Dominic Perring is ideally placed to write this major book that reconstructs the history of Roman London as far as can be done, for he has spent years excavating in that city, and has experienced the wider Roman world. It has 31 chapters, and takes stock of what has been discovered on a huge number of sites, more than 500 since 1990. Throughout the book the author puts the city into a wider context.
He starts with a brief review of past studies, and describes the natural topography of London before there was any settlement. London was founded as a Roman port from its beginning, and Perring discusses the recent discovery of possibly a huge fortified enclosure at the north end of London Bridge and suggests that it might have held a Claudian invasion force in 43. Then, around 52, merchants settled beside a grid of streets, centred on a gravelled market-place on Cornhill, opposite London Bridge. The status of London at this stage is considered, as is its destruction in 60–61 during the Boudican revolt which left a layer of debris from burnt buildings. This was followed by a recently discovered post-Boudican fort showing that military control was needed to help restore the city.
London was developed on a huge scale during the Flavian period (69–96), when shops, houses, streets and public buildings were erected. The public buildings included a modest-sized basilica and forum on the site of the market-place, an amphitheatre, and baths – the large one at Huggin Hill having three hot steam rooms. In the early second century a vast basilica, longer than St Paul's Cathedral now, and an extensive forum, replaced the earlier one, so that by the time of Hadrian's visit to Britain in 122, London was at the pinnacle of its growth.
Perring then tries to untangle the next 80 years, which form one of London's most puzzling periods, for it was transformed from a trading city of merchants – to what? It was ravaged by a massive Hadrianic fire c. 125–135, after which Perring suggests that the large Cripplegate fort was built, perhaps following the sacking of London in a British revolt. Then, about 165–180, London's population was greatly reduced, possibly due to plague, and instead of blocks of busy houses, shops and businesses, there developed a scatter of fine houses and other buildings with open spaces between on which there was a puzzling build-up of ‘dark earth’. Wealth was certainly there, but where did it come from?
Then, about 200, London began to be restored when a defensive city wall, over 3 km long, with a V-shaped ditch beyond, was constructed around only its landward side, enclosing 133 hectares. It had five main gates, and dating evidence suggests that it was built during the reign of Caracalla (198–217). Timber quays beside the River Thames were enlarged, monumental buildings were constructed, temples of Isis and probably Jupiter were restored, and the famous Temple of Mithras was built about 240, with sculptures of Italian marble.
Something curious happened in the mid-third century, for the riverfront quays were dismantled about 255 and a riverside defensive wall was constructed about 275–280. Clearly, London no longer relied on trade for it main income, so where was its income from? Perring suggests that this decline was partly caused by changes in the river level, though this was a period of decline in the trade of Roman Britain. London slowly contracted, though attempts were made to restore it. The basilica caught fire after c. 250, its roof collapsed and had to be repaired, and the amphitheatre may have been refurbished. London then became a seat of government in the late third century under the independent rule of Carausius and Allectus, when two great public buildings, possibly temples, were initiated.
When London was restored to the Roman Empire in 296 by the Emperor Constantius, it produced coins down to 325. But decline was slow and relentless, and its scatter of town houses was gradually demolished, as happened to the basilica about 300. So what does this say about how London was governed? London's decline during the fourth century mirrors other cities in Roman Britain, as threats forced it to strengthen its defences. Soon after 350, a number of D-shaped bastions were built against the outer face of the defensive wall, and beyond them was a U-shaped defensive ditch. Perhaps it was all constructed on orders from Count Theodosius in c. 380, but, curiously, this was only on the eastern side of the city, so does this represent an incomplete defensive work? Subsequently, streets ceased to be maintained, drains became clogged, and there is no certain evidence of house occupation beyond c. 380, though at the south-east corner of the walled city, in the Tower of London, has been found some defensive work built during or after 388.
London had become a deserted Roman city in the fifth century, and about 450 a visiting Saxon dropped a bronze brooch in the Roman ruins of a private bath at Billingsgate. Roman London had died, and a new Saxon London was soon to be born three miles to the west of the City of London at Aldwich.
The book ends with a list of the numerous sites referred to in the text, and there are extensive notes and a huge bibliography. A vast amount of work has gone into writing this book, and the author is to be congratulated on what has been a daunting effort. By introducing his interpretations and referring to numerous publications, he has opened the door to the possibility of further research and discussion by others. Four examples where further research is needed illustrate this.
The first is whether or not there was a Roman invasion camp in a.d. 43 at the very beginning of London, as Perring suggests. Certainly, there are V-shaped military-style ditches, but I think we need more evidence of date, extent and rather more military occupation debris before this is accepted, but Perring is right to suggest this possibility.
The second is to refer to the enigmatic ‘long walls of Knightrider Street’, whose purpose is unknown. These two straight Roman walls, almost 10 m apart, extend over more than 115 m. This suggests that they are part of a public building, and may have formed the north side of a circus. If so, where was its south side? And what was its date, for it overlies a pit with late first-century pottery, and pottery of the third–fourth century was dumped against its side. The walls need a detailed study in their own right.
The third relates to another enigmatic feature – the monumental public building complex by Cannon Street station found by this reviewer and interpreted as a palace. Later discoveries cast doubt on that interpretation, so what was it? Perring suggests that it was a huge public bath building, but as baths have extensive hypocaust heating systems, and as only one room has been found with this, this view seems unlikely. We are left with a great puzzle.
And finally, the purpose and date of the curious Cripplegate fort is considered in a whole chapter. Perring suggests that the Hadrianic fire that consumed London occurred in a.d. 125–6, and was the result of a British uprising against the Romans. The fort, he suggests, was built just after the event when troops occupied London, and adds to a growing list of possible explanations for its purpose: that the fort could have housed the military staff of the Governor of Britain, that it may have housed troops that controlled trade, and my own suggestion that it might have housed the Praetorian guard for Hadrian's visit in a.d. 122, for it was in use only for a short time. We simply do not know, and there are arguments in favour and against each proposal. So, however the presence of the fort is explained, Perring enables us to focus in on an important event in London's early history.
Dominic Perring has brought together an enormous amount of information and has drawn out many new threads of reconstruction that are essential reading for anyone studying Roman Britain. It should be read for alternative interpretations with Richard Hingley's study, Londinium: A Biography. Roman London from its Origins to the Fifth Century, published in 2018. It is interesting that both authors felt that now is the right time to take stock of what we think we know of Roman London, and is a vast step forward from when the first detailed assessment was made in the Victoria History of London in 1909. But it does leave us with many, many questions.
