THE STORY ROMAN WALL BLUES Over the heather the wet wind blows, I've lice in my tunic and a cold in my nose. The rain comes pattering out of the sky, I'm a wall soldier, I don't know why. The mist creeps over the hard grey stone, My girl's in Tungria, I sleep alone. She gave me a ring but I diced it away, I want my girl and I want my pay. When I'm a veteran with only one eye, I shall do nothing but look at the sky ! What a right load of old Roman rubbish this is ! The Roman soldier who composed this - I wrote it down for him, because he cannot write - has nothing to complain about. His name is Romulus. He comes from what you would call Germany. He was not born with the name Romulus. He changed it. He was having bad luck. He prayed to a Roman god and his luck improved. So he changed his name, just to show how thankful he was. Stupid, if you ask me. And stupid and annoying he is ! He has, as I've said already, very little to complain about. The 'wet wind' has no chance of getting to him. He's on duty at the East Gate of the fort and spends most of his time in the gatehouse there. There's a fireplace in it and it's always warm. If he has got lice in his tunic, then tough. There is a bath house just outside the fort walls that he can use, but does not. He knows why he is a Wall soldier. He would have done anything to get away from his stinking little German village. His girl might be in Tungria, but he does not sleep alone. He's got a girlfriend in the vicus, just outside the fort walls, with a child on the way. Yes, he did dice his ring away. I was there and it was won by his best mate Lurio. NOW, if anybody has anything to complain about, it's me. And who am I ? I am Hardalio, house slave and general dogsbody to Marcus Quintus, the commander-in-chief of the garrison here at Vercovicium on the Wall. My master crossed the water from Gaul with Constantius. He was in the army that defeated the rebel Allectus. After this, he served for some time on the Welsh border, defeating the tribes there. Then he was posted to the Wall. I - being so necessary to the efficient running of his household - followed, with his wife and children. The family spent some time with relatives at Erboracum (York), before moving into the commander's house at Vercovicium. I have been a slave all of my life. I was born into the household of my master's father and passed to him when the old man died. The family moved to Vercovicium in what you would call the year 300. It was an easy journey on the road from Erboracum. We crossed the River Tyne on the bridge near the fort of Pons Aelius. My master stopped to dedicate an altar there to the god Oceanus and also to inspect the garrison of the fort. I walked over the bridge with my master's boys, to throw a coin into the river and ask Neptune for good luck. The only time I have seen my master moved to real anger, was on the part of the journey that took him past the fort at Brocolitia. He stopped there to visit the Temple of Mithras. It was in ruins. The altars had been smashed. Rebuilding work was just beginning. The commander of the fort told my master that the temple had been destroyed about four years ago, when the tribes of the North had attacked and broken through the Wall. My master was annoyed at the time taken to rebuild the temple. He had also heard rumours that the destruction was the work of local Christians, who took advantage of the troubles of 296 to carry out their unholy work. Whatever the cause, our arrival was not a good one. The fort at Vercovicium was in a state of uproar. Building work seemed to be taking place everywhere. The Wall was being strengthened and stores stockpiled. There was not enough room inside the fort to house the garrison and some soldiers had to live in the vicus. As I have said, luck was not on our side. The commander's wife spent the first two months getting the house to her liking - and the children were constantly under her feet. Have I told you about the children ? No ? Well, there were two boys. Marcus and Vinicius. Marcus was about 13 and his brother, two years younger. They were horrible brats, who had done their best to make life difficult for their Greek teacher at Erboracum. He got his own back on them when he discovered where they were going to live. He told them about the ghosts and werewolves that haunted the Wall and fed on children - especially boys ! The boys hardly slept at all during their first few weeks in the fort. They made daily offerings to the spirits of the place, on the altars in the entrance hall. They begged the spirits to keep them safe from ghosts and - especially - werewolves. Little Julia, their sister, who would have been 8 years old, was not so lucky. No-one was really sure how she managed to get into the yard that day. A soldier was having difficulty with a horse there. It reared up and she was hit on the head by one of its hooves. Julia never awoke from the sleep that she fell into. The surgeon was called from the garrison hospital. He stopped the flow of blood, but