Ways to Die in Londinium

by Caroline Lawrence

When I went back in time to look for the blue-eyed girl with the ivory knife, I never thought I would actually find her. The only reason I took the job was for the money. 

So starts my new book, in which a 12-year-old London schoolboy named Alex Papas is recruited to go back in time to Roman London to find a girl who lived in the mid-third-century AD. 

Why did I decide to leave my usual literary stamping grounds of the sunny Mediterranean and set some books in Roman Britain, specifically London? 

Because whereas Roman Britain used to be dull and dry – on account of very few written sources – the past decade or so has given us some superb material to work with. Recently, more than 14,000 individual artefacts were recovered in the restoration of the Mithraeum to its original site under Bloomberg LP’s new European headquarters. 

Also, scientific advances in DNA and stable isotopes means that archaeologists such as Dr Rebecca Redfern can study a skeleton and determine eye and hair colour, maternal place of origin and even where the subject grew up. 

In 2003, the grave of a 14-year-old girl was found on Lant Street near Borough tube station in Southwark, about half a mile south of the Tate Modern. Her grave goods suggested she was a rich girl. They included two small glass bottles and a clasp knife on a chain. 

The exotic ivory handle of the knife was carved in the shape of a leopard. Despite these rich objects, close study of her bones showed that the girl suffered from rickets, a disease often associated with malnutrition. Her teeth were very bad, too, and suggest that she was either a slave or grew up under hard conditions. Her skeleton is actually on display during free interactive sessions called Written in Bone for kids in Key Stage 2, i.e. aged 8-11. 

The so-called Lant Street Teen came into the headlines recently when her DNA and stable isotopes were analysed. They showed that she grew up in the Southern Mediterranean – possibly even North Africa! – and that she had blue eyes. Even more astonishing, archaeologists can tell that at the age of about nine she made the long and arduous journey to Britannia. Sadly, she died about five years later and was buried with her grave goods on an expensive bed of white chalk. 

I was intrigued by this discovery and thought it would be fun to imagine a scenario that might bring the blue-eyed girl from North Africa to Britannia and explain all the fascinating aspects of her bones. 

Around the same time, I attended the re-opening of London Mithraeum with its well-researched display of artefacts and spooky immersive experience. It occurred to me that it would be the perfect place for a time portal to the third century AD. That was when I decided to write my first timeslip book. 

In the book, originally called Ways to Die in Londinium, my main character Alex has been chosen to go back to Roman London for several reasons. First, he is small for his age and probably won’t hit puberty for a while. Why is this important? One of my contrivances is that for every hour you spend in the past, it takes a year off your life expectancy… unless you are a kid, in which case you only lose a month per hour. That’s why bazillionaire Solomon Daisy hires Alex to go back and find out more about the so-called Lant Street Teen. 

Second, Alex does Latin club at school and therefore knows some basic Latin phrases. 

Third, Alex speaks modern Greek, close enough to Ancient Greek to be just about understood. And Greek was a lingua franca at that time. 

I have a few other contrivances to make the book fun and exciting. For example, the three rules of Time Travel are:  

1. Naked you go and naked you must return. 
2. Drink, don't eat. 
3. As little interaction as possible.

Alex is clever and resourceful. He memorises a map of third-century Roman London and learns several useful Latin phrases such as puellam oculis caeruleis quaero et cultro eburneo (I seek a blue-eyed girl with an ivory knife.) 

Alex prepares in other ways, too. In the back pocket of his jeans, he has a small notebook. One of the page entries reads:

Ways to Die in Londinium:
1. Death by illness (no antibiotics)
2. Death by infected cut (no antiseptic cream)
3. Death by chariot (hit and run)
4. Death by starvation 
5. Death by choking (no Heimlich manoeuvre)
6. Death by fire (or inhaling smoke)
7. Death by rabid animal bite
8. Death by mugger
9. Death by rampaging gladiator

As Alex learns more about the perils of time travel he adds:

10. Death by misunderstood gesture
11. Death by transporting into something solid

And eventually:

12. Death by Angry Priest of Mithras
13. Death by Thames Foreshore Mud

That's only the beginning!  

