I walked the length of Hadrian's Wall – and unearthed some secrets about Roman Britain

Telegraph

2 days ago

It's odd, the things you'll find along Hadrian's Wall. The Romans were obviously careless with their bits and pieces. During eight days of hiking and visiting local museums, I came across a chain-mail shirt, numerous scalpels, some cockfighting spurs, a wig made of moss and a dildo.
A generation ago, you'd have seen little of this. Back then, Hadrian's Wall was just a lovely, undulating ramble, with 17 forts, and 73 miles of intermittent masonry. In that sense, not much has changed. 'This is one of the UK's best walks,' says Will Ainslie of Discovery Travel. 'It's relatively easy, well-marked, and very dramatic.' There's also plenty of transport and accommodation, and I'd enjoy everything from a Georgian mansion to a shepherd's hut.
But modern technology has also opened up a more intimate Roman world. New techniques (including imaging and DNA analysis) enable archaeologists not only to find more artefacts but also to better appreciate their owners. The wall was once home to some 15,000 soldiers, and suddenly it begins to feel like some strange, elongated city, strung out across the hills. All sorts of secrets emerge, and – moving from east to west – here are some of my highlights.
Shoddy construction – and lewd graffiti
The wall wasn't quite as magnificent as people think. You get a first glimpse of it in Newcastle, at Segedunum; 50yd of tousled limestone. It only survived here because it collapsed, and sank into a swamp. If it was ever the standard 20ft tall, it's now barely shoulder-high, and the stonework is uneven and crude. Built by unskilled legionnaires, the entire wall was cobbled together in a mere six years (AD 122-128).
It did its job, I suppose. It was only meant to slow the advance of the marauding Caledones, and was never built to last. Indeed, only 10 per cent of it survives. But, as a feat of organisation, it was a triumph. The soldiers cut some 23 million facing stones, occasionally decorating them with swastikas (for the Romans, a symbol of prosperity) and phalluses (even today, some 57 penises survive. My favourite is inscribed 'Secundinus is a s--- bag').
An army of foreigners
Across the Tyne is an ancient supply base, Arbeia. It's famous for its superb reconstructions of a gatehouse, some barracks and a commander's house (useful when the ruins ahead look like diagrams in the turf).
But what really struck me was the foreignness of it all. The auxiliaries who manned the wall came from as far away as Iraq and North Africa.
Here, at Arbeia ('Home of the Arabs'), they enjoyed Spanish olive oil served on Italian slipware. But there were also Batavians, Frisians and Gauls, all bringing their own habits, languages and gods (Gallic gods, incidentally, are depicted with moustaches).
Among Arbeia's treasures is the tombstone of a British slave, called Regina or 'Queenie'. She was acquired by a Syrian called Barathes, who freed her, married her and set her up as a lady of substance. She is loved and remembered in two languages, Latin and Aramaic.
Life in the lavatories
Thirty miles on, you get to Chesters (near Chollerford). This fort's bathhouse is the best on the wall, a mind-boggling complex of hypocausts and classical plumbing. But what really interested me was the loo. As in all forts, it's a multi-seater affair, with a little channel for dipping your sponge. These places found the Romans at their most careless, and – in recent years – the drains have turned up coins, combs, amulets, sandals, children's shoes and even gaming counters. Perhaps the loo was the hub of life?
The 'nasty little Britons'
At this point, it's worth dropping down into the lush, green Tyne valley. It's postcard-pretty, and the fort of Coria (or Corbridge) was important for trade. Here, for the first time, you get a glimpse of the Britons.
The Romans were somewhat ambivalent about the natives. The local tribe, the Brigantes, were almost as unspeakable as the Caledones.
The Romans tried to appease them with their own god ('Brigantia') but often thought of them as Brittunculi or 'nasty little Britons'. However, like Queenie, some natives thrived, and, at Coria, there's a magnificent tombstone for a bearded Briton.
But things weren't always straightforward. Later (at Vindolanda Museum), I came across a British skull. Scientific analysis indicates its owner had been brought up locally, killed with a sword, and decapitated. His head had been placed on a pike, as a warning to others. What's odd about all this is his DNA: it reveals that his father was Roman.
A secret cult
After this, great chunks of wall appear, and the crags become ever more remote and magnificent. The troops called these wind-scoured moors Ad Fines (or 'The End of the Earth'), and sensibly, Rome allowed them to worship whatever they wanted. Finds up here have included a boar's tusk, a cache of children's teeth and numerous altars to a god from modern-day Turkey.
Most intriguing of all is a tiny temple deep in the grass, at Carrawburgh. It belonged to the secretive Mithras cult, which was popular with soldiers. In their cave-like temple, they'd experience pain and humiliation on the spiritual journey. No one knows quite what they believed except that, among their stonework, there's a giant ovoid, known as the Cosmic Egg.
Hadrian's whodunnits
Sprawled across a ridge is the most scenic fort of all: Housesteads. But amid the military grandeur, there's a hint of the darker side of Roman life. In the 1930s, two skeletons – one male, one female – were found under the tavern floor. As they'd been illegally buried, and the man had a knife in his ribs, the coroner declared them unlawfully killed circa AD 350.
Elsewhere, two other murder victims are now displayed in museums. Carlisle's Tullie House has the skeleton of man, tossed in a well, with a neat little slice cut from his head. Even more sinister are the circumstances surrounding a girl at Vindolanda. Analysis shows she was of Mediterranean origin and aged about 10. She'd been found bound and battered under the barracks.
Women on the wall
Vindolanda does have a more cheerful side. Thanks to its anaerobic soil, a remarkable world has been preserved. Recent finds have included the aforementioned wig and dildo, a hairnet, tankards, wine glasses (decorated with gladiators) and over 5,000 shoes.
Even better is the correspondence: over 2,400 messages written on slats. As head archaeologist Dr Andrew Birley explained, these things belie the myth of military sobriety and celibacy: 'They take us to places the Roman State would rather have hidden…'
Perhaps most surprising is the abundant evidence of women and children. They probably outnumbered soldiers. It's all here, everything from toy swords to make-up. Look out for the dinner service, ordered from Gaul, smashed en route, and tossed straight in the ditch.
The beginning of the end
Beyond the craggy, middle section, the wall peters out. Most of the masonry was plundered, creating a few new marvels like Lanercost Priory. But, in Carlisle, a milestone has survived (again, at Tullie House). It celebrates Carausius, who seized Britain in AD 286 and declared himself emperor.
After his assassination, he was airbrushed from history, and the milestone was turned upside down and re-inscribed. But Rome never truly recovered. The milestone marks the beginning of the end, for both the wall and the empire.
John Gimlette travelled as a guest of Discovery Travel