could do little else. The Greek doctor, Aurelius Egnatius Pastor, rode over from Vindolanda to treat her. Offerings were made to the gods. My masters wife, Aurelia, even got it into her head that we had somehow offended the local gods. We were strangers in their land, she said, and had not honoured them properly. She made a libation to them on the altar of the god Cocidius and ordered another altar to be made and dedicated to the local gods. All this had no effect. Julia died and the sound of weeping filled the house and a great depression was felt by all. The third day after her death, Julia was laid out for burial. A coin was placed under her tongue. She would need this to pay Charon, the ferryman who would carry her across the river of the underworld, to the kingdom of Hades. There was a moment of farce at the funeral. Her wooden coffin was to be placed inside a stone one. The stone one turned out to be too small and the wooden one would not fit inside it. The stone one had to be broken in half for the wooden one to be placed inside it. I was relieved when the burial took place. By Roman Law, Julia was buried outside the walls of the fort, beside the busy south road. Her gravestone is the one with the large pine cone carved on it. Many travellers comment on it as they pass by and they offer prayers for her. I have taken precautions for the time when I die. I am a member of a burial club. When I go, I will receive a proper burial and a stone will be raised to my memory. But enough of these awful things ! Julia's death happened five years ago and time has done much to heal the feelings of her parents, if not the behaviour of her brothers. And anyway, I cannot stand here gossiping all day. I have important business to attend to. I have to deliver a message and some sestercii to an officer, who should at this moment be in the bath house. ***** I left the commander's house and crossed the Via Princeps - the main road that runs through the fort and connects the north and south gates - to get to the East Gate. Romulus was on duty here and - as I have already told you - a cushy little number he has. One of the portals in the gateway had been blocked up to ease the control of traffic. Romulus - or Lupus as I call him (this really annoys him) - knows most of the people in the fort. He usually stands and warms his backside by the fire in the gatehouse, shouting greetings and instructions out to those entering and leaving. He wouldn't find it cold today, because apart from the fire, he was wearing the socks and underpants that he had received from 'his girl in Tungria' a few days ago. 'Busybody', he shouted as I passed. 'Still poking your nose into other people's affairs ? Where are you going ?' 'Official business', I replied and marched on through the gate. When Lupus is suffering from the effects of too much drink, he is even more unpleasant than usual. From the East Gate I could see that the Wall to the north was being strengthened against the barbarian tribes. At the Knag Burn, a new gateway was being built into the Wall to control and ease the flow of traffic northwards. There was a commotion down by this new gateway. A scouting party had just returned. There seemed to be more and more scouting groups heading into the north these days and not all of them returning with good news. Only last week, a scouting party had been ambushed by the northern tribesmen. Our soldiers made it back to the fort, with one casualty - Aurelius Victor, a cavalry man and only 22 years old. His uncle - also called Aurelius Victor - paid for a tombstone to be put up to him and for an altar to be dedicated to the veteres. Some of the stories that come back from beyond the Wall would make your hair stand on end. Soldiers have told me about savage warriors, who fight naked, worship strange gods and cut their enemies heads off. Having said that, many northern tribesmen actually cross the Wall in peace and bring goods to sell. Flavius, the Greek trader from Arbeia (South Shields), has been beyond the Wall many times on trading missions. Hermes the occulist has even treated native tribesmen in their own villages. The bath house to which I was heading stood by the stream at the bottom of the hill. My master was lucky enough to have his own personal bath suite in the commander's house. Lucky I say and lucky I mean. The baths for the garrison were small, mean and dangerous. I hear from veterans that they have twice burnt down within living memory. "Ai, Ai, Hardalio ! You want to swap jobs for the day or are you too high and mighty to talk ?" I just ignored him. He was Unthaus, one of the slaves responsible for stoking and keeping the fires going underneath the bath house. Scum of the earth some of these slaves. He was bought from a slave trader who came from beyond the Wall. He had been captured by a neighbouring tribe who had raided his village, taken prisoners and sold them as slaves. I entered the bath house and found Similis, the junior officer, dressing in the changing area and