A Foreign Army

We had a Roman Army marching through the playground today.  Led by a Centurion who bullied the troops, marched them around, forced them to drill, and even made them defend a barrage from violent teachers!  
They all appeared happy enough!  
This is part of the school curriculum which now takes a longer view of history than before.  Kids have to learn about Romans, Anglo Saxons and Victorians as well as more modern history.  Actually I think they also have to learn about the Normans and medieval times also surely!  Scots history, a more accurate view of the world, is decided in Scotland and will already give a better view of the world, just look at me!    
This was our first Roman teaching day, the Auxiliary Soldier was magnificent.  The kids on parade were full of smiles and thoroughly enjoying the whole experience.  This is an excellent way in which to educate kids on the days of long ago.  When they are happy they learn, when miserable they forget the good things.  This lot will remember today.


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Bleak Fair

Poor man has arrived here once again when the weather is gray and chilly.  He should know by now he rarely sees the sun when he arrives.  The shows themselves change each year, what once was lots of roundabouts this year is almost entirely bouncy castles!  The few kids I saw as I passed were happy enough with that mind.  Poor man had three of his expensive banners ripped by a passing thug late one night so already he is out of pocket.  With the weather as it is I suspect he will be struggling to break even.  A rather risky business travelling the country.

This is the only picture I have taken since being out the other day.  Dreich weather has put me off going anywhere.  On the other hand I have watched lots of football and spent a lot of time asleep!

There was a time when I never seemed to have time to myself, now I have plenty.  One of the advantages of my position is the lack of need to rise early, struggle to work by bike, bus or other means, spend a long day with people determined to ruin my life, earn too little cash, sometimes enjoy the life and often wish I could be elsewhere.  Now all I need is a large donation of twenty pound notes to ease the day.  

Actually having most of my needs met, the house with swimming pool is still outstanding, I suspect I may use such cash to travel around taking pictures or spend too much time in bookshops, charity and proper, lining the bookshelves with worthwhile and entertaining reading.  Finding decent bookshops is however very difficult unless you live in the big city.  So many have closed because of Amazon that only the strongest survive.  

I mention this because I am once again going through a 'Roman' period.  I am browsing through Tacitus 'Annuls' as find it interesting.  I bought this in a shop when I was looking for his 'Histories' and was fooled by the one word title.  The copy I already possessed is called the 'Annals of Imperial Rome' and the one I bought was a new version again by Penguin.  Fool that I am!  I still have not got the other. Interesting how Rome was governed in such a manner, the Emperor being almost totally powerful yet spending much time wary of others making bids for power, usually women!  Why Harridan Harman never mentions them I do not know.  

The rich and powerful in the senate could also fall from grace and lose their heads if luck goes against them, today they merely move to other lucrative jobs and write about their enemies. Nothing much changes with those in power, it was ever thus.  Jesus, Lord of all, washes his disciples feet, these men build empires to their glory walking over any who get in their way and excuse the deaths and destruction that happen to occur.  Big houses, vast bank accounts with no tax paid, 'Top Gear' used as a shopping mall for cars rather than watched to see three idiots driving, and nothing but enmity from so many around them, all who disappear when the money vanishes.    

I envy them not.

No news in the papers, just election lies, half truths and deception.  Lots more to come I fear.

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Roman in the Glo...Museum....

For the 'Festival of Archaeology' we dug up some Romans today.  Bits of tile, pots and beads and stuff abounded.  Slides of Ephesus, weaving & cooking Roman style (not at the same time) and the chance to build a town from Roman style houses.  The 'flint lady' arrived also and found many friends among the young.

Our Roman Auxiliary placed helmets on kids heads, this they thought heavy until they tried the chain mail vest!  This weighs 25 kilo's and enabled them to stand still afraid to move!  Lovely to see.  These two had a lovely time, as had I wearing a toga and declaiming to the masses.  The masses I must say remained unmoved.  The masses may not have turned out today, the town was very quiet, but those that came, including two of Houston's finest, enjoyed their ambling about the place.  Kids were supposed to make their own Roman style house and contribute this to our plan of the Roman town. Most took theirs home so the town is more like a village tonight. 

