Malton Museum celebrates its 90th birthday this year. Much of our archaeological collection comes from excavations undertaken at the site of Malton Roman Fort, Langton Villa and Crambeck in the 1920s and early 1930s, but local people had been interested in the history of the area long before that.
It is known that an inscribed Roman stone from Malton was shown at the Royal Society in London in 1755, and by the 1880s, Malton Field Naturalists and Scientific Society was established. They collected fossils, geological and natural history specimens, along with some archaeological items. A small selection of these were displayed in cases in part of the Subscription Rooms. Much of their collection was given to Hull Museum in 1932; but the archaeological objects they had acquired became part of the new ‘Roman Malton Museum’, opened in 1935.
One such artefact is this patera found in Malton. Trajan’s column in Rome depicts soldiers carrying these objects, thought to be their mess tins or saucepans. Made in Italy, of copper alloy, it has its maker’s name – Alpicus – punched into it. What makes it even more special is that it also has a second name – Lucius Servenius Super- believed to have been its owner, punched into the handle.
A rare survival
It’s quite rare to know the name of an individual Roman soldier.
The paterna bears the name of its maker but also its owner
Where did Lucius come from? How long was he stationed in Malton and how did his pan come to be left here? Did most soldiers put their name on their kit in the way that we might label our belongings today?
There’s lots we don’t know about the patera, but we recently discovered more about how it came to be part of our collection.
Records show that it was donated to Malton Naturalists Society by William I’Anson, a racehorse trainer who lived at Highfield in Norton. From newspaper reports we know that he purchased it at an auction of local antiquarian George Edson’s private collection in May 1891.
George Edson came by the patera in an interesting manner. It was uncovered in 1877/8 by workmen at Malton Gas Works. Knowing that he was a collector of such items, the workmen visited Edson’s home one Sunday evening, agreeing to sell it to him for the price of half a gallon (4 pints) of ale, a cost of around one Bidding at the auction was competitive and so William I’Anson paid substantially more for Mr Edson’s one shilling purchase; a hammer price of £5 15 shillings! We are very grateful for his foresight and generosity which means we still have this important and fascinating object in our collection today.
Face pots are among the most intriguing, yet least understood, forms of Roman pottery. Prior to Gillian Braithwaite’s 1984 and 2007 research, they had received little attention. Face pot sherds are not in themselves uncommon, but there are relatively few surviving complete pots. As with most surviving Roman pottery, they are usually discovered at burial sites. Not all cultures produced them, and even then not throughout all periods; although the idea of anthropomorphic pottery is thought to be as old as pottery itself. Roman face pots are usually categorised as belonging to one of three groups: head pots, face pots or face flagons.
Mediterranean origins
A replica face pot from Malton Museum’s handling collection
Roman face pots originated in the Mediterranean area as face beakers. These were the size of drinking vessels with the face ‘mask’ itself covering much of the pot surface. As the empire expanded, face beakers travelled north with the armies, eventually merging with the larger iron-age face-urn and face-jar traditions of the Rhineland where the face is situated on the upper shoulder area of the pot just below the rim.
The facial features were applied to a traditional cooking pot or storage vessel. Faces were rarely painted directly onto the pot itself; although Malton Museum does have a face pot sherd where this is the case. Gillian Braithwaite suggests a painted face on a vessel of this size is unique.
The Roman face pot arrived in Britain with the legions during the first half of the 1st century and continued into the 2nd and 3rd centuries. Face pots maintained a strong military connection throughout their usage. Consequently, Roman face pots are generally found in the footsteps of the army and are associated with the eastern and northern regions of Britain. If found elsewhere they can usually be traced to an original army presence.
Roman Head Pots
A painted face pot
Like the face pot, the head pot is generally found in eastern and northern locations where the Roman military were present. Arriving in Roman Britain around the 3rd century, head pots share some clear similarities with the face pot, it also exhibits a number of differences.
Whereas the face pot is generally a domestic vessel with facial features applied to, or carved into it, the head pot took the deliberate form of a human head with the features formed from the pot fabric itself; often pushed through from inside the pot using exterior moulds. These facial features tend to be more realistic and classical, closer to the style of earlier Greek pottery. As the head pot evolved in Roman Britain its features took on the less classical appearance of the face pot. In fact Braithwaite refers to what might be called hybrid pots where the face ‘mask’ itself is formed in the manner of a head pot, but using vessels that are closer to those of face jars.