As a student of history, I am constantly reminded of how blessed we are to live in a time of prosperity, leisure and superb medical care, especially compared to almost any previous historical period. 

On Wednesday 20 February and Friday 22 of the same month from 1-2pm, I’ll be doing two family-friendly interactive talks called Ways to Die in Londinium. 

I will ask kids to come up with some ways that a Roman Londoner might die. 

I will then show them some real and ancient (replica) artefacts and ask which would have been most valuable to an ancient Roman Londoner. 

I might also ask if they can guess which one of the following would have been worth its weight in gold?

Tomato
Chocolate bar
Alarm clock
Glasses
Mobile phone
Savlon
Puppy Soft Andrex 

Finally, I will read some passages from the first Time Travels Diary. 

I want to remind myself (and kids) just how privileged we are to be living today. 


Caroline's two halfterm events at the Museum of London are now sold out but there are other fun Roman-themed events including Styx, Stones and Roman Bones! 

Mysteries of the Roman Dead

by Caroline Lawrence

I have been obsessed with the ancient Graeco-Roman world for over forty years. I studied Greek and Latin at U.C. Berkeley and later at Cambridge and London. I have been writing historical fiction set in the Classical world for nearly twenty years. But the more I learn about the ancients, the less I feel I understand them. 

A free exhibition called Roman Dead currently on at the Museum of London Docklands presents a dozen ancient skeletons of Roman Londoners, as well as ashes of the cremated. There are tombstones, urns and grave-goods (personal objects buried with the dead). It may sound gruesome, but it’s utterly fascinating. The contents of graves from Roman London show us how much we still have to learn about the ancient Romans.

Here are five mysterious aspects of the exhibition that intrigue me. 

1. Why such a big sarcophagus? 

This is the star piece of the exhibition. Found a year ago (in June 2017) at a site on Harper Road in Southwark, this massive box (and lid) is made of limestone imported from Lincolnshire and weighs two and a half tons. Why put a body inside such a heavy stone box? To stop her spirit from haunting the living? To keep robbers from taking her jewellery? Or to stop grave robbers from doing something even worse? As dozens of surviving curse tablets show, many Romans believed in magic. In a recent blog post, Roman magic expert Adam Parker notes that witches used parts of dead bodies for their spells. So maybe this was a way of keeping the witches or sorcerers out of her grave, i.e. of protecting the dead from the living rather than vice versa.   Is that what’s going on here? Is this massive sarcophagus designed to protect the body from misuse or robbery? If so, it didn’t work. The heavy lid had been pushed aside and part of her arm is missing. A tiny scrap of gold hints that she was in fact robbed of jewellery. Creepily, the partial skeleton of a baby was found with her skeleton. Was it originally buried with the woman? Or did it fall into the sarcophagus when it was robbed? 

2. Why is her skull on her pelvis?

From a grave at Hooper Street near Tower Hamlets, we have the complete skeleton of a woman aged between 36-45. She was buried in a wooden coffin on a bed of chalk powder. Some time after she was buried, when she had started to decompose, someone dug her up again, removed the top of her skull and it placed above her pelvis. Then the coffin was reburied and rocks were piled on top. Among the rocks was a copper-alloy key. Was the key part of the reburial? Or accidentally dropped? Why was she buried on a bed of chalk? But most importantly, why was the top part of her skull placed over her pelvis?! Maybe the newly positioned skull, rocks and key (along with a ceremony we can’t guess at) were designed to stop the woman’s spirit from haunting those still above earth. Romans thought the womb was the seat of uncanny power. 

