TINTAGEL, England -- Hugh Lawley stood among the crumbling walls of Tintagel Castle, cold wind whipping through his woolly black and gray hair. Two English ladies had momentarily attracted my guide's attention, and he was doing his best to answer their questions.
I tugged my baseball cap tightly back into place, looked out onto the Celtic Sea and silently marveled. Here I was, finally, atop a cliff overlooking the coast of northern Cornwall. At the very place where King Arthur was born 1,500 years ago.Maybe.
The fact is, nobody knows whether he was born here or someplace else. Historians can't even prove there was a real King Arthur.
I didn't care. I still don't. This is a place for believers.
On this brisk October morning, I was standing among the ruins of a 13th century English castle, built on the site of a fifth century castle. Literature, at least, suggests that this was the birthplace of Arthur in the Dark Ages.
A trip to Tintagel (Tin-TA-jel) Castle is an aerobic experience, no doubt about it.
"We're a quite fit bunch," Lawley said about the guides who work for English Heritage, a government-financed agency that oversees many of England's historic sites.
A steep gravel path leads down to the castle ticket office, then it's all uphill from there. It's a steep climb to the entrance and mainland courtyard. But most of the ruins lie on an island -- back down, across a modern wooden bridge and up some heart-pounding steps. Breathtaking, in a couple of ways.
Any ties to Arthur would be on the island, where the oldest parts of the castle are scattered. But that's getting ahead of the story.
What you actually find here is evidence of a little farmstead, with corrals for cattle, an oven for drying corn. And what you hear about is the discovery of Mediterranean and North African pottery fragments from the Dark Ages. Similar pieces have been found elsewhere in western England, but nowhere has as much been found as at Tintagel -- evidence that this was a place of importance.
"Whoever was here had quite expensive tastes, or they had quite a lot of money, if you like," Lawley said.
OK, OK, but what about Uther and Igraine, Arthur and Merlin?
"We don't put Arthur here because there's no historical basis, really," Lawley said. "But the nice thing, historically, is there was a lot going on here in the fifth and sixth centuries."
As shown by all those dishes. And the "Arthnou" stone. Two years ago archaeologists discovered a slate slab covering a sixth century drain. It offered more proof that some at the castle could read and write, and that Tintagel was a prominent settlement. The slate's Latin inscription translates as something like "Artognou, father of a descendant of Coll, has had this made."
Arthur's connection to Tintagel came about only when the English chronicler Geoffrey of Monmouth wrote his "History of the Kings of Britain" in the 12th century.
At Tintagel, Geoffrey, whose work has pretty much been discounted, saw "fifth century remains of quite a wealthy outpost," Lawley said. "Geoffrey must have known that wherever he said was the birthplace of King Arthur would have become a place of pilgrimage."
Geoffrey also made an important player of Merlin the magician, who reared Arthur. Far below the castle, Lawley pointed out a place at the foot of the cliff -- "Merlin's Cave," where the enchanter supposedly lived.
I flashed on Disney's befuddled Merlin from "The Sword in the Stone," with his long, white beard and slightly bent, conical hat. Then Lawley told me how he and his childhood friends used to dive from the cliffs here and swim right through the cave.
At high tide the cave fills with water -- an uncomfortable place to live, even for a wizard.
More than anyone else, perhaps, Richard, earl of Cromwell, is the man responsible for what remains of Tintagel Castle.
Richard was the younger brother of King Henry III. He acquired the land here in the late 1220s and started building a castle about 1232 -- for political gain.
"He was a very ambitious person and hoped to become Holy Roman Emperor," Lawley said. "He wanted to impress his peers that he was worthy of such a position."
By the 13th century Tintagel had already been linked to Arthur, and Richard used the link for all its worth.
"The castle was built for no military reasons at all," Lawley said. "It was pure political folly, to prove his worth."
Tintagel was built in an antiquated style. For example, it had square towers instead of the round ones sported by "modern" castles of the time. Richard wanted to further the Arthurian image and make it appear that Tintagel was a much older fortress than it really was.
It's doubtful that Tintagel was ever fully occupied during Richard's lifetime, Lawley said. He had at least two other castles. But it's from his time that the most ruins remain, especially in the often-photographed Island Courtyard, where an arched doorway remains and battlemented walls still suggest a fortress.
