Prince Caspian and Sir Guyon - the virtue of Temperance

 

O! pardon, and vouchsafe with patient ear

The brave adventures of this Faery knight,

The good Sir Guyon, graciously to hear;

In whom great rule of Temp'rance goodly doth appear.

     Book 2 of the Faerie Queen is the story of Sir Guyon, the Elvin knight sent by the Faerie Queen to assist the Palmer in his mission to destroy the enchantress Acrasia and her Bower of Bliss. The Palmer is an elderly man, and in the poem he represents pure Reason. We are not told Guyon's age, but he is younger than the Palmer, and seems to be a peer of Red Cross knight, who at the beginning of his story is untried. As we follow Guyon, we don't see him doing a lot. Two of the biggest battles are actually fought by Arthur, not Guyon. This is because the virtue of temperance is one of moderation and control, not primarily action, although, as we see at the end of Book 2, action is sometimes required in order to preserve Temperance. 

The virtue of Temperance

    Most modern folk have a misunderstanding of temperance, thanks in large part to the role of the Women's Christian Temperance Union during the American prohibition (see the definition here). Temperance is not abstinence from alcohol; it is not abstinence at all, per se. Classically, temperance was understood as the virtue that dealt with the physical appetites of man: hunger, thirst, sexual desire, etc. These appetites are not bad in themselves. We must eat and drink to live. We must have sex to reproduce. When properly controlled, these strivings serve us well, but they rule as tyrants when they become masters.

    A virtue is a mean, or the middle point, between two extremes. In thinking about the extremes of this particular virtue, it seems that Indulgence could be on both sides. On the excess side, you would have Drunkenness, Gluttony, Lust. On the deficient side, you would have Sloth and Insensibility. In Book 2 of the Faerie Queene, we see these vices in multiple forms.

One more note about temperance before I compare Lewis's 2nd Narnian Chronicle with Spenser's account of Guyon: Temperance is not passionlessness, or stoicism. Rather, it is feeling rightly. In Canto 1 of Book 2, Guyon hears the enchantress Duessa tell the (false) story of her rape by Red Cross knight. He is furious, and rightly so. However, he lets that rage and anger control him and drive him to attack Red Cross with no warning, which is not the proper behavior of a knight, and of which Guyon soon repents. Throughout the story, and especially near the end, Guyon is guided completely by the Palmer, or Reason, and learns to turn from his base desires or at least to not let those desires rule him or decide his action. He chooses to be ruled by the Palmer, by Reason. This does not mean Guyon has no passions, or that the passions he has are bad, or that he should be mild and calm all the time - the end of Book 2 shows that Guyon feels deeply and acts in apparently extreme ways when it is called for, and only when it is called for. These actions, though extreme, are right and appropriate when guided by reason, truth, and self-moderation. In fact, in one paper I read, it was apparently the practice in Spenser's day to burn the overly moist land as a way to bring the humors of the soil back into balance. This would seem to imply that when Guyon burns Acrasia's land, he does so not only to destroy the Bower of Bliss which had drawn so many knights into sin and ruin, but to reclaim and renew the land itself as a good husbandman ought to do. Guyon's actions at the end of Book 2 are right and necessary for the sake of both his fellow man and the creation itself. It is a picture of not only judgement and correction, but also redemption and restoration through fire.

A word about the word, "temperance"

The word 'temperance' itself comes from the root word 'temper,' which is both a noun and a verb. This entry from etymonline.com explains in brief the word's history. As you can see, it does not carry the idea of abstinence; rather it is all things measured and in right mixture. 

    

temper (v.)
late Old English temprian "to moderate, bring to a proper or suitable state, to modify some excessive quality, to restrain within due limits," from Latin temperare "observe proper measure, be moderate, restrain oneself," also transitive, "mix correctly, mix in due proportion; regulate, rule, govern, manage." This is often described as from Latin tempus "time, season" (see temporal), with a sense of "proper time or season." But as the root sense of tempus seems to be "stretch," the words in the "restrain, modify" sense might be from a semantic shift from "stretching" to "measuring" (compare temple (n.1)). Meaning "to make (steel) hard and elastic" is from late 14c. Sense of "tune the pitch of a musical instrument" is recorded from c. 1300. Related: Tempered; tempering.

temper (n.)
late 14c., "due proportion of elements or qualities," from temper (v.). The sense of "characteristic state of mind, inclination, disposition" is first recorded 1590s; that of "calm state of mind, tranquility" in c. 1600; and that of "angry state of mind" (for bad temper) in 1828. Meaning "degree of hardness and resiliency in steel" is from late 15c.

