Salutor

Letocetum (or Wall as it is now called) nestles beside the small village of Wall on Watling Street in Lichfield. The fact that it sits on Watling Street says it all really. Even though it seems to be plonked down in the middle of nowhere, just a few yards from the thrum of the A5 and M6, originally this was a key point along a major trading route. It served as a resting point on this vital route, which stretched from the Kentish coast to North Wales. Today you can see the footings for the Mansio (a staging post, designed for officials to rest on their journey) and the Bath House.

When I arrived in early December the museum itself was closed, so all I could do was wander around the ruins, but that in itself was the main reason to be there. The weather was dry and cold and the light perfect for such a tranquil spot. There were a team of gardeners there when I looked around, so it was a bit of a challenge to get photos without a fluorescent jacket or tractor. Other than that, the place was deserted. It is hard when you come to sites like this to get a true idea of what the place looked like, there are only the footings there now, as is true in virtually all places where the Romans left a fingerprint, but the place does feel special. I think the road, a plumb straight line through the ruins adds to it and it is easy to picture it as an area of activity. It was also my first time visiting a Mansio and the size of it was pretty remarkable.

But one of my favourite parts was the Bath House. Not only was it easy to see the caldarium, frigidarium and plunge pool etc. but the pilae stacks were in great condition, along with the furnace, and here, again, there was a sense of a living memory rather than a pile of stones.

It would have been nice to visit the museum and see some of the artefacts that have been found here, but it was closed for the season. This just means that, like York, I have an excuse to come back.

The villa itself is in a park run by the Parks Trust that does a frankly amazing job at maintaining the huge amount of green spaces in and around Milton Keynes. It sits on a raised ridge overlooking the parkland, with sweeping paths that spread out around the park and even though I have visited this site on several occasions, it is always a pleasure to come back.

There is not a lot to see and what you do see is in fact a layout of the actual site that was re-covered in order to protect the site. Instead you have small footings that represent the layout of the villa. I only found this out recently and have spent several visits looking and telling myself “well, of course, these are the foundations, the building would have been a few feet above these ancient stones” unaware that these ancient stones were placed down all the way back in the 1980s. But it is also a relief as, the last time we came, some people had decided that the stones needed a bit of moving, and smashing, and scattering. Bless.

The villa itself wasn’t completed until the 4th Century AD and it seems to have been an extremely impressive building, especially considering the dearth of other buildings found in the area. Milton Keynes is only a few miles out from the old Roman town of Lactodurum and is pretty close to Watling Street, but it still appears a remote place for such a fine building. It is generally held that the survival of buildings in the area was dependent on the quality of the farm land in the area. The site was originally a farm house and it suggests that the land remained in good condition through to the 4th Century – well enough to justify the building of such a villa. Obviously there is little to be seen at the site now, instead you can stand in the stone floorplan and imagine.

Unfortunately, on this visit, the car park was closed for building work and there was a queue to get in. This meant dumping the car on a side road that had limited parking times, all of which meant this became a real flying visit. Luckily the £7.50 entrance lasts for a whole year so I hope to return when I have more time and visit for more than 30 minutes.

What Roger says:

The stretch ends at the west corner of the 50-acre fortress, known as the Multangular Tower and one of the best-preserved Roman structures in Britain. Parts of the exterior have been patched with later material, but the join between the Roman work and the top 11 feet of medieval masonry is obvious. Before going inside the walls it is convenient to visit the archaeological Museum which lies in the gardens nearby. This collection is one of the richest in the country, and it must be hoped that a new building can be raised soon to give the material the presentation it deserves.

From what I can guess the museum has had the building work that Roger wished for as the whole building looked fresh and clean; and the layout certainly seemed modern in design. The grounds, including the ruined St. Mary’s Abbey, add to the whole ambience, and I could easily imagine spending a Spring or Summer day just milling around the grounds. The Multangular Tower still dominates the grounds and, as Roger suggests, the masonry changes are easy to see.

Within the Museum itself the first thing that strikes you is the statue of the god Mars who holds a dominant position just inside the entrance to the rooms which includes videos of ‘characters’ that would have been alive when Ebacorum was at its height.

Obviously I am not going to list everything that you can see in the museum; for one thing I didn’t see it all, and for another it would make this long and dull(er). But there are some amazing pieces in this great museum. One find that I didn’t photograph, but that stayed with me, was the recovered skeleton of a gladiator who, besides many injuries evident in the bone scars, appeared to have had his jaw almost severed from his head in one horrific blow. Another find that Roger mentions (though in his time it was stored in the then rather dilapidated Hospitium) is the hair of a young woman that stayed virtually intact thanks to the lead in the coffin that produced a hermetic seal. It was found under York station during work in 1875; the colour and pins make it quite a moving object.

This book triggered a desire in me to explore the areas I visit, through my job, with a Roman focus. Not long after finishing the book I was in Carlisle for a meeting. Sometimes, when I am exceedingly lucky, the meeting will be in the morning and, if I have another event the next day, the day can end up my own. In Carlisle just such a thing happened. As soon as I had finished the meeting I jumped in the car and headed for my pre-planned rendezvous.

Birdoswald Fort or, to give it its original name, Banna is set into Hadrian’s Wall, about 30 minutes from Carlisle centre along the Roman road known as the Maiden Way. Being an English Heritage site it does cost to visit, but I am one of those people who am happy to pay as I believe these places of historical interest stand more chance of survival this way. It is also important as it is one of the best preserved forts along the wall.

As you can see from the photo above, there is not much left to see of the site itself. The whole fort is really now nothing more than a stone scratch on the surface of the soil, reminding me of the transience of even the greatest of empires. But you still get a sense of scale, of the sheer power of the state that decided to build this, only to abandon the whole project a few centuries later. For one thing is the view. If you head to the far right corner of the fort, you can see why this was a strategic position. It also helps explain the name Banna which is Latin for “spur”

There is a sheer drop down to the River Irthing as this escarpment climbs and stretches, looming over the surrounding countryside. If anything, getting here from the ‘conquered’ South would have been more of a challenge than from the North. But then this would chime with the idea that the wall was more about controlling trade and the movement of tribes than it was to do with keeping tribes such as the Novantae out. You also get a sense of the remoteness that the Roman auxiliary must have felt when posted here. Even in this age of constant contact, there is a real sense of isolation at the site. I can easily see how a soldier would have felt he was at the edge of the world at this point.

I sometimes find it hard to imagine sites like this as places where people lived. There is very little to see or identify with and requires imagination alone to project the huge walls and roofs of the training ground, stores etc. For me it is things like the grooved stone where the gates opened and closed that help.