Romans go underground

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Images of the complete Cawthorne Camp near Pickering which comprises four elements which are (L-R) Fort D, Camp C, Fort A and Annexe B. Photo by Tony Hunt of Yorkshire Archaeological Aerial Mapping
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Fort D (left) whose boundary overlaps Camp C (right) which shows it was built later. Three clavicula gates can clearly be seen to the eastern boundary of Camp C. Pictures by Tony Hunt of Yorkshire Archaeological Aerial Mapping.

I studied Greek and Roman history at university and am fascinated by the ancient world and the remnants of the past that lie beneath the ground we walk upon today.

That’s why I was captivated by some pictures of Cawthorn Roman Camp taken from the air by Tony Hunt of Yorkshire Archaeological Aerial Mapping (YAAM) that popped up on Facebook. The specialist imaging revealed the camp in far more detail than can be seen with the naked eye, bringing it to life in a way I had not yet experienced.

Cawthorn Camp lies atop a rocky escarpment a few miles north of Pickering. I’ve mentioned it before in relation to Wade’s Causeway, sometimes referred to as the Roman Road, which runs across Wheeldale Moor from Goathland. Although only a short section is visible now, some believe it linked Whitby with a settlement at Amotherby near Malton, passing through Cawthorn Camp en route. Some archaeologists suggest it is much later and of mediaeval construction, while others think it dates from even earlier than the Romans, and attribute it to the Neolithic or Bronze ages. My theory is based on logic rather than expertise: perhaps the first moor-dwellers forged what they thought was the easiest route across the landscape, and then the Romans came along and rather than go to the trouble of digging out a whole new road across tricky unfamiliar terrain, used what was already there to create a more formal and recognisable highway. Then in the mediaeval period, more features were added. Thus, this mishmash of eras and styles has led to historians arguing as to which period the road officially belongs.

The camp dates from around AD75, although is believed to have been abandoned, re-inhabited, rebuilt and expanded several times over its lifetime. Although finds such as coins, tools and pots peter out after AD120, the camp would likely have been occupied after this date, possibly as a training ground, especially as the Romans occupied Britain until the start of the 5th century. We don’t really know why there are so few finds later than AD120 though.

There are four distinct elements across two separate plots, referred to as Fort A, Annexe B, Camp C and Fort D with A and B adjacent to each other at the eastern end, while C and D are a slight distance away towards the west. On the ground, although you get an idea of its scale through the deep ditches and mounds it is only through aerial photography that you can truly appreciate it. The forts, as the name suggests, will have been more permanent structures, with a building at their centre and ramparts surrounding them. The temporary camps will have served a more transient population of marching infantry. Similar settlements can be found along the routes of many of our Roman roads lying around 25 miles apart, the distance a cohort of soldiers would be expected to march in a single day.

Three of the plots are shaped like rounded-cornered rectangles, with gates facing every direction. We know Fort D was built later than its immediate neighbour, Camp C, thanks to the fact its boundary overlays that of Camp C, as seen in the accompanying YAAM image. Camp C is a bit of a rarity, shaped as it is like a coffin, and instead of having gates on every side as you’d expect, has three large portals along its eastern boundary. There is also one small opening on the western side, but no entrances to the north and south, which is very unusual.

The canny Romans knew a thing or two about building fortifications, and the three gateways (which are clearly visible in the YAAM image on the right side of Camp C), are known as Claviculae (vine tendrils), their curved shape meaning you cannot see in from the outside. The narrowing entrance would force any attacking enemies to shimmy through, trailing their cumbersome shields behind them as they tried to see where they were going with their sword arms before them, vulnerable and exposed, which allowed the defending Romans to easily disable them.

If space permitted, I could go on and on about Cawthorn Camp but I urge you to go and visit. There is still one question though; how much more lies beneath our feet that has yet to be discovered?