In the Yorkshire area Braithwaite suggests this hybrid form, with its almond-shaped eyes, became halfway between a face pot and a degenerate copy of a head pot and subsequently could be described as either.
Roman face flagons
Roman face flagon
The face flagon emerged at around the same time as the head pot but, like the face pot, was a conventional vessel (in this case a flagon, with or without handles)
with a complete face ‘mask’ added. The face mask itself is usually taken from a mould and applied to the upper neck, often raised above the rim of the vessel itself. The face is almost always female. Perhaps, in the view of some researchers, connected to female divinities such as Venus and emphasising the aspects of fertility and birth.
Whose faces are they and what were the face pots used for?
It is unusual for Roman pottery to be modelled by hand, as is the case with face pots, although the potter seems not to have been free to randomly create an image of their own choosing, but rather to have followed a stylised and schematic tradition. Pottery-kiln researcher Vivien Swan suggests some form of pattern book might even have been used.
It is generally accepted that Face Pots and Face Beakers, with their strong military connections, have a religious significance and are references to Bacchus; although the sheer variety of faces seems to rule out an attempt to portray any one particular deity. The fact that as many as 50% of finds in some areas are related to burials reinforces the religious connection, but even where domestic finds outnumber those in religious buildings it should be remembered that in Roman society houses, and even some individual rooms, had their own shrines.
Braithwaite suggests that as the head pot and face pot developed separately, with the head pot found less frequently in domestic contexts, the two probably had different uses and served different purposes. The face flagon may have a different use yet again. It may be too simplistic to assume that because pots share the portrayal of facial features they must have a similar use or meaning.
Connections to smith gods – deities of metal-working
The face pots’ religious connection is supported by discoveries of face pots bearing symbolism linking them to smith gods. In common with most ancient cultures the Romans honoured a deity of metal-working – a smith god. Some Roman pottery carried representations of metal-working tools (such as hammers, anvils or tongs). The Romans were usually quite prepared for their gods to be assimilated with local deities, in this case the Celtic smith god with the Roman god Vulcan. In the Malton area particularly, pottery was made with both face ‘masks’ and representations of smiths tools applied to them. The practice of votive presentations to gods in this way, especially when appearing on the same pot, re-enforces the religious significance of face pots.
Any attempted explanation of the identity of the face pot faces, or their intended purpose, remains an educated conjecture. Unless there is a discovery of further evidence we may never know for certain; but, in the words of Gillian Braithwaite, ‘maybe one day’.
If you have enjoyed reading this blog, why not support the museum by making a donation? Donating allows us to care for our collections, find new ways to share them with the public and to keep opening Malton Museum.
As we work towards funding and developing this site, we are keen to hear your thoughts on what a new museum should include. We have put together an online consultation with questions about the facilities, content and spaces a museum should have.
You can also drop into the museum and fill out a paper version in normal opening hours (Thursday – Saturday, 10:30 – 3:30) or come and talk to us at a number of events.
Malton Open Stables, Sunday 8 September
Malton Food Run, Sunday 15 September
Malton Library October half term dates TBC
St Clement’s Festival, Malton, Saturday 23 November
The consultation will remain open until the end of December 2024 and we are keen to hear from as many people as possible.
The Roman Theatre of Petuaria has so far been difficult to find, however according to The Petuaria Inscription it did exsist, and this stone was found on Burrs Playing Field in Brough, East Yorkshire.
Ptolemy, the 2nd century Roman geographer was the first writer to mention the town of Petuaria. He located it within the territory of the Parisi tribe – modern East Yorkshire.
The subsequent association of Petuaria with Brough-on Humber rests largely on an inscription unearthed in 1937 on the Burrs Playing Field. According to the excavator it was found ‘lying on end, as if it had fallen from a building when it collapsed, and showed no signs of having been re-used‘. This carved stone – that can be viewed in the Hull Museum – is illustrated in Figures 1 below and 2 above.
Figure 1: The Petuaria Theatre Inscription
Parts of the inscription are damaged but, it is suggested that the full Latin text (with the addition of missing elements in square brackets) was as follows.
