Part 5

It is probable that most, or all, of the bastions from Tower Hill to Cripplegate were built in the same way as those just described, and there is evidence to suggest that the western bastions were also similar. In 1806 fragments of Roman monuments were found near Ludgate; “these may have come from a later Roman gate or from the adjoining bastion” (_V.C.H._). Allen says: “At the back of the London Coffee-house, Ludgate Hill, a circular tower and staircase was discovered; and about 3 ft. below the pavement some remains of Roman art were found.” An etching of the stones published by T. Fisher in 1807 describes them as “dug out of the foundations of the wall of the City, a few yards north of Ludgate.” Archer, speaking of an inscribed pedestal, says it was found “in extending the premises at the back of the London Coffee-house. It appeared in a bastion of the City Wall, and was built in with the masonry near some remains of a circular staircase” (_Illust. Family Jour._, _c._ 1850). Now, Horwood’s plan of 1799 shows the back of the Coffee-house adjoining the line of the old wall and extending a long way north—apparently much more than sufficient to overlap the bastion numbered 55 on Mr. Reader’s plan. The Post Office excavations recently made down Ludgate Hill show that the natural ground is here only about 10 ft. below the modern level.

The Camomile Street and All Hallows bastions were about 20 ft. wide and projected about 16 ft. In mediæval days the bastions rose above the parapet walk on the main wall, and each formed a round-ended chamber having loopholes. This is well shown on the Survey of Holy Trinity, Aldgate, 1592, which I published about 1900 in _Middlesex Notes and Queries_. (Several round-fronted bastions are planned as well as Aldgate itself.) The mediæval arrangement, I have no doubt, followed the Roman scheme. The openings in the original bastions would, we may suppose, have been wider than mediæval loops, and have had semicircular arches of brick over them. (See Viollet le Duc’s _Dictionary_, vol. i. p. 333.) The walls and bastions which still exist at Le Mans and Senlis more closely resemble those of Londinium than any others I have seen. At Le Mans a long portion fronting, but some way back from the river Sarthe, has three bastions 60 yds. to 70 yds. apart, round on the front about 20 ft. wide, and 15 in. or 16 in. projection. The curtain is about 30 ft. high, and the bastions rise higher—say, to 45 ft.; they rise sloping for some way from the ground (Fig. 36). The bastions at Senlis are very similar, but some of these have two storeys of large openings, three in each.

For a long time it was argued that the bastions of the Wall of London were mediæval; then very considerable difference of construction from the City Wall has been alleged. It has been said that their masonry was unlike the other, and that there were no tile bands. We only know with any certainty the lower parts of the bastions now recognised as Roman, and there is no reason for asserting that there were no tile bands in the upper parts. The bastion illustrated by Roach Smith from a sketch by Gough had bands of brick, but in the illustration this bastion appears as square, and this is unlikely (see _Archæol._ lxiii.). It is possible, however, that the form is a misreading of a rough sketch. This, I think, is more likely than the suggestion in _V.C.H._ that it was mediæval. An illustration of a round-fronted bastion near Falcon Square given by Thornbury (_Old and New London_), shows two bands of tile. This seems to be bastion 40 of _V.C.H._, which was about 40 ft. high; “in the upper part was a row of tile-brick, probably due to later patching.” There are also some other references to tiles in bastions, and on the whole I conclude that they probably had tile bands more or less like the wall. Both the bastion just mentioned and that of Gough’s sketch had openings below the upper storey, showing that in these bastions there were chambers below the level of the parapet. So there must have been at Le Mans (Fig. 36) and Senlis. Compare also V. le Duc’s _Dictionary_, vol. i. p. 333.

In an article on the City Walls in the _Journal of the London Society_ (November 1922), Dr. Norman says: “Last summer the remains of another bastion were laid bare not far from the west end of the Church of St. Anne and St. Agnes.” This was “the inner angle bastion” near Aldersgate.