thanking the statue of the goddess Fortunata for looking after his clothes and valuables. I gave Similis the coins and writing tablet that I had been told to deliver. He broke the seal on the tablet and read it. It would seem that he was travelling to the fort at Coriosopitum the following day. He would visit Brocolita on the way. Next to the Temple of Mithras there was a well dedicated to Coventina, a local spirit. My master had lost a gold ring some weeks ago. The house had been searched high and low. My master wanted Similis to drop the coins down the well, as an offering toCoventina, in the hope that the spirit would help in the recovery of the ring. Personally, I think that my master should go for a good old fashioned curse. If the thief starts to feel unwell, then she - I did not say he, I have my suspicions - will soon return the stolen object. Do you know how to make a curse ? No ? Follow these instructions : I : Take a square of lead. II : Compose a suitable curse - MAY THE ENTRAILS OF THE THIEF PUTRIFY LIKE ROTTING BLOOD AND THE BRAINS OF THE THIEF BOIL AND MAY THE THIEF DIE IN A SEA OF AGONY. III : Write the curse backwards. IV : Get a priest to dedicate it. V : Drop it somewhere holy. For example, you could dedicate it to Neptune and drop it in the River Tyne or to Coventina and drop it sown her well. I know of someone who did this at Aqua Sulis (Bath) and put it in the baths there. I left the bath house and made my way up the hill, through the East Gate and back to my master's house. ***** As befits my master's rank, he has an imposing house. The house is built around a courtyard. A verrandah surrounds the yard and rooms lead of from it. We slaves live in the rooms above the stables. Ursa is personal slave to the mistress of the house. Greca is 'chief cook and bottle washer'. Pervica carries out general cleaning and washing duties. Pervica is one of the most difficult women in the whole of the Roman world to get on with. She comes from one of the barbarian tribes that live beyond the Wall. She was brought to us about 3 years ago. A raiding mission from one of the northern forts had captured her family. Her son and daughter were taken to work on one of the southern villas. She does not know where her husband is. At night, she still cries out in her sleep for her missing husband and children. I tell her to keep quiet. She could be in a worse household. What has she to complain about ? The household was in uproar and had been for the past few days. Our mistress was hosting a dinner party for the wives of the local commanders. She had already been to a party given by the wife of the commander at Vindolanda (a few miles from Housesteads) and was now planning one in return. The preparation of food seemed to be endless - corn, bacon, cheese, vegetables, soups, pasta with spices and herbs, beef, mutton, pork, wild boar, red deer, chicken, shellfish, oysters, whelks, goat, sucking pig, ham venison, vintage wine, biscuits ... Greca had her own special dish which you might like to try. FILL A SAUCER WITH MILK. PLACE SNAILS IN THE SAUCER. EVERY HOUR CLEAN AWAY ANY MESS AND REFILL WITH MILK. WHEN THE SNAILS ARE WELL FED AND TOO FAT TO GET BACK INTO THEIR SHELLS, FRY THEM AND EAT. Delicious ! Greca was too busy in the kitchen to practice what she was really good at - gossip - although she did manage to pass on the news that a messenger had arrived from the legionary fortress at Erboracum. He was staying at the mansio (inn) in the vicus and I was to collect him in the morning and bring him to the house. ***** The following morning did not quite work out as expected. I made sure that the boys were settled down to their studies. Old Zeus was what they called their tutor. He worked with them most mornings, being shared with the commanders house at Vindolanda. Greek tutors were difficult to obtain these days (although I would have said that Old Zeus was about as Greek as my big toe !). Anyway, under protest the boys settled down to their study of the language of the empire. Being soldiers sons they had to understand it. This morning they were studying a passage that had been written by Livy. "Go and announce to the Romans ... that the gods desire my city of Rome shall be the capital of all the countries of the world. To that end they shall cultivate the arts of war ... so that no human power shall be able to resist the military might of Rome." ***** The messenger from Erboracum had arrived early, so there was no need to collect him. Once he had finished meeting with my master, I was instructed to escort him back to the mansio. And this I did, although I shudder to think of it now. The mansio was situated in the vicus. In case you don't know, the vicus was the civillian settlement or town that could be found outside the walls of most large Roman forts. The girlfriends and families of soldiers lived there, although down at Vindolanda the vicus was being abandoned and the civilians moving into the buildings inside the fort walls. At Vercovicium the opposite