OB.HONOR[EM]
DOMVS DIVI[NAE]
IMP.CAES.T.AEL.H[ADRI]
ANI.ANT[O]NINI A[VG]
P. P. COS [ ? II or III]
ET.NVMINIB.A[VG]
M.VLP.IANVAR[I]V[S]
AEDILIS.VICI.PETV[AR]
PROSCAEN [ ̣ ̣ ̣]
DE.[S]VO [DEDIT]
The Translation is:
For the honour of the divine house of the Emperor Caesar Titus Aelius Hadrianus Antoninus Augustus, father of his country, consul for the ?2nd/3rd time, and to the Divinities of the Emperors, Marcus Ulpius Januarius, aedile of the village of Petuaria, presented this stage at his own expense
Roman inscriptions have many characteristics in common. A typical form commences with the name of the person or persons to whom the dedication is made in addition to relevant details about them. Following this information is often provided explaining why the inscription was set up and by whom.
The Brough stone indicates that the inscription was dedicated to the Emperor Antonius Pius (138-161) providing his full name – IMP. CAES. T. AEL HADRI-ANI. ANTONINI. The letters AVG (Augustus), P.P (Patris Patriae – Father of his Country) and COS (Consul) furnish further details about the Emperor`s titles and honours acquired over the years and are very helpful in dating such inscriptions (in this case to between AD 140 and AD 144). The dedication was also made `ET NVMINIB AVG` – to the sprits of such former emperors as have been judged worthy of deification and memory.
The inscription then goes on to explain that a stage (proscaenium) was given by Marcus Ulpius Januarius at his own expense (de suo). There seems to be a missing word after PROSCAEN, and it is suggested that this could have been NOVUM (new) – in other words a new stage implying a replacement for something earlier.
Marcus Ulpius Januarius was a Roman citizen as indicated by the three elements of his name – a praenomen (Marcus), a nomen (Ulpius) and a cognomen (Januarius). He would have been given the name Marcus at nine days old and this, together with the `clan name` or nomen, Ulpius, shows that his family had first been granted citizenship under the Emperor Trajan (AD 98- 117; full name Emperor Marcus Ulpius Trajanus). Cognomens -such as Januarius – were originally a sort of family `nickname` passing down from father to son but, over time, they were used to augment the nomen, to identify a particular branch within a family or a clan.
On the inscription Marcus Ulpius Januarius is described as an aedile – or magistrate – for the vici (village) of Petuaria. In this position he would have been concerned with the maintenance of public buildings and amenities such as roads, drains and baths in addition to public order. It was a significant role that seems more important than would be expected for an official in a mere `village`. With this in mind it is suggested that the `C` in the left hand pelta of the inscription is not simply decorative but stands for `Civitas` with a missing `P` on the right side for `Parisiorum`. Marcus`s responsibilities might have extended beyond Petuaria covering the rest of the territory of the Romanised Parisi tribe too and even as far as Malton.
Figure 3: 2018 GPR survey of Burrs Playing Field, Brough
Today the key challenge remains finding any archaeological evidence for the theatre that Marcus supported back in the second century. Considerable excitement was generated by a ground-penetrating radar (GPR) survey undertaken in 2018 showing a D-shaped feature (marked G on Figure 3) within the same field that had produced the inscription. But, after two summers of excavations over the `D`, the theatre remains elusive albeit with some intriguing finds including an oyster shell adorned a chequer board and diamond pattern (Figure 4). Perhaps further work over the next few years – in Brough and the surrounding area – might finally solve the mystery of the missing theatre.
Between 1949 and 1952 a series of excavations were undertaken in the southern area of Orchard Field. A key discovery by the archaeologists was a substantial building termed – at the time – the Malton ‘Town House’.
This structure stood at the edge of a cobbled area 7.5 metres from the road leading out from the main south-east gate of Malton fort (Porta Praetoria) down towards the river. The imposing façade of the building facing the road was constructed from large, shaped blocks of locally quarried stone.
A 1.8-metre-wide doorway – most likely with a porch – led into an enormous hall (15 metres by 7 metres) with a mortar floor. At the northeast end of this hall were three heated rooms with hypocausts. The largest of these contained a beautiful mosaic and the entrance was probably adorned with carved lintels in the form of winged victories. An archway would have connected the mosaic room to a very fine end-apsidal room furnished with an opus signinum floor.
