Master of Camelot Charles A. Coulombe remembers Arthurian historian Geoffrey Ashe

From his own apparent time in the 500s AD, no single character has occupied as great a place in the British – indeed, the European –imagination, as King Arthur. Of all those who tried to make sense of the various versions of the Arthurian legend, few achieved as much acceptance of their theories and personal renown doing so as Geoffrey Ashe (1923-2022). Unlike most of the great figures I’ve had the pleasure of describing in these pages, I actually met Mr Ashe, and the manner of that meeting will serve as a fine introduction to the man himself as not only an historian but a Catholic writer.

In May of 2020, an article of mine appeared in the Catholic Herald entitled Past and Present. It was a brief summary of Glastonbury’s spiritual history, from the old legends of St. Joseph of Arimathea, the Holy Grail, and King Arthur, to the Medieval Abbey and its suppression, Glastonbury’s long post-Protestant sleep, and then its revival as a religious centre in the late 19th and early 20th centuries thanks to the proto-New Age Avalonians. I concluded with the return of the Benedictines, who at the time had recently taken charge of the Catholic Shrine in the centre of the town, and were offering the Tridentine Mass. I pointed out that despite the Avalonians’ many differences from one another, this eclectic collection of mystics, occultists, and visionaries were responsible for lifting the town from obscurity and placing it in its current position. In the number of this tribe I placed Geoffrey Ashe, not least because his biography inevitably mentioned he lived at the foot of Glastonbury Tor.

He responded to the article in a letter published by the Herald the following October: “Congratulations to Charles Coulombe on his fine article on Glastonbury, and especially for his update on recent developments such as the new Benedictine community. My first book, King Arthur’s Avalon, concluded with a quote from Austin Ringwode, the last surviving monk of Glastonbury Abbey: ‘The Abbey will one day be restored and rebuilt for the like worship which has ceased, and peace and plenty will for a long time abound.’ I believe that the new community is beginning to fulfil this prophecy.

“I am glad Mr Coulombe included a few words about the neo-mystics, who have caused confusion over the years. But I must make a humble protest at being included among them myself.

“I never was. My Avalonian writings have been before the public for a long time. The original inspiration came from a passage in the works of GK Chesterton, a very great Catholic. I was, and remain, within the fold.”

My letter in response expressed my glee at being so very wrong about his state. It elicited an invitation to visit him and his wife, which the exigencies of Covid prevented me from accepting for two years. By the time I arrived there on a visit, the Benedictines had been driven out. This was a terrible blow to the elderly writer and his American wife, Patricia. We commiserated on this loss, and on the liturgical state of the Church in general. But we spoke about much more in history and literature, and the original single hour scheduled passed quickly into two. I took my leave, with assurances from the couple that I was welcome back any time. Alas, Geoffrey died a few months later, and Patricia left a couple months after that for her native land. But those two hours fixed forever in my mind the picture of a deep and thoroughly Catholic thinker. This was not an obvious future for the young child born on 29 March 1923 in London to Arthur William and Thelma Ashe. Arthur was general manager of Poly Tours, and took his family with him frequently to Europe and around the British Isles visiting hotels used by the agency. Geoffrey was educated at St Paul’s School in London, G.K. Chesterton’s alma mater. Attending years after GKC, Ashe then knew nothing about him, but noticed his name on a plaque in the entrance hall, listing famous alumni. His mother introduced him to Gilbert and Sullivan’s Operettas, the Sherlock Holmes stories, and finally Chesterton’s Father Brown series –and revealed that she had once seen the author himself in a restaurant. When he was 16, Geoffrey’s parents took him to Canada. He graduated with a degree in English and Classics at the University of British Columbia in 1943. He returned to England in 1946 with his Canadian wife, Dorothy

Train, and went on to attain a Tripos in English at Cambridge in 1948 - during this period converting to Catholicism. Dorothy would bear him two sons in Great Britain. They returned to Canada where Geoffrey took up a job as administrative assistant at Ford of Canada.

In a Toronto Library he picked up a copy of GKC’s Short History of England, whose brief account of Glastonbury and Arthur captured Ashe’s imagination. He went on to read Chesterton’s friend Christopher Hollis’ Glastonbury and England. As early as 1949, he began writing for the Catholic press, but his Catholicism was not just academic; in 1954 he became a tertiary of the Carmelite priory at Aylesford in Kent, after the family returned to Great Britain. Two years later, in the Jesuit journal, The Month, he contributed his first article to the literature of Arthuriana; his continued work in the area appeared in 1957 as King Arthur's Avalon: The Story of Glastonbury. His first book was a great success, and so was followed up in 1960 with From Caesar to Arthur.