I had a small taste of the cooks Roman bread and was won over!   I will not look out a recipe and burn my own.  It tasted fabulous and while some say the diet was rich I see all that fruit as healthy.  That is if they could afford the rich foodstuffs. Roman plebs lived of the free handout of flour did they not?  Not much date sauce around their houses.  

Anyway, this guy found my usual seat.....

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Thursday Shopping!

This depressing view is how we shop today.  Romance tells us that in the past small shops were friendlier, more sociable and more human.  The last is certainly true!  The sociability and friendliness depended on the shop owner but their size at least was easier for as human to comprehend.  Today large shopping centres are geared to the rich man in his automobile, leaving a depressing emptiness outside, even if clean and safe.  The large buildings house all those shiny things we long desperately for, whether they make us happy or just fill our emptiness is another question.  Today in search of something shiny I took myself to the Stanway centre by bus, I left the Bentley in the garage.  

Now some weeks ago it came into my head to fix the broken PC, I need this in working order in case the laptop dies, dead computer means life as we know it comes to a halt, and that will never do! Struggling with this idea I was in Chelmsford, at Maplins shop, investigating a motherboard an other nameless bits on the shelves there.  My brilliant brain decided to leave it and investigate PC World and the vast stocks on their shelves, therefore I was here in their Stanway shop.  Here I discovered, via a friendly and competent young assistant, that since uniting with 'Curry's,' PC World/Currys no longer stock the inside bits for PCs, only shiny new ones.  The young lad suggests I try 'Maplins,' they stock motherboards he offers helpfully.  My slumped shoulders headed for the bus stop where I caught the next one into Colchester itself in the vain hope that their shop would be readily available in the town centre, it wasn't!  Bah!  So I wandered about, avoiding the charity and book shop temptations keeping my eyes upwards looking in case something interesting was to be found.  Several bumps into people and street furniture later I changed my approach.

      

Behind the Roman wall at what once was the edge of town stands St Mary at the Wall a redundant church that has stood here for around a thousand years and now is merely an 'arts' centre.  I suspect it will be an excellent venue according to the many big names that have appeared there, it must hold a thousand or so in the main hall.  Had it not been for the dual carriageway someone had dumped in front of me I would have had a closer look.  

This is a pub called 'The Bull.'  They have enabled even the daftest to realise this by placing a 'bull' high above the door.  This of course was what was done in days of yore when education was lacking, even the daftest could tell the difference between a bull and a Swan, as many were named.  The flags are out to tempt people to watch the 'Six Nations' rugby which is on at the moment. Sadly the sun shines on the other side of the street hence the dullness.

  

The Edwardian's liked fancy buildings!  The Baroque Town Hall was built in 1902 with a rich patron, James Paxman, paying for the tower soaring high above crowned by the statue of St Helena the towns patron saint.   Inside and out it represents the wealth the men of the town wished to impress upon the world, and bask in reflected glory themselves.  No doubt some of those men were around when Henry Charles Fehr sculpted the war memorial raised in 1923.  The usual words bedeck the memorial as the townspeople attempted to believe their war was indeed just and glorious.  Memorials raised today do not inspire such admiration I think.

I was unable to find 'Maplins,' probably because it lay on the other side of town from where I landed, so instead had a closer look at the 15th century gatehouse to St Johns Abbey, the only remaining part of said abbey.  Besieged during the English Civil War, which was not very civil as may lost their heads here, the gatehouse survives although behind lies merely a car park, and only for the use of the members of the organisation based here.  

At one time this supported a statue of either a saint or a local worthy, today it just wears away in the rain.  The siege may also have caused damage, the twin was almost worn away.  

Inside the small gate reflects the small size of people in those days, six foot tall people were unusual at the time, and I wondered about the people who peered from the windows at those waiting outside for them.  The Benedictines moved in late in the 11th century and moved out when Henry VIII kicked them out.  The Abbot refused to hand the place over and was gently hanged just outside the gate. Henry had no patience in those days.  The Lucas family took over and moved in, sadly they supported the crown during the civil war in 1648 and this led to their end and the bits of damage to the gatehouse.  The buildings inside disappeared over the years.

I was impressed by this wee house, dated 1823, clearly enlarged since and more so round the back I noticed, but remaining a delightful small cottage.  I am not jealous I state here, not jealous at all.  St John's Green primary school also drew my admiration, although I am not willing to attend there.  Built in 1898 in a kind of Dutch style it reflected the weaving history of the area and the Flemish connections from the past.  

