Now in this island of Britain the men of ancient times built a long wall, cutting off a large part of it; and the climate and the soil and everything else is not alike on the two sides of it. For to the south of the wall there is a salubrious air, changing with the seasons, being moderately warm in summer and cool in winter. But on the north side everything is in reverse of this, so that it is actually impossible for a man to survive there even half an hour, but countless snakes and serpents and every other kind of wild creature occupy this area as their own. And, strangest of all, the inhabitants say that if a man crosses this wall and goes to the other side, he dies straightaway. They say, then, that the souls of men who die are always conveyed to this place
Procopius of Caesarea writing of Hadrian’s wall in the 6th Century
For some years before I moved back to the northeast of England, I lived a few miles from Bath in England's southwest. A city famous for its Buns, Jane Austen (although she didn't seem to like the place quite as much as people think), its Georgian architecture and, of course, the Roman Baths. Oh, and in my book Mary Shelley, as it was in Bath she wrote most of Frankenstein. In a house near the Abbey since demolished to allow expansion of the 'Pump Room'. A nondescript plaque is all there is to commemorate the location where Mary made her marvellous contribution to English literature. And by the way, the Romans called the city Aquae Sulis, after the earlier shrine to the Celtic god Sulis. The Saxons named the place Hat-Bathum, or 'hot baths', although they did have another name for it - Acemannes-cester, 'the sick man's city'.
In contrast Newcastle, and the northeast generally, can't offer a Roman building as beautiful as Bath's baths. The north wasn’t a place for Roman relaxed recreation. It was frontier territory, so what remains are the remnants of many Roman military settlements. Bits of Hadrian's Wall are still there, along with evidence of several forts and garrisons.
The Romans arrived in what is now Newcastle during the reign of Emperor Hadrian over 1900 years ago. Hadrian's legions had taken the land of Britain's south and Midlands quickly enough. However, they found the terrain in Wales and the north of Britain, along with their recalcitrant local inhabitants, more of a challenge. Julius Agricola, now recognised as the most brilliant of the generals Hadrian sent to Britain, finally broke the local resistance. It was a military brilliance of which it is said Hadrian was jealous. Having an emperor jealous of you was never a good place to be in Ancient Rome; however, I am pleased to report that Julius safely returned home and died a peaceful death in later years.
The Romans first had to build a bridge across a river to establish themselves on the land that would be the future Newcastle. A river the Romans did not call the Tyne but possibly Vedra. When the later Angles settled the area, the river, for reasons unknown, acquired the name ‘Tyne.’
The spot the Romans chose for their bridge is where the Victorian swing bridge sits today, where the tide and river meet. It's known from a later discovery on the riverbed that on the Roman bridge stood a shrine containing two altars dedicated to the gods of sea and river and a commemorative slab. The slab, erected by legionaries drafted from mainland Europe, commemorates their safe passage across the North Sea. I've crossed that sea when it's in a grumpy mood, so I can fully understand why the troops chose to mark their safe passage.
Once the Romans had built the bridge, they built a fort. Pretty much where the Norman castle, which gives Newcastle its name, sits today. Clearly, the Romans thought the bridge the most crucial construction as they called it Pons Aelius in honour of Hadrian (Aelius was his family name) and simply gave the fort the same name.
But having conquered the locals, where would the Romans fix the northern frontier of this British province? After all, some protection was required against the marauding Caledonians who lived in what the Romans saw as the wild lands further north (today we call that Scotland). Well, soon after 120 CE Hadrian visited Britain and decided that the frontier would run from the mouth of the now-Tyne to that of the now-Solway. Ordering the frontier be marked by a narrow defence zone running ribbon-wise between the two rivers.
It took six years for a mixture of legionaries, auxiliaries and some forced labour from the native tribes to build the defensive zone. It was bordered on one side with a wall, partly of stone and partly of turf, and on the other side with an earthwork known as the Vallum. Every five miles along the zone, the Romans also built substantial forts. Each was big enough to garrison either a thousand soldiers or five hundred cavalry. And the majority of those who served came from modern-day Spain, Romania, Germany, France, the Netherlands, Syria and North Africa. Everywhere in fact other than Britain (they would have probably deserted). There were few, if any, from Italy. It's not surprising, really. Would you swap the mild Mediterranean for the scything east wind from the North Sea? For a few years in my career, I needed to visit the military range on the Hebrides. From conversations with those posted there, I suspect it would be seen as the modern equivalent of that older Roman military posting (but without the marauding Caledonians).
The Roman north's strategic backbone became the highway of Dere Street, from Eburacum (York) through Corstopitum (now the lovely small Northumbrian town of Corbridge). Despite Newcastle's prominence today, in Roman times it had little importance (remember they'd named it after a bridge). Pons Aelius was just another fort on the subsidiary fringe. In contrast, Corstopitum became a vital arsenal and supply base and was a much more extensive and populous centre than Pons Aelius.