At this point, Ashe’s thesis was rather revolutionary; that while the Arthurian Legend as we have received it in its late Medieval version is not historically accurate, any long-lived body of legend has to have some sort of authentic historical background. To the best of his estimation, the “authentic” Arthur would have been a post-Roman leader of the Britons against their various seaborne enemies. Ashe’s scholarly acumen, gripping style, and open-mindedness combined with a strong critical sense attracted a large audience who appreciated neither curt dismissal of Arthuriana nor fiction presented as fact.

This led him to the attention of many serious Arthurian researchers and archaeologists, with whom he teamed up to form the Camelot Research Committee. Relying on local legends that identified Somerset’s Cadbury Castle with Camelot, for eight years, starting in 1960, Dr Ralegh Radford directed the excavations there. What they found was astonishing: a well-fortified settlement unlike any other known at the time, which had been built for some great chief at the time period legend assigned to Arthur.

Was this definitely King Arthur’s Camelot? Geoffrey could only admit it seemed like it – and so recommended it as the location for the famous city when the makers of the film, Camelot, asked him where it had been. He would boast that the site seen briefly on a map in the film was his “sole contribution to Hollywood”.

In 1962 he wrote a book using the same methodology on St Brendan’s storied visit to America. Indeed, only a third or so of his 35 published works deal with King Arthur, although that is certainly what he is best known for. He met a great many luminaries, including J.R.R. Tolkien. In the 1970s, although not possessing a doctorate, he had several visiting professorships at American universities. Although this was not originally his intention, he and his wife would move to Glastonbury in 1974, and she herself entered the Faith at last. Ashe continued to explore a wide variety of topics, including miracles. Among other activities, he studied the Shroud of Turin; convinced of its authenticity after making several experiments, he joined the International Sindonological Committee.

In 1991, Dorothy died. Geoffrey continued his teaching and touring, in the course of which he met Patricia Chandler, a professor of English at the University of North Alabama. In 1998, they married and settled down at Glastonbury. Six years later, Ashe became an Oblate of Downside Abbey, sealing his love of the Benedictines which his years of study of the Abbey had spurred. The discovery of a fifth century settlement at Tintagel – legendary birthplace of Arthur –certainly affirmed his methodology. In 2012, he was honoured by HM The Queen with an MBE “For Services to Heritage”. Three years later Ashe was unanimously named an Honorary Freeman of Glastonbury by the Glastonbury Town Council “in recognition of his eminent services to the place as an author and cultural historian.” In 2019, he was overjoyed by the erection of the Benedictine Community of Our Lady of Glastonbury, which, as mentioned, took charge of the Catholic Shrine. For the while they offered it, Geoffrey and his wife were constant attendees at the

Tridentine Mass offered thereat. As he wrote to the Catholic Herald, he felt that it might well be the beginning of the fulfilment of the ancient prophecy (prophecy in general being a topic about which he had also written two books).

Alas, Traditionis Custodes dropped like nuclear fallout from the Heavens. In July of 2021 the Mass at Glastonbury shut down. The two monks left for the friendlier clime of Chavagnes, France, where they serve as chaplains to the students of the Catholic school there, and continue the Mass. We all hope they may return one day.

Geoffrey died peacefully in his sleep on January 30, 2022. It was perhaps a fitting date – both Charles I and Bonnie Prince Charlie had died on that day. Arthur remained a figure central to Stuart propaganda. Stuart iconography celebrated the habits and beliefs of the ancient Britons. In particular, the Royal Oak, still a central symbol of the dynasty, was closely related to ideas about Celtic fertility ritual, and the King's power as an agent of renewal: ‘The oak, the largest and strongest tree in the North, was venerated by the Celts as a symbol of the supreme power.’ It was thus fitting that an oak should protect Charles II from the Cromwellian troops who wished to strip the sacred new Arthur of his status. This was precisely the sort of confluence between history and folklore that Geoffrey loved.

Geoffrey’s Requiem was held at the Shrine of Our Lady of Glastonbury and offered by Canon Alan Finley and Bishop Crispian Hollis. Following the Mass, a procession wound up Magdalene Street and the High Street, culminating in a reception at Glastonbury Town Hall. The following day, he was cremated. His widow brought his remains with her back to America, where on October 7, 2023, they were entombed at the Columbarium of the Benedictine Abbey of St. Bernard, in Cullman, Alabama. We must pray that at some future time the Benedictines and the Traditional worship of the Church will be restored to the currently ruined Abbey at Glastonbury.