It is not exactly known when the City was protected by walls. Stow says: “It seemeth not to have been walled in the year of our Lord 296, because in that year the Franks easily entered London.” He accepted the legend that “Helen, the mother of Constantine, first enwalled this City.” Camden held the same view, and has a note: “Coins of Helena often found under the walls.”

It is now agreed that the walls were built around a late and extended city, for rubbish pits and burials have been found within the walls. A belt of the former occupied the site of St. Paul’s and the Post Office. It was Roach Smith’s impression that the walls were probably built “after the recovery of the province by Constantine, or even later, when Theodosius restored the towns” (_Archæol. Jour._, 1844).

Mr. Lambert, from planning the find-spots of Roman coins, comes to the conclusion that the wall was not in its later position until the fourth century. The type of walling is especially characteristic of the fourth century. Haverfield has pointed out some earlier cases of the use of bonding tiles, but these seem to be exceptional. (See also what is said of Colchester in _J.R.S._, 1919.) Daremberg and Saglio give 309 as the date of the earliest wall of our kind in Rome. (They illustrate an example from Timgad, in North Africa, which closely resembles the wall of London.) I suggest that a point of evidence may be found in the Constantinian coin, which has a city gate or fortification for device, and the inscription PROVIDENTIAE CAESS, with the mint mark of London (Fig. 37). This device was not invented for London, but I cannot think that at such a time it could have been adopted if Londinium still remained an open city—it would have invited too obvious irony after what had happened in 296. This coin was issued between 320 and 324, and I suggest that it may be accepted as a record of the walling of the City, or, perhaps more probably, the beginning of the works. The coins of Helen mentioned by Camden were issued about this time. In the later half of the fourth-century London acquired the title of Augusta, and this change of style probably followed on the change of status of its having then been completely walled. (I find that Mr. Reg. Smith has already made this same suggestion in _V.C.H._) Sir Arthur Evans has recently called attention to a silver coin of Valentinian the Elder as having in an abbreviated form the monetary stamp of _Londinensis Augusta_. “A group of coins shows that the Mint at London, which had been closed since the time of Constantine, was restored by Valentinian in A.D. 368” (_Proceedings, S. A._, 1915, p. 105). I suggest that this is a probable date for the completion of the river wall. Several of the cities of Gaul were protected by walls at a still later time.

Many of the carved fragments found in the bastions can be little earlier than the year A.D. 300. The important monuments of which remnants have been found must have been destroyed when the long, wide strip required for the original wall and its ditch was cleared, for the bastions themselves did not go beyond this ground. It seems possible that the big stones were reserved for founding bastions; this is more likely than that distant monuments were destroyed to provide foundation stones.

“To put an end to incessant pillage the Gallo-Roman towns sacrificed their faubourgs, and, retrenching their extent, surrounded themselves with strong walls, which were very often supported on sculptured blocks taken from destroyed edifices. Le Mans, like the towns of Senlis, Tours, Autun, Bourges, Fréjus, etc., girded itself with ramparts flanked with round-fronted towers, of which important remains still exist, especially along the river Sarthe. The _enceinte_ of Le Mans enclosed an area about 500 by 200 metres” (A. Ledru, 1900).

_Gates._—The excavations of 1903 at the Old Bailey revealed some remnants of the Roman gate on the site of Newgate. The most significant of these was a portion of plinth on the City side, with a return at the south end. This, as shown in _Archæologia_, lix., by Dr. P. Norman, when linked up with earlier discoveries made in 1875, allowed of the recovery of the plan of the gate (Fig. 38). The plinth had been removed from its place before I saw it, but the stones were certainly shaped in Roman days; they had a chamfer 8 in. wide, with a square face of similar width below, and they had been strongly cramped together; one had a “return end,” and clearly came from a corner (A and B). A portion of the western plinth was discovered in 1909 (_Archæol._ lxiii.). The gate, with its towers on either side, had a frontage of about 96 ft.—probably 100 Roman feet, as a Roman foot was about 11·60 in. The space between the towers appears to have been about 35 ft., which is not more than sufficient for two large archways. The great gate at Colchester, which was about 107 ft. wide, had two carriage-ways 17 ft. wide, and two small side openings 6 ft. wide as well (see _J.R.S._, 1919). Enough of the walling was found in 1875 to show that the London gate was of stone bonded with tiles; it was erected on a thick platform of “clay and ragstone,” which raised the plinth about 5 ft. above the plinth of the adjoining City Wall. Fig. 39 is a restoration of the front.