By the next century the castle had fallen into disrepair. In the 15th century it became a prison. And by the 1850s it was already becoming a tourist site.
Today, the castle is under control of English Heritage.
"We are conserving it for future generations," Lawley said. Its owner is Prince Charles, the current duke of Cornwall.
Whether its history is accurate or not, the village of Tintagel has embraced the Arthurian tale. And why not? The castle was expected to draw 200,000 visitors last year. Its drawing power on a place of 1,500 residents can't be denied.
On both sides of Fore Street, the town's only real commercial artery, are businesses such as XIV Century Gift Shop ("Cornish Fudge, 24 flavors"), King Arthur's Arms hotel, Dragon's Breath, Merlin's Gifts, Pendragon Gifts and King Arthur's Bookshop. Small restaurants and bed-and-breakfast inns crowd both sides of the narrow street.
This tiny town's biggest nod to money-making tourism has to be King Arthur's Great Halls: "the only buildings in the world dedicated to the ideals and legend of King Arthur."
Behind these stone walls, history gets left behind quickly and the Round Table and romance of chivalry take over. No artifacts here -- they're props. The spirit of Arthur, not the history, is on parade in room after room. Sure, it's a little hokey, but, hey, if you don't believe in King Arthur, what are you doing in Tintagel?
Frederick Thomas Glassock, who made a fortune in the custard industry, established the first of these grand halls in the 1920s. If it's a Disneyesque experience you're looking for, he did a fine job.
In Glassock's Great Hall, a massive granite throne stands beneath high ceilings and stained-glass windows. Want to feel like a king? Go ahead, have a seat! Naturally, there's a round table, granite again, with 13 places marked for Arthur and his knights: "Here ought to sit Sir Gawaine . . ." Windows along each wall honor virtues such as loyalty, faith, humility and perseverance.
If the village of Tintagel is a place for believers, Glassock was right at home. Besides the Halls, he established the Fellowship of the Knights of the Round Table of King Arthur, an organization that boasted more than 17,000 members in the 1930s. After being reorganized in 1993, it now claims more than 250 members worldwide.
It's a little easier to become part of the Round Table now than it was in King Arthur's day -- get your membership form on the way out. But who doesn't want to be one of King Arthur's knights? I'm hanging onto my application.
If Tintagel is the beginning of Arthur's story, Slaughterbridge marks the end. It's just a little harder to find.
Slaughterbridge, about 20 minutes from Tintagel, is a place of only seven houses, said Joe Parsons, whose family for generations has owned the land on the River Camel where Arthur and his son, Mordred, are said to have died in battle with each other.
Ancient weapons of war, including a battle ax, a spear and a spur, were found here, according to the The Royal Cornwall Gazette in 1850.
Last summer Parsons opened the Camlann Battlefield Centre, hoping to capitalize on the site. He has a vision -- tour buses that would stop at various sites in western England. But so far he has just a gravel path, a few signs and a couple of small stucco buildings where the story of Slaughterbridge is told: "Arthur . . . started in all haste on his march to Cornwall . . . as far as the River Camel, where Mordred was awaiting his arrival," wrote Geoffrey of Monmouth.
There were no signs of war one drizzly morning last fall as I wandered alone past the grassy battlefield. No ghostly sounds of clanging armor, only the sounds of the river burbling below and a strange buzz from huge power lines above.
In fact, there's only one thing of much significance to see here: Down below the path at river's edge lies a 9-foot stone, and by all accounts it has been in the same spot for centuries -- maybe even since the sixth century.
It's the significance of the Latin inscription that draws people like me to this place. One translation, according to Tintagel expert Charles Thomas of Exeter University, is, "Here lies Latin, the son of Arthur the Great." Other translations differ.
Alfred Lord Tennyson was so inspired by this place when he visited in 1848 that he wrote his epic poem "Idylls of the King."
And maybe that's what this place, like Tintagel, really is -- a place to be inspired by the idea of King Arthur. Nobody can prove King Arthur died here or on any other legendary battlefield.
I didn't care. I still don't. This is a place for believers.