Prince Caspian and Guyon

   I wish to state here that I do not think that Lewis is writing exclusively of one virtue in each book - I don't think it is possible to write of one virtue without the others coming into view; they are members of a body, not individual units - or that he is writing a new and improved version of Sir Guyon. I am trying to see if there is any merit to my theory that Lewis's mind, so saturated with Spenser's story, perhaps made allusions in each of his Narnian tales, not only to The Faerie Queen in part, but specifically to the corresponding book in Spenser's epic Romance, and maybe unintentionally modeled his seven fairy tale Chronicles on the seven books of The Faerie Queen. At any point I know I could be proven wrong, or my connections could become thin and tenuous. If such occurs, I will admit defeat.
   

Doctor Cornelius and Prince Caspian

    As I read through Book 2 of The Faerie Queene, I was surprised and delighted to find several crossovers with Prince Caspian, in both events and characters. I think the overall manner of the story, too, supports the idea that when he was writing it, Lewis could have had Book 2 in mind. By "overall manner" I mean that if you read Prince Caspian, you might notice that nearly the entire first half of the book (seven chapters out of 15) is an introduction by proxy to the title character and much of the action of the story is done by other characters and takes place away from the Prince. The temperate hero, as Graham Hough writes in A Preface to the Faerie Queene, is "a colourless hero." Why? Because "there is a difficulty about Temperance...; since it is a virtue that consists chiefly of not doing things the liveliness of action and imagery must occur chiefly among its opponents." I think a retelling of the story will help to show what I mean. (I will italicize the correlations with FQ Bk II so that they stand out.)

    Throughout Lewis's story, Caspian is under almost constant guidance from his early youth until the end of the book, just as Sir Guyon is nearly always guided by the Palmer in FQ, Book II. When we first meet the Prince, he is quite a young boy and we find out that his father and mother are both dead. 

(This could be an echo of Ruddymane in Bk II, the orphaned babe whom Sir Guyon rescues from the mother's dying hands, and who Sir Guyon gives to Medina, 
                                "unto her truth
Did earnestly commit, and her conjure 
In virtuous lore to train his tender youth..." 
in the hope that when the baby comes of age he will,  
"avenge his parent's death on them that had it wrought.") 

He is under the guardianship of his uncle, Miraz, and cared for by an old nurse who loves him and tells him stories of Old Narnia. Caspian loves these stories and believes in them without question. When his uncle finds out what the old nurse has been telling the Prince, she is promptly removed and a Tutor is placed in charge of the Prince's education, an old man named Doctor Cornelius. (Notice that one guide or instructor is exchanged for another. This happens throughout the book.) As a youth, Caspian appears to have no desire for the throne and no curiosity about why his uncle is king and not he himself. Even when he begins his education proper, we are not told that he has any clue as to the reality of the situation. The Prince is finally told the truth by his Tutor on the night his aunt the queen gives birth to a son: that Caspian is the true king of Narnia, and that Miraz has not only stolen the throne and murdered Caspian's father, but will not hesitate to murder his nephew as well. It is interesting to note that Caspian does not feel rage or anger in this moment of the story, nor does he battle a growing desire for vengeance as the story progresses; rather we are told that after hearing what Doctor Cornelius had to say, "Caspian felt very queer and said nothing." Not the typical response for a hero who discovers that the man who has raised him is a liar and a murderer and a usurper. Also, Caspian never seeks retribution from his uncle but only what is his by right. If he struggles with vengeful feelings or anything like that, we are never told. 

