London Folk Tales Read Online Free Page B
Author: Helen East
war cloth was trampled into the mud, soaked and reddened with blood. Nearly 80,000 Britons died in the final battle, compared to 400 Romans. The general hunted down any survivors and exacted such a terrible retribution that Rome hardly celebrated the victory, fearing it might stir up another revolt.
In a very short time, a bigger and better Londinium was rebuilt and Romanisation continued apace. The city they created covered roughly the same region as the City of London district today. If you walk through it now, you may happen upon a market, with fresh, brightly coloured fruit displayed on fake green grass. Maybe some of the market hawkers might catch your eye. Their timeless faces that have been folded into deep creases by the cold, early starts, snappy jokes and the constant packing and unpacking of their ripening and decaying produce, could have come from AD 70.
But despite the rebuilding, Boudicca’s feisty spirit remains as much a part of London as that layer of burnt red earth. Some feel it strongest in the Kings Cross area, the part once known as Battle Bridges. It was there, so they say, that the Battle of Watling Street took place – the Britons’ terrible defeat. Some even claim that the queen was buried under Kings Cross Station, platform 10. And you can see her ghost there now and again.
But to my mind, if you really want to sense her ancient presence, turn your back on the bustle, and your feet from the streets of the city. Walk north until you’re deep in the peace of Epping Forest. Take a mossy path up through a line of giant beeches, until you reach Cobbins Brook. There, beyond the reach of motor cars and even mobile phones, is a great earthwork known by several different names: Castrum de Eppynghatthe or Ambresbury Banks or, locally, Boudicca’s Last Stand.
4
L ONDON B RIDGE
London Bridge is falling down,
Falling down, falling down.
London Bridge is falling down,
My fair lady.
It was the Romans who built the first London Bridge. They decided that the ford the Britons had used before would be wholly inadequate for the hordes of soldiers and civilians, chariots and carts, horses and donkeys, cattle, sheep, pigs, geese, and all manner of other beasts that they confidently and correctly anticipated would wish to pass over to their new city on the north side of the river. The Britons’ old ‘settlement’ was barely worthy of the name, as far as they were concerned; just a poor cluster of huts and a wooden fortress. And it was only defended by a simple timber palisade. That was the first thing the Romans replaced, and in good solid stone, too. Proper city walls. They were built to last. And they did.
They did find one thing of interest. In the middle of the old encampment, there was a fine menhir, presumably a marker stone of some sort. It was not local stone. One very old man told them that his father remembered hearing that the stone had come from Troy long ago. Although that was clearly nonsense, the Romans left the menhir standing where it was, and decided they would use it as the central milestone for their new city, from which roads would lead in all directions. So they called it after their name for the city, the Stone of Londinium.
As for the bridge itself, that was built in wood, resting on a heavy bed of clay and small stones, which had to be built up very high into an embankment on the southern side because it was so marshy. They called that part the South work, which eventually became the name of the poor settlement that grew up there, on the south side of the bridge.
Build it up with wood and clay,
Wood and clay, wood and clay,
Build it up with wood and clay,
My fair lady.
But even the Romans, experts in construction, must surely have underestimated the power of the Thames’ tides. Or perhaps they were relying on other ways to strengthen the bridge. ‘Giving it a bit of spirit’ you might call it. In time-honoured fashion that was done by choosing a living creature and
In a very short time, a bigger and better Londinium was rebuilt and Romanisation continued apace. The city they created covered roughly the same region as the City of London district today. If you walk through it now, you may happen upon a market, with fresh, brightly coloured fruit displayed on fake green grass. Maybe some of the market hawkers might catch your eye. Their timeless faces that have been folded into deep creases by the cold, early starts, snappy jokes and the constant packing and unpacking of their ripening and decaying produce, could have come from AD 70.
But despite the rebuilding, Boudicca’s feisty spirit remains as much a part of London as that layer of burnt red earth. Some feel it strongest in the Kings Cross area, the part once known as Battle Bridges. It was there, so they say, that the Battle of Watling Street took place – the Britons’ terrible defeat. Some even claim that the queen was buried under Kings Cross Station, platform 10. And you can see her ghost there now and again.
But to my mind, if you really want to sense her ancient presence, turn your back on the bustle, and your feet from the streets of the city. Walk north until you’re deep in the peace of Epping Forest. Take a mossy path up through a line of giant beeches, until you reach Cobbins Brook. There, beyond the reach of motor cars and even mobile phones, is a great earthwork known by several different names: Castrum de Eppynghatthe or Ambresbury Banks or, locally, Boudicca’s Last Stand.
4
L ONDON B RIDGE
London Bridge is falling down,
Falling down, falling down.
London Bridge is falling down,
My fair lady.
It was the Romans who built the first London Bridge. They decided that the ford the Britons had used before would be wholly inadequate for the hordes of soldiers and civilians, chariots and carts, horses and donkeys, cattle, sheep, pigs, geese, and all manner of other beasts that they confidently and correctly anticipated would wish to pass over to their new city on the north side of the river. The Britons’ old ‘settlement’ was barely worthy of the name, as far as they were concerned; just a poor cluster of huts and a wooden fortress. And it was only defended by a simple timber palisade. That was the first thing the Romans replaced, and in good solid stone, too. Proper city walls. They were built to last. And they did.
They did find one thing of interest. In the middle of the old encampment, there was a fine menhir, presumably a marker stone of some sort. It was not local stone. One very old man told them that his father remembered hearing that the stone had come from Troy long ago. Although that was clearly nonsense, the Romans left the menhir standing where it was, and decided they would use it as the central milestone for their new city, from which roads would lead in all directions. So they called it after their name for the city, the Stone of Londinium.
As for the bridge itself, that was built in wood, resting on a heavy bed of clay and small stones, which had to be built up very high into an embankment on the southern side because it was so marshy. They called that part the South work, which eventually became the name of the poor settlement that grew up there, on the south side of the bridge.
Build it up with wood and clay,
Wood and clay, wood and clay,
Build it up with wood and clay,
My fair lady.
But even the Romans, experts in construction, must surely have underestimated the power of the Thames’ tides. Or perhaps they were relying on other ways to strengthen the bridge. ‘Giving it a bit of spirit’ you might call it. In time-honoured fashion that was done by choosing a living creature and
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