  
As infants rarely have the ability to read I am struck by how many old schools put directions above the doors to ensure the wee ones went into the right area. Maybe they were a wee bit brainier in those day?

This area abounds in churches that date back a millennium, the disused Church of St Giles goes back to the 12th century but I am not sure what it is used for these days, signs are not obvious. The tower got my attention, that appears very Saxon in its style but it dates from around 1700ish.  As always it has been amended and added to over the years but now lies quietly surrounded by the iron railings that also go back to the 1700's.  

Behind me as I took this picture lay the main police station, the cells I believe lie behind the small square, thick glass windows I leant against, you may no better.  When this station was built in the 80's an archaeological dig discovered 371 Roman burials and this building dating from 320 - 340.  The evidence indicates this could be the earliest church building in the British Isles but further evidence is wanting.  Some reckon it is possibly a Roman soldiers Mythraeum, but they would, wouldn't they?   Ever known archaeologists to agree?  Bah!

Having wandered around the town with my money still in my pocket I splashed out on a £1.50 coffee from this man at the bus station and well worth it it was! I was intrigued as to how somebody ends up running a very successful coffee stall and it transpires this man is an ex-serviceman.  That got me wondering also.  Now he may be happy in his work, he may be making a good profit, this is a busy place to operate, and he may well make sufficient to keep his family happy but it suddenly seemed sad that a man who risked his life in Northern Ireland and Afghanistan should be running a coffee stall.  As stated he might well be happy but it seems to me men who have risked lives for the nation could be getting better treatment than they do, especially when they are capable, knowledgeable and possess that amiability we often find in such men. I am just glad he is as fit as he is, IDS would be naming him in parliament otherwise.

While admiring Coggeshall's old buildings and remembering I was going to visit there I found this cat that I noticed last time.  He slinks on the roof high above the crowd looking for birds that are not gathering in front of him.  Maybe they think he is real!  It reminds those with cameras to always look up, and check it is safe to do so, as above the shop doorways there is often something intriguing awaiting you. 

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Christchurch Priory

To get away from her indoors for a few hours out of the house he and I drove around the edge of town looking at the horrendous flooding that has occurred in this region.  Huge acres were covered in water, much more than in previous years.  The fields were covered in numbers of swans rather than horses.  Interesting to look at from the safety of the car, although not when the stuff swamped the roads, but not what I would wish outside my door.  Driving through some small interesting red bricked villages, never designed for vehicle traffic, we arrived eventually at Christchurch where we sauntered among the Boxing Day walkers braving the howling wind.  The swans eagerly gathered around those foolish enough to wear themselves out and sit on the sheltered benches for a sandwich.  The tide here was so high at one point it had actually reached as high as the benches, these were covered with the detritus left behind by the water.

Much wealth found around this area.  Even in the days of long ago this area was inhabited, it was well developed by the time the Romans arrived and later saw the Saxons move in.  It is thought a chap named Birnius erected a minster here around the late 600's.  This was demolished by the Norman chaps once they took over and in their humble manner they rebuilt the place in solid stone.  The church was part of the Augustinian Monastery which began in 1094 and lasted as such until Henry 8 dissolved the monasteries in1539 to find himself an heir. It Typical Norman stone arches stand proud and are always worth a look in my (very) humble opinion.

The 'quire' stalls are decorated with intricate carvings.  It was here the monks would worship during compline or matins.  Whether the constant construction and reconstruction bothered them I know not.  Today I notice the stalls have red cushions on them, I wonder if this was always the case?  

Christchurch took this name in the 12th century when the story of the 'miraculous beam' began.  Since the dissolution the church has served as a parish church for the area.  Just as well this is a wealthy area, the upkeep must be enormous.  It must always have cost a fortune to keep the fabric of the building in shape.  The number of masons and such like who have worked here must be enormous also.  The carvings found here are worth a look.  When in such places I cannot help but think of the thousands who have passed through for whatever reason in the past, some leaving their graffiti as they did so, others their memory is found on a tablet folks rich enough have placed on the walls.     