    Doctor Cornelius sends the Prince out of the castle to flee for his life and instructs him try to get across the Southern border of Narnia and into Archenland. But instead, Caspian gets lost in the wilds of the South, looses his horse (just as Guyon does in Canto II, stanza XI), and meets real live Narnians. He is taken in by three Narnians: two dwarves and a badger, just as Guyon was taken in by Medina and her two sisters in Canto XII. These three Narnians are Trumpkin, a red dwarf and a cheerful agnostic; Nikabrik, a black dwarf and a militant zealot; and Trufflehunter the Badger, a steady, calm Narnian who is faithful to Aslan above all else. It is his cave that Caspian is brought into to recover from his fall, and it is the Badger who first declares allegience to Caspian. This is very similar to the House of the Golden Mean, where Sir Guyon and the Palmer go after finding the baby Ruddymane. Medina is the middle sister of three, and she is the voice of reason and temperance. Her older sister, Elissa, takes everything too seriously and never shows pleasure: 

"But with ben low'ring brows, as she would threat, 

She scowl'd, and frown'd, with froward countenance..."

Sounds an awful lot like Nikabrik to me. The other sister is Perissa and she is quite different: 

"still laughing, loosely light,

And quite contrary to her sister's kind;

No measure in her mood, no rule of right..." 

Trumpkin has, I think, an internal rule of right, but he laughs at that which ought not be laughed at, and he takes lightly much that ought to be taken seriously. He grows and matures throughout the book, and almost right away we like him, in part because cheerful characters are easier to like, but also because he is able to grow and change for the better. He may be wrong in his cheerful mockery of the solemn and good, but "his heart is in the right place," as we say.

These three Narnians take him to other Narnians (notice again, Caspian is being guided) and introduce him to other Narnians until there is quite a crowd. At this point, he is asked by Glenstorm the centaur when the battle against his usurping uncle is to begin, which startles Caspian and the other Narnians. They ask Glenstorm if the time is ripe for a war (Caspian is guided again) and he tells them it is. The Narnians all agree that "they must wage [a war]," regardless of the outcome.

    In chapter VII we have an interesting description of the changes that Caspian is experiencing:

To sleep under the stars, to drink nothing but well water and to live chiefly on nuts and wild fruit, was a strange experience for Caspian after his bed with silken sheets in a tapestried chamber at the Castle, with meals laid out on gold and silver dshes in the ante-room, and attendants ready at hiss call. But he had never enjoyed himself more. Never had his sleep been more refreshing nor food tasted more savoury, and he began already to harden and his face wore a kinglier look. 

 Here we have a direct reference to the idea of tempering; Caspian is being forged into a king of Narnia. Right after this, Caspian reunited with his beloved Tutor, Doctor Cornelius. In Book II, Guyon and the Palmer are also separated for a time in Canto VI and reunited in Canto VIII. This reunion of Caspian and his Tutor is thanks to the tracks left by the dwarves in the wood and comes on the eve of a battle. In TFQ, the Palmer also is led on to Guyon, though by angelic voices and not footprints of dwarves. He finds the knight lying unconscious and defenseless after his three days of temptation in the caves of Mammon. Just as Doctor Cornelius finds Caspian on the eve of a battle, so too does the Palmer; he finds his knight just before two of Guyon's enemies, assuming he is dead, decide to desecrate his body and take his armor - until Prince Arthur arrives to save the day. Then follows a scene where the beginnings of Caspian's council (Trumpkin, Nikabrik, Trufflehunter, and most especially Doctor Cornelius) give him advice and direct him where to go and what to do. The Doctor's advice is taken (Trufflehunter says, "It is a good thing we have a learned man among us.") and they head to Aslan's How. (I think this is a beautiful image of the biblical idea of taking shelter in Jesus in times of trial. "The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run into it and they are safe." Aslan's How is the hill built up around the Stone Table, where Aslan laid down his good and perfect life for the life of a traitor.)

    The battle commences and before long, it goes very badly. It is a battle that Caspian and the Narnians simply cannot win on their own. Caspian is directed by Doctor Cornelius to blow the magic horn left by Queen Susan, and to send out ambassadors to three especially magical places in Narnia so that they may meet whatever help may come with as little delay as possible. Caspian does as his tutor advises, help does come, and just in time, in the form of the four Pevensie children. Peter, the eldest of the four and the High King, (and the most Arthurian of the four children as he is surnamed "the Magnificent." Spenser writes in his letter to Sir Walter Raleigh, "So in the person of Prince Arthur I set forth Magnificence...for that...is the perfection of all the [virtues] and containeth in it them all...") councils Caspian to allow him (Peter) to fight Miraz in single combat just as Prince Arthur fights for Guyon's life in Canto VIII, stanza XXVI. There is an interesting similarity here in that Guyon has just emerged from a cave of temptation, and Caspian is found by Peter and Edmund and Trumpkin in a cave (Aslan's How) just after he has come through a temptation to gain his crown by dark magic. Peter fights alongside Caspian first, as Arthur fights alongside Guyon before the House of Temperance in Canto IX, after fighting for him. Lewis reverses the order in PC, but the two events are still back to back. 