was the case. The fort here was filled to capacity and certain soldiers - mainly the numerii - had to be housed in the vicus. There were workshops and shops in the vicus and a muddy, filthy, smelly place it was. I'll let somebody else describe it for you : "The vicus was one long, teeming, stinking maze of wine shops and baths and gaming houses, stables and granaries, woman's huts and small dirty temples to British and Egyptian, Greek and Gaullish gods." Rosemary Sutcliffe. Anyway, it was what happened after I had dropped the messenger at the mansio that made this such an unpleasant day. I am not really sure what I saw, but on the way back to the fort I stopped at the tanner's to check on some leatherwork that was being carried out for my master. This was not a pleasant job. The pools of stagnant urine that were used to treat the leather made this a place where you did not want to hang around for too long. Across the road from the tanners there were some shops. On the right was a butcher's or meat shop. On the left, there was a shop that was closed and shuttered. These shops had a verandah along their front. The shops opened to the street. Shutters were used to close the front up when the shop was not open for business. The owners lived in a room behind the main shop. As I have said, the shop on the left was not in use. As I looked across, I saw the shutter move to one side and a soldier come out. He looked apprehensive, almost as if he did not want to be seen. I waited a short time, crossed the street and put my eye to a hole in the shuttering. It was very dark inside. I could just make out a mound of earth on the floor and what looked like the fingers of a hand sticking out from it ! A hand grasped my shoulder. I jumped with fright. "Hardalio, slaves running errands should do so and not keep their master waiting." I turned round and looked into the face of Delfinus, a soldier. He was a notorious gambler and part-time friend of Romulus. "Just idle curiosity", I replied and turned to walk back to the fort. My heart was pounding. I made my mind up to return to the shop as soon as possible and discover the truth behind what I had seen. ***** The following day I did not get the chance to check my suspicions. It was busy in the commander's house most of the morning and the afternoon saw a certain amount of panic. The boys had been put under the charge of Bassus for the day. He promised that they could take part in some of the military training, especially the sword training for junior ranks. All soldiers in the fort went through a rigorous training programme - partly to prepare them for battle, but mainly I think to make sure that they did not get bored and cause trouble. All soldiers had to be able to swim and ride. That afternoon a section was going out beyond the Wall to a training camp nearby. Word came to the house that Marcus had been involved in an accident with a sword and had been taken to the fort hospital. The hospital building was near the house. I walked up the Via Princeps and turned left between the headquarters building and the granaries. I popped my head round the entrance to the great hall in the HQ building, just to see who was around. And it was there that I spotted the soldier who I had seen leaving the boarded shop yesterday. He was standing beside one of the administrative offices. There seemed to be some kind of argument taking place. I heard part of what the official was saying to the soldier. "It is sheer negligence. Don't give me your stories of an accident or poor workmanship in the blade. Accident or not, there will be a fine." The soldier turned away and started for the doorway. I stood back and hurried along the street. I had a feeling that it was best not to be seen. The hospital building stood opposite the West Gate. There was a courtyard in the middle of it, with a verandah all the way round it. The operating room, latrine, washing area and wards were connected to it. I found Marcus lying in one of the wards. He had a large dressing on his forehead and the surgeon was applying something to his ribs. It would seem that the two brothers had engaged in a pretend swrod fight with real swords. The surgeon said, "Hardalio ! I'm nearly finished. He has a graze on his head and sore ribs." The surgeon was smearing a mixture of goat dung and wine on the boy's ribs. On the way back to the commander's house, I was careful to avoid the HQ building and in the process was nearly run down by Salmanes. Salmanes was a Jewish trader. He was based most of the time in Arbeia and traded in the forts and settlements along the Wall. He seemed very agitated and was in a great hurry to leave the fort. "Out of my way, Hardalio !" "In a hurry to make money as usual", I replied. "My life comes before money", he said. "I must leave. My life is in danger. I know too much. The frontier is a dangerous enough place without murderers on the loose." He was almost hysterical and weeping. I sent Marcus ahead and walked with Salmanes to the West Gate........