Anterior to the third invasion of the Romans in A.D. 43, the inhabitants of the Fylde and other portions of Lancashire lying between the range of mountains which separates this county from Yorkshire, and the coast about the Bay of Morecambe, were called the Setantii or Segantii, “the dwellers in the country of water,” but at that date the whole tract populated by these people was included in the more extensive province of the Brigantes, comprehending what are now known as the six counties of York, Durham, Northumberland, Westmoreland, Cumberland, and Lancaster. The Fylde at that epoch would be composed chiefly of morasses and forests, interspersed with limited areas and narrow paths of more stable land, and there can be little doubt that the dwellers on such an uninviting spot must have been very few, but that it was traversed and, as far as practicable, inhabited by the ancient Setantii is evident from the several relics of them which have been discovered amongst the peat in modern days. Two or three canoes, consisting of light wooden frameworks, covered with hides, were found by a man named Jolly, about half a century ago, when cutting the “Main Dyke” of Marton Mere;[2] Celtic hammers, axes, and spears have also been taken out of the mosses in the district, all of which were doubtless originally the property of the aboriginal Britons. The bay of Morecambe and the river Wyre acquired their distinctive appellations from the Setantii, the one being derived from the Celtic gwyr, pure or fresh, and the other from mawr, great, and cam, winding or bent.
The hardihood of the native Britons of these parts is attested by Dion Cassius, who informs us that they lived on prey, hunting, and the fruits of trees, and were accustomed to brave hunger, cold, and all kinds of toil, for they would “continue several days up to their chins in water, and bear hunger many days.” In the woods their habitations were wicker shelters, formed of the branches of trees interwoven together, and, in the open grounds, clay or mud huts. They were indebted to the skins of animals slain in the chase for such scanty covering as they cared to wear, and according to Cæsar and other writers, dyed their bodies with woad, which produced a blue colour, and had long flowing hair, being cleanly shaved except the head and upper lip. That the power of endurance possessed by the Setantii, and the neighbouring Brigantes is not to be understood literally as expressed by Cassius may, we venture to think, be taken for granted. It can scarcely be credited that the human frame could ever be reduced or exalted to such an amphibious condition as to be indifferent whether it passed a number of days on dry land or under water; it seems more probable that in his description Cassius referred to the hunting and other expeditions of the inhabitants into the forests and morasses of the Fylde and similarly wooded and marshy tracts, where there is no question the followers of the chase would be more or less in a state of immersion during the whole time they were so engaged.
The religion of the Setantii was Druidical, and their deities resembled those of other heathen nations, such as the Romans and Greeks of that era, but differed in their names. Cæsar tells us that this order of priesthood was presided over by a superior, who was known as the chief Druid, and had almost unlimited authority over all the rest. The Druids were settled at various points of the island, where they erected their temples, but in addition to these principle stations, many of their order were scattered amongst the native tribes of Britain, over which they appear to have exercised the functions and power of judges, arranging both public and private disputes, and deciding all criminal cases. It was part of the creed professed by the Setantii, to vow, when they were engaged in warfare, that they would, through the agency of the Druids, immolate human victims as an atonement for slaughtered enemies, believing that unless man’s life were given for man’s life, the divine anger of the immortal Gods could not be appeased. There were other sacrifices of the same kind instituted at regularly appointed seasons and on special occasions. The Setantii also believed in an immortal soul, but seem to have had no idea of a higher state, as their priests inculcated the doctrine that after death the soul was transported to another body, “imagining that by this the men were more effectually roused to valour, the fear of death being taken away.”[3] Ornaments called “Druids’ eggs,” and worn only by these priests, have been found in the Fylde.