Several years ago a mass of masonry with a face to the south was found under Bishopsgate Street a little within the line of the wall; underlying it was “puddling of flint and clay” over a wide area. It was suggested at the time (_Archæeol._ lx. p. 58) that this masonry and foundation might have belonged to Roman Bishopsgate, and the finding of what seems to have been a similar platform at Newgate strengthens the hypothesis. It had long ago been pointed out by T. Wright that the gate at Lymne was raised on a platform of big stones. At Lymne and Pevensey entrance gates had round-fronted towers, and the great gate at Colchester had quadrants.

Mediæval Aldgate had two round-fronted towers; these are shown in the Survey of Holy Trinity Priory mentioned above, and they are so similar to the bastions of the wall that I was led to suggest that the double gateway and towers were probably substantially Roman work (Fig. 40). Some confirmation of this is given in _V.C.H._, but compare _Archæologia_, xliii. Fitzstephen, writing at the end of the twelfth century, says that London had “double gates,” and this was doubtless so from Roman days.

The Roman ditch outside Aldersgate, with a foundation for a bridge pointing towards the gate, was found about thirty years ago, and this is evidence for a Roman gate on this site (_Archæol._ lii.). Ludgate is guaranteed as Roman by the antiquity of the Strand and Fleet Street. Stow says that in 1595 he observed on the north side of Fleet Street from Chancery Lane to St. Dunstan’s Church, 4 ft. below the surface, “a pavement of hard stone, more sufficient than the first, under which they found in the made ground piles of timber almost close together, the same being black as pitch and rotten, which proved that the ground there, as sundry other places of the City, had been a marsh.” Close piling was such a common Roman procedure that it may not be doubted that what Stow observed was the Roman road to Ludgate.

Mediæval Aldgate can be restored very fully by comparing the plan mentioned above with the view of the City given by Braun and Hogenberg (_c._ 1550). The gate is so accurately represented that two stair turrets appear over the positions where stairs are shown in the plan. If this gate is so accurately drawn, then the other indications may be accepted. In the Pepys collection, Cambridge, is an engraved view of a gate dated 1688; in the list of contents this is described as Cripplegate, but I believe it is rather Bishopsgate. It was an unaltered mediæval structure, with corbelled battlements and three statues in niches, one on each of the towers and one in the centre. Newgate is also represented in a woodcut view of about the same time, and in an engraving of considerable accuracy, from a book entitled _Herba Parietis_; here even Whittington’s coat-of-arms plainly appears. For a possible view of the Bridge gate, _c._ 1416, see an article by Mr. Weale in the _Burlington Magazine_, 1904.

A Roman road on piles has recently been found in Southwark (_Archæol._ lxiii.). Adding the Bridge gate, we now have evidence for the existence in Roman days of the six chief gates of Londinium. It has been suggested that there may have been an earth bank inside the walls, as at Silchester, but the different relation of the fronts of the gates to the walls in London are contrary arguments.

_Ditches._—When the site of Newgate was excavated I saw the slope of the ditch clearly defined by the blacker earth lying above the clean yellow gravel. The latest and clearest account of the ditches is in _Archæologia_, lxiii. There was first a narrow V-shaped ditch dug when the wall was first built. A second wider ditch was excavated outside the other, which was at least partly filled when the bastions were built. There were similar double ditches at Silchester, and it has been pointed out that there the earlier V-shaped ditch probably supplied the gravel for building the wall; possibly this was the case at London too. The wide ditch was probably further expanded in front of the gates; it was about 75 ft. wide at the top of the bank outside Aldersgate.

