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Two thousand years ago London didn't exist. It was created by the Romans in the first century AD, when they settled in the area now occupied by the City. The settlement started as a simple bridge over the River Thames, but within 100 years it had become a bustling city with a population of 30,000.
A long way from Rome, Londinium has tended to be regarded as something of a frontier town, an unsophisticated outpost perched precariously on the very edge of the Roman empire. In the past decade, though, a huge amount of redevelopment has taken place in the City, providing an unparalleled opportunity for archaeologists to find out more about the old Roman city beneath the modern streets and buildings. What they've discovered suggests that far from being a relatively uncivilisedĘbackwater Londinium was in fact one of the most sophisticated and advanced cities in the entire empire.
At the beginning of the 1990s, planning law in Britain was changed so that developers were compelled to pay for the costs of investigating any archaeology on sites where they were planning to build. Since then, more than Ł200 million has been spent on archaeological excavations in the City of London, and our understanding of the area's Roman and other history has advanced enormously.
Time Team followed one of the biggest of these excavations, on a football pitch-sized site at Gresham Street, just north of a Roman baths and just south of the amphitheatre and fort. The excavation, carried out in phases with the archaeologists slotted in on a tight schedule between the demolition of existing buildings and the construction of new ones, took about a year from start to finish and cost the developers, Land Securities, around Ł1 million.
One of the very first finds made on the site, soon after digging started in December 2000, was something that the Romans would undoubtedly have regarded as auspicious – an omen of good luck. It was a tiny intaglio – an engraved green jasper gemstone from a ring, which would have been used as a personal seal on documents and correspondence. The gemstone was intricately carved with a picture of Sol, the Roman sun god, riding a four-horse chariot.
Sol was popular throughout the empire and the encouragement given to his worship by emperors from Nero onwards foreshadowed the later adoption of Christianity as the official religion of Rome. The sun god's birthday was celebrated on 25 December, which was later adopted by the Christian Church as the birthday of Jesus. The Romans would have considered the discovery of something bearing Sol's image so close to his birthday as one of the best possible omens for the dig to come. They would not have been wrong.
The area under excavation was one that archaeologists knew next to nothing about. Nick Bateman, project manager of the Museum of London Archaeology Service, said: 'It lies at the centre of a group of about 15 sites that we've excavated in this area around Gresham Street and in the north-west corner of the City of London over the past five or ten years. Because of its size and because it lies at the centre of these sites we hope it's going to be the key that unlocks all sorts of doors.'
For a long time, though, rather than unlocking doors the excavation seemed simply to be piling up mysteries. The archaeologists had expected that, because of its proximity to important Roman buildings such as the amphitheatre and baths, the entire site would have been heavily developed in Roman times. In fact, a large area produced no signs of any buildings at all.
What this area did contain was two large, timber-lined shafts, which got deeper and deeper as the excavation went on. Extensions were negotiated with the developers to enable the diggers to reach the bottom – and what they found there was extraordinary. In one shaft, they discovered a perfectly preserved Roman half-barrel, together with a dozen oak containers of at-first-sight unknown function. In the other, a number of large iron chain links, connecting bolts and split pins were recovered, all of which seemed too well-preserved to be Roman. The archaeologists even wondered whether they had fallen off a modern crane working on the site.
Even when it became clear that the finds were definitely connected with the by-now five-metre-deep shafts, it took some time to work out their function – and how the different pieces fitted together. They turned out to be parts from Roman water-lifting machines, examples of hydraulic technology as advanced as could be found anywhere in the world at the time.
Dendrochronology (tree-ring) dating revealed that one had been built around 63 AD and the other early in the second century. They were used to supply water to Roman baths.
Another mystery was provided by the discovery of a left hand and forearm, one and a half times life size, from a gilded bronze statue. This was found in an open drainage ditch, accompanied by hundreds of sherds from Roman amphorae (the large pottery vessels used for carrying wine, oil and other liquids), which were dated to around 70 AD. Only a dozen pieces from Roman bronze statues have ever been found in Britain; normally such valuable scrap metal would be melted down and reused. The archaeologists speculated that the statue arm would most likely have been thrown there in anger – perhaps in a revolt or after an unpopular emperor was deposed, when statues were often smashed. It might also have been placed there deliberately as an offering to the gods.
The archaeology in another area of the site, sandwiched between the amphitheatre and the otherwise empty area containing the water shafts, had been badly damaged by modern development. But a few traces remained of what was once a row of Roman buildings. This yielded another unexpected find – a clump of extremely high quality, painted wall plaster.
Barham described it as 'the most fantastic wall plaster I've ever worked on'.