How Cæsar, in B.C. 54 and 55, invaded Britain a first and a second time, achieving at best an empty conquest, and how, after his death, the emperor Claudius sent over an army with a determination to exterminate the Druids, and after thirty pitched battles, subdued province after province, is beyond the limits of this work to state, but as a connecting link of the history of the country with that of our own county, and that portion of it especially under examination, it may be stated that Britain was finally conquered by the Romans under Julius Agricola, and that the best investigation of the subject leads to the opinion that the district which we call Lancashire, was brought into subjection to the Roman conqueror in A.D. 79. A vigorous resistance was for long offered to the army of invaders in the territory of the Setantii by the natives under the Brigantine chief Venutius, but the well drilled legions of the Romans, when commanded by Agricola, proved too formidable to be checked or broken by the wild, undisciplined valour of the Setantii. Tacitus, the son-in-law of the general, informs us that early in the summer of A.D. 79, Agricola personally inspected his soldiers, and marked out many of the stations, one of which, either made at that time or later by the same people, was situated at Kirkham, on the line of the Roman road running from the mouth of Wyre, which will be described hereafter. He explored the estuaries and woods along the western coast of Lancashire, and harassed the enemy by sudden and frequent incursions. When the Brigantes and Setantii had been thoroughly overawed and disheartened by the invincible Romans, Agricola stayed his operations in order to shew them the blessings of peace, and in that way many towns which had bravely held out were induced to surrender and give hostages. These places he surrounded with guards and fortifications. The following winter was passed in endeavouring, by various incentives to pleasure, to subdue the warlike nature of the Britons, thereby diminishing the danger of an outbreak, especially amongst such tribes as the Setantii, whose intrepid spirits had been so difficult to quell, and who were not likely to submit quietly to the yoke of the conqueror, unless some means were adopted to allure them by the charms of civilised luxury from their free field and forest mode of existence. Temples, courts of justice, and comfortable habitations were first erected; the sons of the petty chiefs were next instructed in the liberal arts, and Agricola professed to prefer the genius of the Britons to the attainments of the Gauls. The Roman dress became the fashion, and the toga was frequently worn. The “porch, luxurious baths, and elegant banquets” were regularly instituted, and by degrees the crafty design of the Roman general was accomplished, and the vanquished Britons had ceased to be the hardy warriors of old.
About one century after the subjugation of Britain by Agricola no less than seven important Roman stations, or garrisoned places, had risen up in the county of Lancaster, and were situated at Manchester, Colne, Warrington, Lancaster, Walton-le-dale, Ribchester, and Overborough. The minor ones, such as Kirkham, supposing their sites to have been first built upon in a season of warfare, subsequently became small settlements only, and were, in all probability, unused as military depots. The rivers which flowed in the neighbourhood of the several encampments, terminated in three estuaries, denominated by Ptolemy,[4] the ancient geographer, in his book, completed in A.D. 130, the Seteia Æstuarium, the Moricambe Æstuarium, and the Belisama Æstuarium. The first of these estuaries is generally regarded as the mouth of the Dee, the second is identified with Morecambe Bay, and the third with the Ribble by some historians and the Mersey by others. The same authority mentions also a Portus Setantiorum, which has been located on the banks of the Ribble, Lune, and Mersey, by different antiquarians, but in the opinion of the most recent writers the ancient harbour of the Setantii was situated at the mouth of the river Wyre. Further reference to the Setantian port will be made in a later page of the present chapter.