Today the vicar is a man who actually knows his God, something unusual amongst Anglicans I can tell you, however he is far from perfect, he is an American!  Imagine!   The Victorians naturally decided the vicar required a home equated with his status and a red brick house stands at the edge of the grounds.  As always I cannot ignore the lovely door, note the beginning of the yellow lines at the bottom of the steps.

What a way to spend Boxing Day, while stayed where she ought to, cooking lunch for our return.  What a great woman!  The one thing that keeps her inside at such times is the idea of passing by the waterside, especially in a cold wind.  She hates that.  Such trips ensure a constant supply of fabulous dinners.   

2012 ends soon and I will be glad to see the back of the year.  Hogmany will hopefully bring a better year tomorrow.  I hope so for all our sakes.   

   

Big Town Again

'The Marquis' is a pub on the North Hill created out of a 16th century dwelling.  Timber framed, black and white frontage I didn't bother picturing as the sun hid at the time.  The doorway caught my attention, pub doorways do catch some of my readers attention I know, and this featured two faces, one carved into each wooden corner.  Whether for decoration or some other reason I fail to say because as usual I can find no info on this building online, just details of the pub itself.  However it appears they have preserved much similar woodwork inside.  I have to plead poverty of course and walk past in spite of searing hunger and exhaustion.

The plastic pipe is not 16th century.

This big beast is 'Jumbo!'  He once supplied the towns water but now is undergoing renovation as a home for some lucky (wealthy) person.  I cut off the bottom as it is hidden behind wooden fencing etc belonging to the developers.  The last time I looked every ledge all the way up was home to the pigeon, masses of them, and I suspect the first job will be to insert netting to prevent that if someone will actually live there.  The view from the top must be fantastic!  The town spread out beneath you, the river leading to the estuary in the distance, the roads running off in all directions and the rain clouds hiding all this from view!  The Romans were not keen on the weather either!

The Romans were keen on building however and also they became very keen on defence at this spot.  What is shown here are the remains of a Roman Gateway known today as the Balkerne Gate. Having invaded successfully in 43 AD the Romans settled down in their small city then known as Colonia Victricencis (City of Victory, but you knew that.)  This settlement was unfortified at the time, which was unfortunate as the Roman in charge upset a woman after her man, the local King, died.  He took all she had, raped her daughters and killed one or two.  As we all know that sort of thing means trouble.  Boudica decided to vent her wrath by burning  Colonia Victricencis to the ground, along with all therein. The only building to survive was the base of the basillica, this now forms the base of the 'castle.' Rome was not best pleased. After removing the Queen of the Iceni and her threat a wall was constructed around the town. She visited in 60/61 AD and the walls have been dated to around 65-80 AD. Lucky for us this almost complete gate survived by being hidden by overgrowth which preserved it in reasonable condition. Around a hundred years ago the structure was dug out and forms a real historical connection to the Roman era we have all read about. During Victorian times the then owner of the pub next door demolished half the wall to allow his guests to see the new railway. This brought him much in the way of custom then and abuse from history lovers today! It was then the pub became known as the 'Hole in the Wall.' The floor of the gateway has been somewhat modernised to cope with visitors and occasional repairs have taken place but most of the wall dates from the first century and reveals the Roman thoroughness when it came to defence. They did enjoy their engineering did the Romans.

Before the pub landlord intervened the gate was double in size and would possibly have been dedicated to the Emperor Claudius.  He had visited while claiming the victory of 43 AD and then received the surrender of the Britons there.  He then hopped of home before he caught cold.  He also named his son Britannicus, and hoped he would become heir, however the lad  was bumped him off later to prevent this.  That nice Tacitus tells us more about that intrigue.  This gate, the oldest and best preserved, faced west and lined up with Londinium, a place you may have heard off.  The opening on the left, a round room, possibly became the guard room but I wonder if anyone actually knows?  Do tell if you know.  The lads needed somewhere to hide when Joe Public was around didn't they?   I love the red bricks used by the Romans.  There are vast numbers on this wall, and indeed on many ancient buildings throughout areas they dominated.  These strong bricks have been reused in houses, walls and church buildings and stand out well.  The soldiers would have been the ones building the wall.  This kept them occupied in between bashing any who may have decided to rebel.  In 'Agricola,' Tacitus tells of his father in laws work in taming this island.  he is accurate in every detail I am sure.   