Figure 1 – Opus signinum flooring
The word `opus` (Latin for `work`) is attached to various types of floor or wall coverings. Opus signinum is made of tiles broken up into very small pieces, mixed with mortar, and then beaten down with a rammer (Figure 1). Opus tessellatum refers to the normal technique of mosaicing, using pieces of stone or tile (tesserae) around 5mm to 10mm across.
Figure 2 – Town House Mosaic
The overall mosaic design within the Town House comprised three fields: a central square flanked by rectangles. Originally the two oblongs would have illustrated the four seasons with an animal between each pair of figures. But only the panel of winter, a running hunting dog and a partially destroyed image of a leaping deer remain. A twisting pattern of multicoloured strands (guilloche) also surrounds the central square, the rectangles and the end panel illustrations (Figure 2).
The Town House mosaic has been described as well executed with artistic merit. Illustrating animals or faces were particular challenges requiring smaller tesserae (typically cubes of 4mm or less) and much greater technical skill to place or to shape pieces. Opus vermiculatum (meaning `worm-like work`) is a method of laying mosaic tesserae to emphasise an outline around a natural subject. Often it was produced in workshops in relatively small panels that were transported to the site glued to some temporary support.
Figure 3 – Beadlam Villa Mosaic
An intriguing feature about the Town House mosaic are the similarities of design between this mosaic and other nearby examples found within the villas unearthed at Beadlam and Brantingham (Figures 3 and 4). Every Roman mosaic is unique but, in common with Malton, the two villa mosaics utilise the same overall geometric design with end rectangular panels and a central square. They make liberal use of a multicoloured guilloche pattern too.
Figure 4 – Brantingham Villa mosaic
It has been suggested that mosaicists – musivarii – worked at various locations within specific geographical areas perhaps associated with mosaic schools (officina). A musivarus supervising the laying of the laying of a mosaic may have been executing schemes adapted by a designer from a pattern book. The stylistic similarities of the mosaics from Malton, Beadlam and Brantingham have been linked to an officina based in the Brough/Aldborough region (the Isurian- Petuarian Officina).
Figure 5 – Portrait of a female figure
The walls of the mosaic room in the Town House at Malton had also been re-plastered and re-painted at least three times. The surviving impressionistic portrait of a female figure with brown hair, dark eyes looking to the left and a distinct white nimbus surrounding the head is stunning (Figure 5). An image of a bearded male with a stave, possibly Jupiter, is surrounded by a rich red border (Figure 6).
Figure 6 – Portrait of Jupiter
According to Diocletian’s price edict of AD 302 a wall painter was paid three times more than a mosaic worker. Also, the costly cinnabar used for the red pigment in the Malton paintings would have been brought in especially by the owner of the Town House for the artist – probably from Spain.
Thirty miles west of Malton is the small village of Aldborough. Nowadays few people will stop off as they race north along the A1 but, eighteen hundred years ago, this was the site of the important Roman town of Isurium Brigantum.
Isurium Brigantum was located at a key intersection between the Roman road of Dere street with the River Ure and was probably founded at the time of the Roman campaigns into Brigantia by Petillius Cerialis (see our Petillius Cerialis post). The Roman road leading out from the South-West gate of Malton fort (Porta Principalis Dextra) would have afforded direct connections to both York and Aldborough.
Figure 1 The town wall
Traditionally it had been thought that Isurium was first constructed as a fort before becoming the administrative centre for the Romanised Brigantes. However recent work by Martin Millett and Rose Ferraby (University of Cambridge) is challenging this view.
Figure 2 Interval tower
It now seems more likely that the Isurium started life as a smaller civilian settlement that initially prospered through supporting the early military campaigns across Yorkshire. Undoubtedly there would have been a close relationship with the nearby Roman fort at Roecliffe, but Isurium also served as an important location for those seeking accommodation, provisions or repairs as they headed further north.
Figure 3: Corner tower
The Roman fort at Vindolanda (just south of Hadrian`s Wall) is renowned for the discovery of hundreds of postcard-sized wooden-leaf tablets covered in cursive Latin ink writing. They are a rich source of information about life on the northern frontier of Roman Britain during the late 1st century and one of them specifically mentions Isurium. This tablet itemises expenses for food, wine, grain, clothing, accommodation and carriage parts (axes carrarios).
