and the name has been found in many inscriptions.[16] Geoffrey again tells us that Belinus constructed the great Roman roads in Britain, and we cannot be asked to suppose that the Roman roads were said to be the work of Belinus because the same Saxon Mr. Billings kept a posting-house.[17] The weight of evidence seems to allow of the view that there really were some remarkable Roman structures at the Tower and Billingsgate which tradition pointed to as the work of the Celtic culture-god Belinus, or of a king who bore his name. Some remnants of a building seem to have had the myth attached to them in the Middle Ages. Harrison, giving a version of the story, says of the Tower, “In times past I find this Belliny held his abode there, and thereunto extended the site of his palace in such wise that it extended over the Broken Wharf and came farther into the city, in so much that it approached near to Billingsgate, and as it is thought, some of the ruins of his house are yet extant, howbeit patched up and made warehouses, in that tract of ground in our times” (Holinshed). Belinus seems at times to have been confused with Cæsar, and so we get the Cæsar’s Tower of Shakespeare and other writers. Stow, writing of the same “ruins,” says, “The common people affirm Julius Cæsar to be the builder thereof, as also of the Tower itself.”

Nennius uses the name Belinus for Cassibelaunus, which latter, indeed, is evidently derived from the former; for he speaks of Belinus (Cassibelaunus) fighting against Cæsar. A parallel passage in Geoffrey gives Belinus the command of the army of Cassibelaunus, but in the account of the battle which follows we have no word of Belinus, but “Nennius,” a brother of Cassibelaunus and Lud, takes his place and perishes from a blow of Cæsar’s sword, Crocea Mors. “Nennius” was then buried at the North Gate of “Trinovantum” with the sword that had slain him.[18] All this is too confused to work out in detail, but it almost looks like a repeated echo of some legend which made Cassibelaunus fall in a personal encounter with Cæsar. At bottom perhaps it may have been some inscription, or coin, lettered Cuno-belin, which associated the name of Belinus with a gate of London. Such coins have been found in London. We can only be certain that at the beginning of the twelfth century the existing name of the gate was explained by a Celtic word.

Fig. 7.—Coin of Claudius and another of Constantius,
the latter inscribed London (p.lon.). enlarged.

As to Geoffrey’s other story, which put a brazen man on a brazen horse over Ludgate, it would appear to be a variation on the story of the brazen horse of Vergilius, but I think we may find the origin of its localisation at Ludgate in the well-known coin of Claudius, which shows an equestrian image above an arch of triumph lettered DE BRITANN. This coin is one of those occasionally found in England, and we may suppose ancient antiquaries reasoned thus about it: “It must represent a city gate in Britain; the most important is the gate of London—Ludgate.” Why was the brazen horse put there? “For a terror to the Saxons” (so in Geoffrey). Who put it there? “King Lud himself, or Cadwaladr, the last British king.” When did it disappear? “When the Saxons entered the city”—as in the Prophecy of Merlin, “The brazen man upon a brazen horse shall for long guard the gates of London.... After that shall the German Worm (dragon) be crowned and the Brazen Prince be buried.” It was supposed to have been the palladium of Caer Lud, “and the sygte ther of the Saxons aferde.”[19]

For me the old British Solar God lights up the squalor of Billingsgate. The Sea God, Lud, and the brazen horse give me more pleasure than the railway bridge at Ludgate. Cæsar’s sword at Bishopsgate and the head of Bran buried on Tower Hill are real city assets. London is rich in romantic lore. In her cathedral Arthur was crowned and drew the sword from the stone. Here Iseult attended the council called by King Mark. From the quay Ursula and her virgins embarked; Launcelot swam his horse over the river at Westminster, and from it Guinevere went a-maying. Possibly some day we may be as wise as Henry the Third, and put up statues to Lud and his sons at the gate which bears his name for a memorial of these things.

The British legend of the foundation of London has left one tangible legacy to us even to this day in the Guildhall giants, Gog and Magog, who represent the Gogmagog of Geoffrey, a giant of the primitive people overcome by the Britons—the Magog of the Bible, who stands for the Scythian race. Thus the Guildhall Magog really represents the Ivernian race in Britain.