At the shore margin of the warren at Fleetwood there was visible, about forty years ago, the abrupt and broken termination of a Roman road, which could be traced across the sward, along the Naze below Burn Hall, and onward in the direction of Poulton. From that town it ran in a southerly line towards Staining, crossing Marton Mere, on its way, in the cutting of which its materials were very apparent, and lying on the low mossy lands to the depth of two yards in gravel. From Staining it proceeded to Weeton, and in a hollow near to the moss of that township, consisted of an immense stony embankment several yards in height; in the moss itself the deep beds of gravel were distinctly observable, and from there the road continued its course up the rising ground to Plumpton, the traces as usual being less obvious on the higher land. From Plumpton it travelled towards the elevated site of a windmill between Weeton moss and Kirkham, at which point it turned suddenly, and joined the public road, running in a continuous straight line towards the latter town. The greater part of the long street of Kirkham is either upon or in the immediate vicinity of the old Roman road. From Kirkham the road directed its course towards Lund church, somewhere in the neighbourhood of which it was joined by another path formed by the same people and commencing at the Neb of the Naze near Freckleton.[5] Leaving Lund it ran through Lea on to Fulwood moor, where it took the name of Watling street, and proceeded on to Ribchester. This road has always been known in the Fylde as the Danes’ Pad, from a tradition that those pirates made use of it at a later period in their incursions into our district, visiting and ransacking Kirkham, Poulton, and other towns or hamlets of the unfortunate Saxons. Numerous relics, chiefly of the Roman soldiery, have been dug or ploughed up at different times out of the soil, bordering on the road, or found amongst the pebbles of which it was composed, and amongst them may be mentioned spears, both British and Roman, horse shoes in abundance, several stone hammers, a battle axe, a broken sword, and ancient Roman coins, all of which were picked up along its line between Wyre mouth and Weeton. Several half-baked urns marked with dots, and pieces of rudely fashioned pottery were discovered in an extensive barrow or cairn near Weeton-lane Heads, which was accidentally opened, and is now pointed out as the abode of the local hairy ghost or boggart. In the neighbourhood of Kirkham there have been found many broken specimens of Roman pottery, stones prepared for building purposes, eight or ten urns, some containing ashes and beads, stone handmills for corn grinding, ancient coins, “Druids’ eggs,” axes, and horse shoes; in the fields near Dowbridge, where several of the above urns were discovered, there was found a flattened ivory needle, about five or six inches long with a large eyelet. A cuirass was also picked up on the banks of the Wyre; but the most interesting relic of antiquity is the boss or umbo of a shield, taken out of a ditch near Kirkham, which will be fully described in the chapter devoted to that township. The Romans were accustomed to make three kinds of roads, the first of which, called the Viæ Militares, were constructed during active warfare, when they were engaged in pushing their way into the territory of the enemy, and easy unobstructed communication between their various encampments became a matter of the utmost importance. The second, or public roads, were formed to facilitate commerce in time of peace; and the third were narrower paths, called private roads. The county of Lancaster was intersected by no less than four important Roman routes, two of which ran from north to south, and two traversed the land from west to east. The course of one road, and perhaps the best constructed of the whole four, we have just followed out; of the remainder, the first, commencing at Carlisle, passed near Garstang and Preston, crossed the Irwell at Old Trafford, and maintaining its southerly direction, ultimately arrived at Kinderton, in Cheshire. The second extended from Overborough to Slack, in Yorkshire, passing on its way through Ribchester, the Ribble, Radcliffe, Prestwich, and Newton Heath; whilst the third had its origin at a ford on the Mersey, in close proximity to Warrington, and from that spot could be traced through Barton, Eccles, Manchester, Moston, Chadderton, Royton, and Littleborough, thence over Rumbles Moor to Ilkley, where was located the temple of the goddess Verbeia. It is conjectured that these roads, which consisted for the most part of pavement and deep beds of gravel, were begun, or at least marked out, by Agricola during the time he was occupied in the subjugation of Lancashire, and if this very probable hypothesis be correct the course taken by that general in his exploration of the woods of the Fylde, and the estuaries of Morecambe and the Ribble is clearly indicated by the direction of the ancient path communicating with the mouth of Wyre and the Naze.