Figure 5 Column bases
Subsequently, as Hadrian`s Wall was being built, Isurium developed into a planned civilian town with a street grid, becoming the official centre of the Brigantes tribe (termed a civitates). In common with other civitates – such as Wroxeter, Leicester, Silchester, Cirencester and Caerwent – several public buildings were constructed including a forum, basilica and bathhouse in addition to some grand private houses and possible temples. Like Silchester and Cirencester, Aldborough boasted sewers and an amphitheatre too. By the late second century the town was also surrounded by stone walls incorporating four principal gateways.
Today there is still much to see of Roman Aldborough including walls, mosaics and numerous finds. It is best to start a tour at the newly refurbished museum before exploring the southern stretch of defences, incorporating an interval tower and a corner tower (Figures 1, 2 and 3). The walls were constructed using sandstone blocks taken from the neighbouring quarries that can still be seen – probably the best-preserved Roman quarries within Great Britain (Figure 4).
Mosaic in situ
Beyond the quarries a short walking route turns north following a Victorian promenade along the line of the Roman wall and beside a developing Roman garden feature. One of the particular delights of exploring Aldborough is coming across various architectural remenants lying around such as column bases and altars, presumably from grand public or private buildings (Figure 5). Evidence for the splendour of the Roman town houses is also provided by the mosaics housed in two small buildings in a nearby field (Figure 6). Another mosaic from Aldborough representing the wolf and twins can be viewed in Leeds City Museum.
The Roman god Mercury
Before leaving Aldborough it is worth popping into the Church of St Andrew to examine the statue of the Roman god Mercury on the north-west wall that probably came from a nearby temple (Figure 7). The earth banks of the amphitheatre – one of the largest in Britain – can also be seen across the fields to the left as you head out of the village along the York Road.
Three hundred years ago it was suggested that a Roman road – Wade’s Causeway – ran from Amotherby over the Vale of Pickering and the North Yorkshire Moors towards the coast. There is also a long-held view that this military way traversed Fort D at Cawthorn and then descended from the escarpment, on which the Roman earthworks sit, to the valley of the Sutherland beck
In 1817 Rev. George Young, a local pastor wrote a ten-page description of Wade’s Causeway in his ‘History of Whitby‘ clearly describing the onward route between Cawthorn and the Roman Fort at Lease Rigg. But he also commented how ‘it is almost enough to break the heart of an antiquary, to see a monument that has withstood the ravages of time for sixteen centuries wantonly destroyed‘ to build banks or to repair ‘contemptible by-roads‘.
Figure 1 – view of the possible Roman road crossing Wheeldale Moor
Nowadays a surviving one-mile stretch of this structure can easily be followed across Wheeldale Moor. It consists of flagstones seated on a cambered base of soil, clay, peat, gravel and loose pebbles forming a raised embankment varying between 5.4 and 6.7 metres wide. It is also crossed by a dozen small culverts and, in some parts, edged with kerbstones of upright slabs (Figure 1).
But is it really Roman? Some archaeologists have suggested that it could be a medieval road or a more ancient boundary feature. Aside from some pottery no Roman objects have been found on or near the structure across Wheeldale Moor. Also, a stone burial cist set into one side of the monument most likely pre-dates the Roman occupation (Figure 2).
Figure 2 – stone burial cist alongside Wade’s Causeway
Others have expressed concerns that it might have been ‘Romanised’ and ‘re-constructed’ by a local gamekeeper, James Patterson, who removed the peat thereby revealing the stones at the beginning of the last century. However, a careful assessment of Wade’s Causeway by Hayes and Rutter in 1964 concluded that it was a Roman road based on the following key findings:
Figure 3 – sandstone slabs forming part of Wade’s Causeway
The raised and cambered embankment (agger), providing a well-drained road foundation
The substantial layer of rough sandstone slabs (Figure 3)
The kerbstones (Figure 4)
The evidence of a surface layer of gravel
Figure 4 – The kerbstones edging Wade’s Causeway
Also, a century before James Patterson’s work, Rev. George Young wrote that ‘the foundation is usually a stratum of gravel or rubbish, over which is a strong pavement of stones, placed with their flattest side uppermost, and above these another stratum of gravel or earth to fill up the interstices, and smooth the surface. To keep the road dry, the middle part has been made higher than the sides; and, to prevent the sides from giving way, they are secured by a border of flat stones placed edgewise’.