_The Original Port of London and the Bridge._—The space within the completed walls has been computed to have been about 330 acres by Dr. Philip Norman. Dr. Haverfield says: “At London, Silchester, Trier, Cologne, the walls seem to have enclosed the town at near its largest” (_Romanization_). Roach Smith first remarked that from the position of burials within the area of the City we might infer the position of an earlier Londinium. Loftus Brock also, following Woodward, in pointing out that the northern cemetery had come within the space enclosed by the City Wall at Bishopsgate, used the same argument. Mr. Reginald Smith plotted all the known burials on a plan. Mr. Lambert has also laid down the find spots of coins of different dates. In his recent paper in _Archæology_ he suggests that a stratum of charred material between London Bridge and the Walbrook represents the early Londinium destroyed by Boadicea. A large number of rubbish pits have been found within the walls. Putting these facts together it is evident that the original site of Londinium must have been by the inlet of the Walbrook, and it is probable that this little tidal creek was the first port of London—the seaport of Celtic Verulam, to which an old road led by Aldersgate and Islington. It is likely that before the Roman walls were built some defensive bank would have been thrown up between the Fleet and the Walbrook; compare the earth banks at Colchester. Can Barbican represent such a defence?

London Bridge is mentioned in the tenth century. Stow tells us that it was first of timber. Then in 1067 a charter speaks of “Botolph’s Gate, with a wharf which was at the head of London Bridge.” He goes on: “About the year 1176 the stone bridge was begun near unto the bridge of timber, but towards the west, for Botolph’s wharf was, in the Conqueror’s time, at the head of London Bridge.”

Nothing was known of a Roman bridge until last century. Then when the old stone bridge was destroyed evidence was found which convinced observers of the time that a Roman bridge had preceded it on the same line. Recently some writers, while accepting the Roman bridge as proved, have preferred to put it back to Stow’s line. Haverfield says: “No traces of a Roman bridge have yet been found (_Archæologia_, lx.): the oldest mediæval bridge (eleventh century) is said by Stow to have been near Botolph’s wharf (see plan).” This plan shows the bridge “temp. William the Conqueror” far to the east of Fish Street Hill (see also _V.C.H._). Exactly what Haverfield meant by saying that no traces of the bridge had been found is hard to say; it seems to have been as loose a statement as the one which seems to imply that the earliest mediæval bridge was of the eleventh century.

Roach Smith, a cautious observer, was entirely convinced by the evidence that the mediæval bridge followed the course of the Roman bridge. “Throughout the line of the old bridge many thousands of Roman coins, with abundance of Roman pottery, were discovered, and beneath some of the central piles brass medallions of Aurelius, Faustina and Commodus. The enormous quantity of Roman coins may be accounted for by the practice of the Romans ... they may have been deposited upon the building or repairs of the bridge, as well as upon the accession of a new emperor.... The beautiful works of art which were discovered alongside the foundations, the colossal bronze head of Hadrian, the bronze images of Apollo, Mercury, Atys ... and other relics were possibly thrown into the river by early Christians” (_Archæol. Jour._, vol. i.). This seems substantial evidence. The charter cited by Stow only speaks of a wharf as being at the head of London Bridge; it does not tell us that the bridge ran into the middle of the wharf. The Roman bridge was linked up with an approach from the south over a raised causeway; the bridge-ends would have required much consolidation, and the foundations in the great tidal river must have been extremely difficult to construct. We should need very clear demonstration before we could believe that the early Saxons did more than patch up the work of skilled Roman engineers. Altering of the bridge to the Gracechurch Street line on the City side in 1176 would have meant replanning on a big scale. The ancient line of approach on the south side is guaranteed by the area of Roman finds (see _V.C.H._ plan). Gracechurch Street is known to have existed before the Conquest, and the positions of the ancient churches of St. Magnus’s and St. Olaf’s at each end of the bridge are significant: the bridge, I believe, was in the parishes of these two churches.