Listen to a commentary on this and other objects HERE

3. Why is the lucky amulet under a jug?

Also found at the Hooper Street excavations was a young woman in a coffin with jet jewellery. Whitby Jet is not a precious stone but rather ancient fossilised wood from the Jurassic era. When you rub it against wool it produces a static charge that can move hair and other small particles without touching theme. Romans didn’t know about static and believed jet to be a magical substance that could keep away evil. Romans also believed that you could do harm to someone just by looking at them a certain way, hence amulets with staring faces like that of Medusa to ‘reflect back the evil eye’. So a jet medallion of Medusa’s face will be doubly protective. So far so good. But why was this jet medallion hidden under a small ceramic flagon? What is going on here? In addition, her other items of jet jewellery were not on her but near her. Is this magic? 

Listen to a commentary about the lion HERE

4. Why a lion? 

In 1876, Victorian workmen found the remains of a semi-circular tower in the Roman Wall at Bishopsgate, near where the Gherkin stands today. These bastions were built in the 4th century using material from earlier Roman structures. Among the rubble used to build the tower was a stone lion devouring a stag. The stone is imported limestone from the South Cotswolds (London has no local stone) and was carved in the round, so perhaps stood atop a mausoleum. Why a lion? The museum label says the lion stands for the power of death, but I’m not buying it. Why pay a fortune for an expensive carved sculpture made of imported stone just to state the obvious? Could the lion be a warning to people or spirits who might want to do harm to the grave? If the lion is on MY grave, then it’s MY lion. That would be worth paying for. This lion devouring his prey reminds me of the ivory leopard handle of another Roman girl’s folding knife. This is MY knife and therefore MY leopard. Watch out!  

Pinecones for sale in Taormino, Sicily

5. Why a pinecone?

From Great Dover Street, Southwark comes a pinecone made of imported French limestone (shown in the picture above along with the lion). Similar pieces have been found on military sites from the North of England. Ever since I first noticed pinecones for sale in Sicily, I have wondered what they signified in the Graeco-Roman world. Actual pine cones and kernels were found on the site of London’s Mithraeum and also at Londinium’s amphitheatre, as well as at a cremation burial. It is thought that pinecones were burned as incense, perhaps to attract good deities and/or repel evil spirits. At the Roman Dead exhibition, the label suggests they were associated with the god Attis, who represented rebirth and resurrection. Was the pinecone the pagan equivalent of the Christian cross? 

All these mysterious objects remind us that although the Romans were like us in many ways, in others they were very different.

Roman Dead is on until the end of October 2018 at the Museum of London Docklands and it is free. The exhibition is interactive and multi-sensory, with incense to smell, rattles to shake and replica Roman objects to touch. There is even a family trail for kids 8 and older. Ask at the front desk for a free origami Quiz Machine. 

Roman London’s ‘Grey Gold’

Caroline Lawrence & Simon Elliott

an interview with Dr Simon Elliott 
by Caroline Lawrence

Last month I went along to the Guildhall Library to hear historian and archaeologist Simon Elliott speak about the origins of Roman London. Simon’s PhD thesis was on the sources and supply of Kentish ragstone from which London was built.  

He agreed to a quick email interview and kindly answered my most burning questions.

The Guildhall Library, London

Caroline: Simon, I loved your talk about early Roman London and how most of the post-Boudican public buildings were built of Kentish ragstone because London has no stone of its own, only gravel, flint and clay. You called the Kentish ragstone ‘grey gold’. What does that mean?

Simon: It references the enormous scale of this industry in the upper Medway Valley which for 200 years provided the principle building stone for Roman London. The men involved at the top end of that industry made huge profits, both for the Emperor and his Imperial fiscus and for themselves. The stone itself is a fine quality limestone which is both wearable and durable, so perfect for use in the built environment.