Admittedly some of the culverts crossing the road appear modern as do the ditches running alongside (Figure 5). There are also occasional ‘gaps’ where the structure crosses several streams but, perhaps, the gently rising banks at such locations originally bore wooden bridges (Figure 6).
Figure 5 – Culvert on Wade’s Causeway
Finally, if the monument on Wheeldale Moor is, indeed, Roman then was it constructed as a component of the early military campaigns across the North and/or to facilitate troop movements between Malton Fort and the coastal fortlets in the fourth century? There is no clear answer to this, and it has even been suggested that it was used by jet traders too.
Figure 6 – Suggested location for a wooden bridge on Wade’s Causeway
Wade’s Causeway is an intriguing monument and considerable controversy still shrouds its origin and purpose. Local legend also tells of a giant named Wade who once lived in the area. He is said to have built the road for his wife, Bell, to herd her sheep along en route to the moorland pastures or to market.
Orchard Fields is regularly used by locals and visitors, and although it does have some impressive earthworks, most people would find it hard to know how Malton Roman Fort was laid out, read on to find out more.
What is still visible today – in Orchard Fields – are the remains of the defences of an 8.5-acre fort that was originally built in timber at around AD 79 during the governorship of Agricola. It is strategically very well-placed affording extensive views over the Wolds, and, on a clear day, it is still possible to see Seamer Beacon (a probable Roman site) just west of Scarborough.
The timber fort would have had a 5-metre-high walkway and was surrounded by a single ditch. Twenty-five years later the ramparts were rebuilt in stone with new double ditches being dug further out from the walls while the original inner ditch was back filled.
Figure 1 – Philip Corder`s 1920s plan of Malton Fort
Figure 1 is a plan of Malton Roman Fort drawn by the archaeologist, Philip Corder, following his series of excavations in the 1920s. A contemporary photograph along trench 5 on the plan (Figure 2) clearly shows the stone north-east wall (in the centre of the picture) with the ditches further out towards the railway.
Figure 2: Trench 5 looking north-east
In common with most Roman forts Malton conformed to the classic playing card shape: a rectangle with rounded corners. It also had four entrances with the main gate (porta praetoria) being within the south-west rampart of the fort, enjoying road connections with York, Brough and Stamford Bridge. At the opposite side of the fort was the back gate (via decumana) leading to Hovingham and Whitby.
Two roads were central to the internal layout of any Roman fort. The via praetoria ran north-west from the main gate to join the via principalis in front of the headquarters building (principia). At either end of this were two further gates – the porta principalis sinistra and the porta principalis dextra – leading to Scarborough/Filey and York/Aldborough respectively.
Figure 3: Reconstructed wooden gate at Lunt
Figure 4: The North Gate of Cardiff Castle
The porta principalis sinistra (North-East Gate) was carefully excavated by Philip Corder in the 1920s. Originally it was a double portal wooden structure similar to the modern example that can be viewed at Lunt (Nr Coventry) (Figure 3). When the fort walls were rebuilt in stone this entrance was reformed as single inner and outer arches accommodating a central chamber flanked by two guard rooms. A good reconstruction showing what the first stone structure might have looked like can be seen at Cardiff Castle (Figure 4). Subsequently this gate went through several further modifications possibly including repairs by the rebel Emperor Carausius. [See Malton blog: https://www.maltonmuseum.co.uk/2021/01/11/carausius/ ]
Figure 5: Interpretation of geophysical survey data from Malton Fort
Figure 6: Apsidal building (A), showing earlier rectangular building (B) beneath
To date little digging has taken place inside the fort but geophysical surveys have identified probable barrack blocks, workshops, stores and granaries in addition to the principia (Figure 5). However, some limited excavations just inside the north-east wall of the fort in the 1920s found an oven and a late Roman building with an apse (Figure 6). Whether this apsidal structure was a domestic building, a public building or an early church remains uncertain.