I’d love to hear from you about your stories, memories, opinions and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 11th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 9th Oct 2024

Where there’s water

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There has been human activity around the village of Thixendale since prehistoric times

I mentioned the lovely village of Thixendale in my recent column about the Yorkshire Wolds. I had already decided that I would do another piece focussing on that specific village because it has such a rich history. As I was researching, I also came across the mention of the ancient ridge and furrow method of farming, which was also the subject of an earlier column. I’ll have to get back on to those rolling Wolds to see if I can spot the signs for myself!

There has been evidence of activity around the village since the Mesolithic and the Neolithic periods (Middle Stone Age, 7,000-10,000 years ago and New Stone Age, 5,000-7,000 years ago) as shown by the discovery of man-made prehistoric tools such as flints (a sharp stone blade) and scrapers for animal skins. Much of the Stone Age coincided with the Pleistocene Epoch (the last era of the various Ice Ages), and as a result of the frozen ground, early humans lived a nomadic lifestyle, only staying in Thixendale for part of the year until they were driven on by the continuous search for food. The hunter-gatherer diet would have been mainly meat and foraged berries and seeds

It is the two-million-year-long Pleistocene Epoch that is responsible for the topography of the  landscape we see today. The valley in which Thixendale sits would have been created by the run-off from glaciers creating channels though the chalky surface at the end of the Ice Age. The dramatic fluctuations in climate, from greenhouse-hot to freezer-cold, led to the extinction of many large mammals such as mammoths, sabre-toothed cats and giant ground-sloths. This mass-extinction event marked the end of the Pleistocene Epoch and the beginning of the Holocene Epoch which is where we are today.

The advent of the Bronze Age (about 2,500-800BC) led humans to becoming more settled, when the development of stronger and more sophisticated metal tools enabled people to cultivate the land. There have been a number of Bronze Age barrows (burial mounds) found around Thixendale and nearby dales containing bones and ashes of long-dead inhabitants, alongside food vessels, arrowheads and tools. As time went on, these settled areas became more civilised, and a thriving community established itself in and around Thixendale. We know, from excavations at the nearby deserted mediaeval village of Wharram Percy, that there were formal houses built from around 100BC onwards. Many of the routes and tracks linking the various settlements were forged during the Roman period (from AD43 to 410AD) and more established townships evolved from the 10th century onwards. From the air, evidence of the medieval ridge and furrow agriculture can still be seen, which is where individuals owned several strips of land which they would cultivate to grow vegetable and cereals.

The Enclosure Acts (a series of Acts of Parliament starting in the early 17th century that chopped up and enclosed vast swathes of land that used to be common) put an end to much of that, and most of the land was grabbed by the nearby abbeys of St Mary’s in York, and Kirkham Priory a few miles away. They turned much of the land over to sheep grazing, leaving the residents with very little to live on, and it ultimately led to the desertion of some villages, including Wharram Percy. Thixendale would likely have met the same fate had it not been for good old Henry VIII destroying the Catholic monasteries, nabbing the land and then selling it off to the local aristocracy. The Sykes family of the Sledmere Estate bought the village and the surrounding land and established several thriving farms. In the 19th century, Sir Tatton Sykes did much to improve the lot of Thixendale residents, including providing jobs on the various farms, building a school and a also church, which saved the villagers a strenuous four-mile trek to the one at Wharram Percy.

For obvious reasons, settlements establish themselves around a natural source of water for the simple reason that humans cannot survive without it. However, what intrigues me is the fact I’m not aware of a natural water source in Thixendale. As I mentioned in my last column about the Wolds, the valleys in the area are dry due to the well-draining chalky soil.

How did the people of Thixendale get their water in the very beginning I wonder? I’m sure there is someone out there who will enlighten me.

Read more at countrymansdaughter.com. Follow me on Twitter @countrymansdaug

This column appeared in the Darlington and Stockton Times on 4th and Ryedale Gazette and Herald on 2nd August 2023