Caroline: You had the brilliant idea to use meticulously drawn Ordnance Survey maps from the 18th century to locate possible Roman quarries, and you found five of them in Kent. Which is the most exciting of these?

part of London's Roman Wall featuring ragstone

Simon: Of the five Roman ragstone quarries I located during my research, all of which are huge in size, that at Dean Street above Maidstone is exponentially large. Running for 2.5km, it has an area of 356,400 square metres and would be the largest man made whole in Roman Britain, matching in size any of the metalla across the Empire. It was so large it may have had a canal down the middle to facilitate the transport of the quarried stone down to the River Medway for onward transport to London.

Caroline: You mention ‘metalla’. What does that word mean exactly?

Simon: Metalla is a term used across the Roman Empire to describe all mining and quarrying enterprises, especially those larger in nature such as the ragstone quarries of the upper Medway Valley.

Caroline: The Kentish quarries were all located near the Medway, a river which flows into the Thames estuary. You believe the heavy ragstone was shipped to London on a boat like the famous Roman barge found near Blackfriars and excavated by Peter Marsden and his team in 1962. What was special about ‘Blackfriars 1’, as it is now called?

Alan Sorrell's painting of a Roman barge

Simon: The Blackfriars 1 ship was a ubiquitous type of merchant vessel (of various sizes but similar design) found across the North Sea and British Isles region, built in a North Sea tradition rather than Mediterranean.  Crucially it had high sides and a wide beam to help it ride out the rough waters of north western Europe, this also aiding stability when operating in a riverine environment such as the Medway with a heavy load. That excavated in 1962 was important for our studies as it featured a load of 26 tonnes of Kentish ragstone.

Simon Elliott gives a talk at Guildhall Library

Caroline: So Blackfriars 1 sunk with all that ragstone still on board? That’s a lot of rock. Are you a sailor yourself?

Simon: I wouldn’t call myself a sailor, but I have friends who sail and they have kindly taken me along the route of the boats carrying the ragstone to London. It is a difficult journey and I have the utmost respect for them.

Caroline: I also loved your breakdown of a possible ‘pecking order’ of the running of the mines:

• PROCURATOR METALLORUM
(not THE Procurator of Britannia but one of his right-hand men)
• CONTRACTORS 
(probably Roman citizens)
• SKILLED WORKERS 
(e.g. those made iron tools to extract and shape stone)
• OVERSEERS or FOREMEN 
(probably freedmen)
• PAID WORKERS from LOCAL POPULATION
• FORCED LABOUR (CRIMINALS & SLAVES)

Can you tell me a little more about the contractors?

Simon: The contractors would have been metalla mercantile specialists employed by the procurator metallorum to run the operation from top to bottom, though I believe the State may actually have employed the military to run the ragstone quarries.

Kubrick's vision of a Libyan quarry from Spartacus (1960)

Caroline: What about those lowest on the pecking order, the slaves and criminals? You mentioned the opening scenes of the 1960 film Spartacus which shows the terrible conditions of a Roman mine in Libya. Do you think this gives a good idea of what life for a slave or condemned criminal might have looked like in the Kentish quarries (apart from the blistering heat, of course)? 

Simon: I think if you were condemned to work in the metalla as a punishment, or as a slave, your life would have been brutal and short. We have skeletal evidence to show such workers suffered multiple injuries before dying a miserable death.

Caroline: You mentioned that some of the five Kentish quarries had Roman villas nearby, suggesting that mine operators got rich. But I thought most Romano-British villas didn’t appear until the 3rd century. Isn’t Londinium ‘built’ by then? 

Simon:  We have villas appearing in the Medway Valley from the later 1st century AD, and in fact across Kent the villa ‘peak’ was actually the 2nd century AD after which there is a steady decline. The region didn’t feature a late flowering of villa culture as for example found in the south west.

Caroline: Finally, you mentioned a book you are writing about Septimius Severus. Can you tell us the working title and what it will be about?

Simon: This will be called ‘Septimius Severus in Scotland: the Northern Campaigns of the First Hammer of the Scots.’  It will tell the story, in full book form for the first time, of the brutal Severan campaigns in Scotland in AD 209 and AD 210.