Fortlets might not sound like they are really up to much, although these strategic defences were very well built structures that were essential in defending Roman Britain from many attacks.
During the late 4th century Roman Britain was being attacked from land and sea by the Picts, the Attacotti, the Scots, the Franks and the Saxons. The historian Ammianus Marcellinus paints a picture of a chaotic situation with bands of raiders wandering around unchecked, taking prisoners and loot where they fancied, and destroying or killing at will.
In AD 367 the Emperor Valentinian dispatched a task force to try to get a grip on the situation, placing Theodosius (the father of the future Emperor Theodosius the Great) in command. Ammianus Marcellinus wrote that, on his arrival, Theodosius ‘rendered the greatest aid to the troubled and confused fortunes of the Britons’ including restoring ‘cities and garrison towns…and protected the borders with guard-posts and defence works’.
Figure 1: Inscription from Ravenscar
Along the Yorkshire coast a system of fortlets (often referred to as `signal stations`) were constructed. Archaeological remains of such structures have been found at Scarborough, Filey, Goldsborough and Huntcliffe. In 1774 a tablet was also discovered at Ravenscar bearing an inscription translated as ‘Justinianus the First Centurion and Vindicianus the Magistrate, built this tower and fortification from its foundations’ (Figure 1). The original series of fortifications might have included examples at Seaton Carew, Whitby, Flamborough Head and Spurn Point too.
The fortlets consisted of a central tower within a small courtyard surrounded by a perimeter wall (incorporating bastions and a gatehouse) as well as a ditch with rounded corners (Figure 2). The excavations at Huntcliffe in 1912 revealed two particularly substantial bastions and a defensive wall (Figure 3).
Figure 2 – Plan of Huntcliffe Forlet
Figure 3 – Bastion at Huntcliffe
The remains of the Scarborough fortlet are located on the headland of Castle Hill and can still be visited (Figure 4). It is estimated that the central tower was 30 metres high and the stunning views out across the sea are still evident today.
Figure 4 – Scarborough Fortlet
The fortlet at Filey was positioned on Carr Naze but, since Roman times, the area has been badly eroded. However, five large stones were recovered from the site in 1857 and placed in Crescent Gardens where they can be found in a flower bed. The heavy blocks (one of which is decorated with a dog chasing a stag) contain sockets that would have held oak pillars, perhaps supporting the first floor of the central tower (Figure 5).
Figure 5 – Socketed stones at Filey
Over the years there has been considerable discussion and debate about the function of the Yorkshire coastal fortlets. One suggestion is that they might have constituted a signalling chain – using beacons – monitoring movements and hostile activities along the coast. However, it would have required an enormous tower for Goldsborough to transmit any messages to Whitby, irrespective of the compounding effect of sea frets. An alternative may have been for them to communicate inland to forts such as Malton (via intermediate beacons), but it would still have taken some time for the military unit stationed there – Numerus Supervenientium Petuarensium – to mobilise and march to the coast or to intercept any raiders heading inland.
Others have proposed that the fortlets could have been places of refuge for isolated coastal communities against hostile forces. Both Goldsborough and Huntcliffe certainly had a good water supply with wells being found by excavators in their courtyards. Soldiers might have been garrisoned within timber barracks inside the walls with, perhaps, artillery being placed on the towers.
More recently Alistair McCluskey has argued that the fortlets acted as a deterrent by threatening a raiding party`s escape route rather than blocking its primary incursion into Roman Yorkshire. Given the nature of their substantial defences they would have been difficult for a small force to attack but, once any incomers had left their landing grounds, the Roman garrison could have simply marched out of the fortlets destroying any beached boats.
The Yorkshire coastal fortlets probably only enjoyed a brief period of Roman military use – perhaps, 20 to 30 years – before being abandoned. What happened to them next is a matter of conjecture but might have been somewhat gruesome. In the excavations at Huntcliffe fourteen skeletons of men, women and children were found dumped in the well. At Goldsborough, the archaeologists who uncovered the remains of the fort wrote:
‘In the south-east corner of the tower we made discoveries that can only be described as sensational. A short, thick-set man had fallen across the smouldering fire of an open hearth, probably after having been stabbed in the back. Another skeleton, that of a taller man, lay also face downwards, near the feet of the first. Beneath him was the skeleton of a large and powerful dog, its head against the man`s throat, its paws across his shoulders – surely a grim record of a thrilling drama.‘
There seems to be a great deal of speculation about what happened to The Ninth legion as it moved northwards across England, and then into Scotland, to seeminly dissappear completely.