The excavations also yielded a wealth of material that helps to fill in a picture of everyday life in Roman Londinium. A Roman kitchen, complete with hearth and pots, was uncovered as it was left following the destruction of the house in which it stood – probably in the Hadrianic Fire that devastated London in 125 AD. There were large numbers of everyday items,from coins to Roman styli (writing implements), which would last have been handled almost 2,000 years ago. And the waterlogged conditions in the shafts and other parts of the site produced a range of well-preserved organic material, including shoes and clothing accessories, that doesn't normally survive.
In combination with the other excavations that have taken place in the City of London over the past decade, the Gresham Street dig has revealed a Londinium that may have been on the edge of the Roman empire geographically but was also prosperous, sophisticated and technologically advanced. What's left of the archaeology may now be buried under 21st-century concrete, but it opened up a fresh – and frequently surprising – window onto Roman Londinium before the developers finally moved in.
The two five-metre-deep, oak-lined shafts discovered in an otherwise undeveloped area of Roman Londinium posed a mystery for the archaeologists at Gresham Street. It was solved when the well-preserved remains of two Roman water-lifting machines were found at the bottom of the shafts.
Londinium had at least two public baths and a population of more than 10,000 when the first of the two machines was made, but no known aqueduct or other obvious means of supplying the water that the city would have needed. The shafts, it turned out, had been dug as wells to provide a reliable water supply, which could then be raised by means of these sophisticated machines, which are the first to be discovered in Britain.
The earlier shaft was dated (using dendrochronology, or tree-ring dating) to 63 AD. It formed part of the large-scale reconstruction of the city following its destruction in the revolt led by Boudicca in 61-62 AD. It appears to have been used for fewer than ten years before being abandoned.
At the bottom of the shaft was a perfectly preserved Roman half-barrel, with even its hoops still in place. The waterlogged conditions meant that the wood was almost as fresh as the day it was cut; the trader's mark was still clearly visible on the barrel. In deposits that had accumulated over the barrel, a series of 12 oak containers, each capable of holding two litres of water, were discovered. Museum of London experts worked out that the containers would have been linked together to form a continuous chain. Water could then have been raised to the surface by means of a treadmill, operated either by animals or human slaves.
The second shaft is thought to date from the early second century. This yielded a complete copper cauldron and another water-lifting machine. This was a more advanced device, consisting of a series of huge wrought iron cranked links, which lifted as many as 20 six-litre water buckets. Again, the machine would have been powered by a treadmill.
Much of the ironwork showed signs of having buckled under intense heat. A fire, possibly the Hadrianic Fire of 125 AD, seems to have destroyed the machine and a building built above it.
The gilded bronze left hand and forearm found in a Roman drainage ditch during the Gresham Street excavation is one of only a dozen or so such bronze statue pieces ever found in Britain. It is one and a half times life size, and very finely worked. (According to the Museum of London: 'The nails, thumb and finger joints, knuckles and back of the hand are detailed and show a high level of competence in executing a naturalistic style.') So it must have been part of a statue representing someone very important – possibly even the emperor himself.
Archaeologists believe that the arm was most likely dumped in the ditch as a result of the statue being deliberately smashed, either in a rebellion or following the overthrow of an unpopular emperor. One possibility is that this took place after the emperor Nero's suicide in 68 AD.
The arm was found amidst hundreds of pottery sherds from Roman amphorae (storage vessels used for transporting wine, oil and other liquids), which seem to have been deliberately dumped in the ditch as part of a building project. These have been dated to around 70 AD, which would fit in with the statue being destroyed after Nero's death.
The arm was discovered by archaeologist Ben Savine of AOC Archaeology, who has left his permanent mark on it. 'Unfortunately, because we were winding down this area at the end of the week, we were hacking through at quite a rate and I smacked it with a mattock,' he says, just a little embarrassedly.
The painted wall plaster from the Gresham Street excavation was found face down. It had to be lifted carefully and no one knew what it might depict or how well preserved any painting might be. So when conservator Liz Barham came to clean back the dirt, she was both astonished and delighted by what she found.
The full picture cannot be reconstructed from the fragments that have been found, but there are enough pieces to get a sense of what must have been an extremely high-status wall painting. One fragment showed part of a team of horses, or sea-horses. Another showed the face of a young woman, with decorative vines and a fluted column. Yet another showed the head of a young man, and above it a 'thyrsus', the stick associated with the god Bacchus.
Liz Barham thinks that the complete painting may have depicted Bacchus himself, accompanied by his followers. It is thought to date from the second century AD, possibly from a bath house or the town house of wealthy resident. The vibrant colours and skilled drawing reflect a quality of wall painting that has been found only rarely in Britain. She describes it as 'the most fantastic wall plaster I've ever worked on'.
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