You wish a close up?  Sure!

A few modern bricks inserted to stop collapse in places but the nature of the structure clear from the top of the gate.  The road outside sinks away but this came from a more recent development, nevertheless the wall plus the previous ditch dug by the Britons left the defenders high above anyone who wished to attack.  The name Balkerne comes from 'baulk,' as in Roman times the gate was baulked up, closed up and sealed, other gates having come into preferred use it seems.  Road widening and later building or renovations have removed almost all traces of previous gates.  One or two remnants remain but nothing as good as this gate.  During excavations in the sixties when the road works were undertaken archaeologists discovered a great deal about the Roman occupation and later times.  They decided to make use of the gate and as the roadworks involved a bridge over the roadway many people pass through today.

More, much more, can be found at Camulos and that is worth a read to those who find such things fascinating.  I recommend this.

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A brief history of England.

Stonehenge in between rain storms 

Around 10,000 BC the ice that had covered the Northern Hemisphere began to recede.  This reached as far south as parts of Essex and stopped in London at the Finchley Road Tube Station, trains to Wembley Park and Amersham were delayed by this. Within a thousand years or so people were using Salisbury Plain as a meeting place, possibly for worship.  It could be they originated in what is now Europe proper, the North Sea had yet to flow south and separate the British Isles from the rest of the land mass. This finally occurred around 6500 BC and many men moved their families onto the new island, while just as many sent them the other way to France to give themselves some peace. Here the few, no, not that 'Few,' settled down to clear the trees, plant crops, and watch football.  They were taught this game by the Scots who had come south to play the tourist, having lived in igloos during the ice age. Sadly it was as yet unavailable on television, this meant actually watching the game live, in the rain. When the early English refused to give the Jocks their ball back they went home, and a state of enmity has remained between the peace loving Scots and the Imperialist English. Within a short thousand years or two settlements were established, standing stones were standing, wars were being fought, this being the English predilection, Flint mines were sprouting downwards and Stonehenge was built.  This as we know was never completed as the roof was never put on.  The English habit of imperialism is seen here, the blue stone used was nicked from Wales when the locals were not looking! 


With the Atlantic Ocean to the west the land suffered from rain quite severely.  This, plus the fact that more populated areas had never heard of it, meant the isles were ignored for the most part although traffic across the sea to Europe for trade, wine, pottery, women, and sickly French cheese, did occur.  In Marseilles a man named Pytheas referred to the Pretanic Isles. Whether he did this on parchment or just scribbled this on a toilet wall is not stated, but mention it he did. Nobody paid any attention bar Belgians who trekked across to Essex where they heard there were jobs available picking and packing frozen peas. This did not please the locals who began to write to the 'Daily Mail' demanding to know why so many foreign Johnnies were coming over here to 'take our jobs and live off the dole?'  They fought back this way and by moving out  and stealing land from those who lived in the wilder west.  This plan was so successful that some time later it was copied in the Americas.


Having once more settled down to peaceful cattle rustling and women stealing the tribes were somewhat surprised and a bit cheesed off when a small balding bloke from Rome turned up and attempted to invade them. (55-45 BC) Having nothing to prove but his desire to be emperor Julius Caesar did eventually get himself ashore, kill an army or two, and fled back to Gaul and the warmer climate.  His only reason to invade was 'because it was there,' and his expedition became a wash out.  This was to be expected as most things get washed out in the British Isles by the rain.  Romes desire to win Britannica was such that at Rome senators were heard to say "Where?" and "What's in it for me?"