The area of Newcastle at Hadrian's Wall's eastern end is unimaginatively called Wallsend. However, in Roman times it was a cavalry fort called Segedunum. Unbeknownst to Chris Killip, when he took his memorable photographs of the decaying housing and industry of Wallsend, the scenes he photographed lay on top of that Roman fort. The streets and buildings Chris captured so evocatively are now gone, and the fort was excavated to allow visitors to explore and understand life as a Roman cavalryman. A modern monument at Segedunum that always causes me to pause is that which lists the known individuals who built Hadrian’s Wall. The names were gathered from ‘centurial stones’ that record the army units that built the wall.
About four miles east of Segedunum the Romans built Arbeia, an even larger fort I visited last week. Unlike the other excavated forts and garrisons that sit along Hadrian's wall, reconstruction, following Roman building methods, of the West Gate (see photograph), one of the barracks and the commanders' house has taken place in Arbeia. All are wonderful to behold and give an enlightening insight into what life would have been like for those who lived there. And as I’ve mentioned, they came from far and wide. The fort's name means 'fort of the Arab troops' and refers to the fact that once based there were soldiers from modern-day Iraq. One can only imagine their thoughts at a posting to a damp, windswept hill in northeast England. The contrast between the commanders' spacious quarters, where he lived with his family, and the barracks is striking. In the latter, four soldiers would share a cramped space, and while the cavalryman had a little more room, they shared that with their horse. The air must have held a rich aroma.
Arbeia now sits surrounded by the urban conurbation of South Shields. However, when built in 160 CE, it was an essential military base strategically placed to defend the mouth of the River Tyne. Initially, the fort was built to house a garrison of some five hundred soldiers and cavalry in a typical Roman style with walls made of wattle, daub, and stone. However, Emperor Septimius Severus expanded it to include a granary that could store up to eight hundred tonnes of grain. This was enough to feed the circa 25,000 people in the Roman forts and garrisons in the north.
While most people in the UK will know of Hadrian, few remember Emperor Septimius Severus. Yet he spent the last three years of his life in Britain, arriving in CE 208 with a great army. Some say it was in response to a request from the Governor of Britain for military aid to suppress a rebellion. However, another school of thought is that the emperor was tired of the squabbling between his grown-up sons, Caracalla and Publius Septimius Geta. Their father therefore decided to launch a military campaign, bringing them to Britain as a 'distraction' for the two of them. I suppose that's one way of solving family issues. So, the imperial family, including the emperor’s wife Julia Domna, and the bureaucracy of the imperial court came to Britain, ruling the Roman Empire from York for three years.
Once in Britain and along with expanding Arbeia, Septimius set about refurbishing and enhancing Hadrian's Wall. Yet, having improved the wall, he then moved his massive army of 50,000 soldiers further north to subdue the Caledonians, a considerable commitment of time and resources.
So, leaving Geta and Julia Domna with the court in York, Severus at 63 and 20-year-old Caracalla led the army north of Hadrian's Wall and advanced deep into what is now Scotland. As other English 'leaders' have found afterwards, military campaigning there is difficult given the rugged terrain and hostile but agile opponents that avoided the irresistible strength of the Roman legions in set-piece battles. Eventually, Septimius declared a victory of sorts that allowed him and his sons to assume the title ‘Britannicus’.
The victory was short-lived. The tribes revolted, and Septimius fell ill and returned to York, where he died in February 211 CE. He hoped after his death that his two sons would reign as co-emperors, forgetting this was an imperial Roman family. Unsurprisingly, after a swift return to Rome, Caracalla murdered Geta and seized the throne.
The Romans occupied Pons Aelius for some two hundred years, but by the end of that time their Empire in the West was crumbling under the stress of what the Romans saw as barbarian invasion (one person's barbarian is another person's freedom fighter.) Belief is that in the same 5th Century year in which the Goths under Alaric sacked Rome the last Roman garrisons were also withdrawn from Britain and the province was abandoned. It left the Romanised Britons who lived in and around such places as Corstopitum, Pons Aelius, Arbeia and Segedunum largely unprotected against the next invasion of the island by a people from overseas not just intent on conquest but migration and settlement. It was the beginning of the country of England, but that's a whole other meander ....
So, Newcastle-upon-Tyne began her long and eventful history as a northern frontier station. Indeed, she continued to fill such a role up until the mid-1600s …. those Caledonians were always keen to visit.
Another nice read, Harry, full of rich detail. I lived in Bath and loved it! So we have another town in common, Harry! I agree Austen didn't like it as much, but her museum is still nice.
P.S. I shall read the rest later, when time permits. I'm looking forward to it 😊