At the opening of the third century the Roman governor of Britain found it necessary to obtain the personal co-operation of Severus, in order to put an effectual check to the repeated outbreaks of the natives; in A.D. 207, that emperor having landed and established his head-quarters at York, a considerable force marched northwards under his leadership to punish the revolting tribes, and it is surmised that the curious road, running across the mosses of Rawcliffe, Stalmine, and Pilling, was constructed by the legionaries whilst on this tour. The pathway alluded to, and commonly known as Kate’s Pad, was deeply situated in the mosses, and had apparently been formed by fastening riven oak planks on to sleepers of the same material, secured and held stationary by means of pins or rivets driven into the marl a little above which they rested. Its width was about twenty inches, but in some places rather more.[6] Herodian, in describing the expedition of Severus to quell the insurrection of the Briton, says:—“He more especially endeavoured to render the marshy places stable by means of causeways, that his soldiers, treading with safety, might pass them, and having firm footing fight to advantage. In these the natives are accustomed to swim and traverse about, being immersed as high as their waists: for going naked as to the greater part of their bodies they contemn the mud. His army having passed beyond the rivers and fortresses which defended the Roman territory, there were frequent attacks and skirmishes, and retreats on the side of the barbarians. To these indeed flight was an easy matter, and they lay hidden in the thickets and marshes through their local knowledge; all which things being adverse to the Romans served to protract the war.” There can be no doubt that, when the path, which consisted in some parts of one huge tree and in others of two or more, was formed, timber must have been very plentiful in the vicinity, and at the present day numbers of tree trunks of large size are to be found in the mosses, further corroborating the conclusions arrived at by Leyland, whose words have already been quoted, and Holinshed, who wrote:—“The whole countrie of Lancaster has beene forests heretofore.” An iron fibula, a pewter wine-strainer, a wooden drinking bowl, hooped with two brass bands and having two handles, a brass stirrup, and other relics have been taken out of the moss fields; and in the same neighbourhood an anvil, several pieces of thin sheet-brass, and a pair of shears were discovered in a ditch.
About the year 416 the Romans finally removed themselves from our island, taking with them many of the brave youths of Britain, and leaving the country in the hands of a people whose inactive habits, acquired under their dominion, had rendered them ignorant of the art and unfit for the hardships of warfare. According to Ethelwerd’s Chronicle, in the year 418 those few of the Roman race who were left in Britain, not being able to put up with the manifold insults of the natives, buried their treasure in pits, hoping that at some future day, when all animosity had subsided, they would be able to recover it and live peaceably, but such a fortunate consummation never arrived, and weary at length of waiting, they assembled on the coasts and “spreading their canvass to the wind, sought an exile on the shores of Gaul.” The Saxon Chronicle says:—“This year, A.D. 418, the Romans collected all the treasures that were in Britain, and some they hid in the earth so that no one since has been able to find them; and some they carried with them into Gaul.” It is far from unlikely that the silver denarii, discovered in 1840 by some brickmakers near Rossall, and amounting to four hundred coins of Trajan, Hadrian, Titus, Vespasian, Domitian, Antonius, Severus, Sabina, etc., were deposited in that spot for security by one of those much harassed Romans, previous to his departure from our coast.
A prize so easily to be obtained as Britain in its practically unprotected state appeared, was not long in attracting the covetousness of the neighbouring Picts and Scots, who came down in thousands from the north, forced their way beyond the Roman Wall erected by Hadrian, occupied the fortresses and towns, and spread ruin and devastation in their track. The northern counties were the chief sufferers from these ruthless marauders. Cumberland, Yorkshire, and Lancashire, were ravaged and plundered to such an extent that had it not been for the seasonable assistance of the Saxons, the whole country they embrace would have been utterly devastated and almost depopulated. Gildas, the earliest British historian[7], born about 500, described our land before the incursions of the Picts and Scots as abounding in pleasant hills, spreading pastures, cultivated fields, silvery streams, and snow-white sands, and spoke of the roofs of the buildings in the twenty-eight cities of the kingdom as “raised aloft with threatening hugeness.” We may readily conceive how this picture of peace and prosperity was marred and ruined, as far as the three counties above-named were concerned, by the destroying hand of the northern nation. The British towns were still surrounded by the fortified walls and embattled towers, built by the Romans, but the unfortunate inhabitants, so long unaccustomed to
“The close-wedged battle and the din of war,”