The Celts living in Colchester continued on their happy warpath not noticing the European influence.  The young rich who became influenced by the Romans in Gaul, the wine, the togas, being educated all brought "tut tut's" from the older generation who despised people who could read, an English habit today judging by the spelling in the newspapers.  This gradual seeping of Roman influence led to Aulus Plautius invading in 43 AD under orders from Claudius to win him a 'Triumph.'  A previous invasion under Emperor Caligula faded out on the Gaul shoreline when the Emperor ordered his men to collect those nice shell found on the beaches.  The Roman soldiers thoughts on this were not recorded.  Vespasian, an up and coming general brings Civilisation to the south of England by sticking swords into anyone he meets. He became Emperor himself using similar tactics in 66 AD.  Oh you will have noticed the BC has gone and the AD has come.  This did not matter at the time as Englishmen did not use calendars in those days, in fact their watches didn't have a little date that was always three days behind either.  While Boudica decided to get peeved at a slight by a Roman general, he raped her daughters and took all she belonged after her husband, the chief, had died, some would  say burning Londinium (London) and Camulodunum (Colchester) to the ground while everybody was still inside possibly a bit of an over reaction.  However girls will be girls.  Naturally the Romans had ways of responding to this, they came and stuck sword into everybody for miles around.  More 'Civilisation' you see.


The English were often quite happy to let these foreigners take over and those who attempted to resist soon became civilised. Sometimes by the sword, sometimes by being flayed alive, sometimes by being forced to eat spaghetti with a fork.  However when the Romans got to Scotland they were told where to get off. Those that did get off found themselves floating back down the sea lanes.  Crying "Woad unto ye," the peace lovers up north put aside their books and studies, used their mighty wisdom and knowledge of the terrain, allowed the Romans to march north and get stuck in snow drifts until they got fed up with it all they built a wall and stayed away.  Every so often, when the football season was over, the Scots would come to the wall and throw dead Haggis at the Mediterranean types shivering on the walls.  Some still do this today to the tourists backpacking along the wall in the rain.


All good things must come to an end and as Alaric the Rangers fan invaded Rome the Mediterranean types took their good looks, their wine, their opera singing and their slow, fouling type of football and went home to defend their city.  They were too late so they could have stayed here had the locals not charged them so much for rent!  By the year 500 AD all was changed, but that's for another day.

Trimontium Trust

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Suetonius and Tacitus

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Amazon

Recently I have been indulging my liking of history by reading both Suetonius and Tacitus. Roman history was something I knew about without  having studied properly. So I thought have a read of these two books, which someone else paid for, and I am now more aware of the first twelve emperors from Augustus onwards. At least I now have some idea of the authors opinions of these men and their doings, and as always there is a bias to dig through.

  

Suetonius was one of the high ranking members of Roman society. While Hadrian was Emperor he attained the height of being Secretary of the Imperial Correspondence. Unfortunately in the year 122 Hadrian got the impression Suetonius was being 'over familiar' with Sabina, the Empress, while Hadrian was in Britain, and so dismissed him. Having been Director of the Imperial Libraries we was well able to find his way around the records of past deeds, accurate and mythologised, and from these and other sources he produced his 'Lives of the Twelve Caesars.'    

I really enjoyed this book! Whether it was the vast quantities of cash available to the Emperor, the freedom to invade any nation desired, the ability to make instant decisions with no comeback, and removal of those who upset the rulers will by throwing them to the lions I don't know, but I enjoyed this book! Having all power, not counting the women bitching around you and the fawning courtiers making themselves useful and rich, can be a useful trick. However amongst those willing to flatter you rises a desire to put an end to you also. Reading a list of Roman Emperors from the first three hundred years it is the minority who die in their beds, the vast majority were assassinated  I suspect that the real reason I liked this book was the glimpse into the lives of those who ran Rome. A basic insight certainly, not a history similar to those produced today, but insights into the everyday are seen, and they are not always pleasant for the man in charge. 

Both books start with Augustus and end with Domitian, at least they would had much of Tacitus manuscript not been lost. Sadly his book ends just before Nero gets his comeuppance. We are treated to all the worst, and much of the best, of these rulers. The squabbles between them and their women are shown, although the women ought not to be in powerful positions of course. Tacitus especially indicates how disgraceful it is that a mere woman should attempt to run the Empire! Both men, may well have known one another. Tacitus was a friend of Pliny, Pliny a patron of Suetonius and it is likely one influenced the other as they both came from high class backgrounds. Both wished to indicate how much better life was under their leaders by showing how bad things were in the past. Thus debauchery is often mentioned, much detail by Suetonius, less so by Tacitus. Claudius liked to stay at a distance from Rome and enjoy his sexual pleasures it appears. At times the tales sound like the 'News of the World,' not history. 