Much more might be said, but I cannot think it is necessary. I conclude that the Roman bridge followed the line between the “Borough” and Gracechurch Street, and that the phrase in the charter was nothing more than a general indication of the position of the wharf.

After the building of the Roman bridge, Billingsgate may have succeeded the Walbrook creek as the chief port of London.

One of the sights of Londinium which may best be imagined is the approach over the bridge. Or we may think of the ring of turreted walls of the City by the river as seen from the northern heights. Or, again, we may think of the sights from the walk on the City Walls; the Kent hills beyond the Thames estuary, with ships coming up to make fast at Dowgate; then, turning to look inward over the City, we may imagine the narrow streets and plastered, red-tiled, houses. It must have been grim and grey when the roofs were covered with snow, and we may wonder what dwellers from the south thought of our fogs. Yet Londinium was a romantic city, a little Rome in the west, and we want some good story about it which shall bring it out of archæology into the minds of the citizens and the hearts of the children.

+CHAPTER IV+

CEMETERIES AND TOMBS

“O more than mortal man that did this town begin, Whose knowledge found the plot so fit to set it in. Built on a rising bank within a vale to stand, And for thy healthful soil chose gravel mixed with sand.”

DRAYTON’S _Polyolbion_.

CEMETERIES

THE site of London by a noble tidal river, or rather at the head of a long estuary, on clean gravel ground intersected with streams, was well chosen. The ground was open heath with scrubby vegetation, except for woods here and there where the soil was suitable. Sir Thomas More planned his “Utopia” on a site similar to that of London. The buildings of London have spoilt an excellent golf course! The walled city set down in the fair land must have been beautiful indeed, as seen from the Hampstead or Surrey hills. On approaching the turreted walls by the straight and narrow roads, the traveller would have had to pass through a wide belt of cemeteries. Around Londinium in its later state, the gardens of the dead would have come right up to the city ditch, just as at Constantinople the beautiful Turkish cemeteries, with their noble cypresses, lie close beside the walls of the city.

“Around Rome was a great belt of cemeteries; the sides of the main roads issuing from the gates were especially favoured sites; the chief region of all was that crossed by the Via Appia and Via Latina” (Lanciani).

“An immense field of the dead had extended all along the north-eastern quarter of ancient London, from Wapping Marsh to the fen beyond Moorfields” (C. Knight).

Goodman’s Fields, Moorfields, Spitalfields, were all cemeteries, and it is curious that they all have in common the name of fields. In the valley of the Fleet River by Ludgate and Blackfriars on the west were also cemeteries; and others lay beyond Southwark (Battersea Fields and St. George’s Fields?). The city of the dead must have been impressive on account of its extent and the number of its population, and doubtless it was beautiful. The harsh horror of modern cemeteries is a new thing on the earth. In antiquity, cemeteries had beauty, poetry, history.

The monuments of Londinium would have been of many kinds, small and big—columns, sculptures, mausolea, altar-tombs, tomb-houses, and steles or slabs. These tombs were not cold and pale, but profusely carved, and, doubtless, in most cases, coloured. The monuments in the museum at Trèves show many traces of colour—red, green and yellow, if I remember aright. Dr. Ashby recently described a huge Roman necropolis at Syracuse in words which might apply to Londinium. “Fragments of memorials were found, varying from simple steles and columns to the chapel with rich architectural forms, the decorative portions being in soft limestone with considerable traces of polychromy.” Painting over coarse soft stone was a general tradition, and bright colour liberally applied would greatly change the aspect of rather crude carvings. At Bath an inscription mentions the repair and repainting of a building. This might be internal painting, but it was an external inscription and probably included outside work. The Corinthian temple at Bath was decorated with colour on the exterior. Mr. Irvine says of a piece of the cornice: “Considerable portions of the red paint with which it had been covered remained among the carving.”