Four legions participated in the Roman invasion of Britain in AD 43: the Second, the Fourteenth, the Ninth and the Twentieth. The Ninth, originally raised by the Emperor Augustus, had been awarded the title Hispana for its bravery during the wars against the tribes in northern Spain. The full Roman name for this Legion was Legio IX Hispana.
By the early AD 70s the Ninth Legion had moved up from Lincoln to its new bases at York and Malton. Roman bricks and tiles were often stamped with the name of the legion supervising their production and, at York and Malton, complete examples (and fragments) have been discovered marked with the letters LEG IX HISP (Figure 1).
From Yorkshire the Ninth was involved in campaigns across the North and into Scotland. But its military reputation within Britain was far from outstanding, having been badly mauled by Boudicca`s troops in AD 61 (see previous blog: Petillius Cerialis and the Brigantes). Also, in his biography of his father-in-law, Julius Agricola, who was Roman governor in Britain during the Scottish campaigns, the Roman historian Tacitus explained how the Legion had been attacked as it was considered `the weakest point`.
Figure 2: Inscription from the Roman Fortress at York
After campaigning in Scotland, the Ninth returned to York as evidenced by an inscription discovered near the south-east gateway of the Roman Fortress (Figure 2) and translated as:
The Emperor Caesar Nerva Trajan Augustus, son of the deified Nerva, Conqueror of Germany, Conqueror of Dacia, pontifex maximus, in his twelfth year of tribunician power, six times acclaimed imperator, five times consul, father of his country, built this gate by the agency of the Ninth Legion Hispana.
This can be dated to AD 108 and, perhaps from the same period, was the tombstone of Lucius Duccius Rufinus, the standard bearer for the Ninth Legion (Figure 3).
Figure 3: Tombstone of Lucius Duccius Rufinus
However, after this the Ninth seems to have disappeared from the historical record, a mystery that has intrigued numerous individuals since the 18th century. It was replaced in York by the Sixth which travelled to the province with the Emperor Hadrian in AD 122 and no inscriptions referring to the Ninth have been found anywhere on Hadrian`s Wall. Moreover, the list of Roman legions on the Collonetta Maffei pillar in Rome (dated to AD 168) makes no mention of any Ninth Legion.
There are various theories surrounding the demise of the Ninth. Some argue that it left the province for the continent and finished its days fighting along the Rhine or the Danube. Certainly, some brick and tile stamps unearthed around Nijmegen imply that at least a detachment was deployed to the region sometime between AD 104 and AD 120.
Other historians believe the fate of the Ninth can be put down to redeployment in the East, with the Legion being sent to help quell the Second or the Third Jewish revolts in Palestine in AD 115 or AD 132. Others suggest that the Legion was destroyed in Armenia during Marcus Aurelius’ Parthian War. The Roman historian Dio Cassius stated that a Parthian army surrounded and annihilated an entire Roman unit during the conflict, but failed to name it.
The traditional view originally put forward by Theodor Mommsen in the 1850s was that the Legion was simply wiped out in action within northern Britain soon after AD 108, perhaps during a rising of the Brigantes against Roman rule. This view was further popularised in the 1954 novel The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliffe that paints a picture of the Ninth Legion marching into the mists of Scotland, never to be seen again.
Figure 4: Front cover of Roman Britain’s Missing Legion by Dr Simon Elliott
Dr Simon Elliott`s recent book (Figure 4) takes up the mantle from Mommsen arguing that the Legion was most likely lost in dramatic circumstances somewhere north of York. But echoing Rosemary Sutcliffe we now just need to find the location of the Ninth`s final stand and, if possible, their Eagle too!
Malton Museum are very excited to announce, that to celebrate our reopening, the first of our Summer Lecture series this season is a FREE online lecture, taking place on Wednesday May 26th at 7pm. Our guest will be renowned Archaeologist and author Dr Simon Elliott, who will talk about his latest book on the infamous ‘Missing Legion, Legio IX Hispana’.