Caroline: Thanks very much, Simon. I am hoping to go along to your evening talk on Later Roman London and the End of Roman Britain this Thursday 12 October at 6pm.

Simon Elliott has written Empire State, about the Roman Army NOT fighting in Britannia. His previous book, Sea Eagles of Empire, about the Classis Britannica and the Battles for Britain, won Military History Monthly’s Book of the Year 2017! 

He also features on a couple of episodes of Dan Snow’s History Hit.

And look out for his new book on Septimius Severus in Scotland. 

The Blue-Eyed Roman Girl from Africa

by Caroline Lawrence

Sometimes it’s good for writers to have restrictions; it can make you more creative.

Yesterday I led a story-writing workshop in the Undercroft Gallery at the Guildhall Art Gallery, situated above London’s Roman amphitheatre. First I shared the simple seven-beat story-structure I use to map out every scene in my books and also for the overall arc of the story itself. I illustrated the seven plot beats via the first chapter of my first Roman Mystery, The Thieves of Ostia. 

Then I told the parents and children about an idea I’m working on now, the story of the 14-year-old girl who lived in Roman London in the 4th century AD. The so-called Lant Street Teenager, named after the modern part of London where her grave was found, was one of four skeletons sent to McMasters University in Canada for in-depth study of DNA, isotopes and pathogens. Rebecca Redfern of the Museum of London has written eloquently about this and the other three skeletons. 

Science has made astounding advances and we know the following things about the Lant Street Girl. 

- Her mother was from the eastern parts of the Roman Empire, perhaps Thrace or Dacia. 

- Initial tests showed the girl had blue eyes and blonde hair

- She spent the first ten years of her life in North Africa

- She came to Londinium when she was about ten

- She ate a diet of fish, grain and vegetables

- She died aged 14 of unknown causes

Pathogens in her bones tell us about her health.

- She had rickets, a childhood disease caused by lack of calcium or vitamin D in the diet.

- As a result of this disease she had bandy legs. 

- Like most Roman Londoners, she had periodontal disease and therefore probably bad breath. 

Her burial indicates that she was from a rich family. Grave goods found with the body include:

- Two glass bottles, possibly for perfume or unguent.

- A wooden box with ivory inlay including that of a goddess.

- An clasp knife with an iron blade and an ivory handle in the shape of a leopard. A small bronze key is attached to this knife by a bronze chain.  

There has been lots of talk about the ethnic diversity in Roman London and this girl is the perfect example. Her father might have been a dark-skinned African, an Egyptian, a Phoenician or even a Roman. We don’t know yet as we don’t have access to the father’s DNA. 

In my writing workshop yesterday we tried to come up with a story for the girl, whom I’ve provisionally called Dido as she might have come from Carthage in North Africa where other ivory-handled clasp-knifes have been found. (Dido was the beautiful Queen of Carthage who fell in love with the hero Aeneas in Virgil’s epic poem, The Aeneid.)

We brainstormed a possible story for the blue-eyed girl from Africa, based on the facts, and then used our informed imaginations to come up with possible ways she might have met her untimely end. 

Here are some ways a Roman girl could have died in Londinium:

1. Death by illness. 

2. Death by infection. 

3. Death by childbirth complications.

4. Death by fall.  

5. Death by drowning. 

6. Death by choking.

7. Death by murder, strangulation or poison for example. 

8. Death by starvation.

9. Death by runaway oxen 

10. Death by wild animal or feral dog.

11. Death by fire or smoke inhalation.

12. Death by curse or bad omen.

Over twenty children attended the workshop and I hope that some of them might write a story which they can enter in a competition like BBC’s 500 Words or Butser Ancient Farm’s Poetry competition. (Just put your story in blank verse for the Butser entry!)

I know that even if every child and adult who attended came up with a story, each would be different. That’s the joy of writing historical fiction!