    The Narnians are victorious, partly through the treachery of Miraz's men and partly through the Telmarines' fear of wood and water and animals: "They all hated and feared running water, just as much as they hated and feared woods and animals." (PC, Aslan Makes a Door in the Air). They are hemmed in by the Awakened Wood and trapped by the bridgeless River Beruna. Narnia has been awakened by Aslan, and these soldiers are unable to fight the forces of Nature embodied.

    The last two chapters of Prince Caspian and the final Canto of Guyon's book are similar in spirit if not in actual detail. In the definition of "temper" above, one meaning of the root word is, "to moderate, bring to a proper or suitable state, to modify some excessive quality, to restrain within due limits." We see in these final chapters people and places being tempered and modified.  

    In the Faerie Queene, Guyon makes his way to the Bower of Bliss, the home of the enchantress Acrasia, who he has sworn to aid the Palmer in defeating. As he makes his way deeper into the Bower of Bliss, he sees more and more manmade objects, until he finally reaches the center of the garden where there are things like carefully crafted metal ivy and other finely wrought pieces of art that imitate, and even occasionally out do, Nature. Guyon and the Palmer capture the enchantress and her bewitched, insensible knight, and Guyon destroys her garden of temptation with fire. As they are leaving, the Palmer transforms a group men whom Acrasia had bewitched into pigs back into men. 

    In chapter 11 of PC, Aslan awakens the trees with a roar and everyone begins dancing and making merry. At some point during the dance, Bacchus and his wild girls come in (this is an interesting article about the myth Lewis may have in mind here) and join the Romp. Bacchus and his crew will be an active part of setting Narnia to rights, perhaps because of the myth mentioned in the article above, but also I think because Bacchus represents . (Bacchus and Silenus are a curious parallel with Caspian and Doctor Cornelius.) When the river god asks Aslan to free him, Aslan commands Bacchus, "Deliver him from his chains." It is the "great strong trunks of ivy" (natural ivy, not metalic artistic ivy as in Canto XII of TFQ) that pull down the bridge of Beruna, releasing the river god from his enslavement. Then they head to the city and the first place they hit is the gir's school, "where a lot of Narnian girls, with their hair done very tight and ugly tight collars round their necks...were having a history lesson." One girl in the whole school can see Aslan and as she tries to tell her teacher, Bacchus' ivy "came curling in at the windows of the classroom," and when the teacher "clutches at her desk to steady herself," she finds that the desk has become a rose bush. In the next town, a young woman is "teaching arithmetic to a number of boys who looked very like pigs." These boys treat their teacher shamefully and when the boys finally see Bacchus, he turns those boys with "hoggish heart" into pigs. All through this scene, some are released to follow Aslan and others to follow their inclinations. Either way, the true person is seen and known.

Temperance and Sight

    The plot line of the four Pevensie children stumped me when I first began to compare Lewis's story with Spenser's. So much of their story is dedicated to their movements toward Caspian, and toward Aslan, that I couldn't quite see where Temperance comes into their story until I was rereading passages of the Faerie Queene in preperation for this post. In the very beginning of Book II, really before Book II even begins, Spenser writes his introductory "Proem." To quote this article: Proems, like introductions, prologues, and prefaces, are introduction material that readers encounter when they first start reading a literary work. For some, this sets the tone for the rest of the book/epic poem/novella. If Spenser is indeed setting the tone for us in Book II, then these lines from the middle of stanza III, the central stanza of the proem, could very well be the central theme in the story:

"Yet all these were, when no man did them know,  

Yet have from wisest ages hidden been;

And later times things more unknown shall show.

Why then should witless man so much misween,

That nothing is, but that which he hath seen?

What, if within the moon's fair shining sphere, 

What if in every other star unseen

Of other worlds he happily should hear?

He wonder would much more; yet such to some appear."

