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The effects were described by the 6th century British
historian Gildas, in a passage that few have understood until now:
``The fire of righteous vengeance, kindled by the
sins of the past, blazed from sea to sea. Once lit, it did not die down.
When it had wasted town and country, it burned up the whole surface of
the island until its red and savage tongue licked the western ocean. All
the greater towns fell down. Horrible it was to see the foundations of
towers and high walls thrown down bottom upwards in the squares, mixing
with holy altars and fragments of human bodies.''
But why the fantastic stories that make Arthur's
period sound like the madder sort of computer game? It must have been
simply a question of money. Chroniclers, the freelance journalists of
the time, could not get hold of the hard facts on which they normally
relied for a living. Communications had totally broken down. And so they
simply fabricated, inventing any story they might get paid for.
It had happened before. The Mycenean Civilisation,
the great commercial and military empire that produced Homer and Theseus,
collapsed swiftly and mysteriously in about 900 BC. Conventional
historians, seeking a political or social explanation, have never
understood why. But to Solon, the statesman and scholar of a later age,
the matter could not have been clearer:
``The truth behind it is a deviation of the bodies
that revolve in heaven round earth, and destruction of things on earth
by a great conflagration. The torrents of heaven swept down like a
pestilence. You do not know that the noblest and bravest race in the
world once lived in your country. From a small remnant of their seed,
you and all your fellow-citizens are derived. But you know nothing of it
because the survivors of many generations died leaving no word in
writing.''
Whether Solon was describing a comet or an asteroid
there is no way of knowing—especially since he couldn't have known the
difference. But the inference of his and Gildas's testimony is plain.
Parts of our history are periodically blotted out, with sometimes whole
civilisations being eradicated, by impacts of debris from the sky. And
this peril will continue until space engineers find a way of preventing
it.
Perhaps a more subtle danger is the narrow-minded
scepticism of many academics and politicians. As President Jefferson
said in 1807: ``I would rather believe that Yankee professors lie than
that stones fall from heaven.''
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