I’ll be giving the talk again today (Wednesday 9 August 2017) at 2pm so if you live in London and love history, Romans or writing, come help me tell a story about the Blue-Eyed Roman Girl from Africa.

For more information about all the great events of the #Londinium Festival celebrating Roman London for three months in 2017, go HERE. 

Caroline Lawrence's Top Roman Sites in London

A few days ago, a fan of my Roman Mysteries books emailed to ask which places I would recommend for a visit to the nation’s capital. It’s a good question. London has been almost continuously occupied since the paleolithic period and is crammed with history including a myriad of goodies from the four centuries of Roman occupation. There is history everywhere, especially in the City of London, the square mile that is now the financial district but once housed the Roman fort and port. These are my top half dozen Roman-related sites. Incidentally, they are all free of charge! 

1. The British Museum 
If you only have time for one stop, make it this one. I use it as a kind of club to meet overseas visitors. I go there at least once a month and take fans to the Roman Life Room (69) and also room 70. If you have time, check out the Roman Britain room (49) & the Enlightenment Gallery, where you can touch an exact replica of the Rosetta Stone.
Tip: Go in the back way, via Montague Place; they are now doing bag searches and you will avoid the worst queues. 
Related blog: The Riddle of the Roman Vase

2. Museum of London 
London’s other great museum will soon be moving to Old Smithfields Market and might have a train passing through it. At the time of writing it is near St Paul’s tube station in the Barbican. There is a wonderful section devoted to Roman London. 
Tip: Look out for bits of London’s Roman wall outside and indeed, all over the City of London. Related blog: Visualising Roman London

3. The Victorian & Albert 
Did you know you can see Trajan’s column in London? It’s a plaster cast, but still gives you a good view and lovely detail. It was recently cleaned but reopened in December 2018 and looks better than ever. You can also see a life-sized plaster cast of Michelangelo’s David. Yes, it’s Renaissance not Roman, but still worth visiting. 
Tip: Visit the tea rooms across the courtyard and marvel at their beauty. 
Related blog: Trajan's Column at the V&A

4. Petrie Museum 
Not far from the British Museum in the maze of UCL (University College London) is this delightful gem of a museum. Egypt was important in Roman times and you can see many Roman era artefacts on display. Look out for ancient fabric, palm leaf sandals, charms for turning away evil and portraits of some Romans who lived there. It is open from 1-5 on Tuesdays through Saturdays.
Tip: combine this with a visit to the British Museum nearby. 
Related blog: Roman Egypt at the Petrie

5. The Thames Foreshore
If you are brave, descend steep steps on the north side of the Thames beside the Millennium Bridge. Wear Wellingtons or sturdy boots and gloves. Go at low tide and you will be amazed at the artefacts literally covering the foreshore, including lots of Roman brick. If you are very lucky you might find a Roman hairpin, votive figurine or coin. You can keep anything you see on the surface. This is called ‘Mudlarking’
Update: You now need a PLA permit to go on the foreshore. 
Tip: Don’t touch anything you pick up with bare hands until you’ve washed it. 
Related blog: Mudlarks on the Foreshore

6. The Roman Amphitheatre 
Like most of Roman London, the amphitheatre is underground, below street level. Access is free via a lift in London’s Guildhall Gallery. If you look across the guildhall courtyard you can see the location of the amphitheatre marked out in different coloured paving stones, like an intentional urban crop mark. Down below, only a few fragments remain of the stone amphitheatre that replaced the wooden one, but there is a stylised indication of seating and competitors.
Tip: Plan your visit to coincide with the next re-enactment of Roman games.  
Related blog: Gladiator Fun Facts

P.S. I have now added London's Mithraeum, a fab immersive experience. For more info, go HERE! 

Caroline Lawrence’s book The Roman Quests: Escape from Rome, is partly set in Roman London, AKA Londinium.