 

    Sight and seeing clearly, these are ideas, this is a theme, that comes up again and again with the Pevensie children and with Trumpkin. Indeed, all the main characters seem to have a moment where their eyes are opened and they see themselves and everyone else clearly (Reepicheep with his tail; Caspian and his sufficiency) but I believe this theme specifically is what connects the Pevensie storyline with Sir Guyon. 

    Once they understand why they have been called back to Narnia, the four children decide they must get back to Caspian, but Trumpkin doubts that they would really be able to do much at all to help the Old Narnians. Through a series of tests they reveal themselves to the dwarf and prove that they are worthy and able. Trumpkin is finally beginning to see things as they really are. He even says as much when they challenge him to an archery competition with Susan: "I begin to see. As if I didn't know how she can shoot..." But it isn't until Lucy heals Trumpkin's wound with her cordial that he truly believes what he sees and lets that knowledge humble him. Trumpkin's ability to see the children clearly is what prepares him to meet Aslan.

    The Theme of sight is even more obvious with Lucy in the next chapter, titled 'What Lucy Saw.' She sees Aslan as they are walking in the wood but she is the only one who does, and rather than believe Lucy, the older two children and Trumpkin decide to follow what they can see with their own eyes rather than trust the sight of the youngest among them.  It is interesting that Lucy means 'light' and that Lucy's role among the four children often is one of bringing light to a situation. Indeed, she was the one who showed them the way into Narnia in the first place. Yet Peter and Susan refuse to believe she might have actually seen Aslan simply because they didn't see him themselves. Edmund, however, believes her and I think it is because he tempers his doubt with faith and experience that he is the second one able to see Aslan in the next chapter, 'The Return of the Lion.' In the beginning of this chapter, the children and Trumpkin are all asleep, exhausted after climbing down a steep gorge and then having to climb all the way back up when they realized they had gone the wrong way after all. Lucy "woke out of the deepest sleep you could imagine, with the feeling that the voice she liked best in the world had been calling her name." She feels "wonderfully rested...extremely happy and comfortable. She was looking straight up at the Narnian moon, which is larger than ours, and at the starry sky..." She wakes to light, the light of heaven and the highest heaven. "The moon was so bright that the whole forest landscape around her was almost as clear as day, though it looked wilder." She is called awake from a deep sleep and is able to see Narnia clearly even in the dark. She hears clearly, too. She can hear Aslan call her again, and as she walks to him, she can see the trees dancing and hear the tune in their movements. Finally she makes it to Aslan, "shining white in the moonlight, with his huge black shadow underneath him." (The other children only see what they think is Aslan's shadow at first. I like the idea that Aslan's shadow is under him, actually and metaphorically. If he wants the children to see his only his shadow, that is what they will see. But Lucy sees him fully.) Lucy rushes to him and they begin to talk. As in every conversation a character has with Aslan, there is revelation of self or of a wrong done by the character that is hindering deeper fellowship between that character and Aslan, followed by humility and confession, and ending with full restoration, usually accompanied by a task. Lucy finally sees that she ought to have followed Aslan regardless of what the other children said, and that is what she must do now. The idea of waking her siblings and Trumpkin from a dead sleep with the news that she has again seen Aslan is hard for her to accept. But "Lucy buried her head in his mane to hide from his face. But there must have been magic in his man. She could feel lion-stregnth going into her. Quite suddenly she sat up.

"I'm sorry, Aslan," she said. "I'm ready now."

"Now you are a lioness," said Aslan. "And now all Narnia will be renewed."

    The four sleepers are awakened in chapter XI, 'The Lion Roars,' and eventually they agree to follow Lucy as she follows Aslan. One by one they are enabled to see the lion and they each have an interaction with Aslan of revelation, confession, and restoration. In Edmund's case, though, he is only praised: "Then he turned and welcomed Edmund. 'Well done,' were his words." This is such a sweet scene. Lewis has Aslan dealing with all the children with truth mixed with gentleness. The dwarf, however, he handles much more roughly, but Trumpkin has doubted and disbelieved for so long it probably takes being tossed about to convince him that what he was seeing was actually real.

    The theme of sight is intertwined with Miraz and the Telmarines, too. They are examples of determined blindness. The kings before Miraz and Miraz himself wanted to erase any possibility of the reality of the Old Narnians, and he and his people eventually believe their own lies. When they are finally forced to see that Old Narnia is alive and well, they are terrified and cry out, "The Wood! The Wood! The end of the world!"