One or two major points arise from these books about Rome. One is the deep belief Romans had in their gods. Each day a victim, usually a bird, was killed and the liver examined for indications of how things would be for the Emperor that day. Personally I think killing that bird for that is offal. Rome depended on their gods, Suetonius in particular begins each ruler with a long description of the omens and signs that occurred on the day he was born. Eagles are seen perched on the houses, an earthquake would occur, lightning would strike a major building and so on. There must have been vast numbers of eagles and a dangerous amount of lightening in that part of the world in those days! It also explains why they did not understand the Jews who refused to burn incense to any emperor and did not accept their gods. This was made worse when Christians arrived and the belief was they were cannibals.Did they not eat the body and blood of their God? Both were considered superstitions by those who sought the oracles!

The other major thought was just how viscous a society reigned in Rome. Pax Romanus may well has allowed trade to continue but any crime (and no matter what class you were you could end up as a criminal) could take you to death, and that on a cross or in front of beasts in the arena! Gladiatorial contests were often to the death, and Claudius we read, enjoyed watching the loser die. Criminals could be scourged to death, and Roman citizens lost their heads publicly, an advantage of being a citizen! How thoughtful! People squabbled over seating arrangements, as the better classes wished to have the front seats to show their importance. Emperors and Senate discussed this often as self important men fought for position. Cruelty was part of their make up and if the situation required it an attack on a  fellow senator was used to have an enemy banished or forced to commit suicide. A great many ended this way as lies and deceit filled the rulers household. Rewards for those who informed were often great, although later their sin would find them out. A cruel society, quite happy to slaughter a whole town if they opposed Rome, and if feeling merciful the men would die and women and children sold into slavery! Touching really. 

Both books aid us to understand Roman attitudes, but it is important to also read the younger Pliny as he gives a senators view of life in Rome and incidentally tells us more of everyday life than these books reveal.

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Old Maps

Am I the only one who finds old maps fascinating? Shown here is a map of the South of Scotland, concentrating on Edinburgh and the Firth of Forth, but the date is difficult to establish. At 3/- a copy, (that's three shillings to young folks, OK, that's 15 pence to you very young folks), and 'cloth bound,' it was designed for those rich enough to possess a motor car which enabled the middle classes to join the toffs driving around the country. Such driving became popular in the 1920's and with cars (That's 'automobiles' to those in North America) being so expensive the working classes, who often drove lorries and vans for employment, could never hope to obtain a car of their own. Indeed in was only in the late fifties and early sixties that car ownership really became a possibility.

I love looking at such maps and pondering their date, and indeed the owners over the years. It is stupidly interesting to look at a map of the district from days of yore and compare them to the present day. For no good reason I can be excited by the residue of ancient pathways, buildings and workplaces that no longer exist in a manner that I cannot repeat for the buildings of today. Why this should be I cannot say, but there it is! There is of course a demand for these maps, they sell on E-Bay and online shops, and mine arrived via a local boot sale. I may peruse E-bay for a few days and hope for a windfall, or a couple of pounds anyway. 

I still do not understand the interest, but I enjoy perusing old maps. There was a badly made programme which featured one eccentric chap, brolly and all, wandering about following ancient maps and those who travelled on long gone roads. Had the programme been better made, and avoided his overacting and the cameraman's love of shaky camera and blurred picture,  it could have been very entertaining. All around us are ancient pathways that are still used today, In fact outside my window lies 'Stane Street,' so called after the Roman army used their technological expertise on it, although it must have existed for a long time before this, possibly some thousand or more years at that, as a thin winding track through the heavily wooded land. Roman roads themselves are often made from previous tracks, but our incomers military needs meant they just straightened out the bends and climbed straight over the hills! Today such roads traces can be see on Google Maps quite easily.

In Edinburgh a wander through Davidson's Mains leads to the public park at the end of the street. Few realise that the road ahead was once a busy drovers road and sheep and cattle would be brought from west and indeed from over the Forth in Fife along this ancient track. As kids we discovered a bit beyond the park an old bothy once used by such men as a night shelter. I wonder if it was allowed to remain when the expensive middle class houses were built in the sixties? It is knowing this that it is possible to trace the route once used by generation, on foot, bringing cattle to market from far away. History is on our doorstep. Thousands have passed this way before, although they probably drove a bit slower when oxen were pulling their carts!

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