    The Temperate man is the man who can see clearly and truly, and because of that can act rightly. Guyon in the dark of Mammon's cave saw all the temptations for what they actually were, not what Mammon wanted him to see. In the Bower of Bliss, Guyon does not stop to delight in the cultivated delicacies he is offered, but dashes them to the ground since he has seen clearly what happens to those who eat and drink the fruit of that place (Ruddymane's parents). There is one scene where Guyon does stop to watch two women in the nude, playing in the water. But when he is rebuked by the Palmer, he masters himself and continues on to finish his journey and set all to rights.

    In Prince Caspian, Narnia was asleep and insensible, as was the knight Verdant in the garden of Bliss in the final Canto of Book II. He is found with Acrasia and awakened when the Palmer throws his enchantress-catching net over the two lovers. I think the similarity between Narnia and Verdant ends with the idea of insensiblity. Narnia did not love her enslavers. But she had fallen asleep and needed waking. Even her rescuers, the four Pevensie children, have their own tempering and awakening to go through before they can aid Narnia. But the title character, Caspian, does not need waking, nor does he ever see himself incorrectly. In both of his interactions with Aslan in the final chapter of the book, he freely confesses himself:

"Welcome, Prince," said Aslan. "Do you feel yourself sufficient to take up the Kingship of Narnia?" 

"I -- I don't think I do, Sir," said Caspian. "I'm only a kid." 

"Good," said Aslan. "If you had felt yourself sufficient, it would have been a proof that you were not. Therefore, under us and under the High King, you shall be King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands. You and your heirs while your race lasts."

     Aslan, in a later part of the chapter, recounts to Caspian and to all the         Telmarines the true story of their origin (similar to Arthur and Guyon reading the lineage of the Kings of Britain and the Queen of Faerie Land in Canto X) and Caspian is appropriately humbled by the revelation that his forebears where pirates and drunks who had found a way into the Land of Telmar in the Narnian world through a cave on an island. 

 '"...In Telmar their descendants lived and became a fierce and proud people; and after many generations there was a famine in Telmar and they invaded Narnia, which was then in some disorder (but that also would be a long story) and conquered it and ruled it. Do you mark all this well, King Caspian?"

"I do indeed, Sire," Said Caspian. "I was wishing that I came of a more honourable lineage."
"You come of the the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve," said Aslan. "And that is both honour enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor in earth. Be content."

Caspian bowed.'

Temperance enables a person to understand their place in the hierarchy of life and to be content in it. Guyon, Caspian, and indeed all the Narnian characters who are on the side of Aslan, are enabled to fulfill the roles they are called to because they grow in (or in Guyon's case, embody) the virtue of moderation and self-regulation. Only the temperate person, the well-ordered and well-balanced person, can see themselves and others clearly and then act appropriately.  Temperance may make "a colourless hero," as Graham Hough says, but as we see in the stories of Prince Caspian and Sir Guyon, colourless does not mean inactive, insipid, or weak. Light itself is colourless, but by it we see all the colors clearly and rightly, and indeed, not colors only but the world around us and our way in it.

    

Other story crossovers:

• Water imagery in a main theme in both Book II and PC. In fact, both main characters are named for bodies of water: Guyon for one of the four rivers that flowed out of Eden, and Caspian for the sea.
• The Caspian sea is named twice in Book II: in Book II, Canto VII, stanza xiv, and in Canto XII, though I can't find the reference right now.
• In relation to the water imagery, Miraz is a name that has the sound "mirror" in it. He is the mirror of Caspian, not in the sense of reflecting what Caspian is, but in being the reverse.
• Miraz also sounds a bit like "mere ass," which is appropriate since he has some similarities to the character Braggadocchio in Book II.
• The 4 Pevensie children are connected with the idea of Arthur in PC. They return to Cair Paravel which has become an island (Avalon, Arthur's final resting place, was also an island), and on the island is a large orchard which the children remember having planted there before they returned to their world. "The Isle of Avalon" means "the isle of apple trees." In chapter 3, Edmund says, "And no we're comoing back to Narnia just as if we were Crusaders or Anglo Saxons or Ancient Britons or someone coming back to modern England!" Arthur was an Ancient Briton, and the legend is that he will return to England in its hour of greatest need.